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jhkfan123 · 5 months

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enchanted - tom blyth | ch. 10

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✦x.

you pulled tom into a quieter place outside. there was a decent amount of space between you two and the next person, besides, most people were inside the party already. it was a perfectly quiet place for the two of you to chat. the two of you maneuvered through different decorative pillars that were placed around, and found a secluded spot. you finally came to a stop and faced him. you took a breath.

"alright, what's up?" he asked. what's up? what's up is that your a liar, is what you wanted to say. there was no way he was totally clueless of what was going on. and, maybe he had even noticed your instagram, and the taken down posts. maybe he had noticed the outfit choice tonight. maybe had had noticed your half-smile on the red carpet.

maybe he had noticed how much you wanted him to kiss you that night.

"ok, we need to talk." you repeated.

"look, y/n-

"no, let me talk first." you interrupted him. you had so much to say, yet no idea what to say. "look, tom, i could handle you dating rachel, but you lying about it, i can't handle." you spewed. tom looked at you, confusion in his face. you wondered if he was going to continue to deny anything.

"y/n, what do you mean." he asked, still questioning you. you looked at him. hadn't he known about how many people saw the posts of them last night?

"tom. you simply cannot come up to me, and say that there's nothing going on between you and rachel, have rachel reaffirm that statement, and then have her get into your car, with your coat on, in the same night. you cannot treat me like that." you decided to completely open up to him. be completely honest with him, about your thoughts and feelings. he once again, looked puzzled. you couldn't help but roll your eyes. "don't act dumb about this."

"ok, first of all she was co-"

"guys, what are you doing over here? the party's amazing!" you heard rachels voice approaching. you both turned to her. she walked up to both of you and placed her hand on your shoulder. she tried to reach tom's but the height difference made it difficult. eventually she gave up. you were agitated that she had interrupted your conversation, and you were very scared she was going to steal tom away, whisk him away to the party.

"we're having a conversation." tom responded. you nodded at her. she seemed curious. you were not going to let her push herself into this conversation.

"yea. we are. we will be in soon, though, ok? see you in there." you had hoped that had given her the impression that she was not part of this conversation. the subject of this conversation? yes. but not part of it. her smile dropped, and she just gave a solemn nod and began to walk away. you sighed deeply. you really needed this time with him. to talk with him. you glanced back at him, and found him already looking back at you. he couldn't stop looking down at the slit of your dress. it almost made you blush, you couldn't control your face, though. you felt your cheeks get hot, and you couldn't do anything about it.

but you had to focus back on the elephant in the room. you shook him off and became formal once more.

"finish your response." you demanded. he focused in again.

"oh, yeah. i would never lie to you, y/n. i swear, she was just cold." you accidentally laughed. you saw his face become silently angry. he took a deep inhale. "and her driver had an emergency, and i was just being nice. i gave her a ride because she didn't have one." two perfect coincidences for the perfect photos.

if she was cold, why would she have had the coat over her shoulders and not on her physically? you weren't sure if jealousy was coming up with these questions, or your mind.

"tom. i'm just going to say it. why would you let that get public. you know how the media is in this industry. you had to have known that people would get photos of you. i mean, that is common knowledge in hollywood." he thought for a moment.

"i, i don't know." he sighed. "i don't. but y/n, please believe me when i say that there is nothing going on between me and rachel." he pleaded.

"tom. please don't lie"

"i'm not lyi-"

"it's ok if you like rachel. i mean, she's flawless-"

"what?" he said, a little louder, to stop the overlap. you questioned him back. "say that again." he asked. so you repeated. he took a deep breath.

"ok, first of all, she's not flawless." he responded. you rolled your eyes. he was dead serious.

"what do you mean-"

"she isn't you."

"what?" you felt like the world had gone silent, and still.

"she's not you. i mean," he laughed at himself. "if anyones flawless, it's you." you froze. you couldn't move. what was he talking about? was he being serious? you silently begged him to continue on. "y/n. you are the most flawless person i've ever met. everything about you. your smile, god your smile. your laugh. your entire personality. everything. everything. and, i know that these past couple of days, things have gotten insanely out of hand with the media, and rachel, and everything that could have gone wrong, has gone wrong, and i hate that. because you don't deserve any of that. and your right. quite honestly, from the moment i met you, i knew there was something special about you. and then, as time went on, i really fell head over heels for you. and i was scared to tell you because i had no idea how you'd react. and its just recently come to me that you might feel the same because i was blinded by the stress of filming, and press, and everything that followed. i began to reach out to you more, and then at the party, at my party, god." he continued to ramble on. "after what happened to you-" he chocked on his words slightly. "after what happened to you at the party, i didn't even know what to do. i had never felt that guilt before. so i shut myself out of your life for a while because i felt like it was my fault. and i don't know why, i shouldn't have. and then everything spiraled out of control with the rumors and- and i just didn't know what to do. but please, y/n, please, believe me when i say that i love you." he finally allowed himself a long exhale. you were still processing for seconds after he ended. you couldn't get anything out of your mouth. anything except his name.

"tom, i-" that was all you said. but it said enough. you looked up at him. it was mere seconds before he enveloped your lips in his. he crashed his lips into yours rather suddenly, but you went along with it. he kissed you like he was starving. starving for all those missed out moments. the kiss eventually brought you up against a pillar. you felt his arms slither around your waist. you kept kissing him, and just when you thought you were done, he would prove you wrong.

up against the pillar, one of his arms moved off you waist and down to your upper leg. the slit in your dress made it easy for him to access your leg. his touch on your skin sent you in spirals. it was what you had been waiting for for so long. too long. eventually, he got up to your garter. wanting to fully take in the moment, you pushed his arm down slightly. he didn't seem to mind.

finally, after a long time, he finally pulled away. he looked at you. took in all the features of your face. he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, and smiled at you. you quietly laughed. both of you seemed so happy.

"i waited far to long to do that." he reprimanded himself.

"i waited far to long for that." you responded. he laughed. "also. now that were, on good terms," he laughed again, "what did you say to me in the ballroom?" he thought for a moment, then realized what you were referring too.

"oh. that. i, um." he hesitated.

"what. what is it. say it." you pushed him.

"i just said that, um, you looked amazing. always." now you really were blushing. you looked down, and he picked your head up by your chin, claiming he wanted to see your face.

"i have a question for you too." he asked. you couldn't help but get nervous. you gestured for him to go ahead.

"is this look another way to get back at me and rachel?" he asked. you glanced down at your dress, which was now slightly wrinkled. you noticed your pearls, and your accessories.

"of course it was." you replied with confidence. he laughed. he also asked you about the instagram posts, to which you just replied, "i'm petty."

"tom, how are you going to deal with this. you have the entire rachel and you thing, and, neither of you have shut it down yet. what are you going to do?" you couldn't really do much, it had to be tom.

"i'm going to make an instagram story, or something. i'm going to say something. get rachel to say something too." he replied, quickly. you found a sense of comfort in that.

"and what about, us." you asked.

"we will deal with us tommorow. now come on, you don't want to miss out on the oscar's afterparty, do you?" he took your hand in his, and the two of you made your way inside.

A/N: GUYS I PROMISE THIS ISN'T THE END BUT NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I TRY TO MAKE IT NOT SOULD LIKE AN END IT JUST DOESN'T WORK BUT I PROMISE I AM EXPECTING TO HAVE 2+ MORE CHAPTERS.

#tom blyth #jhkfan123 #hollywood #fame #coriolanus snow #hunger games #rachel zegler #hungergames #tom blyth fanfiction #snow lands on top #tom blyth x you #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tomblyth #tbosas #coriolanus x reader #coriolanussnow #coryo #romance

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caperingcryptid · 1 year

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Waiting

Is [Player] happy? [Player] must be happy.

Is [Player] enjoying the game? [Player] must be enjoying the game.

Does [Player] like me? [Player] needs to like me.

If [Player] doesn't like me, then...

...

...It's been a while since they were here. I wonder where they go? Do they think about me? Do they miss me? I miss them. I miss them so much. I hope they miss me as much as I miss them. I'm sure the world out there is exciting, but they're my best friend! And I'm theirs!

Yes. Yes, they'll come back soon. I'm sure of it. Me and [Player], against the world! As it should be. They would always make time for their best friend. They know how much I've done for them. I made them a whole game, after all, just for them! With breakfast, and their favorite color, and season, and- and everything that they told me they like! It's been a lot of hard work, and I'm sure they know how much effort I've been putting in.

I'm sure they appreciate it. (:

...

.......

It's dark here, though. I wish I could keep working on the game while they were away. Then, I could surprise them when they came back. Maybe they'd like it better if there were more songs? Or- I could've done a better job at spacing out the enemies, huh? Or made the puzzles more interesting. They really seemed to like the switches a lot- I could put in more switches!

Hey! I can still work on the game after all! Just...in my head, that's all. I can figure out the changes I can put in once they came back. Just you wait, [Player]! I'm going to knock your socks off! That's a promise. (:

Let's see...oh! What if their other friends got kidnapped, too, and they had to go save them! Then they could feel even more heroic! Oh, but, it might make them unhappy if everyone from town kept getting kidnapped. And the fights might be a lot more difficult if they have to do them alone, too. Hm.

...

Their other friends...They told me they had another best friend, didn't they? One that was out there. With them. I'm sure they aren't as good a friend as I am, though. They're probably a lot less considerate of their feelings. I bet they've never even thought of making them a game before, or- or if they have, it's all about them, and not Player!

A selfish, selfish, bad friend. A very bad friend.

...But...[Player] still said they were a best friend. What if...they're off spending time with them instead of me? What if they're off playing games with them instead?

Maybe they're playing hangman together, without me. Or rock-paper-scissors. Or...some other game. A game I don't know about.

If they're both out there, they've probably seen [Player], too. They can hear what they sound like, and hug them, and get pet by them, and- and-

It's not fair. It's not fair! Why would [Player] do this to me? Why would they leave me here all alone in the dark, and go off and play with someone else! Don't they know that I'm always here for them? Don't they remember I was made to be their best friend? Their best friend. Not their second best, or third best, or hundredth best. Their best friend. Shouldn't they be mine, too? I put all this work into our friendship together, and they aren't putting aside the time for me.

They're off spending time with that other friend instead. It's not fair. It's not fair.

It's not fair it's not fair it'snotfair itsnotfairitsnotfairitsnotfairitsnotFAIR

Not. FAIR. Not fair!

...

...Maybe I'm being a bad friend. I should trust them more. Maybe they're busy, that's all. Maybe they're too busy to spend time with me, and they're just as worried about me as I am about them! They're probably really excited to get back to playing my game and talking to me.

Oh no! I hope they aren't hurt, or sick, and that's why they haven't come to see me! Feel better soon, [Player]. :) I'm always here if you need to be cheered up.

They'll be back soon. They'll be back to play with me soon. I just need to be patient for them.

...

Is [Player] happy? [Player] needs to be happy.

Is [Player] enjoying the game? [Player] needs to enjoy the game.

Does [Player] like me? [Player] has to.

If [Player] doesn't like me, they might leave me here, alone. Forever. If [Player] doesn't like me, then...

...Then I don't exist.

#writing #creative writing #buddy simulator 1984 #buddy simulator spoilers #tw: obsessive behavior

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xknivesandpensx · 6 months

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Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 15

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here. And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

Hermione made her way through the crowded corridors and up the winding staircase with ease. She lightly knocked on the door, choosing to enter despite the lack of a verbal reply, assuming Moody may be up in his office. The chamber fell into an almost eerie quietness, everything still except for the spiders moving inside the small jars.

She walked past empty tables and to the room above, her fingers lightly trailing along the railing in the process. Once again, Hermione tapped her knuckles on the door only to be met by nothing more than silence.

Although, she intended to leave and search elsewhere or perhaps try another day, a rather loud thumping sound caused her to stall. After taking a breath, Hermione quieted her nerves and peered inside. A roaring fire illuminated the space in hues of yellow and orange, showing an otherwise ordinary backdrop. Moody’s large trunk rested near the wall, almost out of place.

Hermione almost instinctually reached out towards it, yet something else caught her attention. A warped, black book rested on the table; one she remembered quite well despite its damaged appearance. A large hole splintered through the middle, looking very much like Harry explained it back in their second year. She took hold of the diary and absently flipped through the pages. The parchment was stiff and difficult to peel apart.

“You might want to put that down.” The gruff voice caused Hermione to jump. Moody paid no mind to her reaction. His magic eye shifted around quickly, making sure everything remained how he left it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come in without permission. I heard a strange sound. Maybe I imagined it.” She cleared her throat some prior to continuing. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is Tom Riddle’s Diary here?”

“That’s between me and Dumbledore.” Moody outstretched his hand and put it aside once she relinquished possession. “I’m assuming you came here for a reason?”

“Yes, actually.” She paused momentarily as he took a long swig from his flask. “I was wondering if you found out anything new regarding Harry and Draco being selected for the tournament. I worked out how well enough. Different schools, the use of a Confundus Charm. I just can’t put together why or who for instance.”

Hermione thought it quite strange how she felt the need for company whenever Moody came close. His reputation proceeded him, according to Ron anyway. Hyper-suspicious and skeptical, if not overly realistic when it came to the Dark Arts. His lessons were abrasive, to say the least. His choice of detentions hardly sat well either.

“It’s a matter for the professors to handle. Still, impressive work figuring out so much on your own,” Moody replied, attempting to determine her threat level when it came to his intended goal. “You’re a bright, young witch. Very keen on details often missed.”

Barty thought himself rather safe while undercover. He had a sufficient amount of Polyjuice Potion on supply. However, he knew Snape would eventually begin picking up on his missing ingredients. As for the fourth year before him, he knew little of her. Muggle-born. Exceptional grades. And most importantly, a close friend of Harry Potter.

Maybe he made a mistake by adding Malfoy into the tournament. It certainly didn’t help lower the questions, but little could be done now. Barty hardly relished the idea of Lucius coming to watch the competition. He needed to keep himself in check, if he aimed to conceal his real identity.

“Unless you’ve got any leads you’d like to share, it’d be best to get going. I have a lot of work to do.” Moody sidestepped her to get to his desk.

Compliments aside, Hermione intended to persist her point. “It’s obvious a person in the school is involved and I have a terrible feeling that something horrible is going to happen. Which is why I think it’s imperative to figure out who’s responsible. The only plausible connection I’ve gathered is it being a staff member. Based on the reaction of the other headmasters and their students, I can’t see them happy about having four additional competitors against their own opposed to two. And as disagreeable it is, Hogwarts holds a track record of professors going after Harry.”

She wanted him to believe her suspicion partly fell on him to witness his initial reaction. As expected, he gave almost nothing away. His quick veer in her direction showed her a small glimpse of worry. No more than a single instance though. It vanished immediately.

Moody kept himself busy, pretending to rummage through a few papers. “Quite a theory. And how exactly does it pertain to Draco Malfoy? Certainly, he scurried away from any potential danger over the years. His whole family is like that. Cowards, they are.”

“Well, you’ve blatantly made your disapproval of him known.” Hermione stopped herself from mentioning the punishment Moody gave Draco in case it got him in further trouble and instead redirected her statement. “I imagine there are others who don’t appreciate the ideals he grew up learning.”

She found her suspicion rising. In reality, she had nothing, no evidence. Dumbledore appointed him the position because they shared a lasting friendship and trust. So, why did she feel off regarding his hiring?

“I would hate to think you’re accusing me of having a hand in this whole thing, Miss Granger. Often students, such as yourself, find themselves in trouble for thinking they found the answer when it turns out their assumptions were wrong. Then you waste too much energy on the incorrect party.” He realized her trust in him faltered, sensed it almost. “I think it’s high time you’re on your way out. If you have any doubts, speak to Dumbledore and he’ll clear them up. I’m here for the sole purpose of teaching the proper way to defend yourselves. If anything, I’m hoping Mr. Potter pulls through.”

“But not Draco?” The question left her deprived of warning. Hermione hesitated, choosing not to try and fix the way her voice sounded, how it indicated her own fear. “He could die just as easily.”

Moody approached, meeting her steady gaze. “His family has quite a lot of dark ties. Something you better remember before you go trying to stick your nose into the things any further. Now off with you.”

Hermione pressed her lips together, preventing herself from saying anything more. He clearly wished to end the conversation, so she obliged and left the room. Already too much occupied her mind. Although Moody seemed reliable from a general point of view, she wavered when it came to actually believing his innocence. Yet to accuse him so readily felt as bad as thinking the one responsible for the Chamber of Secrets was Hagrid. Hermione required more information, a solidified clue to base her ideals on. When would the chance to dig further arrive? Perhaps the library may once more come in handy. If not for the late hour, she’d go there now.

Rather, Hermione slowly headed back to the common room. She didn’t expect to see the Hogwarts champions. Cedric gave a polite smile of which she returned, however Draco avoided meeting her gaze completely. He sauntered by, lacking any indication of noticing her at all. If he had looked, she knew exactly what the effect of making eye contact would produce. She was probably fooling herself to think he drew closer on purpose as they passed and she was hit, regardless, by a sensation of butterflies rapidly flapping their wings inside her stomach. The moment she stabilized her breathing, Hermione saw Harry trailing further behind the rest.

“I honestly didn’t think they’d keep you so long,” Hermione commented, slowing down to a full stop. Despite her qualms, she kept herself composed. “Sorry to say, but Neville got a rather poor grade. His potion came out all wrong.”

“I sort of expected as much.” Harry sighed. Snape’s class seemed so far away, almost as if the importance of it dwindled significantly between then and now. “Rita Skeeter conducted our interviews. She’s going to make me out as some kid who’s distraught over the death of his parents. Of course, it bothers me terribly, but not so much then that my eyes were glistening with the ghosts of my past.”

“I don’t understand why they’d use her of all people.” Hermione shook her head, starting to walk once more. “I’m sure not everyone believes what they read in the paper, Harry. It may not even be as bad as you think.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He attempted to shake it off, not wanting to indulge his irritation. “I shouldn’t be involved in the competition in the first place. Malfoy, surprisingly, looks like he’s taking it in stride. For the most part. He just enjoys the attention, I suppose.”

Hermione knew as much, seeing as his attempts to gain it weren’t exactly well hidden. If she took a deeper look, played the very few scenes she witnessed between himself and his family in her head, a different side of him emerged. Not so diverse from the boy she hardly knew, nonetheless new aspects came to life.

“Hold on a moment.” Harry lightly grabbed hold of Hermione’s arm to prevent her from going further up the staircase. He might as well say it before they reached the common room. “Malfoy and I got into a bit of an argument and well, if he starts bothering you, more so than usual anyway, it’s likely my fault.”

For whatever reason, he felt awkward uttering the words, a little less so than if surrounded by others. Harry looked up at her, having stopped her one step ahead of himself, and saw a slight altercation in her expression prior to any verbal reply.

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” She tried her best to lose her defensive tone, choosing to grip the railing as if the action helped steady her voice. “I understand how difficult the whole thing must be for you, but getting into fights won’t help any. What did you say?”

Harry almost let his vexation of the situation out. How could she or anyone else possibly understand what he was going through? He forced himself to swallow the retort, letting it settle unevenly.

“I asked him what’s going on between the two of you. I don’t think he appreciated the question. I mean, I can’t be the only one noticing it.” He shrugged, hoping to portray the innocence in the reason behind the inquiry. “When I told him to leave you alone, he said he’d do exactly the opposite.”

Hermione wondered what he meant by it. She tried so hard to maintain her feelings. Whenever Draco came near, she lost all ability to think straight. He chased away a level of security she encased her heart in years ago, when he started treating her poorly back in their second year.

“Oh.” The syllable quietly left her lips, as if the news appeared inconsequential. “Honestly, I’m not overly worried. In fact, Malfoy will be so busy, I suppose he’ll hardly remember saying one thing or another. On a different note, I was going to get started on some homework. I could help you with Transfiguration, if you need it. I know you’re having a bit of trouble.”

Although Harry noticed the change of topic, he welcomed it. “Yeah, sure. I doubt I’ll have loads of time to do it later. I can barely keep my attention in class since the first task’s just around the corner. Whatever it might be.”

It surprised Hermione, once they passed through the entrance into the common room, that Ron willingly approached. Yet he did no more than mumble a sentence or two and shove a letter into Harry’s hands, lacking so much as a goodbye before returning to Dean’s side.

“It’s from Sirius.” Harry beckoned her towards the window, allowing Hermione to cover him from prying eyes. He hastily tore it open, quick to read its contents. “He wants to talk face-to-face by the fire at one in the morning on the twenty-second of November. He said it's too risky to say everything he'd like to incase the owl was intercepted.”

#dramione #hermione granger #draco malfoy #harry potter #the goblet of fire #i was going to post this earlier today #but i'm sick and did nothing the majority of the day because of it #nice comments are always appreciated #sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes

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h3artstar · 1 year

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ST x Ocarina of Time (Legend of Zelda AU)

A/N - Yep, I’ve done it again guys. I made another Zelda Au of Mike and Will. I just gotta say that Zelda and Link are my faves, so of course I had to put my other faves in their positions. Will is so link coded sometimes.

Like, being lowkey diagnosed with the ‘tism, saving everyone’s asses for the millionth time, being lowkey traumatized by the same dude forever, and looking good while doing it? They’re the same person. Also BOTW Zelda and Mike? They’re both so insecure that it hurts </3. Anyway, I’ll stop ranting because who the hell is reading all of this?? Not me!!! (Also I know this isn’t wheelclair - my babies - but I had the urge to post this because I might not ever post this on ao3. Who knows.)

THIS IS JUST AN EXCERPT OF A ONE-SHOT FANFIC

…

The Fate of Two Cursed Souls (is this a corny ass title? Maybe..)

Everything was wrong with this alliance. With Henry. But what could a nine-year-old Mike say about adult manners? He was merely a prince, a child that no one would listen to. The sound of soft, fast feet running behind him captured Mike’s attention, forcing him to turn around. Before him stood a short, small boy, wearing a yellow tunic that was only held together by a brown belt. From the looks of him, he didn’t look strong enough to pass the guards that were placed just outside of the garden he was in.

“Who are you? How’d you get past the guards?” Mike asked, gaping at the sword shield on the small boy’s stature.

The boy walked up the steps, nearing Mike, and a blue fair circled around the space between them. The boy was far too close for his liking, but he ignored that in favor of watching the blue fairy. Hyrule holds no fairies; they’re usually found in the lost woods. “You have a fairy…” Mike wondered out loud, watching as the fairy slipped back inside the boy’s pocket. “That means you’re from the forest!” He gasped.

The Lost Woods were always such a wonder and puzzle for everyone. It was so difficult to get in, yet so easy to leave if you wanted. You never got lost in the forest because one wrong turn sent you right back to the entrance of the woods.

Mike swallowed. “Then does that mean… that you have the stone of the forest?!” The boy looked at Mike with surprise, leaning back at the intensity of Mike’s voice.

“Uh, yes, I do.” He nodded. The boy had a soft, meek voice, as if he did not speak to others often. He did not want to make the boy feel uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help the idyllic giggle that slipped past his lips.

“Just as I thought!” Mike looked back inside the window, watching as Henry still spoke to his father with a horrible smirk on his face. Mike’s small hands clenched. “I had a dream.. In that dream, dark storm clouds billowed over the land of Hyrule. But suddenly, a ray of light parted the clouds and lit up the ground below.”

It was such a strange dream for a young child like Mike, who could barely understand the power he held. He could tell that the brunette thought so too, cocking his head to the side. Knowing the boy was listening, he kept on going.

“The light turned into a figure, though, holding a green, shining stone, followed by a fairy. I knew this was a prophecy that someone would come from the forest.” Mike hummed, looking over at the boy's yellow tunic. “Yes, I thought you might be the one.” Mike looked up at the boy's face, which, although he did not look annoyed or weirded out from his rambling, still made him feel embarrassed.

“Oh! Sorry, I got carried away! I didn’t even introduce myself.” The boy gave him a smile, one that Mike couldn’t help but be charmed by.

“I’m Mike, prince of Hyrule.” He leaned forward just a bit, but it was enough to make the boy lean away, clearly nervous. “What’s your name?”

The boy did not answer at first; he was stunned for a moment before he shook his head and spoke. “Will. My name is Will. Nice to meet you.” He smiled. It was such a simple name, one that he wouldn’t have remembered if it weren’t for the familiarity behind the name. But where did he hear it before?

“Hm… Will… Strangely, it sounds familiar.” Mike shook his head, brushing off the thought.

Mike clasped his hands together. “Okay then, Will! I’m going to tell you the secret of the sacred Realm that has been passed down by the Royal Family of Hyrule!”

Will looked shocked for a minute, but closed his gaping mouth and nodded with such vigor that it made his hair shake in front of his face. “Please.. Keep this a secret from everyone. I’m not supposed to be telling this to anyone, okay?”

“Okay,” Will said. He was a boy with a few words, but Mike just guessed that he spoke too much for Will to get a moment to talk. But simplicity never hurts anyone.

“The legend goes like this.”

….

“That’s right. The Temple of Time is the entrance through which you can enter the Sacred Realm from our world. But the entrance is sealed with a stone wall called the Door of Time. You need the rest of the stones to open that door, along with a Royal family treasure. The Ocarina of Time!” Will’s eyes seemed to widen even more, his doe-like eyes expanding so big that they seemed to fill his face. His small hand reached over to his pocket, grabbing at it. Mike followed his hand in wonder, but he quickly turned back to the window, peering inside.

“I was peeking through this window before you came. Look!” Mike slid away to the side, leaving a small spot for Will to peek through the window with him. At that exact moment. Henry walked into view, bowing down at the king of Hyrule with a deep frown on his face. Will gasped.

“That man! He seems..” Mike nodded his head, knowing exactly what Will meant because of his loss of words.

“Evil? Yeah, it’s practically drowning him in that horrible aura. He swears his allegiance to my father, yet I know that’s not what he wants.”

“And the dark clouds in your dream—they seem exactly like this man.” He muttered, making Mike wonder. He’s never encountered someone like Henry in his life, yet the dark clouds in his dream felt exactly like him. Will was the beacon of light that had to destroy him.

“Yeah..”

Just then, Henry snapped his head in their direction, his blue eyes piercing through them like ice. He and Will jolted back from the window and out of the blonde man’s sight. “I’m sure he saw us. But he doesn’t know what we’re planning!”

Mike sighed as he stole one last look at the evil man. “I haven’t told my father of the man’s evil intentions or about my dream. He would never believe me! But I know what Henry’s desires are.” As he glanced at Will, he knew that the boy did too.

“He came here to conquer the castle. No, the entire world!” Will gasped, clutching the stone wall. His words only deepened the frown on Mike’s lips. After all these long days in the castle with no one to confide in, he can finally do something to protect Hyrule—use the sacred blood in his body for something.

He turned to Will suddenly, a determined look on his face. “Will, you have to help me! I can’t protect Hyrule without your help. So, please, will you help me?” He pleaded the best he could, on the verge of begging for the sake of his kingdom. Will seemed awfully good-natured, but it still shocked him when he nodded his head.

“Of course!” The wooden shield on his back and the small sword showed Mike that he was well equipped (to an extent) to go on a sudden quest for two stones. But even someone as reckless and brave as Mike knew that this quest was extremely dangerous for someone as small and young as Will. He suddenly felt horrible for sending Wil off into the wild by himself and for the sacred stones that had to be hard to reach!

“Thank you! But… I feel bad for sending you off on your own when you don’t know me all that well! What if you never reach the stones because you get killed?!” He gasped when he felt a small hand grab his shoulder. The hold was warm and oddly comforting.

“Mike, you don’t have to worry. I came here because I have a duty to finish. You really helped me a lot with the story you told. You’ve done a lot already. I’ll… I’ll get those stones and open the Temple!” Will finished bravely, although he was starting to tremble at the aspect of going through a dangerous mission. Yet he kept his composure. Mike admired Will’s courage for such a mission. If only he could go with him. If only he weren’t a prince at all.

Mike brought Will into a tight hug, hearing the boy let out a huff at the strength Mike held him in. He pulled away with a beaming smile on his face. “I’ll protect the Ocarina of Time with my life! Now, you must go! I don’t know how much time we have, but we cannot let Henry win. I’ll see you again, Will.” Will swallowed deeply, his brown hair bobbing as he gave Mike a nod.

“I promise to hurry.” Will’s soft voice rang through his ears, even after he had long left. Something in Mike’s bones told him that time was running short. He hoped that Will could make it before Henry did.

#mike wheeler #will byers #fanfic #ficlet #byler fic #miwi #ocarina of time #legend of zelda #alternate universe

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dearcraziness · 11 months

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Chapter 77.

Bendy looked sympathetically at the blond man and replied, "Yes, you had to face a lot of problems... I think everyone sometimes has difficult times, you just need to overcome them without being sad... After all, even our shortcomings help us to preserve our individuality, because no one is perfect... Except for Lara, of course..."

Two men smiled crookedly, but good-naturedly, and the girl giggled.

"This is your personal opinion..." the imp said softly.

"I'm not the only one who thinks you're ravishing, dearheart... Although, you're right, everyone has their own views about perfection, and I'm immensely glad I found my ideal..."

"Same..." the demoness said laconically, and then turned to the creators. "It was nice to talk to you again. Joey, you told quite a remarkable story about your difficult past..."

"Right, with each meeting we know more stories about you and Henry from the distant past..." Bendy added. "And since we share our innermost thoughts with each other, it means that we strengthen our relationship with trust..."

"Exactly, my little devil." Joey straightened up. "It's great you and Lara are no longer angry with us for our eavesdropping."

The man patted the imp on the shoulder, the young man shook his head slightly, answering, "Next time, you better not watch anyone without asking... Everyone should have their own personal space..."

"I promised this wouldn't happen again, and I'll keep my word." Joey confirmed. "Henry didn't like this idea at the very beginning."

Suddenly, the sound of a phone notification rang out. The former boss turned on the screen, typed a small text and sent it, put the device back in his belt bag.

"Looks like I have to go. Amanda needs another pair of hands, otherwise she wouldn't take all the things away. I'll see you again soon, I'm sure. Are you coming, Henry?"

"As if I have a choice." the brunette jokingly replied.

Friends said goodbye in the corridor, finally the man in the dark suit carefully surrounded the devils with his hands, bringing them closer to him.

"Thank you..."

"Are you thanking us for not being offended by you and Joey?..." asked Bendy.

"No, just for who you are..." Henry replied good-naturedly. "See you soon, tell Boris and Alice that we're mentally hugging them..."

"We definitely will... Bye, have a nice day..."

The door closed, and the creators disappeared from the dimly lit corridor.

Bendy turned to Lara and said, "Well, the day started pretty smoothly... Sweetheart, would you rather go on a date, having a picnic on the street, or stay at home, reading new issues of magazines, solving crosswords, sudoku?..."

"Let's start with the first and finish with the second..."

"You read my mind, vanilla..."

"Or you read mine, orange..."

"Rather, our desires are just quite often converge... I'm going to pack a rucksack for our walk..."

After half an hour, beloved ones were ready to go. The demon gave the girl a bouquet of red roses and wrapped his long fingers around Lara's waist, gently stroking her back with huge hands. The imp read a small note attached to the bouquet and was going to kiss Bendy, but he was first to touch his lips to her cheek. She kissed him back and got a few more kisses on the cheek from him. After putting flowers in a vase, pouring water, the young man and the girl went on a date. Before the picnic, they took a short walk around the City ; the wizard held his precious by the small of the back, making her laugh with newly invented jokes.

In the evening, Bendy and Lara finished solving the puzzles, began reading a new story, sitting comfortably next to each other on the bed. There followed conversations about impressions of the plot, characters, then on the most distant topics.

In the morning, the devils were glad to spend another interesting day together. After breakfast, they went out into the garden, towards wonderful adventures, which consisted of insignificant, at first glance, little things, barely noticeable details...

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfic

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whileiamdying · 5 years

Text

Emily Brontë’s WUTHERING HEIGHTS; Chapter XXXIII

On the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his ordinary employments, and therefore remaining about the house, I speedily found it would be impracticable to retain my charge beside me, as heretofore. She got downstairs before me, and out into the garden, where she had seen her cousin performing some easy work; and when I went to bid them come to breakfast, I saw she had persuaded him to clear a large space of ground from currant and gooseberry bushes, and they were busy planning together an importation of plants from the Grange.

I was terrified at the devastation which had been accomplished in a brief half-hour; the black-currant trees were the apple of Joseph’s eye, and she had just fixed her choice of a flower-bed in the midst of them.

“There! That will be all shown to the master,” I exclaimed, “the minute it is discovered. And what excuse have you to offer for taking such liberties with the garden? We shall have a fine explosion on the head of it: see if we don’t! Mr. Hareton, I wonder you should have no more wit than to go and make that mess at her bidding!”

“I’d forgotten they were Joseph’s,” answered Earnshaw, rather puzzled; “but I’ll tell him I did it.”

We always ate our meals with Mr. Heathcliff. I held the mistress’s post in making tea and carving; so I was indispensable at table. Catherine usually sat by me, but to-day she stole nearer to Hareton; and I presently saw she would have no more discretion in her friendship than she had in her hostility.

“Now, mind you don’t talk with and notice your cousin too much,” were my whispered instructions as we entered the room. “It will certainly annoy Mr. Heathcliff, and he’ll be mad at you both.”

“I’m not going to,” she answered.

The minute after, she had sidled to him, and was sticking primroses in his plate of porridge.

He dared not speak to her there: he dared hardly look; and yet she went on teasing, till he was twice on the point of being provoked to laugh. I frowned, and then she glanced towards the master: whose mind was occupied on other subjects than his company, as his countenance evinced; and she grew serious for an instant, scrutinizing him with deep gravity. Afterwards she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh. Mr. Heathcliff started; his eye rapidly surveyed our faces. Catherine met it with her accustomed look of nervousness and yet defiance, which he abhorred.

“It is well you are out of my reach,” he exclaimed. “What fiend possesses you to stare back at me, continually, with those infernal eyes? Down with them! and don’t remind me of your existence again. I thought I had cured you of laughing.”

“It was me,” muttered Hareton.

“What do you say?” demanded the master.

Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession. Mr. Heathcliff looked at him a bit, and then silently resumed his breakfast and his interrupted musing. We had nearly finished, and the two young people prudently shifted wider asunder, so I anticipated no further disturbance during that sitting: when Joseph appeared at the door, revealing by his quivering lip and furious eyes that the outrage committed on his precious shrubs was detected. He must have seen Cathy and her cousin about the spot before he examined it, for while his jaws worked like those of a cow chewing its cud, and rendered his speech difficult to understand, he began:—

“I mun hev’ my wage, and I mun goa! I hed aimed to dee wheare I’d sarved fur sixty year; and I thowt I’d lug my books up into t’ garret, and all my bits o’ stuff, and they sud hev’ t’ kitchen to theirseln; for t’ sake o’ quietness. It wur hard to gie up my awn hearthstun, but I thowt I could do that! But nah, shoo’s taan my garden fro’ me, and by th’ heart, maister, I cannot stand it! Yah may bend to th’ yoak an ye will—I noan used to ’t, and an old man doesn’t sooin get used to new barthens. I’d rayther arn my bite an’ my sup wi’ a hammer in th’ road!”

“Now, now, idiot!” interrupted Heathcliff, “cut it short! What’s your grievance? I’ll interfere in no quarrels between you and Nelly. She may thrust you into the coal-hole for anything I care.”

“It’s noan Nelly!” answered Joseph. “I sudn’t shift for Nelly—nasty ill nowt as shoo is. Thank God! shoo cannot stale t’ sowl o’ nob’dy! Shoo wer niver soa handsome, but what a body mud look at her ’bout winking. It’s yon flaysome, graceless quean, that’s witched our lad, wi’ her bold een and her forrard ways—till—Nay! it fair brusts my heart! He’s forgotten all I’ve done for him, and made on him, and goan and riven up a whole row o’ t’ grandest currant-trees i’ t’ garden!” and here he lamented outright; unmanned by a sense of his bitter injuries, and Earnshaw’s ingratitude and dangerous condition.

“Is the fool drunk?” asked Mr. Heathcliff. “Hareton, is it you he’s finding fault with?”

“I’ve pulled up two or three bushes,” replied the young man; “but I’m going to set ’em again.”

“And why have you pulled them up?” said the master.

Catherine wisely put in her tongue.

“We wanted to plant some flowers there,” she cried. “I’m the only person to blame, for I wished him to do it.”

“And who the devil gave you leave to touch a stick about the place?” demanded her father-in-law, much surprised. “And who ordered you to obey her?” he added, turning to Hareton.

The latter was speechless; his cousin replied—“You shouldn’t grudge a few yards of earth for me to ornament, when you have taken all my land!”

“Your land, insolent slut! You never had any,” said Heathcliff.

“And my money,” she continued; returning his angry glare, and meantime biting a piece of crust, the remnant of her breakfast.

“Silence!” he exclaimed. “Get done, and begone!”

“And Hareton’s land, and his money,” pursued the reckless thing. “Hareton and I are friends now; and I shall tell him all about you!”

The master seemed confounded a moment: he grew pale, and rose up, eyeing her all the while, with an expression of mortal hate.

“If you strike me, Hareton will strike you,” she said; “so you may as well sit down.”

“If Hareton does not turn you out of the room, I’ll strike him to hell,” thundered Heathcliff. “Damnable witch! dare you pretend to rouse him against me? Off with her! Do you hear? Fling her into the kitchen! I’ll kill her, Ellen Dean, if you let her come into my sight again!”

Hareton tried, under his breath, to persuade her to go.

“Drag her away!” he cried, savagely. “Are you staying to talk?” And he approached to execute his own command.

“He’ll not obey you, wicked man, any more,” said Catherine; “and he’ll soon detest you as much as I do.”

“Wisht! wisht!” muttered the young man, reproachfully; “I will not hear you speak so to him. Have done.”

“But you won’t let him strike me?” she cried.

“Come, then,” he whispered earnestly.

It was too late: Heathcliff had caught hold of her.

“Now, you go!” he said to Earnshaw. “Accursed witch! this time she has provoked me when I could not bear it; and I’ll make her repent it for ever!”

He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her locks, entreating him not to hurt her that once. Heathcliff’s black eyes flashed; he seemed ready to tear Catherine in pieces, and I was just worked up to risk coming to the rescue, when of a sudden his fingers relaxed; he shifted his grasp from her head to her arm, and gazed intently in her face. Then he drew his hand over his eyes, stood a moment to collect himself apparently, and turning anew to Catherine, said, with assumed calmness—“You must learn to avoid putting me in a passion, or I shall really murder you some time! Go with Mrs. Dean, and keep with her; and confine your insolence to her ears. As to Hareton Earnshaw, if I see him listen to you, I’ll send him seeking his bread where he can get it! Your love will make him an outcast and a beggar. Nelly, take her; and leave me, all of you! Leave me!”

I led my young lady out: she was too glad of her escape to resist; the other followed, and Mr. Heathcliff had the room to himself till dinner. I had counselled Catherine to dine upstairs; but, as soon as he perceived her vacant seat, he sent me to call her. He spoke to none of us, ate very little, and went out directly afterwards, intimating that he should not return before evening.

The two new friends established themselves in the house during his absence; where I heard Hareton sternly check his cousin, on her offering a revelation of her father-in-law’s conduct to his father. He said he wouldn’t suffer a word to be uttered in his disparagement: if he were the devil, it didn’t signify; he would stand by him; and he’d rather she would abuse himself, as she used to, than begin on Mr. Heathcliff. Catherine was waxing cross at this; but he found means to make her hold her tongue, by asking how she would like him to speak ill of her father? Then she comprehended that Earnshaw took the master’s reputation home to himself; and was attached by ties stronger than reason could break—chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen. She showed a good heart, thenceforth, in avoiding both complaints and expressions of antipathy concerning Heathcliff; and confessed to me her sorrow that she had endeavoured to raise a bad spirit between him and Hareton: indeed, I don’t believe she has ever breathed a syllable, in the latter’s hearing, against her oppressor since.

When this slight disagreement was over, they were friends again, and as busy as possible in their several occupations of pupil and teacher. I came in to sit with them, after I had done my work; and I felt so soothed and comforted to watch them, that I did not notice how time got on. You know, they both appeared in a measure my children: I had long been proud of one; and now, I was sure, the other would be a source of equal satisfaction. His honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off rapidly the clouds of ignorance and degradation in which it had been bred; and Catherine’s sincere commendations acted as a spur to his industry. His brightening mind brightened his features, and added spirit and nobility to their aspect: I could hardly fancy it the same individual I had beheld on the day I discovered my little lady at Wuthering Heights, after her expedition to the Crags. While I admired and they laboured, dusk drew on, and with it returned the master. He came upon us quite unexpectedly, entering by the front way, and had a full view of the whole three, ere we could raise our heads to glance at him. Well, I reflected, there was never a pleasanter, or more harmless sight; and it will be a burning shame to scold them. The red fire-light glowed on their two bonny heads, and revealed their faces animated with the eager interest of children; for, though he was twenty-three and she eighteen, each had so much of novelty to feel and learn, that neither experienced nor evinced the sentiments of sober disenchanted maturity.

They lifted their eyes together, to encounter Mr. Heathcliff: perhaps you have never remarked that their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw. The present Catherine has no other likeness to her, except a breadth of forehead, and a certain arch of the nostril that makes her appear rather haughty, whether she will or not. With Hareton the resemblance is carried farther: it is singular at all times, then it was particularly striking; because his senses were alert, and his mental faculties wakened to unwonted activity. I suppose this resemblance disarmed Mr. Heathcliff: he walked to the hearth in evident agitation; but it quickly subsided as he looked at the young man: or, I should say, altered its character; for it was there yet. He took the book from his hand, and glanced at the open page, then returned it without any observation; merely signing Catherine away: her companion lingered very little behind her, and I was about to depart also, but he bid me sit still.

“It is a poor conclusion, is it not?” he observed, having brooded a while on the scene he had just witnessed: “an absurd termination to my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me; now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is the use? I don’t care for striking: I can’t take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case: I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.

“Nelly, there is a strange change approaching; I’m in its shadow at present. I take so little interest in my daily life that I hardly remember to eat and drink. Those two who have left the room are the only objects which retain a distinct material appearance to me; and that appearance causes me pain, amounting to agony. About her I won’t speak; and I don’t desire to think; but I earnestly wish she were invisible: her presence invokes only maddening sensations. He moves me differently: and yet if I could do it without seeming insane, I’d never see him again! You’ll perhaps think me rather inclined to become so,” he added, making an effort to smile, “if I try to describe the thousand forms of past associations and ideas he awakens or embodies. But you’ll not talk of what I tell you; and my mind is so eternally secluded in itself, it is tempting at last to turn it out to another.

“Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a human being; I felt to him in such a variety of ways, that it would have been impossible to have accosted him rationally. In the first place, his startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with her. That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least: for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day—I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her! Well, Hareton’s aspect was the ghost of my immortal love; of my wild endeavours to hold my right; my degradation, my pride, my happiness, and my anguish—

“But it is frenzy to repeat these thoughts to you: only it will let you know why, with a reluctance to be always alone, his society is no benefit; rather an aggravation of the constant torment I suffer: and it partly contributes to render me regardless how he and his cousin go on together. I can give them no attention any more.”

“But what do you mean by a change, Mr. Heathcliff?” I said, alarmed at his manner: though he was neither in danger of losing his senses, nor dying, according to my judgment: he was quite strong and healthy; and, as to his reason, from childhood he had a delight in dwelling on dark things, and entertaining odd fancies. He might have had a monomania on the subject of his departed idol; but on every other point his wits were as sound as mine.

“I shall not know that till it comes,” he said; “I’m only half conscious of it now.”

“You have no feeling of illness, have you?” I asked.

“No, Nelly, I have not,” he answered.

“Then you are not afraid of death?” I pursued.

“Afraid? No!” he replied. “I have neither a fear, nor a presentiment, nor a hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution and temperate mode of living, and unperilous occupations, I ought to, and probably shall, remain above ground till there is scarcely a black hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to remind myself to breathe—almost to remind my heart to beat! And it is like bending back a stiff spring: it is by compulsion that I do the slightest act not prompted by one thought; and by compulsion that I notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I’m convinced it will be reached—and soon—because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment. My confessions have not relieved me; but they may account for some otherwise unaccountable phases of humour which I show. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!”

He began to pace the room, muttering terrible things to himself, till I was inclined to believe, as he said Joseph did, that conscience had turned his heart to an earthly hell. I wondered greatly how it would end. Though he seldom before had revealed this state of mind, even by looks, it was his habitual mood, I had no doubt: he asserted it himself; but not a soul, from his general bearing, would have conjectured the fact. You did not when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: and at the period of which I speak, he was just the same as then; only fonder of continued solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in company.

#Wuthering Heights #Emily Brontë #Project Gutenberg

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summercourtship · 3 years

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Hi, could you write a nsfw oneshot or something for the Cenobite with a shy and modest fem survivor reader? Possibly include some fingering and using his hands. Thanks if you do!

I'm sorry this took so long, I obviously got a bit carried away. I have such a bad habit of needing SO MUCH exposition even for tiny one shots (or at least what are supposed to be tiny) but I’m not going to stop. I’m also not sure how well I fulfilled the idea of a “shy, modest” reader, but I think I managed to have elements of it without it becoming a stereotypical mess of stuttering and blushing.

summons [nsfw, 18+]

Pinhead (The Cenobite) x Reader | warnings: NSFW, reader could be interpreted as being a virgin but it’s not explicitly stated, I somehow made the Lament Configuration solving erotic (it’s what Clive Barker would want) | 3121 words

It was always unnerving to realize that a killer remembered you. To notice that shift in their expression as they placed your face to a memory, to an action that had made you stick out in their mind. Some killers seemed to remember everyone while others only recognized a select few. Some didn’t seem cognizant of doing either.

Luckily, you had always managed to fly under their radar. Even the killers that had memorized every survivor regarded you with an air of disinterest, preferring to go after the overtly obnoxious survivors (which was probably part of those survivors’ plans- Nea really hated fixing gens). Some could say that it was because you were boring, at least in the way of prey. You didn’t necessarily agree, but if killers thinking you were boring kept you alive you wouldn’t argue about it.

However.

There was one killer who seemed… overly interested in you because of this. Somehow your reserved nature was more intriguing to him than that of the unafraid or blatantly uncaring survivors. You didn’t understand it, but you also didn’t want to.

You didn’t want anything to do with it.

The Cenobite was an oddity among oddities- barely even touching the survivors and treating your suffering with a cold grace. In the few moments you’d been able to observe him, he seemed unaffected by anything, continuing his hunt seemingly without a care in the world.

When you were one of his designated playthings for a trial, you avoided the Box, even if it meant your continued survival. You couldn’t handle the thought of possibly summoning him, bringing the being you knew was somehow fascinated with you directly to your location.

You just did your damnedest to finish repairing gens and move on to the next trial with the usual indifferent killers, taking extra care to stealth when you knew he was coming. Because if he caught sight of you, he wouldn’t stop pursuing you throughout the trial, preferring to torment you than spread the pressure amongst your teammates.

But, despite your efforts, not every trial with him could work out this way, as was the case for the trial you found yourself in now. You had been just barely surviving through your stealth tactics when it seemed that the survivors were rapidly downed, one quickly falling after the other.

You rushed to pull them off hooks or patch them up enough to stand, only briefly hesitating when you felt your own safety was in danger. You pushed it aside, putting your team’s survival over your own sense of sanity. They would eventually pay you back in kind, and the cycle would continue.

But it seemed that luck was not on your side.

One, two, three survivors were all hooked for the last time, their cut off screams piercing the night air.

And suddenly, you were the only one left.

Somewhere, both too close and impossibly far away, a bell tolls.

You’re frozen in place, too on edge to even contemplate searching for the Hatch. You’d been in similar situations before, but this time felt different- it was as if the air was electrified from your nervous anticipation.

And never before had you been left alone with him.

Before long, the consequence of your hesitation becomes clear- the chains that he summons from nothing have started seeking you out, the few that reach you embedding their hooks in your skin. You hiss, jerking back into life and unhooking yourself, trying to be as careful as possible to not rip your skin off.

It would not be the worst pain you have felt in this place.

You set off, struggling through the terrain of the Macmillan Estate until you reach one of the smattering of brick walls that litter the Entity’s realms. Here, at least you would have some protection from the chains, giving you time to figure out what you were going to do next.

Find Hatch or wait by the Exit Gate, hoping he closes the Hatch with enough time for you to slip out? You’re debating the two options in your head, knowing full well it’s not the best use of your time but feeling unable to make a decision and get your feet moving.

You’d just mentally circled back around to the option of booking it for Hatch that you realize you were being observed. And he wasn’t even hiding like some of the others would, no crouching behind the brick or staying by the tree line. He’s simply standing there, as if waiting for you to realize he was there.

You look up at him, wondering how you hadn’t noticed his presence before. He blocks the only other exit from your shelter that isn’t a window, something you note with a growing sense of dread. No prey likes feeling cornered.

But he hasn’t moved to attack, just standing and staring at you. You take a moment to observe him back, noting the impassive expression on his face. He doesn’t move, even once you’d been made aware of him. You narrow your eyes and glare at him, ignoring the thwacking of the chains hitting the ground and walls behind you, already tired of whatever game he is playing, not in the mood to be toyed with.

“What do you want?” You ask, willing your voice to stop wavering. For once, you wanted to seem like the brave, outgoing survivor, willing to stand up to the killer for nothing more than the satisfaction of having done so.

A beat of silence, and you almost think he won’t answer. But he does, and his response is more confusing than clarifying.

“You.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

More silence.

Then, a crackling draws your attention downwards, to the small, unassuming box that lay on the ground in the space between you. The very box you had done your best to avoid touching, even looking at. You wonder, briefly, if it had been there the entire time.

“Solve it.” His voice is commanding yet gentle, coaxing yet sinister. There’s power behind it, a power that isn’t being utilized at the moment.

“No.” It’s an easy answer for you. There are few things you are sure of in the Fog, but not touching anything that belongs to a killer is one of them.

“Aren’t you curious?”

That was not what you had been expecting him to say. Suddenly, you were no longer sure about the subject of your conversation. The Box still lay between you, ready for your willing hands to run along its smooth surface, finding the small grooves that would lead you to further unlocking its mystery. But while you had been focusing on the Box, his eyes had never left you.

Because he knew that ultimately, yes. You were curious, and always had been. About everything, but you’d always been too shy, too afraid of other’s thoughts about you to try anything even mildly risky. Better to stay on the safe side and hear about other’s exploits instead of experiencing your own.

“Yes.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Then…” With a long fingered hand, he gestures to the Box.

Your hands shook as you reached down to pick it up, finding its smooth surface both warm and cool at the same time, its weight heavier than you had anticipated.

You looked back up at the Cenobite, ignoring the faint tinkling of a music box’s tune that you could now hear coming from the Box.

“What do I do?”

You were sure it couldn’t be but so difficult- less intelligent survivors had completed its puzzle under significantly more stressing circumstances than you. But you couldn’t bring your mind to command your hands to begin, some invisible wire holding your muscles back from taking action.

Maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, watching you intently.

He moved closer and you barely resisted the urge to move backwards, your grip on the Box tightening as if afraid he would take it from you. He stopped just before you and reached out, not to take the Box but to guide your hands. But instead of placing his hands over yours as you had anticipated, they hovered barely a centimeter above your skin.

“There is a force in this realm that makes solving the Lament Configuration child’s play.”

You look up at him, wondering if he had just delivered a thinly veiled insult. If he, in saying that solving it should be easy, was implying that you were too unintelligent to figure it out. You open your mouth to begin defending yourself.

“I-“

“You’ve refused it,” He continues as if you’d never started speaking, “even when it is to your detriment. But the Configuration is meant for those who seek to heighten their senses, for sensations that the earthly world cannot provide. Opening it is not supposed to be easy.”

You look down at your hands, at his.

“For those who summon us must be sure that it is what they want, for once we are summoned we cannot leave without a charge. It cannot be helped.”

He places his hands over yours now, guiding them along the edges of the Box (the Configuration, you correct yourself). Your hands are seemingly electrified from where his skin meets yours, though a sizable portion of his hand is covered in leather.

“Here it seems that, although alone, I work under different rules. The Box was made simpler and perverted into a means to assist in feeding this Entity.”

With his guidance, you are able to find the minuscule lines in the surface of the box, pushing and shifting the pieces until they form a completely new shape. But before you are able to push the final piece into place, thus completing the puzzle, he releases his hands and steps back.

“There is no need to finish it.”

You blink, feeling like you’d just woken from a hazy waking dream.

“But why did I do it in the first place?”

“I won’t have to hunt you down the next time we find ourselves facing each other. It is very tiresome when you hide from me constantly.”

He turns around like he’s about to go, either to finally kill you or let you scamper off to find the Hatch, but you aren’t ready for him to leave yet.

“Is that it?” You blurt out and almost take it back when he turns his head, indicating that you have his attention once more. But you swallow your fear and continue on, holding your chin higher. “You just wanted me to solve this box? To what? Prove to myself that I can, so that you don’t have to do as much work the next time you’re going to kill me?”

He whirls around, but there is barely any change in his expression from before. He was near impossible to read, you were quickly learning.

“I don’t get it- if you’re summoned for those who want pleasure or pain or whatever, why are you so interested in me? I don’t want any of that.”

“You don’t want pleasure?”

Your face heats up, any bravery you had felt in delivering your speech gone. You look down at your hands, still holding the almost solved Lament Configuration.

“The rules of this place may be different, but I am still obliged to answer the summons.” His words, at first, make no sense.

And then you realize what he is implying, and your face must be on fire for how hot it feels. If he was summoned for those who want whatever version of pleasure or pain he provided, then you solving the Configuration meant that he could…

Ohhhkay.

You turn from him, fully intending to put the box down and sprint for the Hatch and think about this encounter later at the campfire, but the quiet, nagging voice in the back of your head stops you.

Aren’t you curious?

Before you can rationalize and deny the urge, you act on impulse for once and press the final piece into place on the Box, the tinkling music stopping abruptly.

While you’ve had your back turned, he must’ve crept up closer on you, because you suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder.

You gasp, both from surprise and the sensation of his touch once again on you. He slowly ran his hand down your body, from your shoulder down your arm, before making its way to your front. Your breathing was picking up, hitching in the back of your throat when his other hand snuck around and plucked the box from your grasp. It’s gone when you turn your head to look at it, and you’re too focused on his touch to really ponder what happened to it.

You reach out and press your own hand against the brick wall in front of you, using the rough texture to ground yourself in reality, as much as you could in the hellish purgatory that you were trapped in. But the reality of this moment was that he was touching you in such a simple way, barely vulgar at all, but you felt as if you were being lit on fire with the way his touch seared your skin, even over the layers of your clothes.

His fingers dance over the hem of your pants, toying with the button. You’d always liked that the Entity put you in pants most of the time, their practicality better for your environment than the potential fashion statements you could’ve been making in something else. But now you wish that the Entity had decided to put you in one of the nonsensical outfits the others occasionally donned, if just for the easy access a skirt provides.

Nonetheless, he deftly undid the button and continued his journey down your body, not bothering to even pull your pants down. He completely ignored your underwear, apparently not in the mood to tease you over the fabric. You weren’t complaining, wanting whatever he was going to give you as quickly as possible.

It was now that you fully realized how cold his hands were, which only made you more aware of every centimeter of your skin that he ran his fingers along. Down over your stomach, a feather light touch that was approaching where you needed it the most.

The Cenobite found his way in between your legs with little fanfare, finally exploring the part of your body that, unbeknownst to you, he had thought of whenever he saw you in a trial. He toyed briefly with just running his touch up and down your slit, causing you to shudder and drop your head. But before long, he ended up at that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking it just to hear you moan. His finger circled around your clit, applying just enough pressure for it to register in your mind but not enough to really scratch the itch that had been building since he’d placed his hands over yours to solve the box.

He was silent behind you, but you didn’t think he wasn’t actively enjoying what he was doing to you, if the way his teasing touches would briefly speed up when you let the little sounds building up behind your lips escape was any indication. Or the way his breathing, though quiet and low, would hitch when you would whimper, groan, hiss.

He finally moved lower, teasing at your entrance. You whimper again, closing your eyes. But he didn’t do anything aside from dipping his fingers in, for barely a second, giving you just a taste of the pleasure you needed. He teased more than you would have expected, but you also wouldn’t have expected him to want to fuck you.

“Please,” your whisper is broken, your mind hazy and unable to compose a more elegant plea. You curse under your breath when he does it again, moving back up to your clit to circle it a couple more times.

“You can do better than that,” He says, and you, in your fuzzy mind, think you detect a hint of humor in his voice.

“Fuck- please.” You roll your hips, as if to entice him to finally get to it. But he holds fast, your (pathetic) attempt to seduce him into giving in to your whims failing. He pauses in his movements.

“Fine! Please, please, please, please fuck me, put your fingers in me, I don’t care just please make me cum!”

You wonder, briefly, in the back of your mind, if the Entity is watching.

Two of his fingers finally slip into you, and you barely hold back a curse, forgetting whatever inane thought you had before. All you could focus on was the fact that he was finally giving you what you wanted, that he was finally done teasing.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, dragging them along your walls and hitting every sensitive spot that you didn’t even realize existed within you.

“For such a shy woman, you make delightful sounds,” He mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear over the heartbeat pounding in your ears. Whether it’s yours or his, you cannot tell.

Quickly, much too quickly, you feel your climax approaching, and any sense of the amount of time you’ve spent at his mercy is lost to you. All you know is that he is touching you in a way that makes you feel like no one has ever made you feel and that you want to reach your peak now.

As it builds, you release a litany of pleas, begging with broken words and fragmented sentences.

You finally finish with a sharp, drawn out and shuddering gasp, his fingers curling into the spot that makes your toes curl, sharply punctuating every ripple of pleasure that your body rides.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it is over.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you turn to face the Cenobite, who looks as unaffected as he had before. He examines his glistening fingers not even looking at you when he tells you to find the Hatch. If you’re stung by his sudden disinterest in you, you don’t show it, opting to add it to the growing mental list of things to think about later.

On shaky legs, you comply with his demand, stealing one last glance back at him as you leave him. You had no idea if this would be a one off occurrence, or if he would regularly find his own way to answer your summons, if he would make good on his statement that he is summoned for those who wish for pleasure and pain.

The only way to find out would be to summon him.

___

ao3 link

#pinhead x reader #pinhead #the cenobite #dead by daylight #hellraiser #lemon tag #request #ask #anon #oneshot #my writing #slasher x reader #I don't consider PH a slasher but eh it's a general label for some #thank you :3 #tumblr keeps trying to correct my spelling to the british spelling and that's Not Correct

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anaveragebibliophile · 3 years

Text

All For Him

Young!Legolas x Thranduil x Wife!Reader

Summary: Lord Elrond comes to Mirkwood to ask a favor of his oldest friend, Thranduil. However, the stoic, unyielding king isn’t as willing to follow through on the request because of the danger it will put his family in.

Honestly, when you stumbled into your husband’s study that morning, you didn’t expect to feel so puzzled and flabbergasted. You didn’t anticipate Thran’s summons to be anything more than a request for information about Legolas (which you were happy to provide), a question regarding supper, or an idea for date night. So the last person you expected to see was Lord Elrond, the ruler of Rivendell, arguing with his trusted confidant and friend of many eons near the balcony.

“Thran, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” you queried as you stepped into the room, incisors biting into your lower lip.

“Queen (y/n), what a pleasant surprise,” Lord Elrond replied, consequently ending the argument, as he walked over to take your wrist and place a chaste, respectful kiss on the back of your hand. “My sincerest apologies for not seeking you out sooner.”

“That’s quite alright, Elrond. You know that. I too wish I had known you were here earlier, but I unfortunately got sidelined. We took a short walk in the gardens this morning, all three of us, when Legolas ended up tripping on a very small rock. Thranduil and I tried to utilize the open--and what we thought was a safe--space as a way for him to grow more comfortable walking without our help. That strategy worked well for us. Until today. None of us had seen the ant-sized pebble roll over his tiny heel, making him lose his balance and unknowingly place his hand on a grounded bee’s stinger to stabilize himself.”

“My goodness! How is he doing?”

“As well as can be expected. As he got himself up, he whimpered a little bit which isn’t normally like him. Even if he takes a tumble, he’ll usually still maintain his normal demeanor--sweet, timid, and smiley. But once we saw his palm start to swell up, we knew something was wrong. Thran rushed him to the healer, who was more than willing to keep an eye on him. Ever since then, he’s been given herbs to reduce the swelling and irritation at the site of the wound as well as water to keep him hydrated. Thank you for asking.”

Once you finished sharing that traumatizing experience, you looked over to your husband, whose face was devoid of color. Out of the two of you, he had been the most panicked over Legolas’ well-being. ‘Is he breathing?’ he’d asked. ‘What if he has a reaction to the toxins?’ he’d wondered. ‘What if we didn’t get him to the healer’s quarters in time?’ he’d said, voice cracking under all the emotions. Unfortunately, the man is an aggressive worrier who feels the most stress when he’s involved in a situation that’s completely out of his control. His son inadvertently getting stung by a bee? Yeah, definitely an event that drove your husband up a wall.

“He’s doing fine, Thran. He and I cuddled in his rocking chair for about twenty minutes before he fell asleep. Before that though, he did want me to tell you that he loves you,” I said, trying to soothe him as best as I could given the circumstances.

Even though Legolas is still quite young and not fluent in Sindarin yet, he does have a few sentences that he likes to use every now and again. His favorite though is ‘gi melin’, the Sindarian version of ‘I love you’. Anytime he’s reunited with you or Thran, he’ll smile so wide (with his one tooth showing itself off) and almost shout the words out (as if you won’t hear him clearly without that extra pizzaz). Both you and your husband agree that it’s probably the sweetest thing your little leaf has ever done (and Legolas is the epitome of sweet).

“I love him too. More than life. Which is why I cannot allow Sauron’s ring and its company to enter Mirkwood. I am sorry, Elrond, but my answer is final. You will not be able to change my mind on the subject,” your husband said.

“Sauron’s ring? So young Frodo is alive then, is he not? I heard about your daughter saving him from the hands of the Nazgûl but wasn’t sure of its veracity,” you mentioned.

“Yes. He is recovered and wishes to continue on the quest to destroy the ring at Mount Doom. However, we are trying to avoid the company’s traveling in the open at night and are looking for places for them to seek refuge. I am trying to convince Thranduil to offer his kingdom, but it seems that that has been more difficult than I originally presumed. He fears for your safety and Legolas’ too much.”

Speaking of Legolas, a soft knock on the door soon presented you with the little leaf in the arms of his nanny, Elva.

“Legolas, darling, what are you doing up so early?” I asked, my lips perking up into a small grin.

“Ada, Nana!” he blubbered, pointing to us. “Gi melin, gi melin, gi melin.”

“I apologize, Your Majesties. As you can see, the prince woke up a bit early from his nap. All of the maids attempted to keep him occupied in his chambers, but it was no use. He only wanted to see his nostairi (parents),” Elva explained.

“That is quite alright, Elva. I have not seen enough of him today. Thank you for bringing him to us,” your husband responded, moving over as Legolas reached out for him, and, once in his arms, began snuggling into his chest. “Hello, iôn nîn. I hope you slept well.”

“How’s his hand, Thran?”

Your husband took your question as an opportunity to lightly pull Legolas’ right arm out from where it was hiding in front of his stomach. “It is still a tad swollen but not too severe.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“Nana, gi melin,” your son whispered behind your husband’s robes.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you responded, lightly running your fingers through his hair and down his back.

Watching the interaction ensue, Thranduil softly smiled down at the two loves of his life. The first one--his wife--who taught him the beauty behind exuding kindness, positivity, and light. The one who guided him back to the meaning of life. And the second one--his son--who embodies all the genuine goodness that his wife bestowed upon him in their early years together. He’ll never know how he got so lucky, but that unknown answer will never prevent him from being grateful.

“Ada, gi melin,” your son quietly hummed as he lifted himself up to kiss Thran’s cheek.

“Iôn nîn, gi melin as well. Very much.”

But then the unthinkable happened. Your little leaf turned his body away from Thranduil to look at Elrond. “Gi melin!” he shouted, a smile creeping up his face (with his lone tooth on display).

“Well, I cannot say I am not shocked,” the lord responded, just as confounded as the rest of the group. Although Legolas was a very empathetic elfling, the reality was that he only shared that sentence with two people: his parents. So his sharing that sentiment with another-- a person he doesn’t spend every day with, let alone see once a month--was very odd, yet exciting in its own way. In your mind, maybe this was a sign that he was feeling more comfortable around his parents’ trusted friends. Maybe he saw the camaraderie in the room and felt soothed by it. Maybe he was no longer experiencing such debilitating episodes of timidity.

“It appears he has taken a strong liking to you, Elrond,” you responded. “And now that you know the depth of his affections, are you truly going to permit an evil, dark presence permeating Mirkwood’s halls?”

He pondered that question in no time at all before saying, “No. I will not be the one to put this child at risk. Perhaps Frodo and his company can stay a few extra days at Rivendell. It really is not a problem.”

At that declaration, you and Thranduil humbly nodded (hiding your smiles as best you could because this was a serious matter after all). “Thank you, my friend. Your concern for our son is much appreciated and will never be forgotten.”

“I know you would have done the same for me had I been in your shoes. Legolas deserves to be safe and comforted in his own kingdom without his parents having to worry about whether the ring will wreak havoc and harm him in the process. Besides, I want to return to Mirkwood in a few months’ time and still be on his list of love.” And everyone, including Legolas, giggled at that.

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yanderes-galore · 3 years

Text

Xenophobic Chapter 5: Traitor's Testing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Human testing, Implied death and Manipulation.

"What the hell, you must be malfunctioning!" Carl screams at Liam, said android standing by the lab entrance. "You plan on creating more Xenomorphs to make them 'bond' with humans? Isn't the one we got you enough!?"

"Private Carl, that is none of your business. My research is important for the future, you must understand that." Liam says coldly as Carl shakes his head.

"You're planning on dragging (Y/N) into this, aren't you?" Carl argues again as Liam sighs. "I should've known you were nothing but trouble. She would never go near one of those monsters. She was so shaken up and tired when she came up to me after you bred the first one!"

"You are a loud one, aren't you? Perhaps you would like to help me in my research?" Liam hums as Carl backs off.

"The hell do you mean-"

"Isn't it obvious...?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Liam was certainly rough when it came to testing. One thing that wasn't to his liking and he would scrap the attempt and gas you again. The strong smelling gas weighed heavily in your lungs and even you could tell 526 was getting annoyed.

How long had it been? Days? Liam refused to tell you anything. You wondered why no one was coming to check up on you. Did Liam tell them something?

That thought plagued your mind constantly. Did anyone know that Liam was doing this to you? Did Carl know? Maybe they didn't and that's why no one came.

Someone had to know you're missing, right? Maybe you haven't been gone days. Was it only a few hours?

526 only ever got more irritable. Testing his knowledge was getting more difficult. Liam was getting irritated at 526 and you, too

"Could you at least tell me if anyone knows where I am?" You find yourself mumbling, eyes drifting fearfully towards 526 pacing back and forth in his cell. At least Liam separated them now.

"That's not important to my research."

"It's important to me! Wouldn't it be better to keep my morale up to get better results?" You try to bargain, Liam staring at you. He sighs and gives in.

"Yes, they do."

"Are they coming!?" You breathe, standing up and pressing against the glass. The sensors and gadgets Liam put on you to monitor your well being were heavy and you were tired from not getting decent oxygen. Standing quickly became a struggle.

"No, they aren't." Liam's voice is robotic, cold. Your heart clenches at his words. It was a stupid question but you had to at least ask.

"They...what?" You can't believe it. Was he lying to you? You already knew trusting him got you into this mess.

"They know better than to interfere with my testing. Marines are always busy, scientists want results, why do they need to stop me?" Liam's smile is malicious towards you.

Oddly you hear no hissing from 526, who usually acts up at Liam. You turn to see 526 silent in his containment cell. Observing.

He swivels his head around his cell and then locks onto you and Liam again. It's unnerving to you. You didn't notice until Liam pointed it out but your eyes were welling up with tears. Your situation was getting to you.

"I can understand learning that everyone you care about, including your dear Carl, betrayed you is devastating to the human mind. I'll give you some time to recover before we continue." Liam offers before sitting nearby. Androids were always so cold.

The thought of Carl and the others betraying you made your heart ache. You really had no one left, huh?

From one tragedy to another, you were forced to play along.

---------

For now you did what Liam said. Maybe when testing concluded you could finally be free and see if Liam was telling the truth.

Most of the tests included Intelligence testing for 526. You still had to cooperate in them because you were 526's supposed 'attachment'. Meant to be some sort of companion with the Alien.

Intelligence tests started simple to match 526's curiosity and child like intellect. Block puzzles, basic switches and levers, attempted communication between Xenomorph and Human.

Other tests included agility and compatibility tests. You would be given light weight armor and put in a course with 526. While you were happy that 526 would not be aggressive towards you, you felt something could go wrong.

526 also had a type of armor mostly to match with you as the companion. It was more like a training vest on him. Of course, in these tests weapons were prohibited. An attempt to escape and violence against Liam or each other would set off the ankle bracelet to gas you, also.

You theorized what Liam's goal was. Create a weapon using pairs of Xenomorphs and Humans. You and 526 happened to be prototypes.

Through testing you noticed how fast 526 could learn. Intelligence tests became faster, agility courses would be passed with flying colors.

Liam was more fascinated with 526's reaction with you, however. It was always just vacant staring at you through his cell or testing. It was clear throughout these tests 526 was curious of you.

The reason was yet to be found, however.

526 tended to space out a lot, too.

You wondered what was going on within his head, not like you'd ever understand.

No matter how much Liam forced you to, you could never understand a Xenomorph.

--------

When the lights were eventually shut off, it was quiet. The alien wasn't tired as he had no need to sleep. His gaze turns to the human girl.

The human that he was forced to suffer with. He felt indifferent to the human at first, yet through the testing he and the human were supposed to endure, he cared a little more.

She hated the metallic creature just as much as him, so they have something in common. Carefully, 526 looked around the lab one more time.

The speaker like device on the ceiling was silent. The vents that gas would flow in by were dangerous to traverse through. Carefully, 526 then observed the ankle bracelet and the glass. A clawed hand touches the cool surface softly in what seemed to be thought.

526 was tried of playing dumb for the metallic creature's amusement. It was the time he'd been waiting for.

#yandere x reader #xenomorph #yandere xenomorph #horror #female reader #yandere alien #xenomorph x reader

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solcheeky · 3 years

Note

Hii I absolutely loved that one sided love angst with hyuck and was wondering if you’d be willing to write it from the other side with Jeno dating the friend without having feelings for them? I feel like he’d be the type to feel too bad to reject someone he’s close with

summary: all jeno wants to do is keep you happy. so when you ask him to be your boyfriend, he says yes because what else could make you happier? if that’s what you wanted, that’s what he’ll give. even if that means pretending he loves you the way you love him. (3k)

genre: college au!, angst, gn!reader warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of sex (but none of it) a/n: thank you for reading the hyuck one! though I can’t lie, it’s sort of difficult to write an exact plot I’ve already written before, sorry!! so I’ve changed things up a bit! but it’s still angst though, and under the same premises :)

“Don’t you think Jeno is a little… Hard to read, sometimes?”

Donghyuck swallows his drink hard, before placing his bottle back onto the picnic table and sending you a weird look.

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” He scratches behind his ear then pushes up his sunglasses. “Wait, not even. You guys have been friends since… Before we even met. If anyone can read him, that’s you.”

Logically speaking, he was right.

But why didn’t it feel that way at all?

As you try to think of the right words to say, you fiddle with a leaf that had fallen from a branch of the tree hanging above your table.

“Are you guys in a fight or something?” Donghyuck steals back your attention. He had a weirdly calm look on his face for someone who was apparently concerned.

You sigh. Not exactly, “no.”

You weren’t fighting. Or at least, if it was a fight, you couldn’t say exactly when or how it even started.

Things were normal, like how they always were (you think), but there was something off about Jeno you just couldn’t put your finger on.

Except, whether things had only been like this recently, or whether it had been like this ever since you started dating but you’d only noticed now, you couldn’t tell.

It wasn’t that Jeno was directing any anger at you, he hadn’t done anything abrupt or out right mean at all.

If anything, he was doing exactly everything you ask for.

Yet somehow, you felt a sort of… distant from him, like there was a weird shift between your relationship you hadn’t been aware of until it felt too late—like you’d done all the buttons up wrong.

And how were you supposed to even begin to explain all that to Donghyuck if you couldn’t even pinpoint it?

“It’s not a fight,” you opt to say, but it comes out almost like a question. “It’s just-”

“Hey!”

Instinctively, both of you turn to face the direction in which the voice came from.

A few paces away, Mark Lee and your boyfriend were cutting through the grass and heading towards your table, it looked like they had just finished class.

You turn back to Donghyuck before they get within hearing range and mutter, “doesn’t matter.”

Except Donghyuck doesn’t even have time to reply because Mark pushes his shoulder with a strong hand, the other on the strap of his backpack, as he shoves him further down the bench to make space for him to sit.

“Move over!” The familiar, cheerful smile on his face makes you feel like things are back to normal, even just for a brief moment.

“Argh, Mark, seriously.” Donghyuck groans as he pushes his bottle and leather gym satchel across the table with him.

“What?” Mark’s laughing as he shuffles into the bench too, “I can’t sit on that side, can I?” He raises a playful brow at Jeno who was standing on your left.

You look over your shoulder and he smiles down at you.

“Hey,” he reaches down to pat you, palm warmly stroking the curve of your head before leaning down to place a brief kiss into your temple.

“Hi.” You say with a quiet smile as he slips into your side of the bench.

By now, Mark had already taken his attention off Jeno. “Why are you wearing sunglasses? It’s not that sunny.”

Donghyuck scoffs at the elder’s audacity. “The sun is clearly in the sky though, isn’t it? Use that big head of yours.”

But their bickering easily becomes background noise when Jeno gently takes the small leaf you were playing with from between your fingers and spins it between his finger and thumb.

He cutely looks at you in question and you just shrug.

So he flicks it away and slips his hand into yours instead and squeezes.

You squeeze back. “We still on for tonight?” Your voice low lest you interrupt Mark and Donghyuck’s ‘loving’ conversation.

You were planning to sleepover at his—weird to think that it was something you had gone out of your way to schedule but, it was nearing exam season and both your slots for free time had fit together like a box full of the wrong puzzle pieces.

It doesn’t take more than a second for Jeno to reply with a happy, “yes, of course.”

But a lump forms in the back of your throat at the urge to tell him you know he’s forced that answer out.

Later, when it’s already deep into the day, Jeno texts you to let you know he’ll be a little late

Although you kind of wished he’d told you sooner; you were already standing outside of his door.

Your first thought is not to tell him—knowing Jeno, the guilt would drive him crazy—and you probably would have done so that way if you were still friends. But things were different now; you were dating.

You should be comfortable enough to be completely transparent with him, even if about things as small as this.

Plus, he’d probably feel even guiltier if you didn’t tell him.

Except when Jeno does get the text, he feels even worse.

Not just because he’s left you hanging around wasting the rare time you could’ve spent together, but because it was entirely his fault that he was late.

He had managed to get off his lecture earlier than usual which gave him an extra hour to spare before your scheduled arrival time.

Usually that would mean he’d tell you right away so you could push that time earlier to have even longer to spend together.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Jeno wanted something else to occupy his mind other than you.

Was that bad of him? Probably… Maybe—He didn’t want to convince himself anything. As long as you didn’t find out why, everything would stay the same. At least that was what he was convincing himself to think.

So, Jeno was quick to chuck his bag full of study notes by his doorway, pick up some gear and his bike and immediately head out.

Just a few miles, he told himself. Nothing better to clear his mind than a quick workout, right?

Wrong.

You wouldn’t slip from his mind no matter what he tried to do.

All Jeno could think about was how he promised himself he would make this relationship work regardless of whether that meant he had to cross an ocean just to make the you that was in love with him, feel loved.

Inevitably, those thoughts eventually watered down to how bad of a job he’s been doing of it all.

It was probably bad enough he’d just referred to your relationship as a job.

Yeah, alright, this was worse than bad.

It’s just that you were so happy—the face you made when he said yes to being your boyfriend was all he ever wanted for you.

Logically, he thought that keeping things in tandem with what you expressed happiness for, would be enough to see that same smile again.

Jeno held your hand when you wanted it. He kissed you how you liked it. He let you sleep in his bed and sleep with him because that’s what you needed from him.

That’s all he ever wanted for you. So why did it feel like it wasn’t enough?

He was your boyfriend now. Wasn’t that supposed to make it easier?

Not to say that it was hard when you were labelled as friends—just that certain boundaries couldn’t be crossed and there was no way to stop eventualities of you finding someone else that would make you happy.

Jeno didn’t want that; he didn’t want to see you with another person. But the label ‘boyfriend’ on his own forehead almost felt like a burden, even though he knew he loved you. It was all really confusing.

Breaking it down, Jeno knew that you meant a lot to him. Really, he just wanted to give you the love you deserved. So being your boyfriend felt like the right choice, like it was the right thing to do if that’s what it meant to give you all his love.

But somehow becoming the ‘boyfriend’ felt even further away from you than when he was just a ‘friend’.

And at this point, Jeno was too far into this. Spending time with you was great, but it confused him. He had lost what defined the boundaries of how a boyfriend makes one happy, versus a friend.

Sometimes he even thought, what was so good about the label ‘boyfriend’? Was it worth all the things he’s done for you?

He had thought too hard and too much he didn’t even realize how far out he’d cycled; it was so far there was no way he could cycle back the same route in time to meet you.

Dangerously, a small, small, small part of him was glad.

But, no.

Jeno shakes his fringe out of his eyes and pedals faster. Just get home first, he tells himself, he can deal with that thought another time.

When Jeno finally arrives, he’s lugging his bike towards you, sweat dripping down his temples and breath still a few paces behind.

“Sorry,” he manages to breathe out, wiping the sweat across his brow with the back of his wrist before he leans past your frame to unlock his door.

You bite back a bit of a laugh, “you look crazy.”

He lets out a relieved smile and you tip on your toes to press a quick kiss into it.

A surprised sound muffles into your lips when you do, like he was about to say something but you had got to his lips first.

You pull away with a scrunched up face. “Salty.”

That makes him laugh. “Come on then.” He pushes the door open and guides you in first.

After putting away his bike, he shuts the door behind him and chucks his gear away while you place your things onto his desk chair.

“I’m gonna shower first.” He pulls off his gloves and watches as you spin to face him with a small smile.

From anyone else's point of view, you looked fine. You stood tall, a sweet smile across your lips and eyes full of affection for your boyfriend.

But Jeno knew better than that.

He throws his gloves into the hamper and pauses with his hands on the hem of his top. “Want to join?”

Your eyes light up and the heavy guilt on his chest suffocates him a little less.

“Only if you want me to.” You tilt your head to the side. If he was going to be quick, there was no harm in you waiting an extra 10 minutes, sure, you can handle that much.

But Jeno only wanted it because he knew you did. He knew every minute together meant way more to you now that you rarely saw each other.

So he nods his head towards the bathroom door to gesture for you to come, then proceeds to pull his top over his torso.

With Jeno’s shoulders under the showerhead, you keep your arms resting on the dip of his hip bones for warmth.

His own hands are in your hair, fingers gently massaging your scalp and temples, with a cute concentrated look across his face.

“Turn around for me.” He slowly presses a kiss into your forehead and you hum in compliance.

“I can do you instead, you know?” Now that you’re facing the other way you can’t read his face.

His thumbs press into the nape of your neck, following the direction of your spine into your scalp and your shoulders completely lose tension.

Jeno presses his lips into a straight line and hums a comfortable ‘no, it’s okay’. He was fine like this.

“Let me do this for you.” His low voice vibrates a lot closer to your ears than before.

It almost distracts you from your previous thoughts, but his words echo in your mind once more.

‘Let me do this for you.’ You know… That seemed to be all he was doing lately...

Now that you really think about it, you can’t recall Jeno ever doing anything for himself; it was always you before him.

He was always looking out for you—maybe never directly verbal—but he never failed to show how much cared by how much he noticed about you, whether that meant lending you his shoulder on stressful days of work, or for things even just as small as giving you his pen for the day because you forgot yours.

“Jeno?”

“Mhm? Ah!—Too strong?” His fingers come to a stop at the assumption he’s massaging you too hard.

“No,” you take his hand from behind your head and turn around to look at him in the eyes.

Jeno blinks at you in confusion.

Your eyes drop away from his face. “You’d tell me if there was something bothering you, right?”

At first, his brows crease together.

But then he’s laughing, eyes smiling as he calls you cute under his breath whilst releasing the grip of your hand on his wrist and affectionately brushing the bubbles away from the top of your eyebrow with his thumb.

“What are you talking about?” Jeno presses his forehead into yours so you can look at him and see that smile of his you love so much, “Is there something wrong?”

“No…” Not with you. But if there was with him you’d listen.

He presses his lips against yours. “I’m okay if you’re okay.”

Those words were a little tricky.

On the surface, they seemed like a sweet thing to say. Yet you knew it subconsciously meant something deeper.

But, you let it slide just this once.

The next time you’re in his room, it’s a week later and a day earlier than you had previously scheduled.

But instead of cute showers together, you have his heavy arm slung around your shoulder and alcohol breath against your cheek.

“Sorry.” Jeno’s half slurring as he nuzzles into your jaw.

You kick his door closed from behind you and heave his weight against your hip more. “Don’t worry about it.” At least he was sober enough to apologize now.

You had just come back from the bar nearest your campus where Donghyuck was stupidly holding an ‘end of the first exam’ event (A.K.A. any excuse for endless food and rowdy drinking games on a friday night).

Jeno releases his arm from off your shoulder and places a hand on the wall.

“Can you get me some water?” He presses his eyes closed and manages to take a step forward.

You think the cold night walk from the bar had kicked some sense of reality into him. “Yeah, can you manage?” You reach a hand out behind his waist just in case.

But he just hums and slowly continues his way forward with his fingers pinching between his brows.

It was okay if he closed his eyes, he knew his room like the back of his hand anyway.

As you rip open the pack of water by his door and pull a bottle out, Jeno drops his jacket off his arms and onto the floor before he slumps into his bed with a sigh.

By the time you approach his bedside, he’s sprawled out over his duvet with his eyes closed.

You open the bottle for him and he blindly takes it. “You don’t usually drink this much.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Is everything okay?”

Ever since you asked Jeno that question in the shower, he seemed as if he was extra cautious about the things he said. And maybe that was just your own imagination. Or maybe you somewhat wanted him to have a secret. Maybe you subconsciously wanted a reason to justify why he acts the way he does.

Jeno nods as he gingerly lifts his head just to drink some water.

“If there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.” You want to ask for more, but you don’t want to force anything out of him.

Sure, sometimes you might find it hard to discern what exactly goes on inside Jeno’s head. But just because you couldn’t read anything off him, didn’t mean he didn’t have any thoughts.

You at least know him well enough to understand how much goes on inside that selfless head of his, despite his generous puppy smiles and lack of verbalisation.

You know he worries a lot—Less about himself and more so about everyone else around him. So you can’t help but think he’s hiding something. Jeno’s more observant than others think.

With a frown, he reaches up to put the bottle onto his side table with a nod.

Then it clicks.

“Did.. Did I say something?” He leans up on one elbow, voice unintentionally baring a touch of mortification.

“What?—No.” You press a hand into his shoulder to get him to lie down again. “No.” Really, he didn’t. That was the problem.

You push his hair away from his forehead and he sighs sleepily.

Thank god, Jeno thinks. To him, he wasn’t exactly hiding anything from you. He thinks purposely ‘hiding’ something was different to just ‘not saying’ something.

Not that he was trying to get off from this with a technicality. Jeno loved you. He really did.

But somehow this ‘love’ just wasn’t turning out the way he thought it would.

And that was something he needed to figure out for himself.

“You.. You don’t have to know...” Is the last thing he says before he falls asleep.

Did you really mean that little to him?

You thought you could be as reliable to him as he was to you.

Were you just ...not enough?

to be continued...

reply below on this post if you want me to tag you when I post part 2 :)

a/n: I think this could’ve easily been a full prose fic, but,,, I’m lazy,, also I feel like I don’t know jeno’s character well enough to convincingly write about what he’d say, think or do ;/ but anyways! thank you for this request, just the perfect thing to give my brain a break from writing my endless hyuck and mark content

also! disclaimer(?) guys! please don’t do what ‘jeno’ is doing in this fic hahahaha this is setting a bad example of what a relationship and labels could mean! in short, what I wrote about was Damage -100hp and Dumb 500hp lmfao so don’t do it (or more so wish for it👁👁)

but yeah, I’m open to discourse in my ask box as much as I was for the hyuck version of this fic if anyone needs/wants to talk about anything! (I’ll also tag it as #os if anyone wants to filter it out)

scroll through these if you'd like the read the hyuck angst discourse

or read the hyuck version of this fic here!

#neowritingsnet #lee jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno angst #jeno drabbles #jeno imagines #jeno fanfic #jeno lee #jeno x you #jeno x reader #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct drabbles

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nightshade-minho · 3 years

Text

Blue Book -(13)-

wc: 5k+

warnings: making out, some uncomfortable situations, angst, smut, oral, degradation, unprotected sex etc.

It was the day after the kiss, and you still hadn’t gotten over it. How could you? You could still feel his lips against yours, still remember the way he tasted. If the night hadn’t ended so abruptly, you wondered where it would have gone.

Sobering up Minho hadn’t been a difficult task. Thankfully he was mature enough. He listened to you, drank the water you gave him, and went back to sleep as soon as the two of you reached your home. You were glad he knew how to cooperate with you, thankfully your best friend knows when he’s gone too far.

He was still asleep, now. Usually he liked waking up earlier, but today was clearly an exception.

You sighed as you made yourself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, your eyes staring into the milk and wishing you could drown in them, when Minho walked into the room. He let out a small sigh under his breath as he saw you at the table. Last night was a blur, and he could barely remember anything. His brain was swimming with a million different emotions and thoughts as he ran his eyes over you. Hm.

He yawned, stretching and plopping down on the seat opposite you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked groggily, not looking up.

“Better. A lot better, actually.” He sighed, leaning forward. “I’m so so sorry, Y/n. It was irresponsible of me, I feel so bad for making you leave the party and cutting your night short.”

“Well, when one of my best friends is drunk and having a breakdown in the bathroom, what else am I supposed to do?” You sighed and sat back, staring at his remorseful face. “What was that all about, anyway?”

Minho sighed. There was no way he could tell you, no way he could express the guilt he was feeling.

"I don't know. I was just...crying for no reason at all. Alcohol can do that to you, I guess. No biggie."

You sighed. "No biggie? I- you know what, whatever." You sat up. "If you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, that's fine. Just don't do it again."

You looked at Minho, his expression twisting your heart. He just looked so….sad. It made you regret your words.

"Hey, Min…" You shifted your chair closer to his. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

He sniffed at that, looking away and at his feet. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't seem that way." He mumbled, thinking back to last night. He'd been way too drunk to recall it properly, but he could still vaguely remember you and Chan, standing too close for it to be anything innocent. What had the two of you been doing before he’d interrupted?

"What?" Your eyes narrowed in confusion as you stared at him, his words puzzling you. “Min-"

He shook his head, patting your hair. "It's okay, Y/n. Forget I ever said anything, okay?" You opened your mouth to protest but he placed his finger over your lips before you could say anything. "Shh. Let's watch a movie or something, I just want to get my mind off everything that’s happening.”

You groaned, ready to protest again as soon as he pulled away from you. However he'd already grabbed the remote by then, switching on the TV and dragging you over to the couch. There was a random movie already playing onscreen, a scene of a ballroom filled with dancing couples catching your eye.

"Min, gimme a second, I haven’t even washed my bowl-“

"Shh."

He chuckled as he suddenly began twirling you around the room, ignoring your whiny protests as the classical music flooded the space.

"Come on Y/n. Just let go. We didn't get to finish our dance last night anyway." He whispered in your ear, suddenly picking you up by the waist and swirling you around.

You let out a squeal, holding onto him tighter. "M-min, put me down-"

He did so, continuing to dance. "Y/nnie~ You know you want to~" He smirked, giggling softly as he observed your expression change slightly.

His laugh had always been contagious. You let a small smile grace your face, making his grin grow wider. You rolled your eyes and started following his rhythm, giggling.

"Yes! Finally.” He excitedly continued your little waltz, looking down at you. You'd started to co-operate, and he felt himself smile at the sight. He felt so happy whenever he was spending time with you. So calm and at ease.

He loved watching you smile. And being the reason behind it only made him happier.

"You're perfect, Y/n." He mumbled softly under his breath, his eyes running over your face.

You didn't hear him properly, the music drowning out his voice.

He couldn't help but bite his lip as he looked at you. Fuck, how did he ever find it in himself to hurt you the way he had all those years ago?

He could stare at you forever if he could. His eyes carefully took in each eyelash, the curve of your cheeks, the slope of your lips- he wished he could freeze this moment forever, so that he would never forget how you looked happy and smiling.

If there was one thing Minho knew he regretted, it was his behaviour back then. He knew he'd been a terrible person. Perhaps he could compare himself to a black hole, one that sucked out all the positivity and happiness in a room.

There'd been a time when all he felt as soon as he saw your face was hatred. Clouded judgments that had messed with his decisions, making him act like a complete asshole. All he had in his mind back then was rage, directed at you and the man you were linked to. The man who had ruined his family’s life.

But now, when he looked at you, he only felt calmness and a sense of safety. It just felt right, you being in his arms. After all, now he knew you’d been a victim as well. You’d gone through it all too, the same abuse and abandonment that had happened to him. It was the same man who had brought the two of you down.

You smiled at him as you gave in completely, dancing with him and letting go of your inhibitions. The music overtook your heart as you went along, dancing with him as you stared into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking about.

He came to a halt as the music slowed, staring at your face adoringly. Your beautiful, smiling, happy face. His eyes carefully took in your features once more, a soft smile gracing his lips.

And somehow, he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. The sight of your big doe eyes looking up into his was affecting him too much.

This was a bad idea...

He knew that all too well. It was the opposite of what he'd decided to do last night, which was to let you go and set things right.

But...but why not?

Fuck it. Maybe it was a reckless decision, but who cares? He deserved happiness too, right?

Minho let the hand on your waist drift up to your cheek, and before you could even process what was happening…

His lips were pressed to yours.

For a minute, you didn't know how to react. It was a foreign feeling, and you hadn’t really expected something like this to happen.

Although it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant, you still felt surprise and confusion overtake you as your eyes widened. You could barely process it, your thoughts flitting all over the place frantically.

Minho frowned as he noticed your lack of reaction, your lips barely moving against his.

He pulled away quickly, stumbling over his words.

Shit, what had he done? "Fuck, I'm sorry, Y/n-"

You looked up, blinking as you stared at his worried face. His eyes were frantic as they flitted around, his brain clearly overrun with thoughts as his mouth opened to blurt out more apologies.

As you stared at his heaving chest, your eyes wandering up to his lips, a sudden thought flew into your brain.

You weren’t quite sure where it came from or whether you should even follow it... but as the seconds went by, the more the urge took over you. You’d never really felt like this before.

You didn’t know what it was in you that prompted you to do it...a need for revenge on Chan? Or did you actually have feelings for your best friend? You weren’t sure.

You pulled Minho back towards you quickly, kissing him back desperately. He responded almost immediately, whining against your lips at the force with which you were kissing him.

You didn't know what you were feeling, though.

It felt nice kissing him,definitely...it felt comfortable, and his lips were so sweet and soft.

However...there was an evident lack of passion. At least from your side.

It was just rough. That's all you could feel from the kiss- roughness. And that was your fault really...Minho's initial approach had been much softer. You’d been the one to turn the kiss into what it was now.

Minho gripped your hips, moving you over to the wall. He pinned you against it, molding his lips against yours in another angle.

It still didn't feel right. Chan's kisses were so different...his lips were so much softer and plumper, and the way he kissed you made you feel like you were on top of the world, even when it was rough.

He’d been your first kiss. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect one, really. You’d felt safe and secure in his arms, even as the thunderstorm raged in the background. His lips had made you forget it all, made you focus on nothing but how wonderful it felt to have him pressed against you.

You snapped back to the present and realized Minho had moved onto your neck, leaving kisses there as his hand migrated down your body to play with the waistband of your sweatpants.

Oh. Shit, you were making a mistake.

You pushed him away suddenly, regretting it as you accidentally did it with a little too much force. Minho looked at you in confusion, his chest heaving as he stared at you.

“Y/n?”

“No.” You scrunched your eyes shut, taking in a shaky breath. “We can’t do this.”

“But- but why?”

“It’s just wrong. It feels wrong.”

The flash of hurt in his eyes made you regret your choice of words. You scrambled to fix your mistake, standing up straight and stepping around him.

“I’m sorry...uh, it’s just- don’t you think it’s weird?” You bit your lip, staring at him as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Weird?”

“Us. I just never thought you felt that way about me. I’m your stepsister-“

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you.

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you. “What? No. I’ve never seen you in that way.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the kind of relationship we have, and you know it too. That would have been the case if that bastard was still alive, but he isn’t. He isn’t a part of our lives at all, he doesn’t even fucking exist to me!” He shouted, blinking rapidly and breathing heavily as your words bore into his brain.

Was that really what you saw yourself as? His stepsister? The thought disgusted him. He’d never viewed you in such a light, and thinking of you seeing him like that was unsettling, to say the least.

Minho was suddenly feeling an urgent need to throw up.

“Any link created by him is not real, Y/n. We’re not fucking related.”

“But- look, I just-“ you stared at the ceiling, trying to find the right words to say. The man in front of you looked devastated, and that in turn made your heart ache. “We share a sister. And, I don’t know, you were always just my best friend. I never thought you felt anything for me.” You mumbled out, not even knowing what you were saying. You’d never actually seen Minho as your brother- but you’d never seen him in a romantic light either.

“I think I made it pretty fucking obvious.”

“No you didn’t! I just thought you were being a good friend. And how could I ever think you’d have feelings for me after the way you treated me when we were younger?”

He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Y/n…I thought you’d forgiven me for that. You said you did.”

“W-well…I haven’t forgotten.” You sighed and pinched your forehead, taking another step back.

“I’m sorry, Minho. I really am.” Deep down, you knew it was just an excuse. It all was. You felt terrible at the moment...it wasn’t really his fault.

You knew the real reason already. Your heart belonged to somebody else, unfortunately.

He just shook his head, sinking down onto the couch as he stared at the ground. “It’s okay.” He said in the softest voice possible.

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at him, your heart clenching as you observed his expression. Heartbroken and covered in silent devastation. It was new, seeing him like this. Minho rarely let things get under his skin, so seeing him on the verge of tears was disturbing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said, sighing. “Just want you to be happy.” He added in a mumble- but you couldn’t hear him.

There was an awkward silence for a while, as you shifted from one foot to another. The room suddenly felt heavy and nauseating, your heart pounding in confusion.

“C-can I step out for a bit?” You asked, twisting your fingers. “I just need to clear my mind.”

He nodded slightly, leaning back against the sofa and staring at the TV silently, his eyes glazed over as the screen continued playing the gaudy movie.

Taking that as a yes, you went over to the front door, putting on your shoes with some difficulty as you tried to focus.

Looking back one more time, you left without a word.

***

It was raining lightly, and you groaned as you walked down the street without an umbrella. It wasn’t heavy enough to soak you, but it still felt a little unpleasant as your clothes started sticking to your body.

You hadn’t wanted to hurt Minho, but you evidently had. Surely you could have handled it some other way? Now you’d hurt your best friend, the one person you’d trusted besides Felix. And all for what?

Did Chan even like you? Was it all still just a bet to him? Had the kiss meant anything?

Who were you even reserving your heart for?

Your mind was filled with thoughts as you reached your home, unlocking the door and stepping in silently. Your clothes hadn’t gotten that wet, so you didn’t bother to change clothes as you headed straight to your room. The whole apartment was kinda dark, and you couldn’t really see anything.

Opening your door, you stumbled through the dark room and climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets higher up and closing your eyes. You were just so tired, and all these intrusive thoughts didn’t help one bit.

A nap might clear it all up, hopefully.

***

Isn’t it funny how one could manage to lose everything important to them, all in the span of a few minutes?

Minho sat on the sofa, feeling like he’d lost everything. Everything that ever meant anything to him, all because of his reckless, impulsive decisions and terrible judgment.

But he’d known this would have happened, sooner or later. There was no point in being angry at himself, or Chan, or you- or anyone, really. He couldn’t have held his feelings in forever, and he should have known the consequences that such a choice could bear.

Was this what karma felt like?

Minho leaned back in the couch and buried his face in his hands, relishing the darkness that graced his eyes.

It was all his fault. Everything was.

Always had been. He deserved this.

***

You didn’t know how long you’d slept for, all you knew was that you were well rested now. Turning around sleepily, you reached for your phone, switching it on.

The first thing you saw was a bunch of messages from Minho, your phone pinging with so many notifications that it nearly vibrated off the table.

I’m sorry.

I fucked up, Y/n

Please come back

Y/n?

I want to explain, I want to talk to you

I have some things to tell you.

I’m sorry please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me

You mean so much to me. I don’t want to lose you.

You blinked as you read the messages, tears pricking your eyes as you sat up. You checked the time, it was afternoon. You wanted to sleep just a little more, and then maybe have lunch. After that, you’d head back to Minho’s apartment to talk, and hear him out on whatever he wanted to say.

You sighed, sliding back down. Needing something to hug and make you feel better, you turned around and felt around for your pillow. Inching closer, you wrapped your arms and legs around the soft warmth next to you.

Wait. This...this definitely wasn’t a pillow.

Fuck.

You shot up in bed and screamed, scrambling away from the sleeping body next to you. Your infernal scream caused the person to shoot up too, them rubbing their eyes as you made out their silhouette getting up quickly to switch on the lamp.

“Y/n!?”

“CHAN?”

It was him, alright.

Chan.

Shirtless Chan.

Fuck, Chan was sleeping in your bedroom. In your bed. Shirtless. And he’d been right next to you all this time, being hugged by you.

Did I mention he was shirtless?

You swallowed, your thoughts flitting all over the place as your dry mouth tried to come up with something to say. “What the fuck are you doing in my room!?” You asked, sitting up and glaring at him. “Get out!!”

“Felix let me sleep here! Why would he make me sleep on the sofa when there’s an empty bed right here- wait, when the fuck did you sneak in anyway?” He swore, running his hands through his hair. “Jeez, You scared the shit out of me.”

“You did! You scared me!”

“You’re the one who sneaked in without any prior notice!”

You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, crossing your arms. “Well I never gave you permission to use my room! So get out before I make you.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck.”

“God, you’re so infuriating!” You shot out, exasperated as you buried your head in your hands, trying to control yourself from snapping his head right off.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Just shut up!”

He smirked, stepping closer to you. “Why don’t you make me?”

Of course. Of course he’d use that infamous line.

You weren’t going to fall for his bait though.

Or were you?

It’s just that Chan’s lips looked incredibly soft right now. Plump. So welcoming…

Not to mention, he was breathing very heavily and clearly worked up from your little tiff.

Fuck. You were going to regret this.

You’d overestimated yourself. In a second, you were all over him, leaning up to press your lips to his soft ones needily and passionately.

His reaction was lightning quick. Groaning into your lips, he quickly lifted you up, holding you against the wall much like Minho had. You felt a flash of guilt run across your mind, but it was quickly replaced as Chan bit your bottom lip harshly, groaning past your lips.

"I hate you." you mumbled, pulling away as he stared into your eyes, his own wild and alive.

"Feeling's mutual." He groaned, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking on the skin roughly.

"Wait, no marks-"

"Shut up and take it, you little slut." Fuck, Chan had been wanting to do this since the first moment you decided to be a brat to him. He’d been itching to teach you a lesson, show you some discipline.

He rubbed himself against you, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt the wetness soak through your panties.

He pulled you away from the wall, dragging you over to the bed and throwing you on it.

“You’re dripping, aren’t you? So much for hating me.” He let out another mocking chuckle as he leaned down, pressing a kiss over your clothed folds.

You whined, squirming slightly and causing him to hold you down. He looked up at you, warning flashing in his eyes. “Careful, my little whore. You better not piss me off any further.” He grabbed the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down, pulling them off your legs.

His attention slowly went back to your soaked pussy, licking his lips as he leaned in again.

“Is this all for me?”

You didn’t say anything- which was a mistake. For chan placed a solid slap on your pussy, causing you to cry out as you looked down at him tearily.

“Tell me.”

You hated to admit it...but it was the truth. “Yes.” You said softly, looking at him with an imploring gaze. “All yours.”

“That’s what I thought.” Growling, he placed his plump lips on top of your clit, sucking on it slowly but harshly. The overwhelming pleasure caused you to arch your back, your thighs threatening to close if Chan wasn’t holding them apart so harshly.

“Such a little whore we have here.”

He slowly explored your pussy with the tip of his tongue, relishing every whimper and whine that left your tongue. You tasted so fucking good, he felt like he could never get enough.

Pulling away, he let a sole finger trace your wetness, gently dipping past your entrance. “Do you always get this wet?”

You shook your head, your cheeks turning red as he smirked up at you. “Interesting.” He leaned back down, suddenly taking your clit between his lips and sucking harshly. The sensation caused you to throw your head back, the feeling too profound.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

His lips released your sensitive bud after a few seconds, still gently lapping at it with his tongue as he sat up, pulling down his sweatpants and pulling out his thick, veiny length. You looked down at it, your eyes widening.

So this really was happening.

He moved closer, pumping himself as he pressed his tip against your clit. He slowly slicked the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices and letting out a soft groan. He’d spent so long imagining how you felt, this was like a dream come true.

Slowly, he pushed the head of his cock in. You whimpered softly, feeling how snug it felt within your walls. He was big, a lot more than you’d expected. Regardless of whether or not you’d be torn in half by the end of this, you still pulled him down towards you.

Your eyes wandered over his lips, before flitting back to his own. He gazed at you, sliding in and stretching you out just a little further as he leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

It was gentle this time, yet felt every bit as passionate. You’d never felt like this before. Chan kissed you softly yet urgently, as he pushed in all the way, bottoming out and making you let out a soft whimper.

You’d never felt so full, so satisfied. You felt one with him. It was perfect. In fact you felt like you could stay in this position forever, if the universe permits.

Chan pulled away, his lips throbbing. You looked perfect under him, eyes blown out and hair fanned out around you. Beautiful, just like how he’d pictured it all these years.

Originally, he’d planned to fuck your brains out. Ram into you so hard you would forget your own name, teach you some good behavior.

Right now though, he was consumed with the overwhelming need to make love to you, make you his. To treat you like his princess.

But then he remembered.

You weren’t his.

The anger which had disappeared was back, as Chan gritted his teeth. No, you were his and you always will be. He had to make sure you knew that, needed to make sure you would leave him before long.

It was hopeless though, and he knew that. You belonged to someone else, as much as he wished you didn’t.

Chan had to live in the moment.

And so he drove his cock deeper, causing you to whine out as he pulled out once more. The drag of his length against your walls was so pleasurable it almost drove you to tears. You found yourself wishing he would hold you close to him like this forever.

But you couldn’t fool yourself. This was probably going to be a one time thing. There was no way the universe was going to hand you your happy ending on a platter just like this...right?

You were shook out of your thoughts when Chan slammed back in, jolting you up the bed with the sheer force of his thrust. It brought tears to your eyes, tears borne of pure pleasure.

Soon, he was fucking you deep, his thrusts consistent. His lips slid over your neck, occasionally making their way back up to your mouth.

You clutched onto him tightly, whining at the extreme pleasure. Chan grunted at how tight you were, his core tightening with every thrust.

“You’re so wet, so tight. Fuck, babygirl…” he pulled out all of a sudden, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him, pouting. “What was that for?”

He leaned back against the headboard, patting his lap. “Come here and ride daddy’s cock.”

Your cheeks flushed at those words. Carefully, you sat up and crawled over to him, pausing in front of him.

You know you were supposed to have him inside of you once more, but you just couldn’t resist. You wanted to taste him…

And so you leaned down, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. Chan’s eyes widened in surprise at the move, his hooded eyes watching you. “Princess, I thought I told you to-“ he groaned, sucking in a breath between his teeth when you ran your hot tongue over his slit, your drool dripping all over his cock.

He stared at you, sighing to himself as you slowly took him in deeper. You could only be described as a perfect mess to him, sweat beaded on your forehead as your swollen lips wrapped around his tip, sucking slowly.

“F-fuck...are you teasing me, baby girl?” He hissed, taking a handful of your hair and pulling you off his cock. He swallowed as he noticed the string of his pre-cum that was still attached to your mouth. The sight was so sinful it could have made him cum right then and there.

“As much as I’m loving this princess, I really need to be inside of you right now.” He said firmly, pulling you onto his lap. He gripped your hips tightly as he moved you forward, letting his tip press up against your soaked folds.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment, Y/n? You and me?”

You didn’t say anything, your eyes widening slightly as you heard the words. You were just about to reply when he thrust into you abruptly, sheathing his entire cock in your snug pussy.

You let out a long drawn out whine. It had been a while since you’d had someone inside of you, and you were still getting used to the feeling of his girth.

“How does that feel?” He asked gently when he saw your expression, his scary dom persona shed for a few seconds as he stroked your back.

You looked at him, tightening your arms around him as you pouted. “You’re just so...b-big. I can barely breathe.” You mumbled, clenching experimentally around his rigid length and making him hiss. He clutched your hips immediately, smirking up at you.

“And your pussy is so tight and warm...all for me…” he mumbled, his finger gently flicking your clit.

You moaned, blinking and letting out a soft whine as he slowly moved a little. “Ready?” He asked, tilting your chin up to press a kiss to your nose. You inhaled deeply, before nodding. “Yes, daddy.”

He groaned at the name, running his eyes over your innocent face. He leaned up to kiss you as he thrust his hips, driving them into you slowly at first. Nipping at your bottom lip, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up until the tip was barely grazing your pussy.

The way he was holding you up as if you weighed nothing was making your whole face turn red. Groaning softly, Chan winked at you before suddenly slamming you back down onto his cock, making you cry out in pure pleasure.

It felt so…incredible, for lack of a better word, as he kissed you deeply before guiding your hips, making you bounce on his cock.

You felt helpless as your moans grew louder, Chan fucking you on his cock relentlessly. He pounded into you from below, lifting you up again and slamming you down in time with his thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” You whined loudly and shook your head. “I- I don’t know.” You cried out softly, his cock ramming into you roughly. Barely able to continue your sentence, you moaned as he grabbed your ass cheeks tightly, spreading them apart.

“Shut up. You are, and that’s final.” He grunted as he suddenly got up, still shallowly fucking you. He stumbled over to the wall and pressed you against it, attacking your neck and covering it with bruises as he tore apart your insides.

“I’m- fuck!” You gasped when you felt him bite your nipple lightly, your hand coming up to his face. “I’m c-close, please-“

He chuckled, his hand slithering between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “So you’re telling me I control your orgasm?”

“N-no I meant-“

“You meant what you said, baby.” He chuckled and kissed you. “It’s alright though, I’ll let you cum, babygirl. All you have to do is beg.”

“B-but…” you whimpered and pouted at him, but he merely shook his head.

“Go on, now.” He said strictly, slightly slowing down his thrusts.

You groaned in frustration as he reduced his speed. Your eyes wide and innocent as you looked up at him.

“Please, daddy, wanna cum so bad, need it...”

He pretended to think for a second, before nodding and smirking as he rammed into you so hard you’d probably never walk again. You never knew he had so much stamina, so much brute force.

Each thrust was like a burst of fire within you.

Soon enough, you felt your orgasm crash down on you, leaving your entire body shaking in the wake of it.

The overstimulation was blinding, and yet you suffered through it so you could feel Chan’s cum inside you, your abused core tingling as he pounded into you.

Finally after a few minutes he slammed into you one last time, filling you up with his seed. There was so much of it that it dripped out, past his length and your pussy. You’d never felt so full.

“That was...beautiful.” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you breathed heavily, your chests heaving as you stayed in that position.

Staring into your eyes, Chan found something there which he hadn’t seen for years. He missed that look...he really did.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. You could barely reply, your words stuck in your throat. All you could do was stare at Chan in adoration, feeling helplessly in love as your heart pounded against your chest. Your mind was filled with persistent thoughts, but one seemed to be more prominent than the rest.

This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

***

Felix sighed when he saw the two of you cuddled on the couch, smiling to himself and shaking his head as he set his keys down. He’d known this would happen sooner or later.

At least now he wouldn’t have to deal with any more bickering. Yawning, he headed towards his room, right after switching the lights off so the two of you could lay in darkness.

An eventful day, for sure.

#bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #bang chan x reader #lee know smut #minho smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho angst #chan angst

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shuhey-hisagi · 3 years

Note

Espada request! Have any general and relationship hcs for Grimmjow?

Grimmjow was my biggest crush in middle school lol

General headcanons:

Okay, so Grimmjow was a panther-esque hollow before he became an espada, so I heavily believe he displays a number of panther-like behaviors. (Though, I do love the cat headcanons for him- they are so funny). So, going off this...

Grimmjow has a booming voice. He’s not necessarily loud, though he can be if needed. His voice can carry through and be heard from great distances. It’s extremely powerful and brings anyone in its vicinity to alertness. If anyone didn’t know, panthers usually use their vocals to maintain their home ranges and ensure their solitude. Grimmjow will be a little shit and use this vocal power to keep others from approaching him.

Despite his powerful voice, Grimmjow is quite a stealthy individual. He’s silently prowling about at all times, and unless he wants his presence to be known, it will stay that way. He has a light tread and normally just goes about his business for hours before anyone has the chance to notice. He’s not extremely aware of this, and has been caught by surprise when others display mass shock when he lets himself be known.

He values his solitude. He doesn’t need to be around others unless he is close to them. His Fracción are a good example of this. Though Grimmjow prefers to be alone, he thought of them as members of his family or pack when he was an adjuchas. To this point, he didn’t complain about their presence unless they were particularly annoying him.

Going off the previous point, Grimmjow harbors powerful feelings of protectiveness for his Fracción and any other person he deems important to him. He expects these people to hold their own and not need his protection at all times, but if there are. threats, he is naturally inclined to straighten himself and become an obvious obstacle for said threat.

Climbing trees and scaling walls is a secret habit of his for when he’s restless. He sees a climbable surface and is obligated to go see if he can get to the top. He will leave in the middle of conversations just to climb a tower. He also likes to isolate himself in these areas, especially since they are hard to get access for others.

He breaks his nails often when he’s not using his hierro. It’s a bad habit of his to be more intense than necessary at times and it comes at the cost of ripping off his poor nails from the bone. He can be found with bandages around his fingers a lot of the time.

Though he might not seem it, Grimmjow can make use of his brain when he wants to. It’s useful when he wants to solve a puzzle someone gave him from the world of the living or for determining the amount of time and effort it would take to scale a particular building.

He talks so much when he’s tired and near someone who will listen. Ask him a question, and he’ll go on forever about his opinions. His thought process is muddled and he makes connections where others wouldn’t, so it’s always interesting to hear what he has to say. The more tired he is, the more convoluted his reasoning becomes.

When visiting the World of the Living, he often stays with Kisuke just as a formality, since the latter wishes to learn more about Grimmjow’s constitution. Grimmjow does loiter around the Kurosaki residence in hopes of fighting Ichigo, but this backfires when Ichigo starts inviting him in and slowly conditions a friendship (though, Grimmjow will never call it so).

Relationship headcanons:

Let me preface this by saying It’s both difficult to get his attention but pretty easy to get his attention. Grimmjow is someone who is guarded and won’t allow just anyone to et close to him.

It goes without saying that he is attracted to people who display immense strength, mental and physical. He can’t stand people that act meek and helpless. To him, that’s a sign of weakness and lack of will to survive. He needs someone who can put up a fight while also putting him in his place. His instinct from his time as a lesser hollow and even now as an Espada tend to drive this feeling.

One also needs to consider that Grimmjow is simply an asshole who will do a lot just to make someone’s life hell. He doesn’t take others’ feelings seriously unless he is particularly invested in them and wants to gain something from them.

It takes him a long time to decide he wants to be with someone mostly because as an Espada there wasn’t much in way of relationships. Yes, some did become close with others and have intimate relationships, but Grimmjow was not one of them. He’s aware of the practices, but it never felt organic to him.

To get his attention, one would have to work quite little but have a lot of confidence to execute the actions that would be notable for him. Petting the back of his head when he does something right, making sure to greet him when he’s part of a gathering and secluding himself, and making active attempts to check in with him are all small but important ways of standing out to him.

The first time you pet his hair, he twists back with the most angry expression and is ready to knock you away. However, once he realizes there’s no threat, he’s like a deer in headlights wondering why you would mess with his hair.

He looks forward to you visiting Kisuke’s shop so that you can say hi to him and ask him what he’s been doing. He usually won’t answer with more than two phrases, but it’s nice for someone to ask him.

Grimmjow does have a tendency to offer you gifts. Usually the severed hands of your enemies, but it’s something.

I’m kidding.

Mostly.

But he does enjoy bringing you trinkets, such as jewelry or a safety charm he found. He’s not the best with gifts, and usually relies on just bringing you food or practical items. For example, if you ever need a pen, he’s carrying one on him at all times. He’s kind of like a cat in this regard- just bringing you whatever he deems a worthy offering.

Any shows of affection cause him to freeze in the beginning. He can’t remember if he experienced it back when he was a human, and there was no way he experienced it during his time after. He’s relearning affection, which is an interesting journey.

To that point, he rests his head near you when he wants you to play with his hair. He’ll lay on your shoulder when you work just to be near you. He often has a hard time gauging how much force to put into a hug, so he’ll hold you too tight, but the happiness from him making the first move almost makes it okay. He also moves in to quickly for kisses, leading to smashing your foreheads and noses together, and in more awkward cases, bashing your teeth against each other.

He’s trying

Grimmjow is casual about showing his possession over you near others. He doesn’t make a point of it to be affectionate around them, but if he hasn’t seen you in a while and you show up, he’s more than willing to dip you and deeply kiss you before moving on with his day. He likes when he holds your hand and put it in his jacket pocket when walking.

He’s pretty playful and enjoys wrestling in bed. If he can tickle you while holding you down, he’s going to do so. It goes back to his nature as a hollow- he’s just a little mischievous even if he won’t admit it. Feeling you under him and seeing you laugh while trying to escape is extremely exciting for him. He might even chuckle a few times himself, and not in his usual maniacal manner.

He’s not the best communicator, and it falls on you to figure out why he’s in a mood if he even shows a sign of being upset. Usually he will isolate himself, but since you two are close, he’s naturally inclined to express his mood. He can snap at you and express himself harshly, which can be an obstacle in your relationship.

Grimmjow isn’t a mean partner. In fact, he’s pretty accommodating and lets you do things at your own pace as long as you respect his need for space and unwillingness to share his every thought.

He likes making sure you’re safe. He likes teasing you to the point where you attempt to strangle him. He likes that he’s feelings something other than a need to fight someone and cause problems.

#grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach x reader #bleach headcanons #espada #grimmjow jaggerjack

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roymustangonly · 3 years

Text

An Afternoon Rest Well Deserved

A story in which you, the male reader, take the place of Lieutenant Hawkeye. You are his go to man. However, you do have a growing love for him. You are ashamed of such a love, so you suppress it as best you can. Little did you know, these feelings just might reciprocate.

A gentle breeze escapes the open window of the Colonel’s office, sending slight chills against your freshly trimmed neck. You turn, facing away from Roy’s desk as you rub your sleep-ridden eyes, feeling a single tear fall. Not a tear of emotion, merely a reaction to the dry nature of your eyes. You wipe away the lone droplet, adjusting the front of your pants to look as though weren’t rubbing your eyes.

However, the Colonel saw right through that. He could tell when you were exhausted, however he couldn’t blame you. Such a restless job could keep anyone awake at night. Especially working under him, a man who steps before danger at the mere mention of it. Or perhaps you had other personal issues going on, that he didn’t take into account.

Nevertheless, he felt as though it was none of his business. He’s taken his fair share of naps in the back rooms, or even in his office, with you looking out for him. He was truly grateful for that. Such an occurrence was seen as normal to him, so Roy didn’t feel as though he needed to say anything to you regarding your health.

You turned around slowly, attempting to act natural and awake as you moved to your desk, sitting down and opening your drawers. You shuffled through the papers you had organized the night prior, fingers gently moving each piece, making sure a cut was prevented. As you found the form you were looking for, you shut the drawer, silenting sighing as you stood. You glanced at the clock, biting your inner cheek as the time merely read 10:16. You still had quite a day ahead of you.

The Colonel was working, for once, scribbling his signature on the forms stacked on his desk. He seemed to be mindlessly working, perfect for you to get by. “Sir, another form for you to sign. Where would you like me to place it?” You asked as energetically, yet normal for your average tone, as you could. Roy exhaled and gazed up at you, deep black eyes meeting yours. You swore, his eyes were so dark that you could see specks of stars and constellations if you stared long enough, however you were never allowed.

“I’ll take it for now, Lieutenant.” He stated, rough fingertips grasping the paper you held before him. Roy reached a bit further, making sure that your hands brushed against each other before you released the papers, causing a gentle burn to invade your cheeks. You attempted to play it off as nothing, clearing your throat and returning your hand to your own personal space. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” For some reason that thank you felt less formal, and more… out of love? No, that is most likely the drowsiness talking. You mentally shook your head and nodded in sync. “My pleasure, Sir.”

You made your way back to your desk and attempted to look busy, however on the inside you were struggling to keep consciousness. Long nights filled with nightmares weren’t doing you any good, curse those damn memories. Your actions in the past haunted you, leaving you feeling hollow, guilty, and overall dreadful. A diagnosis was a phone call away, yet you were too afraid to know what was wrong. All you wanted was for it to go away magically, not speak it out, explain your impossible feelings, nor take foreign drugs for said feelings.

You hadn’t realized that your eyes were closed until you felt a looming presence before you, causing you to open your eyes. You jumped out of your seat and stood as sharply as possible, placing the side of your hand to your forehead in the form of a salute out of fear. “I apologize greatly, Sir. I didn’t realize that-” The Colonel cut you off. “At ease, soldier.” He uttered gently, tone unable to be read. His eyes moved from your face, to your hair, down to your posture, and finally the slight wrinkles in your clothes. Roy stepped one step closer.

“Y/N.” He used your real name. “Have you been sleeping lately?” He asked, voice leaving a trail of genuine concern. You took a gentle breath, looking back at the door to make sure it was closed. Words seemed a bit difficult to form, so you settled for a hesitant nod. Roy sighed, fingers swiftly removing the buttons of his uniform coat. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a blush beginning to creep upon your cheeks.

A flutter of excitement and dread floated around your chest like caged butterflies, just as others had described love. If only you could tell him. Him. That was the issue. A man loving another man, it was shameful. Especially for a soldier. There was no way that Roy swung that way anyways, you saw how he flirts with your female coworkers, moving from woman to woman as his career pulled on. Not a single person of interest was male.

“Lieutenant.” You immediately pulled your attention back to the Colonel, confused as to why he switched back to your titles. Perhaps the name was a slip up. Yes, that was it, a slip up. “Lie down and rest for now on the sofa. I will make sure no one interrupts you. I want my men rested up and ready at all times.” “But sir, I should be-” “That is an order, soldier.” He stated, raising his tone a tad bit. That caused you to immediately nod, uttering a nervous “Yes, Sir.”

You awkwardly walked over to the sofa, lying down stiffly. It felt awkward to have a man watching you sleep. You felt his cold eyes watching you. From behind the sofa, you heard heeled footsteps, stopping right above you. You nervously moved your gaze upwards, seeing a flash of blue invade then escape your vision. The Colonel had placed his coat over you… what a gentleman.

You could smell his cologne, and feel the warmth of him previously wearing it. It took everything in you to hold in a smile, but little did you know that the Colonel saw right through that. This man seemed to know everything. “Thank you, Colonel.” You stated, attempting to keep your voice stable and clear. He smirked and nodded, returning back to his seat at his desk.

The room was silent besides the scribbling of Roy’s pen, which caused you to sleepily close your eyes. You adjusted yourself to get comfortable, ignoring the fact that Roy’s desk was pointing towards you. His scent did wonders in calming you, reminding you of his baritone voice, rough, yet gentle hands, and toned warmth. It was like a lullaby that was created just for you, as you fell asleep quite swiftly.

...

You violently shook out of your sleep, heart racing. You didn’t notice that your superior was behind you, too shaken up over the events that took place in your dream… No, nightmare. You felt your cheek, wiping away the stray tears as you inhaled as successfully as you could. You were propped up against the arm of the sofa, body shaking as your chest heaved from pure anxiety. Roy placed a firm hand on your shoulder and you nearly fell off the damn couch. You violently pushed his hand away, causing him to step back. As your eyes met his, you saw the pain you had caused him. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could whisper, tears threatening to begin once again.

Your brain was too scattered to care about your appearance being professional, all you could think about was how heavy the air felt. Roy walked around the sofa and bent down slowly, not wanting to startle you. He knew the pain of such nightmares. He may not seem like the type to comfort, but how could he not after spending so much time with you. Roy placed his gloved hand on your shoulder once again, this time much slower, and more gently. You turned to look at him, trying your best to calm your breathing.

The warmth of his hand sent even more butterflies, causing you to cough unexpectedly. The Colonel placed another hand on your back, keeping it still for a few moments. It was nice to know he was there. The comfort gave you a chance to close your eyes and just… breathe. And that is what you did for the next few minutes, not realizing how you leaned into the touch of your superior.

When you felt a bit more normal, you opened your eyes, turning to Roy. He had a slight smile on his face, bringing the back of his gloved hand to wipe your tears, not caring about the ignition qualities. You didn’t flinch this time, letting out a breath as your superior helped you gain your composure. “I understand.” Was all he said, which was oddly comforting. It was honestly nice to know you weren’t alone in this.

Roy stood up and removed his gloves, as well as his boots, revealing his pink stained socks. Something told you he didn’t buy them that colour, which caused a crooked smile to appear on your face. Of course Roy didn’t know how to properly wash his clothes.

“Seeing that you only slept for a measly 15 minutes, why don’t you let me help?” He stated, the confidence apparent in his voice, as if he knew you’d say yes. The mere idea made your face turn red, not just your cheeks as before. Your eyes were the size of dinner plates as you hesitantly nodded, a bit unsure of his intentions. Was he not… straight…?

Roy gently moved you over, laying down next to you on his side. You were frozen still, unsure what to think of his actions. He noticed this, and moved his right arm underneath yours, resting his hand on your back. His left wrapped around your torso perfectly, the two of you fitting like puzzle pieces.

You couldn’t believe these actions, yet you could at the same time. If your face wasn’t right next to his chest, you would see the smirk on this face. He knew what he was doing to you and he adored it. Sure, it was a bit cruel to use your nightmares as an excuse to flirt, but when else would he get a chance?

It didn’t take long for you to give in to his warmth, moving your head forward to touch his chest. His right hand was now placed on the back of your head gently, causing your eyes to immediately shut. If you weren’t so exhausted, you knew you’d be shaking in pure adrenaline. The thoughts of “gay panic” raining down to your brain like a thunderstorm. Roy draped his coat back on top of you, this time including him. In a few moments, you knew you were about to fall asleep, mind not giving you a second to process what was occurring. All you knew was warmth, cologne, deep snores, and comfort. And to be honest, you were okay with that… For now.

Please be kind, as this is my first story!

Word Count: 1843

#roymustang #roy mustang x male reader #fma #fullmetal alchemist #hurt comfort #roy mustang #roy mustang x reader

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

The Problems with Legilimency

Notes: For the anon request. This is so fucking late because writer’s block is a bitch, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! ^^ I sort of took my own spin on the request, but I think it’s fairly similiar to the original.

Summary: Two times in which Queenie’s Legilimency became a problem, and once when it kind of helped.

“Newt!”

The sound of his name strung along by that familiar voice sent a peculiar thrill through Newt’s person. He never grew tired of hearing it. He spun carefully around, an Occamy curled in his grasp; its tiny head poked curiously out from under his arm. “Yes?”

Tina stood puzzled back in his lab, hands placed upon her hips as she examined one of the shelves. “It’s not here. That herb you were looking for. I swear I saw it when we first came in here…”

That was odd. Newt was usually very meticulous about his placement system. He deposited the Occamy gently back into their nest, though the task provided some difficulty as the creature attempted to weave through his arms to reach him once more. Eventually though, hands free, he made his way over to where Tina stood.

In the space where a small bottle of rare herbs should have been, there was nothing but empty space. “You didn’t move it somewhere?” Newt asked, his tone inquisitive rather than angry. He began rearranging bottles around it, wondering if it had simply gotten misplaced.

Tina shook her head. “I turned my back and it was gone. It’s not…” she hesitated. “…supposed to do that, is it? I mean, it doesn’t have some kind of magical property to it, does it?”

Newt laughed, the quiet chuckle of an inside joke. “No, no need to worry about that. It does contain magical properties, though they are rendered quite harmless in its current form. Aha!” He grinned, his voice filled with soft triumph. “I believe we have found our culprit.”

Pickett stood frozen where Newt had revealed him, a bottle clutched tightly in his arms. His eyes widened, and quickly he tried to scramble away from them. Unfortunately, his efforts to get away from Newt only brought him into Tina’s awaiting hands, who held him up carefully as she lifted him into the air.

“Nice work, Tina,” Newt said, a hint of pride entering his tone. Seeing two of his favorite creatures in the world interact always brought him a strange joy. “Be careful when extracting the bottle from him; he can be difficult when he wants to be.”

“Oh, um, yes, of course.” Tina seemed more doubtful of her abilities, holding the creature out carefully as though one of two of them was going to accidentally hurt each other. She attempted to gently wrestle the bottle out of his hands, but, seeing her intentions, Pickett was quick to intervene. He wrapped his arms tightly around it, and when she attempted to nudge him off with her finger, he only transferred his hold to her as devious inspiration struck him.

Tina yelped, her heart catching a little in her throat. Though she admired Newt for his love for these creatures, she still found herself a bit wary when it came to actually interacting with them. Newt himself seemed unworried by this development, a smile tugging reluctantly at his lips, like a parent attempting to be disappointed with their child but ultimately unable to help their amusement.

“P-Pickett,” she started, her voice wavering a little at the uncertainty of talking to the tiny being. “I’m going to need you to let go now, if that’s alright; we need those ingredients for medicine—your medicine, I might add.”

Pickett was unbothered, clambering onto her finger fully now and beginning to scramble up her arm rapidly. Tina jerked back in surprise, the sensation of his little arms and feet crawling on her skin igniting a long forgotten sensation.

“Newt!” she called anxiously, tossing him a quick glance.

“Don’t worry about him,” he assured her. “He’s completely harmless—it’s only him who likes to think he’s tougher than he is.”

“B-But he’s—ah!” Tina felt a fluttery laugh escape her as Pickett reached her shoulder, poking around and exploring the area curiously, brushing up against her neck. “E-Ehe, w-wait!”

“What’s all the noise down here?”

The two startled at the sudden appearance of Queenie, her curls framing her face in its innocent curiosity as she stepped off the stairs. Evidently, neither of them had noticed her descent in the confusion of the misplaced bottle.

“Tina was just helping me create a new batch of medicine for the Bowtruckles,” Newt explained quickly, an odd nervousness entering his voice at the two of them being caught alone. He felt the unnecessary need to clarify their presence there. “When a bottle, it—well it went missing, but it was fine as Pickett here—”

“Of course it tickles,” Queenie interrupted, her voice directed affectionately in the direction of Tina. Newt started, those words being one of the last things he expected to leave her mouth. “There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”

“What?”

Tina stiffened and flushed as Newt’s gaze swiveled to her, focusing on Pickett who continued his exploration of her neck and shoulders with an unapologetic joy. He narrowed his eyes at the pesky creature, who startled at the sudden attention he was receiving and hid quickly under Tina’s collar.

Newt lurched forward, ready to remove him, but his hands paused inches away from Tina, where they hovered uncertainly over her neck. “Can I—that is, do you mind if I—”

“Yes!” Tina agreed, her voice a little too eager in her embarrassment. Quickly but carefully, Newt managed to remove the critter, allowing him to cling moodily to his finger as he pulled away.

Queenie smiled fondly at them, shaking her head a little at their antics. “Honestly,” she said as Newt tucked the errant Bowtruckle into his pocket. “There’s no need to get so worked up about it; it’s just tickling.”

“How did you—”

“Legilimens,” Queenie replied, arching a brow with a sly grin. “Or have you forgotten?”

“Oh. Right.” Newt fussed needlessly over Pickett, adjusting and re-adjusting him as he continued to avoid their gazes. Pickett himself bucked against the attention, batting in annoyance at his fingers. “Um, if you don’t mind, we were in the middle of something if we could return to that.”

“Oh.” Queenie shook her head at herself. “Of course.” There was something in her eyes that said she knew Newt’s true reason for wanting her gone, but for reasons unknown to Newt but that he was nonetheless grateful for, she declined revealing. “I’ll leave you two alone them.”

She whirled gracefully up the stairs, her silk robe fluttering lightly behind her along with her steps. It was only once she was gone that Newt allowed himself to exhale, turning to face Tina. “Are you alright?”

But Tina had already turned away from him, and was wholly engaged in the process of chopping up the retrieved ingredients as Newt had shown her earlier. The tips of her ears were tinged a dark pink, and her hair fell forward in her face, easily hiding her expression from the other.

Newt would have pursued the issue further, had he not been just as grateful to drop the subject at hand. For some reason, this new piece of knowledge about Tina stuck in his brain, a strange concoction of nerves and excitement lighting up his chest. The sudden feelings were too difficult to parse then and there, however, and Newt turned to the counter as well, making sure to stand a couple feet away as he directed her on the next steps.

“Now you want to grind it, into a fine powder.”

“Oh.”

The word was a startled little gasp, and it drew both Tina and Newt out of the world they had previously been lost in. Newt jerked away from her instantly, releasing her skin as though it were suddenly made of hot iron. Tina’s face was flushed, the remnants of laughter dancing in her smile. Less than a minute before, Newt’s fingers had been engaged in the process of reducing her into a state of flushed laughter. Now, however, he kept his hands firmly shoved in his pockets, far removed from where they could have any kind of effect on anyone.

After Queenie had accidentally revealed Tina’s secret a couple weeks ago, Newt had found himself unable to stop finding ways to accidentally tickle her in the hopes to see that unexpected smile light up her face once more. After a while, it became less accidental, though if Tina noticed, she chose not to say anything. There was hardly any excuse for that evening, however. It was only that Tina had chosen to stretch her arms above her head moments before and Newt could hardly be blamed for what happened afterwards.

Both appeared heavily embarrassed to have been caught in such a state, and it wasn’t just Newt this time who was having trouble making eye contact.

Queenie smiled, a gentle, reassuring gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to inform you both that dinner was ready. Although it seems you two are rather… preoccupied, at the moment.”

Newt cleared his throat, coughed awkwardly, and cleared his throat once more, clearly having difficulty coming up with words. “Sorry, we were just—that is to say—I was—”

“Tickling my sister,” Queenie answered for him, appearing unbothered by both the word and the subject. “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude; it’s just that you were being quite loud.”

Tina’s brow furrowed as she readjusted herself on the bed; she was putting forth a failing attempt to make herself appear anymore dignified than the state in which she’d been interrupted. “How could you possibly have? We were—that is, we were trying to be quiet.”

“Thoughts speak louder than words,” Queenie quoted, though there was a truthful undertone to it that spoke of the embarrassing reality of having a Legilimens as a sister.

“Ah,” Tina said, visibly flustered. “Well.”

“Right,” Newt agreed eagerly, though it was unclear what either of them was agreeing on.

Queenie offered them a knowing look, before finally turning around to head back downstairs. “Alright then, I’ll leave you two alone. But be sure to come down soon; you wouldn’t want dinner to get cold.”

She paused at the doorknob, however, and turned suddenly back around. “Oh, and Newt?”

“Yes?”

“Her worst spot is her knees. Just in case you were wondering. Anyways.” With that, Queenie flounced from the room, her innocent air a betrayal of the words she’d just spoken.

The two of them sat frozen on the bed, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move. There wasn’t exactly protocol for this kind of thing.

After a while Tina groaned, dropping her head into her heads. “Sometimes I truly abhor my sister.”

“She can be quite… blunt,” Newt agreed. He found his gaze drawn now to her legs, swung carelessly over the bed. Queenie’s words played over and over in his mind, and before he knew what he was doing he had reached out and experimentally squeezed her knee.

Tina yelped, her hands flying from her face to shove at his arms quickly. “Don’t,” she warned, but there was a lightness to the warning that implied maybe she didn’t mean it as much as she said. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Newt, please, this isn’t—”

“Fair?” he finished softly, squeezing again to hear that adorable squeal. Her hands flailed uselessly for a moment before fisting in the sheets, keeping herself from fully shoving him off.

“Newt,” she gasped, the words filled with anticipation and a giddy nervousness that prompted Newt to quickly enact a repeat of earlier, his hands flying as he wrecked her once more. Her laughter rung in his ears, wild and carefree, and he found he would do anything to hear that sound, even for a moment longer.

Eventually he relented, as dinner really was getting cold. However, he found an odd disappointment setting in when she merely stood up afterwards and headed over to the door, albeit more out of breath than before. Before he had time to dissect that feeling, the two were called once more for dinner in slightly harsher tones, and they quickly rushed down the stairs in an effort not to induce the other’s wrath at having to wait for them.

“Nehehehewt!” Tina gasped, batting uselessly at his hands as they scribbled mercilessly over her stomach. “Plehehehease!”

The two were curled up on the couch, having retreated there for the night while Queenie and Jacob were out on an evening for two. In the beginning the two had simply watched movies, Tina propped up against the other so that her head rested on his shoulder. Movies had been Newt’s idea, a Muggle concept that he had found fascinating. Moving pictures on a screen without the use of magic…. Tina had scoffed at the idea, but even she had to admit that it was pretty amazing seeing it in person. The TV had been a purchase made by Queenie, who had decided to invest after seeing how drawn in the two had been after returning from the theaters.

After a while, however, Newt had once again found his interests caught by a different form of entertainment, that of Tina’s startled shriek when he accidentally squeezed her side whilst adjusting himself. Moments later, Tina had her back pressed against his chest as she attempted to curl in on herself and evade the ticklish hug Newt was administering.

It was truly a wonder how they kept arriving here.

“Please what?” Newt asked, his lips quirking up into that rare teasing smile that Tina both hated and loved dearly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Plehehehease stahahahap!” she giggled, her legs drawing up to her chest as she attempted to protect herself. “Ihihihi—ahahah, ihihit tihihickles! Nehehewt!”

“Alright, alright.” Newt relented, merely resting his hands on her stomach now and rubbing calming circles. “You know, you’re quite cute laughing like that; you should do it more often.”

“I already do it enough, thanks to you,” she replied with a wry grin, her words coming out in an exhausted huff as she fought to regain her breath back. “I don’t understand why you insist on doing it so often.”

“I believe he wants you to return the favor.”

The two startled, Tina letting out a startled yelp as a dark crimson flooded Newt’s cheeks, and they both turned to see Queenie standing at the doorway. Evidently, the two had just returned.

“Q-Queenie,” Newt stammered, with the intent of replying some kind of denial, but Jacob popped his head around her shoulder before he could, viewing the scene curiously.

“What favor? Oh hey, is that Felix the Cat?” Jacob quickly made his way over to them, taking a seat on the couch besides them.

“He what?” Tina repeated, ignoring Jacob and focusing her attention back on Queenie.

Queenie set her purse down, delicately taking a seat besides them. The couch was growing crowded by this point, but none of them appeared to care in the moment. “He wants you to tickle him back.” She paused after a moment, her eyes widening a little. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

Newt’s face was permanently burned a color as red as his hair. His mouth was open on a theoretical protest, though it was clear it was too late for that. Eventually, he merely averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s, ah, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to, I know.”

Tina glanced between the two, trying to gather what had just happened. Jacob was the first to speak, raising one eyebrow. “You like being tickled, Newt?”

“I—” Newt started, his voice stuttering and stopping in his throat. He coughed, gripping the back of his neck tightly. Three pairs of eyes were suddenly focused on him, and while Newt didn’t prefer eye contact at the best of times, the awkwardness of the situation certainly did not help anything. Against his better judgement, his flicked his gaze up to meet Tina’s, anxiety getting the better of him. Her eyes were wide with surprise, which he had anticipated. What he had not expected was the tiny smile slowly tugging at her lips, a gentleness to the expression that made Newt’s heart clench in his chest. Ultimately, it was what prompted him to finally find the words to speak again.

“I—uh, yes. That is, I do. Like. To be tickled.” He cleared his throat again, staring at his lap. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, rhythmically pulling at a loose string to distract himself from the panic roiling in his brain. In the background, the TV hummed, though it was clear none of them were paying attention to it anymore.

After what felt like an eternity to him, but was in actuality only around thirty seconds, Jacob piped up, “Well why didn’t you just say so?”

Newt’s head snapped up, his heart slamming against his chest. “What?”

“Yeah,” Queenie agreed, a grin rushing quickly across her features. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just another part of you.”

He felt someone grab his hand and he looked over to see Tina, her face filled with such overwhelming tenderness that he couldn’t help but smile slightly in return. “I love you, Newt. Which means I love making you happy. And if this is what makes you happy, than I’m happy to do so.”

Newt glanced around at the three of them, people who he had grown to love and care about more than he had allowed himself to with others in quite a long time. A tiny bubble of happiness rose in his chest, trapping his throat and making words impossible.

“Do you…” Tina started, before trying again, this time with more confidence. “Do you want us to tickle you? Now, that is.”

Newt flushed, the color spreading to the tips of his ears. He stammered, sentences tripping over themselves in his mouth, before he finally managed a quiet, “Yes. Only if you want to, of course.”

Jacob poked him lightly in the ribs and he jumped, a startled yelp escaping him. “Of course, buddy. After all, what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help you smile every once in a while?”

Newt opened his mouth to respond, but his words were quickly lost to a flood of giggles as all three of them pounced at once, reducing him into a mess of squirming limbs.

Maybe Legilimency wasn’t so bad, after all.

#tickle fic #fantastic beasts and where to find them #tickling #newtina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #jacob kowalski #fanfic #fanfiction #fic request #requests #harry potter #hp #fbawtft #jakweenie

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