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pomefioredove · 3 days ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ad perpetuam memoriam II

I II

summary: you enroll at night raven college one year after the original yuu. a heartslabyul event and a mysterious letter type of post: series includes: ace, deuce, riddle, silver, sebek additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu, this is all AU, not making predictions for how twst will end

"Leave me be,"

The hollow sound of knocking and the rasps of weary sighs end. Finally. You pull your blanket back over your head, content to sleep through the rest of the morning.

BANG!

The door splits itself apart, sparks of magic and smoke flying through the cool air.

Sebek Zigvolt, vice housewarden of Diasomnia, pushes his magic pen into the slim opening of his pocket before he comes inside.

"Up,"

He demands, curtly but not coldly, a hand on his hip. "I have no patience for your disrespect. Silver has been far too lenient with you."

Lenient. If lenient meant sending birds and squirrels through your window, then yes. If lenient meant trying to talk to you in your sleep, then certainly. If lenient meant sending his vicewarden to split your door in two, then Silver was the most lenient housewarden this dorm ever had!

...Not that you'd know.

"Lord Malleus would have torn this room apart, stone by stone, days ago," Sebek says. "You cannot shut yourself away as though you are some... sleeping princess in a tower! UP!"

Cold air touches your sweaty, crumpled body, and your blanket falls at Sebek's feet as he pulls it from you.

"You're ill," he asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.

You say nothing, and he scoffs.

Sebek leers over you, the soft gray light of morning casting his shadow over your body. "You should consider yourself fortunate, that Silver has not thrown you out of this room yet. You are making a mockery of the Housewarden,"

With some difficulty, and, surely, some disgust, he lifts your sweaty, cold body from the bed.

Fwump.

Sebek sits you in the lounge, forcing you to keep upright with a hand on the nape of your neck. With the other, he holds a cracker to your lips. His hand doesn't move until you've eaten the entire thing.

"Sebek... What are you doing?"

Both of your eyes, sharp and wide, crusty and tired, turn to Silver.

"What does it look like?" the vicewarden scoffs. "Feeding your pet."

Silver looks taken aback, crystalline eyes reflecting your sordid state, and he hurries to your side.

"Gentle," he instructs his vicewarden, taking your hand in his. You can't seem to understand why he's so kind to you. You don't ask.

"Are you ill?" he asks (genuinely, this time). "You must be hungry..."

Sebek rolls his eyes, though even he looks a little uncomfortable at the thought, shifting where he stands.

"I'll prepare something," he mutters.

"Thank you, Sebek. That would be good,"

Silver's thumb draws lines and letters over the back of your hand, soothing you. He must have learnt that somewhere. You wonder what his parents are like.

"You've missed several days of classes. I've had some of your classmates collect your work for you. But don't worry about that now,"

You look away, eyes tired and barely open. Sick, yes, that's what you are. It's not that you'd been avoiding everyone... you're just... sick.

"Riddle wanted me to give this to you," Silver says, taking a delicate, elegant paper from his pocket. Had he been carrying that all weekend?

"It's an invitation for an unbirthday party, which-"

"I don't want to go," you don't even let him explain. Though you're not sure of what you want, now. Except for this headache to go away...

Silver frowns. "You should. You should make friends, or at least... talk... to someone. Deuce has been asking Sebek about you,"

For some strange reason, that makes your headache worse. Is it obligation? Guilt? Pity? Do these people think that if they care enough, one day they'll look at you and finally see someone else?

Is it so hard to believe that you're cared for?

Yes. It is.

"You should tell him I'm fine," you snap, though without meaning to. "I don't have to be friends with him, you know."

Silver winces, and you overflow with guilt. Something about him, the only person to, so far, treat you as a human and not a shadow, makes your stomach twist and turn.

"You're right. But he's trying. Really,"

"That's what they say," you relent.

"Yes. It's not easy for everyone," Silver dabs at some of the sweat and grease on your forehead with a handkerchief. "Especially those who were close to... never mind. Don't worry yourself about it. You have nothing to feel bad for, you belong here just as much as anyone does."

His gaze becomes hazy, unfocused, as he speaks. He may as well have been talking to himself.

"Soup!" Sebek announces, as if it were some kind of culinary battle cry.

He sits at your side in the comfortable darkness of the lounge and sets the warm bowl in your lap. It smells good.

"You cook?" you ask, absent-mindedly stirring the broth.

Sebek smirks. "Certainly. We both do,"

"We learned because Lil- er, my father is a terrible cook," Silver explains with a smile. "You're lucky he isn't here. He'd insist on making you his "specialty" and you'd end up worse than before."

You snort at that. "It can't possibly be that bad,"

"It is," the two say in unison. Sebek shudders at some memory, or another.

"He'd love you," Silver says. "So would... well... Malleus would understand."

Malleus. Your stay in Diasomnia has been haunted by that name, spoken into every conversation and implied between each breath.

Something about the way they spoke of him told you he wouldn't like you. You're not sure why.

"I guess that's good enough," you relent. Silver smiles, and Sebek pats your head, not knowing how else to show his approval.

"I'm unsure if this is entirely necessary-"

You catch yourself talking in that voice and just as soon shut your mouth. Have you always mirrored the others, or is it only a symptom of mania?

Perhaps you've been locked in that room for too long, after all.

Riddle doesn't seem to notice that you were mimicking his voice, or he doesn't say anything of it, at least, instead fixing the white and red sash of your scratchy uniform over your shoulder.

"It is. It's custom to be dressed in the Heartslabyul dorm uniform for an unbirthday party,"

"But I don't think that-"

"Hush," he pins the sash in place.

Riddle takes a step back, his chin comfortably cradled in his gloved palm. "Perfect. Now, let's make haste. It'd be uncouth for the Housewarden to be tardy,"

Great. Is that what you sound like??

You follow after him, the heels of your tight, pinchy boots click click clicking on the tile in rhythm with his.

"I would have had Deuce tend to you, as the former vice housewarden would have, but..." Riddle sighs. "He's doing his best, he's doing his best..."

You glance at him as he mutters the mantra to himself, fingers twitching around the magic pen in his pocket.

He withdraws them. "Of course, Ace has been of no help, either,"

Ace. A thought of a figure in red and white comes to mind, faceless and apprehensive. He was the one who had hugged you at the orientation ceremony.

You hadn't seen him since.

"Has he fallen ill?" you ask, still sounding all too like the housewarden.

"No," Riddle says. "Yes. It's... an affliction of the mind. Ahem. Never mind that."

"Oh,"

"Yes. Well, Deuce will have you. It was he who wanted to extend the invite... ever charitable,"

Yuck. The apprehension in Riddle's voice makes your skin crawl, even if it's not entirely aggressive.

"...Right,"

Riddle leads you through a door with a mockingly smiling face engraved on the knob, and into the gardens.

In another world, you might have liked it here. The tall, handsome hedges, the perfectly kept grass, the painted roses which seemed to sing in the golden sunlight... and, of course, the tables, one set after the other, in pinks and whites and greens and gold, a spread of teapots, tarts, jams, sugar, butter, on each one.

"Hey!" a merry, little-too-loud voice beckons from behind. You would have jumped, but a sudden hand on your shoulder keeps you tethered to the earth.

"There you are! I'm so glad you could come!" Deuce Spade smiles. "You look great... the uniform really suits you!"

"You think so?" you ask, feeling more like a circus clown than a student of the strictest dorm in school.

Deuce nods enthusiastically (a little too much so) and his hand slides to your wrist. "Oh, man, I have so many people to introduce you to,"

Dread. As much as you would have liked to run back to your room, or mingle on your own terms, or simply say no, you don't.

"...Great,"

"Great!" Deuce echoes, dragging you over the manicured lawn.

There is, at least, some comfort in the confusion, apathy, and meager care of Deuce's Heartslabyul dormmates. The disinterested greetings, the humble waves, the looks of pity, as if you were anyone but yourself. Then, at least, you can pretend as if you belong here.

"And one more person!"

You glance towards Riddle, scolding a first-year for spreading his jam "offensively" (whatever that means). You haven't had any food, yet. Or water. You haven't even sat down.

The taste of Sebek's soup is still stuck to your tongue. That was last night.

"Ace, over here!"

Dread. If there was anything in your stomach, it surely would have introduced itself to the front of your shirt.

Deuce drags you through the grass, caking your pointy shoes in mud and debris. Why, you? Why? He pushes and pries himself (and you, attached at the wrist) through a crowd of ooh-ing and ah-ing first-years. "Ace, look who it is!"

A boy with spiky, red hair, not unlike the hedgehogs Riddle had introduced you to earlier, bristles. The lively cards between his fingers die on his palms, and the table falls silent.

"Yeah?" Ace asks.

He doesn't seem too excited to see you.

"Look who it is!" Deuce repeats, as if Ace hadn't heard him the first time. He definitely had. "Finally decided to come!"

Ace shuffles the deck, slotting each card together, and then separating them again.

His eyes, narrowed, dark but fiery, like molten iron, never stray from Deuce. He doesn't even look at you.

"So?"

"So?" Deuce says. "Wouldn't you like to say hi?"

You tug, trying to break your wrist free of the binding of his hand, your body making some futile effort to escape.

Deuce doesn't budge.

Ace's eyes finally lower to his cards. "Nah, I'm good,"

The table seems to let out a collective sigh of relief, but the tension isn't done with. Ace's casual response had only thrown a blanket over the corpse of this conversation.

"...Oh. Okay," Deuce says, withdrawing from the first-years. "Sorry." he says to you.

You shake your head. "I should get back to Diasomnia, anyway. Silver needs me,"

He doesn't. No one really needs you.

Deuce doesn't have to know that.

"Oh, well..." he looks at his feet. "Um... if you... need anything, Riddle and I would be glad to help, 'kay?"

"...Sure,"

His grip is gone, and cold, afternoon air embraces your wrist. His palms had been sweaty, you grimace.

You leave the dorm uniform where Riddle had given it, dressing yourself in the familiarly unfamiliar clothes that Crowley had dumped on your doorstep days ago.

Though they're not really yours, they're still something you can call your own.

"Mind yourself," the strict sound of Riddle comes from the kitchen. "I can't recall having excused you."

Your mouth dries. "Did I... need to be excused?"

He comes into the light. At least his expression is softer than his voice.

"Well, you could have at least said good-bye,"

"...I didn't think anyone would notice-"

"Nonsense," his face goes red. "I would have. Are there no manners, where you come from?"

You open your mouth, but only breath comes out. Riddle coughs, taking out an embroidered handkerchief (you swear you've seen like, eight of those so far. This school is weird) and breathes into it. His face returns to its proper color.

"...And... breathe," he sighs. "Now... as for you. You mustn't think so lowly of yourself. You were invited to this event, were you not?"

You nod.

"Then you are wanted. I have heard from Silver that you haven't adjusted?"

"No one would," you mutter. Which seems logical to you. Who would "adjust" to being magicked into another world?

Riddle looks away for a moment. "...To some, it comes easier than others. Forgive Deuce for not knowing how to behave. He's... trying,"

You raise an eyebrow. Riddle sighs and waves off your look with his handkerchief.

"Trey would have known exactly what to do with you..." he says. "He would have had you bake something with him. Explained the rules, given you that... ugh, what was it? Some kind of sauce? As a practical joke... all very immature, yes, but it worked on the first-years.

And Cater, of course. He would have treated it like a holiday. Sevens, my head hurts just imagining the hashtags..."

You snort, if only at Riddle's memories, names and faces you didn't know.

He smiles. "I suppose Deuce sympathizes with you, in that way. You both have certain expectations to meet. The difference is that you didn't ask for yours... ahem. Take care,"

You walk back to school feeling unlike yourself. Your chest is light, your feet don't seem to meet the earth, and your mind is elsewhere. Not here, but not at home, either.

Riddle's awkward words of comfort were gauze to your bleeding heart, though it bled on nonetheless.

But they gave you something to imagine. Something to soothe your mind.

What was this place like before?

Most days, the school felt more like a museum. Dates and titles, portraits without faces in golden frames, hung above your head and hands, unreachable, untouchable.

Everything, every conversation, every question, every word of solace, every smile, was a test you hadn't studied for. A funeral for a person you hadn't known.

No one has lifted the lid of the coffin. Maybe that person has been mangled beyond recognition. Maybe that person is you.

You stop.

There is the dilapidated dorm called Ramshackle, and the one light in its foggy window. The lingering smell of mildew feels like a lullaby. It sings, come in, come in and enjoy the quiet, this is your grave.

Your foot turns, the toe of your shoe dragging across the beaten cobblestone, toward the lullaby, the singing, and the quiet.

Then, there's a hand on your shoulder.

"Lost?"

You would have screamed, but you're suddenly bound by another hand, this one larger and colder than Deuce Spade's, and you're beckoned back into the school.

"Oh, don't fret," the Headmage chirps. "It's an absolutely labyrinthine campus! I've had to collect twenty-six lost students this week alone. I've considered maps, but think of the cost... print is not free, you know!"

You steady yourself, finding your breath and balance again.

It feels more as if the Headmage is talking to himself than to you, and so you don't speak, following him (not of your own will, of course) through the dark, abandoned halls of the school.

"...And I resolved to doing it myself, but it really is such a hassle... I am a busy man, you know," he says. "Though, never too busy for you! Housewarden Vanrouge has come to me with some concerns about your socializing... or, rather, lack of it. Oh- now, don't give me that pout! I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I told him to forget it. I said, not all magicless students from another world will be spry, sociable sixteen-year-olds! And it gives you more time to focus on me- ah, your studies. But now that you've mentioned it, I do have a few cabinets that could use sorting..."

Crowley stops before a door, as tall and dark as he, but without any ability to speak, which makes it slightly more tolerable.

"Here we are," he smiles.

"Here... where?"

"The mail room," he takes a key from his ensemble and slots it in the imposing door. "Now, wait here."

You raise an eyebrow. Mail room? It's getting dark- the shadows on the walls are slanted, and the sun had given its last breath while he was monologuing. Surely, he's not asking you to sort anything now...

"You know, I thought letter-writing had fallen out of fashion," Crowley says, returning from the depths of the dark. "What, with the emails, and the text messages, and the... ah, that reminds me, I'll have to procure you a phone for emergencies... er, but later. Here, for you."

He hands you an envelope, cream-colored and smooth. There is no name, nor return address on the back. It is simply addressed to the "Residing Second Magicless Student of Night Raven College."

You feel the rich, creamy paper under your thumbs. It smells like smoke.

"Now, don't look at me," Crowley says. "I haven't the slightest clue of who might write you from outside the college. In fact, it makes me worry about our campus security... ah, I'll have someone look at that tomorrow. Good night, dear."

He leaves you there in the hall, envelope in hand, a frown on your lips.

It's dark now. The light has vanished beyond the imposing walls of the school, the shadows have become long-limbed and monstrous, and the sky is blue and red in the blood of the setting sun.

You turn the envelope over. There is still no name. A single wax seal, imprinted in the shape of a bell, is the only sign of life.

Weird. All of this is weird.

You walk home in the dark and cold.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver x reader #silver vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #deuce spade x reader

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shikaizer · 3 days ago

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cold water.

i'll be your lifeline tonight.

you and your girlfriend are both basketball players, but the both of you are in a opposing team, so you decided that its better to keep relationship secret, but while in a match with her, she had broken her ACL.

fluff. (need to make myself feel better😣)

No one knew about you and juju, not your teammates, not your coaches, definitely not the league.

on the court, both of you were rivals,off the court… you were everything else.

tonight was the championship game, USC VS your team against hers.

The gym was packed, the noise unreal, every time juju got the ball, you had to stop yourself from smiling, God, she looked good out there focused, fierce, biting her lip the way she did when she was locked in.

Third quarter, Tie game.

she drove to the basket with that explosive step you knew too well, while you guarded on of her team, your back facing juju not seeing what shes up to, and then it happened, a sharp scream, louder than the crowd.

juju crumpled to the floor, clutching her knee, you froze mid stride, She was rolling in pain, mouth open in a silent cry, trainers rushing over, your heart dropped straight through your sneakers.

“juju!” you broke formation, sprinting toward her before you even realized what you are doing.

“yo, what the hell?” one of your teammates yelled behind you, but you didn’t care.

you dropped to your knees beside her, brushing the sweat slicked hair from her forehead,her eyes were wild with pain and panic.

“it's my knee” she choked out “It popped… I think..." you grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight “hey, hey, im here, okay? I got you.”

the trainers looked confused, one gave you a weird look, like she was about to ask why a rival player was acting like juju’s girlfriend.

but you didn’t move, tears slid down her face, and you keaned in close, whispering, “your gonna be okay.”

she looked at you like you are the only thing grounding her, nodding slowly as the medics brought out the stretcher.

they didnt know, they didnt need to, all that mattered was juju and you aren't going anywhere.

It was two weeks after the game,juju had undergone surgery, and you'd been at her place almost every day since.

you sat cross legged on her bed, icing her knee while she scrolled through her phone, she was wearing one of your hoodie, shee swore it was just because it was comfy, but you knew better.

“im going stir crazy” she muttered, tossing her phone aside “and coach has barely texted me, i feel like they’re already moving on.”

you moved closer and cupped her face gently “they’re not moving on, they’re waiting for you to come back stronger.”

she looked at you like you are everything "you always know what to say.” you leaned in, pressing your lips to hers, soft and slow, her fingers tangled in your shirt, keeping you close, when you pulled apart, she rested her forehead against yours.

“i hate hiding this" she whispered, you pulled back a little, not shocked just sad “I know, Me too.”

she stared at the ceiling muttering “my teammates keep asking why I got so emotional when i went down, they said i looked like i was looking for someone, I was, i was looking for you.”

you swallowed hard “I ran to you without thinking, my team still hasn’t let that go”

“you think they suspect?” you nodded “they know something’s up, i told them we used to play together in a summer league, that’s why we’re close.”

she looked at you like she was tired of the lies“i dont want to hide you anymore.”

the words hit you in the chest, you wanted that too but it wasn’t just about the two of you, there were expectations, your schools were rivals, the league was watching.

you ran your hand down her arm, resting it on the brace around her knee “when you’re better, when the season’s over, we’ll tell them.”

“But what if they don’t wait?”

“dont move too fast” you said gently “your not proving anything to anyone.” she gave you a weak smile “except to you, gotta keep my girl impressed.”

you rolled your eyes and walked over, setting the tray on the table beside her “you tore your ACL, juju, you could literally be drooling in a blanket and i'd still think your a badass." her eyes softened “your too good to me.”

you knelt beside her, brushing hair from her face, fingers lingering along her cheek “nah, im just loving you the way you deserve.”

she bit her lip and looked at you like you are her whole world, you felt the weight of it, the trust, the pain she was carrying, and the gratitude she didn’t know how to say out loud.

you adjusted the pillow under her leg, slow and careful, and replaced the warm ice pack with the fresh one.

she hissed when the cold hit, you grabbed her hand and let her squeeze yours “you always do that” she whispered “like you know exactly when I need to hold on"

“I always know” you said.

masterlist.

🔖 — @addl0vee @tndaqlwifwy @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @paige05bby @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @taylynbueckers44 @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream

#lesbian #wlw #wlw smut #wbb #usc wbb #juju watkins imagine #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins smut #juju watkins #juju watkins fanfic #juju x reader

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iqxatlantic · 3 days ago

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" LOVE IS (NOT) EASY ! "

it's easier to say we're just friends, our generation made us that way.

mmm multi chara drabble(s)/hcs/imagines

ft. michael kaiser . itoshi rin . isagi yoichi . reo mikage . karasu tabito . pretty much v ooc! characters . desperate! reader + characters . fwb situation . suggestive . aged up! characters !! . fluff (?) . confessions . mentions of sex . these men r highkey losers . uni/college au! . gn! reader (slightly implied afab! reader) . unreliable narrator .

wc : 1.7k

it just happened... you replied to his story on instagram (or vice versa) and then bam! you two were talking. it's odd in this day and age. we all crave love like it’s a lifeline, yet when it finds us, we pull away as if it’s a trap.

isn't that funny.? these men... they're quite charming. you're even thankful that he replied. days go by, texting, texting n texting. don't you get tired?

those days became a month or two. you've gotten pretty close with him. remind me — how'd texting him daily become being in his bed?!

itoshi rin is someone and something. he may seem cold and blunt but, under that demeanor he's the sweetest guy you've ever talked to. took a little while to have him warm-up to you. it was worth it.

for a while you've been sleepin' with each other. this night in particular — the atmosphere was different. the usual pull of lust was tangled with something unfamiliar, something raw and real.

weird. it's never been like that before. i mean, you were just friends with benefits, right? "rin?" you'd softly call out. "yeah?" rin would reply.

"uhm. i think i have a confession." you sheepishly muttered, clutching his shirt towards your chest a little firmer. "oh. me too." he once again, replied.

"oh you go first-" "nah, you go first." "c'mon rin, just go first. mine's a little embarrassing..!" "mine is as well!" "yeah but you're-"

with that, rin took a sharp inhale. bracing himself for the worst, he let the following words slip out, "[name], i think — mmm. no. i know i've got feelings for you. i actually really like you. i dunno if we should continue this or not — not the healthiest." (RIN?? YOU'RE TALKING HEALTHY R WE FR.)

"rin!" a small laugh slipped out your mouth. guess you braced yourself for nothing. you were afraid, well not anymore. you replied, "i have feelings for you as well! maybe we should have something else as a relationship, just not this."

"[name], let me be yours."

reo mikage is a man who knows what he wants and gets what he wants. (lmfao daddy gets what daddy wants ahh energy) so why was it one night, after having an emotionally crazy night with you, he realized something? why'd he realize that he genuinely likes you? why?

"reo?" your sweet voice softly mumbling. he'd turn to you, replying in a disgustingly raspy voice in return. "yeah, [name]?" "nothing, got scared you left or something."

reo couldn't bear suppressing his feelings and emotions anymore. hell, he constantly did so! taking a fat breath in, he exhaled. preparing himself to confess.

thing is — reo found himself unable to speak up. shit. he was getting a little upset. why weren't things going the way he wants it to? finally pushing himself out to say what he's been dying since day 1.

"uhm, [name]. i jus' hope you know-" you cut him short. "what happened to mr. confident?" you smiled, playfully. he rolled his eyes at you sassily, "hush, let me finish." "waiting."

"okay. i hope you know i genuinely like you. you're gorgeous, sweet, passionate ... you're not boring at all. i actually have to try and get you. that's why you're so interesting. that's why i want you." (wow reo what a confession *claps hands*)

you looked at him, jaw DROPPED. never in your life did you expect to have THE mikage reo confess to you. i mean, sleeping with him was one but CONFESSIONS?!!?! good god, you were on cloud 9.

problem was, reo knew his parents would never approve. ah, whatever. worth a shot.

"give me a chance, [name]."

mmm, isagi yoichi. this man has PURE intentions. he never expected himself to be able to sleep with someone as lovely as you are. hell, he never expected himself to even be able to TALK with you!

truth be told — this silly little guy STRUGGLES... constantly trying to subtly impress you. he's failing, but you find it cute. he's shy, let him slide!! (i can see the pain in ur eyes...)

laying in his bed after the night, you turned to your side to face him. "yoi, you're so cute. y'know that right?" you're killing him with your words.

isagi's flushed. he's bright red. what a contrast between his dark blue eyes lmfao. caught in the moment, he let a few words slip out. ones that weren't in his current favour.

"[name], the only cute one is you — i- oh my god." he's fumbling. he's FUMBLING. (he aint we all love loser boys heh... what is this moischaracterization isa arent u trying to cook for eng wtf is going on) you were intrigued. you kept listening. you really freaking like this man too lmfao.

"gosh, fine. i'll just say it, i like — no. i love you, [name]! you're so pretty n admirable and gosh..." let the poor guy talk, why are you suddenly so bold? he's staring at your plush thighs. remembering how they were around his waist and and...

"[name], can i be your boyfriend?!"

michael kaiser, let's see. he's deathly terrified of love. i personally see him as the lyric of "typa friends to fuck but when they fall in love they're too afraid to stay." (holy coew this ones rlly ooc! bro)

hear me out, kaiser suffered a traumatic childhood. yes — thought basic/common, nonetheless traumatic. he's constantly being told over and over again that he was never supposed to be born — born unwanted.

hence why, he's afraid of love. he can't even love himself. he's afraid to turn out just like his father. he's afraid to turn out like his parents. he's afraid of returning to who he was before.

he doesn't know how to love. he wants to he swears! so were those "i love you's" when you to got intimate lies?

propping his head on his hand, he stared at you. admiring you and your beauty. "ugh...mihya? what are we?" you asked. "i know yeah, friends with benefits but... i feel like theres more to it than lust.."

at that moment, kaiser froze. his throat went dry. "ah, um." he coughed, trying to get his composure. "quite a question to ask, liebling." he thought about it. he's thought of this multiple times. answer them.

"uh- ahem. well..." kaiser couldn't get himself to speak. what a question to ask after having him in between your legs huh.? those deep azure eyes staring straight at you.

whilst the emperor pondered, kaiser's gaze trailed over you—slow and deliberate. oh, the moonlight kissed the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, making it glisten in such a way that had his thoughts straying far from innocent! (kaiser my guy calm down u j got freaky..)

his tongue clicked as he took in every slick curve, every rise and fall of your breath. he couldn't help but let a small whistle out. "mihya. snap out of it. answer me."

"listen. uhm." he mumbled. that's odd coming from such an arrogant and cocky man. what happened to that demeanor? "ugh, it's easier to say we're just friends, okay?" a frustrated sigh came out of the both of you.

"well, fuck." you replied, turning onto your back. "wait, [name]. i'm sorry." kaiser apologized. "i'm scared, okay? i'm terrified," he confessed. "i'm horrified if i hurt you if i-"

"shut it, michael." you demanded. "it'll hurt the both of us if you don't tell me the truth." you continued.

with a reluctant sigh, he agreed. opening his mouth as if the words were stuck, fighting their way out. his gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes — almost like he didn’t want to say it, but knew he had to.

"scheiße, i can't hide anything from you can i? fine. i like you. ich liebe dich sehr." he mumbled sheepishly. you cringed a little. "german? seriously? say it in english."

"needy as hell, sure. i love you a lot." kaiser slipped out, his pride slipping with the words LMFAOOO. kaiser didn't expect you to say anything — he didn't even expect you to accept his feelings.

"hey, mihya. i like you too. sorry. i love you a lot as well," you smiled softly at him. "i'm afraid of love too but-"

"[name], let's be afraid together. let's overcome this. together. can i be yours?"

ah, yes karasu tabito. my glorious king. don't let his horrible habit of looking down at people as mediocre get to you. trust me, he thinks you as everything BUT mediocre. kinda weird for him since, he only found one person intriguing.

he's confident with himself, or so he pretends to be. you see through that demeanor so quickly. snap of the fingers and you have him figured.

laying in his sheets, you took in his appearance. noting the mole under his left eye, how hair looks ungelled... it was so messy after you kept tugging and pulling on those soft, dark purple locks.

"hey, tabito.?" you cautiously opened your mouth. "y'know how you always think you're mediocre deep down.?"

he gulped, fixing his gaze onto you. "what makes ya think that?" he denied, laughing nervously. you stared at him like 'are we serious? i know what you are.'

the assassin sighed. the moment he was going to speak, he was cut off short. "you're not mediocre at all, by the way. i think you're genuinely a really cool guy and you should live up to your actual confidence."

"but one problem, what are we? we definitely are friends with benefits but..." you mumbled, remembering that one first love theory. you realized there's a good chance you'd never compare to marisa </3 (MARISA GIRL ILY)

"y'know i can tell what yer thinkin' of right? yer pretty easy to assess, [name]." he uttered. before you could grab a handful of his hair, you were stopped.

"truth be told, i'm madly in love with you, 'kay? i can't find myself to genuinely be with you other than sleepin' 'round with ya. i don't think i'm worthy."

"i'd love to be yours though, [name]."

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @narcjsistx (get ur man reo..), @kxsagi (GET UR MAN EESAGI !!)

a/n: ya ik lots of mischaracterization and fawking ooc! writing let me OUTTTT. bro i literally dk how to write half of these characters bye. i locked in too hard on kaiser ts what happens bruh. also before u come at me I HAD TO WRITE ISAGI AS A LOSER OK. heh... guess who my fav is...! anyways um yea no we aint even surprised this work is not proofread isa 💔💔 anyways i love love is not easy super fire song i say as i go crazy bc i had this on loop hen i was talking to that atrocious creature of a man... anyways hope u enjoyed ! ill try posting more consistently! i comment as my psych and english assignments stare at me ready to spread my cheeks </3

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neeeooon · 11 hours ago

Text

shut me up ;

10 | y/n and the groupies

you thought the boys might be a little shy with you in the car, but if they were, they definitely didn't seem it.

your hand was glued to the door handle for support with bachira behind the wheel. he had a lead foot, pressing down on the gas when there was no one in front of him and slamming on the brakes when someone was. some rock song you weren't familiar with was blaring from the speakers, yet it did next to nothing to drown out the loud chatter coming from the backseat.

"i didn't even know hedgehog bites could hurt so bad! something so small shouldn't cause so much pain." isagi looked at his pointer finger and shivered. you smiled when shidou teased him for getting on pocari's bad side. when bachira caught the way your brows scrunched, he leaned toward you and said, "pocari is isagi and his roommate's pet hedgehog. well, technically, he's all kurona's, but isagi likes to play step-daddy—ow! hey, don't hit the driver!" you can’t miss the scowl isagi shoots at his friend. it sends you into a short fit of laughter.

“we’re almost there,” you hear shidou say from the seat behind you, and nod while flashing him a thumbs up. “sweet! my friend said he’ll be waiting outside for me.”

you’d asked the boys in advance if reo could join, and they were pleased to hear that they had some fanboys willing to show their support front row. bachira shook his head when he processed your words. “nah, have him park around back so we can all go in together. you said he’s a fan, right? maybe he’ll want an autograph!”

“jeez, humble much?” isagi groaned, ignoring the glare bachira sent him through the rearview. you smiled. “he would lose his mind if he saw you guys up close, let alone talk to you.”

“i’m not gonna lie, y/n,” shidou began, hand gripping the back of your headrest. “the effect this has on my ego is not good. it’s such a turn-on.”

“ew!” isagi pressed himself against his car door to get as far away from shidou as possible.

the rest of the ride was fairly peaceful, with bachira filling any silences with mindless chatter. you now know more about the history of dolphins than you'd like.

"we're here!" bachira cheered, pulling the car to a shuddering stop before parking. looking around, you spotted a bar a few buildings away and gasped when you realized it was chigiri and kunigami's. "hey, my friends work there!" you beamed, pointing pridefully at the little bar.

shidou stepped out next and appeared at your side. "i think we played there a few times when we were just starting out. cool place." you flashed him a smile and let the trio lead you into the club.

there were two men already backstage, and you quickly recognized by their matching teal eyes that they were the itoshi brothers—the drummer and bass player. they greeted you with matching, bored looks, but you waved anyway. "nice to see you again, sae. doing well?"

his lips quirked. "doing well. how's the apartment treating you?" you nodded, inviting him and his brother rin to movie night when the door slammed open once more, and a blond appeared. you raised a brow, but the second you spotted the smear of lipstick on his neck, you knew who this was. you fought the urge to sneer. "michael kaiser! it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

he looked you up and down in a way that made you feel scandalized, but once sae introduced you as y/n, he let out a chuckle. "the one who threatened to beat me with a broom, right?"

"i did not!" you totally did and shot a quick glare at isagi, bachira, and shidou for tattling on you to their bandmate. whatever else you wanted to say was wiped from your mind when your phone buzzed with a text from reo, informing you he'd arrived.

"my friend's here!" you announced to the group as you slipped between bachira and shidou to reach the exit. "good luck performing! i'll be cheering you all on." you didn't give them a chance to reply before darting around the corner to see reo.

masterlist // previous (ch 9) // next (ch 11)

notes -> poll will be out today ;)

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @beoms-sugar @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia @silverwings920 @ihe4rtme @sharks31

�� neeeooon, 2025

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hyunjincanraptoo · 2 days ago

Text

Strings

Happy 300 of us!! I love you all 💗 This was requested by @hijadeplutao. Tysm, i hope you like it 💜

Word count: 3.8k

No warnings

Alexa, play Strings by Shawn Mendes

It all started with an innocent night out.

He was a second year visual arts student, frustrated with his own creativity. You were a freshman in (your major), still adapting to university life. You were introduced by Jeongin, a mutual friend, at a party Hyunjin hadn't wanted to attend, and you were there by chance.

The atmosphere was warm and noisy, the music blending with loud conversations and scattered laughter throughout the rooms. You hadn’t planned to stay long, but Jeongin grabbed your wrist, excited, saying he wanted to introduce you to someone, “This is Hyunjin, my friend from the arts department”, he said, patting the shoulder of a boy who looked visibly uncomfortable there.

Hyunjin lifted his gaze to you, looking slightly lost, as if he'd been pulled out of a daydream. His brown hair fell over his forehead, and his lips curved into an expression that was somewhere between grumpy and bored. A red cup rested in his hand, probably filled with something that was already making him slightly tipsy. “Hey”, he murmured, offering his hand.

When your fingers touched his, an unexpected warmth passed through your skin. It wasn’t anything grand or cinematic, just a brief moment, yet a striking one. And when he finally met your eyes, something in his expression softened.

As you sipped your drink, you glanced at Hyunjin, who looked thoroughly unimpressed with the party. With a small smirk, you decided to tease him, "I bet you’re mentally ranking every person in this room from 'tolerable' to 'insufferable' right now”.

Hyunjin blinked, clearly caught off guard. His lips twitched, almost a smirk but he just tilted his head slightly, "And where do you think you rank?" he asked, voice low, curious. You shrugged, meeting his gaze without hesitation, "I’m not sure. But I think I’d like to find out”.

For the first time that night, Hyunjin looked genuinely intrigued.

Hyunjin huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he took a slow sip from his drink, "Confident, aren't you?", he muttered, studying you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. You tilted your head, pretending to consider, "Not really. Just observant”.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the bar, "Oh? And what exactly have you observed about me?". You tapped a finger against the rim of your glass, meeting his gaze without hesitation, "That you hate small talk but engage in it anyway. That you'd rather be anywhere else but still haven't left. And that you're trying really hard not to be interested in this conversation”.

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, a sound that wasn't quite a laugh but wasn’t annoyance either. His fingers drummed against his glass as he looked at you, really looked this time, "And what makes you think I’m interested?", he challenged, eyes dark with something unreadable.

You leaned in slightly, just enough to make it clear you weren’t intimidated, "Because if you weren’t, you would’ve already walked away”. For the first time that night, Hyunjin was the one left without a response. ��

He swirled his drink absentmindedly, his eyes still on you, "You’re different”. You raised a brow, tilting your head slightly, “You say that like it's a bad thing”.

He let out a soft scoff, as he studied you, "Not sure yet”. You took a slow sip of your drink, meeting his gaze without hesitation, "Well, let me know when you figure it out".

Something about the way you said it— so calm, so unaffected— made Hyunjin's grip tighten around his glass. He was used to people reacting to him, trying to impress him or push his buttons. But you? You were just standing there, unbothered, as if his presence didn’t tip the balance of the room.

You didn’t know it then, but at that moment, a part of fate had already been set.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The next morning, your head still felt heavy from the exhaustion of the previous night. You weren’t used to going to parties, and that one had been louder and more crowded than you had expected.

The day was calm until you heard the first loud thud coming from the apartment next door. At first, you ignored it. Maybe someone had just dropped something. But then came another. And another. Followed by the sound of furniture being dragged and then loud music echoing through the walls.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You had just moved in and didn’t know your neighbors well yet. But if that noise became a regular problem, you’d have to find a way to talk to whoever was responsible.

With that in mind, you left your room, crossed the small hallway, and knocked a few times on the door next to yours. After a few seconds, the doorknob turned. The door opened, and standing there was none other than Hyunjin.

He blinked a few times, looking just as surprised as you. His hair was a mess, lazily tied up on top of his head, and he was wearing a tank top stained with paint. “You?!”, he asked, frowning.

You crossed your arms, “I should be asking that. Are you my noisy neighbor?”. Hyunjin glanced inside his apartment, as if only now realizing the chaos he had been making. Then he looked back at you, not seeming the least bit apologetic, “I was painting” “ And did you have to bring the whole house down in the process?”.

He let out a dramatic sigh and leaned against the doorframe, “If you've ever tried painting something big, you’d know sometimes you have to move around a lot”. You narrowed your eyes, “I've never tried”. A faint smirk appeared on his lips before he shrugged, “Then I guess you can't judge me”. And without further explanation, he simply closed the door in your face.

You stood there for a moment, incredulous, before letting out a quiet chuckle. Living next to Hyunjin was going to be interesting.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

College life led you to run into Hyunjin more often than you had expected. Sometimes in the dorm hallway, other times on campus paths. He always seemed in a hurry, shoulders tense, his expression heavy as if he were carrying the weight of the world. But every now and then, when he saw you, he would blink lightly or let out a tired smile. And for some reason, you always smiled back.

Time passed like that— quick glances and fleeting smiles amid the rush of daily life. Until exam week arrived. You were exhausted. You spent hours buried in books, trying to absorb as much as possible, but every time you started to focus, the noise from the other side of the wall yanked you out of your reading. First, it was the sound of furniture being dragged. Then, loud music. Then, loud thuds, as if something was being thrown against the wall.

That was the last straw.

With determined steps, you crossed the hallway and knocked on Hyunjin’s door, expecting yet another trivial argument about his habits. But when the door opened, your complaint died in your throat.

Hyunjin looked completely shaken. His chest was rising and falling too fast, his eyes slightly red, shining with restrained frustration. He looked angry, but at the same time, lost, disoriented. “What?”, he asked, his voice hoarse.

You hesitated, your initial anger replaced by concern, “Are you… okay?”. He blinked, as if your question had caught him off guard. Then, he let out a humorless laugh, “ What do you think?”. A heavy silence stretched between you, heavy, “Have you eaten today?”. Hyunjin frowned, “What?” “You look like you're about to pass out”, you insisted, “Have you eaten anything?”.

He didn’t answer. And the lack of a response was enough. Without thinking much, you went back to your room, grabbed some food, anything that could help, and returned to him. Hyunjin accepted without arguing, which said a lot about his state.

He sat on the couch, holding the package with some hesitation before finally starting to eat. You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”, you asked gently. Hyunjin sighed, rubbing his temples, “I can't create. Nothing I do is any good”. His voice was raw, full of frustration.

He threw his head back, staring at the ceiling as if searching for answers there, “Is it something like a creative block?”. He laughed, but it was a bitter sound, “If it were just a block… but I feel like… I don’t know, like I lost something” “But you love art, don’t you?”. He lowered his gaze to you, “More than anything. It’s my reason for living”.

The weight of those words lingered in the air. You could see the sparkle in his eyes as he said them, a light that hadn’t been there before. Even amid all his frustration, there was still passion. “ I paint better at night”, he continued, softly, “That’s when I feel most creative. The silence, the darkness… it feels like the world disappears, and it’s just me and the canvas”.

You nodded, taking in every word. For the first time, you saw beyond the grumpy exterior and the chaos he seemed to carry on his shoulders. Hyunjin wasn’t just an art student struggling with inspiration. He was someone who lived for art. Who breathed it. Who lost and found himself within colors and brushstrokes.

And for the first time, you wanted to know more. The idea came on impulse. Maybe it was because you saw Hyunjin so lost, or maybe, in some way, you just wanted to do something for him. “What if you tried seeing things differently?”, you suggested, sitting on the couch in his apartment while he stared at a blank canvas.

Hyunjin looked at you, exhausted, “ What do you mean?”. You shrugged, “Let’s go out. You need to breathe, see the world outside these four walls”. He scoffed, crossing his arms, “And what exactly am I supposed to see out there?” “Everything”.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

That’s how it started. Small walks around the campus, aimless strolls just to notice details that seemed invisible in the rush of daily life. You made him pay attention to simple things— the golden shade of the light reflecting off windows at sunset, the way shadows danced on the ground between the leaves, how colors shifted when a cloud covered the sun.

“You sound like someone who would study art”, he commented once, half amused. “I’m just trying to remind you of what you already know”, you shot back, poking his shoulder. Hyunjin laughed, a light sound, and something in your chest warmed.

In the following days, you challenged him to try different forms of art. Photography, quick sketches without pressure, even doodling with a pencil on café napkins. He complained, saying it wasn’t good enough, but you saw the light returning to his eyes, little by little.

Then, one day, he looked at you for too long, “What?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Can I draw you?”. The question caught you off guard. You blinked, hesitant, but nodded.

Hyunjin picked up his sketchbook and started drawing. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable— on the contrary, it was filled with careful attention. You could feel his eyes studying you, the pencil gliding over the paper with delicate strokes.

“You have beautiful hands”, he murmured at some point, not lifting his gaze from the paper. Your heart stumbled in your chest, but you said nothing.

And then, without you realizing it, Hyunjin started looking after you too. On the morning of your exam, he showed up at your door holding a cup of coffee, “You mentioned you had a tough exam today”, he said, handing you the coffee. Thought you might need this".

You stared at him, surprised, “You remembered” “Of course, I did”. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but something inside you tightened in a new way.

Days passed, and Hyunjin seemed more energized. He painted more, talked more about his art, and every time he created something, you were the first person he showed it to. And the two of you grew closer. More and more.

Small touches started to feel different. When he absentmindedly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. When your knees touched while sharing a bench on campus, and neither of you moved away. When he laughed at something you said and looked at you for too long.

Your friendship was real, but there was something else there— a spark in your chest. Something neither of you could quite name. Not yet.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The days followed and exams were finally over. Relief settled within you, but that day, in the midst of that calm, the rain seemed to carry a different meaning. The sound of it against your bedroom window brought an unusual feeling— an omen lingering in the air. Perhaps because it was impossible to ignore what was happening between you and Hyunjin.

You were watching a movie when the doorbell rang, breaking the silence. When you opened the door, a chill ran down your spine. Hyunjin stood there, completely soaked, his hair clinging to his face, his clothes drenched, his expression exhilarated, and his eyes glistening with something electric.

He looked like a masterpiece painted by the rain itself— drops tracing paths down his skin as if the water was part of his being. “I found… I found something!”. He spoke, his grin wide, as if he had just uncovered the secret of the universe. His excitement was contagious.

Your heart pounded at the sight of him, so alive, so intensely caught up in his emotions. Still a sudden wave of panic hit you. He was clearly unwell— his skin was pale, and he was shivering slightly. “Hyunjin, are you feeling alright?”, you said, stepping closer, your eyes scanning him with growing concern.

He blinked and shook his head, trying to dismiss your worry, “Yes, I just… I was painting. The inspiration hit me all at once, and I… I had to feel it. I had to feel the rain. It was perfect, you have no idea”. He seemed completely enchanted by the experience, but his words came out sluggish, as if he were too exhausted to speak properly.

His face was wet, his eyes shining with feverish intensity, but there was a weakness in his enthusiasm that you couldn’t ignore. Without thinking twice, you pulled Hyunjin inside, shutting the door behind you, “You’re soaking wet, and you definitely have a fever. We need to take care of this now”.

Before he could protest, you led him to the bathroom, already preparing a warm shower. You helped him remove his drenched clothes, your fingers brushing against his chilled skin, and your heart pounded harder. He was so close, and the warmth between you seemed to grow with every movement. “I don’t want to be a burden, I…”, he started, but his words were cut off by the hot water cascading over him, steam filling the space.

You helped him wash his hair, your hands moving gently, taking care of him as naturally as possible. Hyunjin stood silent for a moment, his eyes shutting as he let himself relax under your touch.

After the soothing shower, you wrapped him in a towel and went to his place to grab some dry clothes. He seemed calmer now, but the fever still clung to him. You prepared tea and gave him medicine, watching him closely, making sure he was okay.

He looked up at you with a weak smile, “I’m such a mess, aren’t I?”, he murmured, his voice low and heavy with exhaustion, as if he were being more honest than usual. “But you, Yn… you’re always here, taking care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you”.

Your chest tightened at his words, and you didn’t respond. Instead, you just held his hand, the warmth of his skin against yours saying more than a thousand words. The space between you was no longer just friendly— it was charged with something more. Something unspoken, but undeniably.

He didn’t take long to fall asleep, his breathing turning softer, his face relaxed in a way that made him look completely at peace. And as he rested, his fingers still intertwined with yours, you realized that, once again, something inside you was changing. Something you didn’t yet understand, but that was slowly taking form.

And in that moment, with him lying there— vulnerable, safe, at ease— you knew that something more had started to grow between you. The spark was there, silent but burning.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Hyunjin woke up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the soft light filling the room. He felt the warmth around him, comforting and safe, something he didn’t want to end.

And then, he realized.

His hand was still entwined with yours. His fingers fit perfectly against yours, as if they were meant to stay that way. He turned his head slightly, finding you lying beside him, your body relaxed in deep sleep.

Your breathing was steady, gentle. He took in the little details— the strand of hair falling across your forehead, the slight parting of your lips, the way your hand rested on the mattress, so close to his. His heart pounded faster, a strange warmth spreading through his chest.

He had never been this close to someone before, never cared so much about how someone looked while they slept. His gaze traced your features, admiring every little expression of peace you wore.

And in that quiet moment, while watching you with an intensity he didn’t fully understand, he knew. The same spark you had felt, the one that had started growing between you both, was now undeniable in his mind. He could feel it in the rhythm of his heartbeat, in every breath he took. A new feeling was blooming, and he no longer knew how to deny it.

Suddenly, your body stretched slightly, and your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the morning light. The first thing you saw was him, still beside you, still holding your hand.

Shock set in immediately. Your heart jumped, and you shifted slightly, your mind racing at the proximity. "O- oh... hi...", you mumbled, still drowsy, trying to mask your confusion. You sat up, a bit flustered from waking up so close to him, "How are you feeling?"

Hyunjin smiled softly, though he could see how flustered you were. He didn’t tease, but he also didn’t let go of your hand. His eyes, warm and thoughtful, stayed locked on yours, "Better... now that you’re completely here". His voice was soft, genuine, "Thank you... for everything, really. You're my guardian angel”.

You bit your lower lip, warmth creeping up your skin. Something about the way he looked at you, with that gratitude and affection, made your heart pound. The embarrassment of waking up next to him faded, replaced by something new. Hyunjin seemed to notice it too cause his gaze softened, and he hesitated only for a second before speaking again.

"I...", he started, but stopped, as if searching for the right words. And then, as if he had made a quiet decision, he leaned in just slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. His hand, still holding yours, remained warm and steady, "I always lose my words around you. But...", he murmured, his smile widening just a little, his gaze shimmering. "I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me”.

His words washed over you like a slow wave. There was no rush, no tension. Just the quiet understanding of a moment shared between the two of you. And then, without hesitation, without second guessing, he, slowly, gently, leaned forward, and his lips met yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was soft, unhurried, like time could stand still right there. Like nothing else mattered. There was no urgency, just a quiet connection, a tender kiss where every movement seemed designed to last, to make the moment enough.

When your lips parted, neither of you moved away. His heart was still racing, but now, there was no more fear. No more doubt. Because now, something unspoken has settled in the air between you. The spark had become something more. And for the first time, everything felt like it was exactly where it was meant to be.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Time passed, and everything between you changed so naturally that it was hard to remember exactly when it began. What was once just friendship had become more— more deep and impossible to ignore. The way Hyunjin looked at you had shifted or maybe it had always been that way, and only now were you truly seeing it.

And then, on that special night, he asked you to come to his final presentation, "I want you to be there”. He held your hand tightly, "It’s important to me”. You didn’t hesitate.

It was a big event, with professors, students, and guests walking through the exhibition space, admiring the works of various artists. But you couldn’t focus on anything except the anticipation of what Hyunjin had prepared.

When his turn came, your heart pounded. You knew about the creative block he had struggled with at the start of the semester. You knew how heavy the burden had been when he couldn’t create the way he wanted. But now, standing before the canvas covered with black cloth, Hyunjin took a deep breath before pulling it away to reveal his work.

And there it was.

You.

The painting was a version of you as only Hyunjin could see. Every brushstroke, every nuance, every play of light and shadow revealed just how deeply he saw you in a way no one else did. Your eyes held depth, your lips carried a serene smile, and every detail of your face was crafted with undeniable devotion.

It wasn’t just an image. It was you— captured with passion, with tenderness, with love in every stroke of his brush.

Your throat tightened, your eyes welling with tears, "Hyunjin...", you whispered, unable to say anything more.

He was already beside you. His warm hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your skin as if making sure you were real, as breathtaking as you were on the canvas. "Do you like it?", his voice was laced with vulnerability, as if this was the most important question he had ever asked to someone.

You smiled, the tears finally spilling over, "I love it”. The light in his eyes grew impossibly brighter. And then, with no concern for the audience around you, he pulled you closer, his lips just inches from yours as he whispered, soft and intimate, a secret meant only for the two of you:

"Loving you is my safe place"

Your heart nearly stopped. But before you could respond, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so full of tenderness, of quiet devotion, that it spoke all the words he didn’t need to say.

And there, in his arms, standing before the living proof of the love Hyunjin felt for you, you knew.

You were his art.

The thing he lived for.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

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concretejunglefm · 1 day ago

Note

lexi. i’m having brain rot.

noah has you suck on his fingers before he fucks you.

can you expand on this pretty pleaaaase? 🥺

His fingers, but also that scruff 🫠

CW: smut including finger sucking, mention of oral fixation, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), spit, over stimulation kinda, squirting, pervert!reader vibes, undertones of dom!noah.

Names: Good girl, slut.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

“Do you enjoy my fingers in your mouth?” Noah smirks down at you, watching as you delve them deeper into your mouth, almost gagging from the length of them. The pads of his fingers continue to graze over your tongue before you circle around them.

The sight of you has his bulge twitching openly in his pants, but he won’t stop you. It’s not uncommon for you to find a way to get his fingers into your mouth, blaming it on your oral fixation, when you know for sure it’s more than that. It’s because you think about them every night when you’re alone in bed, and your hand descends past the waistline of your pajama bottoms.

You hum approvingly around them, nodding as your eyelashes flutter and your doe eyes fixate on him.

The moment you pause, he deliberately strokes his long, tattooed fingers towards the back of your throat, as if testing your limits and exploring. A faint trickle of saliva seeps from the corner of your mouth, but you resist the urge to clean it up. You see the way his eyes light up, and you know that he enjoys you making a mess of yourself on his fingers like this.

“I bet you’d like something else in your mouth,” Noah teases, and a muffled moan escapes your lips.

Tears well up in your eyes as you press yourself against his fingers, deliberately triggering your gag reflex. It’s an enticing gesture, a way to play along with his teasing. But you know he’s not serious; it’s just what he does best. He’s aware of how willing you’d be to lower to your knees and take him into your mouth if he asked—he wouldn’t even need to ask.

You’ve thought about his cock many times. There have been moments when you’ve fingered yourself to the thought of it, every time you catch a glimpse of his bulging pants, the sight becoming another mental snapshot for future use.

“I think you'd like it better if I fucked your pretty pussy with my fingers, though.”

You don’t argue when he removes his fingers from your mouth; instead, you lean back against the desk, your lower half stripped off by him and spreading your thighs as he requests.

“I want you to watch,” he instructs, his voice a soft purr as he grips your chin with his free hand, tilting your head to look down between your spread thighs. You watch as his spit-coated fingers slowly stroke along your folds and slit, mixing with your arousal and spreading it further.

When you try to drop your head back and let out a faint moan at the teasing of his fingers, his grip on your chin tightens, holding you in place. He softly clicks his tongue in a reprimand. “Keep watching, or I won’t give you what we both know you want.”

You whine in response, his fingers just barely teasing along your slit before pressing between and circling your clit, making your hips buck in desperate need for more of his touch.

“Such a desperate slut,” Noah muses, a grin spreading across his face as he watches you. He catches the way your skin flushes with the growing pleasure from his teasing, how your hips buck and your fingers curl against the desk’s edge, as if you’re trying to restrain yourself from reaching for more.

He isn’t gentle when he slips his fingers inside you. They’re long and slender, making one feel inadequate, while a second fits perfectly. However, it’s the third finger that makes it snug and fills you up. Each finger is counted as he inserts it, and each one makes you moan just a little louder as your walls stretch and tighten around them.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he praises you, and you bask in his attention, daring to peek at him from beneath your lashes without moving your head from the position his hand keeps it in.

As you watch, his fingers begin to thrust in and out of you. You catch your arousal coating them, the wet sounds they make the faster he thrusts, unable to stop your hips from bucking to meet each stroke. Your moans tumble out between desperate sounds, begging and needing more. “It’s not enough…” you pant.

Noah raises an eyebrow, smirking down at you. “Not enough? You’re such a greedy slut.” He’s aware of your needs, his thumb hovering close enough to tease your throbbing clit. “Spit.” He commands, and you obey, saliva dripping from between your lips and down between your thighs as you struggle to spit down against his palm. Watching his thumb rub against it, he then presses it between your folds and right to your clit, relieving the pressure and sending your eyes rolling back. The combination of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit intensifies your arousal.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out in a chant, your hips bucking desperately.

Overwhelmed by your pleasure, you don’t even feel Noah’s fingers slipping from your chin or catch him descending between your thighs. He replaces his thumb with his mouth as he latches onto your clit. His face is nestled against you, allowing you to feel the roughness of his scruff against your skin. It’s a sensation that both tickles and thrills you, knowing that he’s deliberately rubbing himself over you to allow him to smell you long after this moment ends.

As his fingers curl deeply inside you, a familiar knot tightens in your stomach and you follow the rising wave of pleasure as he draws you closer to the brink. Your hand releases the desk edge, diving your fingers into his hair. You tug it, pulling him closer, grinding yourself against both his fingers and mouth. “Noah, please! Fuck!” you cry out, chanting his name as your legs tremble with the intense sensation of your orgasm spreading throughout your body. Your thighs continue to tremble on either side of him as you proceed to squirt around his finger and into his mouth. Neither of them stopping him, even after you’re quietly sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @i-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades

#jade 💕#noah thots #noah sebastian smut #bad omens smut #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #concretejunglefm fics

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darthwhorecrux · 2 days ago

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This fic was inspired by @pinguwuuuu 's ABSOLUTELY SCRUMPTIOUS Shinji art. As evidenced by the below, it sent me into quite the h*rny spiral...

Check it out here and GO SHOW IT THE LOVE AND HYPE IT DESERVES !!!

Without further ado - TW: smut! alcohol! and Shinji himself!

You had thought a night out would be the perfect way to de-stress, but were quickly proven wrong. The alcohol didn't loosen you up in the way you intended, having the opposite effect and only winding you tighter, bringing the worst to the surface. No matter how many drinks you downed, you dwelled on the same worries, increasingly fussed over the same insecurities, and grew more and more miserable with each passing moment. If anything, the negative thoughts got louder, more pressing, drowning out any chance you had of enjoying the evening.

On top of your already awful state of mind, it seemed everything else had to go wrong as well. One of your friend's left early after getting into a fight with her boyfriend, and the other met someone who she wanted to leave with, and who were you to drag her down with you? She didn't ask twice when you told her to go on ahead, you'd be fine. You hadn't been fine the whole night, and now you waited impatiently for the bartender, who seemed keen on ignoring you, so that you could close your tab. At least this would be the end, you attempted to console yourself with that thought. No matter how long it took, this would be it, and you could try again tomorrow.

Along the wall, neon pink lights beckoned, shaped into the words, "Stay awhile." You felt mocked by them. No, I don't think I will. You were getting antsy, the snobby crowd, shitty music, and dim lighting making you dizzy and irritable. You pulled at the bottom of your tight dress, a fashion choice you now regretted in a room full of stuck-up assholes, shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting about nervously, knowing realistically that nobody was paying attention to you but simultaneously feeling as if all eyes in the room were on your lonely self. You were hoping not to have to raise your voice over all of the noise to get the bartender's attention, but this was getting ridiculous.

Just when you were working up the courage to assert yourself, there was a presence at your side, uttering such an incredibly corny pickup line, you almost thought you were hallucinating.

“Hey Doll, are ya tired? Cuz’ you’ve been runnin’ through my mind all day."

You snapped your neck towards the unsuspecting victim, ready to tell him to get lost.

Or not?

Your body betrayed your mind, coming alive at the sight of him, heart fluttering, throat going dry, and an odd churning of heat in your stomach. He looked like trouble, this stranger, unlike any other man in this bar, adorned in a satin, animal-print, button-down, belted dress pants, and a wolfish smirk. Even his sunshine blonde hair was styled into an odd cut with angled bangs that fell around his face with the way he tilted his head at you.

Pairing his eccentric looks with his equally strange and humorous greeting, you were curious about him, to say the least, curious enough to forget about looking for a bartender and to forget that you were supposed to be dejected, not captivated, ready to leave, not ready to stay. The "Stay Awhile" sign glowed brighter, pulsing, like it was laughing at you. You both loved and hated that whatever he had going on was working on you. He'd easily ensnared you, and you had to give him bonus points for being able to do so when you were in such a sour mood too.

Still, you weren't going to let him off that easy, not with how smug he looked.

"Doll?" You challenged, raising your eyebrows at him. "And how could I have been on your mind all day? We've just met."

He straightened at your stiff tone, lifting his elbow off of the bar, cheeks reddening ever so slightly under your cold gaze. "Would you prefer I call you something else?"

Cute. You almost decided to go easy on him, with how unnerved he looked.

"Buy me a drink." Now it was your turn to grin, suppressing laughter at the panic in his dark, glazed-over eyes. "Then you can call me whatever you want."

His lips broke out into another smirk, his confidence returning. "Careful," he crooned. "What can I get ya?"

You told him your usual, and he waved the bartender over smoothly. Had you not been distracted by something glinting inside of this mystery man's mouth, you would've glared at the guy behind the bar who had refused to acknowledge you this whole time but eagerly came running over to him. After he ordered himself and you another round, you interjected, asking to close your tab. Surely there was no need for you to keep it open now.

"Wish I'd've found ya earlier." He moved in closer, practically sliding towards you. "You wouldn't have had a tab to pay."

You smiled cheekily, too distracted by the glimpses of silver you were catching each time he opened his mouth. "Is that...?" You bit your lip, shyly pointing at his lips. "Is that a tongue piercing?"

"Sure is." He stuck his tongue out for your viewing pleasure, making you gasp and giggle excitedly. "Ya like it, doll? Can I call ya that now that your drink's being made, or do I have to wait till it's in front of you?"

"I do like it," you complimented flirtatiously. "I think the bartender hates me, so it may be awhile," you added, laughing sheepishly. "So I suppose it's fine to call me that now."

"Hates you?" He laughed with you. "What'd ya do for him to do that?"

"Existed. I don't know." You rolled your eyes. "I've been waiting here forever trying to close out my tab so I could go."

"He's an idiot." He downed the rest of his drink before continuing, pushing it forward along the bar. "Don't know how he, or any guy here for that matter, could ignore a pretty thing like you. Guess I should be glad I was the one to catch ya before you left, though." He smiled lazily, unabashedly letting his eyes drift up and down your figure.

You shivered under his sultry eyes, interrupted when the rude bartender returned, sliding your drinks across the bar and letting your receipt clatter down in front of you without so much as looking your way, already off to service the next stuck-up-looking schmuck. The man at your side scoffed, puffing his chest up, looking ready to say something, but you quickly signed your receipt and grabbed his attention again before he could start any sort of confrontation.

"So, are you going to ask me for my name or will I always just be doll?" You batted your lashes at him, enjoying the attention you were receiving after the shitty night you had.

You were sure that had any other man in this bar approached you the way he did, it wouldn't work out in their favor. His unconventional looks and ways were wildly attractive and made you feel special to have reeled him in without even meaning to. The girl you were now seemed entirely different from the one you were just before he came over. He hadn't even known that he had completely flipped your night upside down. You had been ready to bite someone's head off, and now, you were relaxed again, easing into your soft and feminine side when he naturally made you feel like you were the only woman in the room.

"What's your name, pretty?" He asked, clearly having a thing for all the classic pet names, though you certainly didn't mind.

"(Y/N). What's yours?"

"Shinji."

"Shinji." You nodded to yourself. "Do you use goofy pick up lines on all the girls, Shinji?" You teased.

"Only the cute ones in sexy little dresses," he teased back.

"I was actually just thinking this dress was a bit much," you confessed, subconsciously reaching to tug it down again.

"And you were trying to leave." Shinji narrowed his eyes at you. "You weren't having a good time tonight?"

"Not really." You shrugged, anxiously chugging your drink.

"How come?" He asked softly, frowning and seemingly genuinely concerned about you, this stranger.

"I've just been really stressed lately," you explained. He nodded in understanding, and you hesitated before opening up to him more, giving him a few more personal details about what's been on your mind. You avoided looking at him, taking more sips of your drink, a little embarrassed about drunkenly oversharing to him, but he was the first person to truly listen to you all night.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand.

"Where?"

"To de-stress." He smirked.

It was vague, possibly dangerous, and still, you slipped your hand into his, letting him drag you away from the bar and along the floor, heading to a back room where there were more bodies, more bass, more noise. As the space got more crowded, you released his hand, grabbing onto his bicep instead and tucking into his side. You felt him laugh against you and curl his arm slightly to squeeze you in closer.

"You're gonna make me dance?!" You yelled to him over the music, nervously observing the people near you, some with friends, others with lovers, flailing about chaotically or grinding against one another.

Your eyes widened as a girl nearby was bent over, face down, ass up, a man behind her looking all too proud. Shinji followed your gaze and chuckled.

He leaned in, inches away from your face. "Do you want to dance?"

His scent, expensive and comforting, flooded your senses. As appealing as moving your body against his sounded, it wasn't exactly what you had in mind, at least not here right now in front of everybody. You'd rather be tucked away somewhere, having to stay close to hear each other, so close where you could let that scent of his infiltrate your mind and make you forget all your worries.

"No," you said into his ear. "I just want to be close to you."

A look of surprise ghosted over his features before settling into relaxed confidence once more. "I've got ya."

He pulled you along the dance floor, through the sweaty bodies and drunk patrons, not stopping until he found a small booth tucked away in a dark corner, precisely the kind of spot for the pair of you. You shimmied your way in and he settled in next to you, thighs bumping together and feet tangling under the small table.

"So did it hurt?" You asked, resuming conversation up close so that you could hear one another, greedily inhaling his cologne.

"When I fell from heaven?" He snickered.

"We're done with the pickup lines," you scolded playfully. "I'm asking about your tongue piercing." You took a sip from your drink, eyeing him.

He shrugged. "Sure. It hurt initially, and then a little soreness after. Nothing I can't handle."

Like a pervert, you silently wondered if he had a complex, a sort of thing for pain. Maybe you'd find out. Maybe you wouldn't.

"Do you have any piercings?" He asked, nudging you, interrupting your unseemly thoughts. The tiniest bit of contact from him only had more unseemly thoughts flooding in to replace the others.

"Just my ears." You pulled your hair away from your neck to show him the couple of jewels poked through your lobes. "When I was in college, I actually went with a few of my friends to get my nipples pierced," you giggled to yourself. "My friend went first and freaked out so bad, it freaked me out. There was no way I was gonna do it after that."

"So ya bailed on her?!" He laughed at you.

"I wasn't the only one doing it with her!" You defended. "There was a third of us, and she actually went through with it and took it like a champ. It's better I didn't get them pierced. I don't think I'm that kind of girl." You blushed hard, thankful for the minimal lighting.

"And what kind are you?" Shinji looked you up and down, as if already making his own assessment.

"The kind who plays it safe," you admitted, albeit with a little bit of shame. "I'm very good at chickening out."

"You're a good girl," he said it in a way to compliment you, erasing your shame. "I like good girls."

"Wouldn't you get bored with someone like me?" You gulped your drink, a bit of your insecurity still leaking through.

"I don't get bored, no," he said seriously and finitely, taking a generous sip from his own glass. "Besides," he leaned in closer, "good girls are more fun in that way. They usually have a lot to hide, and it's quite the opposite of boring getting to find all that stuff out."

You smiled coyly, appreciating the way he was reading you, slithering in and making bold assumptions like that, bold assumptions that made you feel desirable. You needed him to know that the desire was mutual.

"You smell good," you finally told him, looking down at his lips and back up at his sharp, perceptive eyes, if you were being bold with each other now.

"So do you." He tilted his head, letting his nose just barely brush against your ear, his breath hitting your neck as he inhaled and exhaled. "Like a picnic."

"A picnic?" You laughed.

"In a field of flowers with lots of sweets," he explained, lightly brushing his lips against your neck. "Cakes, cookies, peaches, cherries...just wanna take a bite."

The wind was knocked out of you.

"Should we go?" You practically panted. "I - I mean after we finish our drinks?"

"We'll have to pay the jackass at the other bar one last visit so I can close out my tab," he sighed, "but yeah," and then smiled seductively. "Let's get out of here."

Prancing out of the bar with your hand wrapped around his bicep again felt like an act of rebellion, a resistance against the previous grievances of the night, and a defiance against your usual proper and modest ways. Maybe the alcohol was finally working in your favor, or maybe it was just that Shinji had a way of bringing out your carefree, playful, and humorous nature, your very best. You felt happiest when you were laughing, and now, as he whispered silly remarks about random passerby's in your ear and tripped over nothing and kept saying and doing stupid things just to make you grin, your face hurt from smiling so much. You didn't care where you were going, as long as it was with him, and the night that you were so desperate to leave behind had turned into one that you never wanted to end.

As expected, you ended up at his place. Like him, the inside was both suave and eccentric. He kicked off his shoes, flicked on dim lights and moved through the kitchen, going to get himself another drink as he asked your distracted self if you were hungry or thirsty, ever the gracious host.

"Water's fine," you mumbled haphazardly, discarding your heels at the door and taking in your surroundings.

He had an artfully messy collection of vinyl records, a desk with both organized and scattered papers and files, bookshelves full of fiction, history, and magazines. The furniture was dark and refined, like it was straight from an old speakeasy where they played nothing but smooth jazz and made strong, pretty cocktails. The space was a comforting combination of carefully arranged pieces and evidence that it was truly lived in. It was homey, and it was so him, spontaneous yet calculated, different yet beautiful.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting guests tonight, much less a pretty lady such as yourself," he commented self-consciously as he handed you a glass of water. "I haven't cleaned."

"No," you shook your head at him, "it's beautiful. I'm sorry for snooping around, I just really like it." You beamed.

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Mhmm," you hummed contentedly, wondering what his bedroom looked like.

He must've been a mind reader, draping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in that direction. "Well in that case, let me show you more of it."

Your mouth parted. Dark silk sheets and a large mirror on the wall, right in front of the bed, had you clenching your thighs together. His scent was everywhere in the room, like an aphrodisiac, hypnotizing you. He left your side to set his glass on the nightstand before leaping into his bed, posing on his side with his head propped up on his hand. "So, what do ya think, doll?"

You guffawed at him and clapped your hand over your mouth. "I think you're a real piece of work." You shook your head at him, suppressing a grin. "Your bed's nicer than mine is."

He was wearing a crooked, devilish smile, knowing that he was a piece of work, and you still wanted to fuck him. "Well? You coming in here with me or not?" He patted the mattress.

You bit your lip to contain your excitement, taking your time to carefully place your glass of water on the nightstand and toss your purse into a chair in the corner, just to tease him. You crawled onto the soft sheets, mirroring him and propping yourself up on your side. His eyes followed the curve of your figure, all the way down and back up, landing on your cleavage.

"Perv," you taunted.

"You love it," he practically growled.

"And what if I do?" You purred back.

"Then that makes you one too." He winked.

You fell into silence with him, eye-fucking each other.

And then the bed shifted as he moved toward you, coming to place his hands on either side of you, caging you in beneath him before dipping his head, taking your lips into his.

Shinji tasted like liquor and risky choices. You eagerly opened your mouth, taking that risk, letting him violate your mouth with that tongue of his that you were so enthralled with, curiously searching for his piercing to see what it would feel like. His knowing laugh vibrated through you, making you whine with embarrassment. He pulled away to kiss along your jaw and neck, surprising you with a lick to your throat, the jewel scraping against your tender skin and making you gasp. While he kissed and licked and sucked lower and lower, devouring you, his hand drifted up your thigh, dangerously close to where the bottom of your dress crinkled, just over your panties.

You squirmed and fussed. He was doing this purposely, dragging his piercing in between your breasts, massaging circles into your thighs but refusing to go any higher. You were not-so-subtly rubbing them together, both trying to hint to him that you needed to be touched and to create some sort of friction in the meantime. He continued to taunt you, chuckling into your chest before pulling his hand away completely, sitting up to pridefully take in your defeated state beneath him.

"You look so cute right now," he said, squishing your cheeks in his large hand. "You should see yourself."

You could hardly think of what you must've looked like right now, too infatuated with him towering over you, his pants tightening around his cock. With your face cupped in his hand, eyes glassy with carnal desire, he was giggling quietly to himself as you stared. You hadn't properly been touched yet, and you were already melting into his silky sheets.

"Come here." He released your face and beckoned with his finger.

Confused, you slowly sat up, watching him spin around to sit at the edge of the bed and nod towards his lap. You furrowed your brows before catching sight of that damned full-length mirror. You had almost forgotten about it, and how could you?! Crawling over to him, he helped you get seated into his lap, one arm wrapped around your upper abdomen, and the other above your hip, a hand resting on your stomach and another just below your boob. With your dress bunched up and almost exposing yourself, your bum was seated comfortably atop the bulge in his tight dress pants. The hand beneath your breast reached up to grab your cheeks again, directing your gaze forward where your wide-eyed reflection looked back at you. You throbbed at the sight, his manspread and the places his protective hands were positioned, your skimpy dress and cleavage littered with love bites.

"See?" He nipped at your ear. "So cute."

You sighed softly as heat simultaneously flooded into your nether regions and your plush cheeks, squished under his delicate fingers. Being forced to watch yourself get played with, it was equal parts sexy and humiliating. You were burning up in his hold, painfully aware of his erection pressing so near to your dampening panties. You dared to spread your legs a little wider, making yourself moan as you moved against him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He feigned concern.

"Please," you begged him pathetically. "How much longer are you going to tease me?"

"If ya want something from me, all ya gotta do is ask," he baited you.

You huffed. "Touch me! Please!"

"I am touching you," he murmured into your neck, squeezing your cheeks and pressing his hand into your stomach for emphasis.

"No!" You pouted, clawing at his arm wrapped around you. You grabbed his hand and put it high on your thigh. "Pleeeease," you slurred.

"You have to say it." He grinned.

You sobbed, embarrassed. "Fine! Touch my pussy!" You winced at your own words.

"Atta girl," he chuckled, amused by your discomfort. He reached for your panties under your dress. Pressing a kiss to your glowing cheeks. "Don't be so afraid to tell me what ya want. I want to hear that pretty little mouth of yours say nasty things."

You lifted your hips to help him as he dragged the fabric over your hips and down your thighs. You shook them off of your legs, watching in the mirror as they fell to the floor.

"Spread your legs," Shinji demanded.

Whiny sounds of struggle escaped your mouth as you opened them over his lap, gasping at the sight of yourself in the mirror, and at the way he was watching too. Now that he'd had you flustered enough, he didn't waste any more time, wrapping an arm back around your waist to hold you up while he reached in between your legs with the other, running a finger through your weeping slit. You squeaked at the contact, reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck for support.

"Fuck," Shinji cursed under his breath as he pushed a finger inside of your walls. "You're so wet." He groaned as he started to slowly push it in and out of you, watching your lips part and chest heave with shaky breaths. "This is why I like good girls," he reminded you. "Acting so sweet and obedient while your pussy was drooling over me this whole time, huh?"

His filthy words made you cry out. "Oh, God, yes!" You confessed. "It was so wet. I needed you so bad."

"Shit, keep talking like that, sweetheart," he panted, positioning his hand to better curl his finger in and out of you while his thumb massaged your clit.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands as you made a mess on his slacks, rotating your hips into his palm. He hissed as your ass grinded down onto his crotch, involuntarily bucking up into you as he gripped your torso with fervor, trying to hold you into place.

"You're gonna make me cum in my pants, baby," he whimpered. "Squirming against me like that."

"Are these good pants?" You asked dazedly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Does it matter?" He laughed viciously. "You don't need to worry about that, just keep fucking yourself on my fingers, sweetheart."

You moaned and mewled sweetly while you obeyed him, eyes fluttering open and closed as you observed your shuddering body in the mirror. Shinji continued looking too, going back and forth between watching your flushed face and his soaked fingers moving in and out of you, your reflections making intense, intimate eye contact a few times. Each time you met his eyes, you thought you may explode right then and there. You were dripping so much that there were squelching noises coming from between your thighs, growing louder than your shared pants and moans. The way he moved his fingers and the pace he adopted had you thinking he was doing it on purpose, trying to embarrass you again with how sloppy your pussy sounded while you locked eyes with him.

"You look so pretty," he whispered as your eyes met again. "All blushy and vulnerable and messy in my lap."

"I feel so pretty with you. You're so hot," you wailed, hardly able to finish your sentence, but you knew it'd drive him crazy, hearing you spew filth. "Wanna see how pretty I look when I'm taking your dick?"

"Oh, fuck," Shinji groaned, the pace of his fingers on you and in you faltering. "Alright." He pulled his fingers from you, making you pout and protest at the sudden loss of contact, though it was your words that brought this upon yourself. "I'm about to fucking burst. Will you be a doll and lay back so I can get us out of these clothes?"

You didn't want to move, but listened anyway, clambering off of him and onto the sheets beside him. You watched him with longing and impatience, an ache growing between your legs where he was working you up only to abandon you. He unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers before undoing his belt, tearing it loudly through the loops of his pants. He hurried out of them, ignoring the damp patch of your juices at the groin to focus on getting out of his socks and boxers as well.

While you witnessed him undressing, his long, pretty cock springing free, your hand had mindlessly wandered back down to your heat, finding your clit to give yourself some sort of satisfaction while he made you wait. The minute he caught you, he was wrenching your hand away and ripping your dress off of you so roughly you were getting whiplash, not that you minded.

"So fucking beautiful," he muttered, allowing himself a moment to admire your nude form before manhandling you into position in front of the mirror again, on all fours where you could watch him take you from behind.

Anticipation made your legs twitch as he nudged them apart slightly, opening you up a little further to take him. "Ready, cutie?" He ran a hand down your spine, grabbing your hips.

"Yes," you moaned, before looking back at him and cheekily wiggling your hips. "Please fuck me."

"Not such a good girl now." He slapped your ass, looking pleased.

Already painfully hard and leaking, Shinji grabbed himself and entered you, starting slowly but not giving it much time before he began thrusting into you at an animalistic pace, cursing and grunting and groaning. You thought you'd be fine to take him with how much he had already prepped you, but pain tore through you as he snapped his hips against yours. Each time he speared into you at this angle, you felt as though you were being ripped apart, a swell of pressure too intense to be pleasurable repeatedly plunging into your core. You bit your tongue and squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to take the pain in hopes that it would soon turn to pleasure, but he was too big to be going this fast already.

Unable to stand it any longer, you released a yelp of pain, gripping the sheets in your fists and looking away from the mirror. "Wait! Hurts! It hurts!" You cried.

"Shit." Shinji pulled out immediately, lifting you into his arms and holding you tightly in a sort of protective bear hug. "I hurt you, baby? Tell me what I did, was I too rough?"

In his embrace, your pain faded away, only to be replaced with guilt. You knew you hadn't done anything wrong, but that insufferable, tiny voice in your head was yelling at you for ruining the mood.

"I'm sorry," you panted, looking away from his concerned gaze shamefully. "It's not your fault. It just hurts from the back sometimes."

"No, it is my fault," he said sternly, petting your hair. Speaking more gently now, "I got carried away and was way too rough with you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you promised him, able to face him now. "Maybe we can try from this angle?" You suggested, still wanting him to pound you, especially after seeing how gentle he could be with you. "And a little slower, at least to start?"

"You sure?" His brown eyes were full of worry. "You don't need me to work you open a little more?"

"No, I still want your cock. Now," you said eagerly, gripping his arms.

"Alright." He smiled sweetly, kissing your temple with care. "Slower."

He wrapped an arm around you, using his free hand to reposition himself at your entrance for the second time. Your thighs quivered once more as you felt the tip prod your entrance, rubbing through your folds before he gently pushed back into you, filling you halfway before dragging out. He was much more cautious now, afraid to break you, and it was blissful and torture at the same time. You needed more.

"You can go deeper," you encouraged him, knowing that he was trying to be soft with you.

"Tell me if I hurt you again," he commanded before filling you up further. "You promise you will?"

"I promise," you assured.

With your word, he sunk deeper into your cunt, and at this new angle, you found it easier to take him, leaning your head back against his shoulder and whimpering into the air. You remembered the mirror and opened your eyes, watching his length glide in and out of you and your ass and thighs rippled with each gentle thrust. He whined into the crook of your neck, starting to increase his pace little by little, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort all the while. You kept nodding to him and letting him know to keep going, more, more, more, faster, harder. You let your sobs of pleasure grow louder and more shrill, struggling to hold yourself upwards as he fucked into you.

"Shinji," you whined for him.

"What's wrong?" He fretted.

"Can I," you were falling apart, finding it increasingly difficult to get the words out. "Can I suck on your fingers?"

He groaned in response, bringing his hand to your mouth and watching in the mirror as he shoved two fingers past your lips, letting you drool and swirl your tongue around them.

"Shit." He shut his eyes, tucking his nose into your neck, breathing in nothing but you. "I'm gonna cum."

You hummed with approval around his fingers. He pressed them against your tongue as he thrusted into you with more vigor now, chasing his high. Your eyes were fluttering closed over and over again, but you forced them open, wanting to watch him as he came, his hips stuttering against yours and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he moaned and groaned and took staggered breaths.

He pulled his fingers and his cock out of you, collapsing back to shoot white spurts of his seed onto his stomach, working himself empty with his hand. You crawled to his side, watching in awe as his dick twitched as if having a mind of its own. You waited until he was finished to dip your head and bring your tongue to his stomach, licking up the remains.

He made a high-pitched sound of surprise that made you giggle. Watching with wide eyes and an almost pained expression as you licked him clean.

"I think I'm in love with you," he announced breathlessly. "Lay down." Despite how exhausted he looked, he forced himself to sit up, that sunshine hair dancing around his flushed face. "It's your turn."

"I don't need to, Shinji, really." You shook your head, clamping your thighs together.

"No, fuck that." He mindlessly pushed you down into the mattress. "I'm eating your pussy until you're cumming on my face, so do as you're told and lay back."

You squeaked, head spinning as he yanked your legs apart and buried his face into your already ruined pussy. He meant business, finding your clit and sucking on it, lapping his pierced tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips were bucking wildly, already having endured so much stimulation, he had to pin you down, pressing a hand to your stomach to prevent you from lifting your hips.

It was the quietest he had been all night, aside from the lewd slurping noises, so determined to make you see stars. He didn't care how long it took, or how tired he was at having his own orgasm ripped through him. He wasn't going to stop until you'd had your fair share, pumping and curling his fingers in and out of you again.

"I - I think I'm close!" You cried to him, still twitching and squirming about in his silk sheets, at least as much as you could with him pinning you down.

He groaned against you in reply, sucking on your clit hard and twisting his fingers in and out of you at an impossible pace. Moments later, your senses exploded, ceasing to function properly. You saw white and heard static, floating in another realm until you landed back in this one, with Shinji brushing your sweaty hair from your face and caressing your cheek. He sounded distant at first, laughing quietly and kissing away tears from overstimulation.

Then you heard him clearly again. "You okay, doll?" Doll. The damned pet name that started this whole mess, Shinji's favorite thing to call you, it seemed.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Your body was cold, like all the energy you had stored had been expended. Without realizing, you were curling into him, seeking his warmth. "I'm so sleepy."

"Yeah?" He chuckled affectionately at you, his voice hoarse. It was a sound you wish you could store in a jar and take with you everywhere you went, to listen to whenever you wanted. "Me too. Ya wanna go to bed with me?"

"Shouldn't I clean myself up a bit?" You croaked, though as you uttered the words, you weren't sure how you were going to get your limp body into motion. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fancy sheets." You smiled lazily.

"Don't you worry about that," he cooed. "I'll go get a warm cloth so you can feel nice."

You watched his skinny figure half-saunter half-stagger from the bed and to the bathroom, missing his warmth already. As you lay atop his fine sheets, you had the thought that you never wanted to leave. This stranger's home had become your new favorite place, this stranger your new favorite person. Goofy, witty, protective, unique, easygoing, and definitely good in bed...you were so damn glad he used that stupid pickup line on you at the bar.

At the sound of the distant running water, you let your eyes shut, stirring only when you heard him come back, the bed shifting under his weight. He gently pulled your legs apart and cleaned up the sticky mess the both of you left behind, grinning a tad when you flinched and twitched, still sensitive and slightly sore.

He hurried away to toss the cloth in the hamper, coming back to hit the lights and throw the sheets over your naked bodies. You wasted no time finding him in the dark, snaking an arm around his chest and lifting your leg to drape across his waist. He sighed contentedly, pulling you into him and running his fingers along your side.

The gesture must've reminded him of where his fingers had been earlier. "What was that fingers in the mouth business about? You like sucking on stuff?"

"I thought we were going to bed?" You pouted, avoiding his question.

"Alright, alright," he laughed, falling back into silence momentarily.

But Shinji didn't know how to shut up for long. "Looks like my pickup line was pretty effective," he muttered pridefully.

You giggled tiredly at him. "I guess it was, dork."

"It will be a great story to tell our kids in the future," he said.

"What?"

Shinji's wifey tag: @tomitsulikeslemons :P

#bleach #shinji hirako #bleach x reader #shinji bleach #bleach shinji #shinji hirako smut #shinji hirako x you #hirako shinji x reader #shinji x reader #shinji hirako bleach #shinji hirako x reader #bleach smut #bleach x you #bleach x y/n

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zoloft3 · 1 day ago

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godly summer

☆彡eijiro kirishima x reader

tags -- > summer camp AU, found family, confessions, alcohol and weed mentions, ex! bakugou and best friend! bakugou, its a little poetic don't be mad guys

a/n : this whole fic was inspired by @rueclfer and their evergreen smau series. I read like one sentence of one of the chapters and had war flash back levels of inspiration and somehow... this was born. hope u guys enjoy :p

-------༚☆༚-------

The water was cool against the skin of your ankles. You listened to the sound of the dock beneath you, wondering how something so completely dead, could make so much noise. Funny how certain sounds are always there, and you only notice when you’re alone with them.

That was how you felt about Eijiro too.

You’d spent almost every summer of your life together. But it wasn’t until this one that you noticed him, when you were the only two who came back. Out of that original group of ten, just you and him were left.

His face was lit by the glow of the fireflies, soft and tinged slightly green. His shoulders back as he rested against the wooden planks. You had never known his silhouette, his neck and face, like you do now. Never yearned everyday and begged to your gods, the gods that ruled this summer, for someone like you did for him. Unending, searing heat, that ruled every year and softened the blade of time. Like the stove determines every dinner, the click of the burner signaling the start, summer wouldn’t be the same without him.

He was always there, right next to you. Playing with the tadpoles you’d catch in your bright blue bucket, chasing after you on your bike as everyone raced to the dining hall for dinner. You’d push him in the pool and he’d beat you in every game of volleyball. Always pushing and pulling, a tidal reminder of your friendship, he’d never been anywhere but next to you.

The moment you realized that, it was like fate whispering in your ear. Like an invisible hand had turned your head ever so slightly, right in his direction. You wondered how you’d never thought to look that way before.

༚

He had been chasing the kids around all day. Unfortunately, one of you campers had caught a cold and you'd been cooped up inside, leaving Eijiro to take over many of your duties. When the day had finally come to a close, dusk sweeping over the valley, he'd returned to your shared cabin. Collapsing beside you on your bunk, he let out the biggest sigh before turning to you whispering, “Don’t ever let me go out there alone without you again.”

You glanced over at him from your book, and immediately your heart stopped. Pupils dilating, you watched his chest move with each breath and realized how beautiful he’s always been. Big eyes looking up at you like there was no one he’d rather be staring back at.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

༚

The dock sighed under his shifting weight and the memory was gone, slipping down to the bottom of the lake.

He was leaning forward, your shoulders now touching. You watched him as he looked out to the tree line decorating the mountain you grew up under.

“Do you think you’ll ever stop coming back?” He asked and finally turned to look at you.

“I don’t think it would be the same if I did.” You answered, “My life would be completely different. Everything revolves around these three months, if I stopped coming I… I don’t know.”

You looked away, the black lake water consuming you. What would you do? Live in a city for the rest of your life, dreaming about this place like someone yearns for their first love? Pathetic and boring, working some dumb office job you’d never be happy in? If there was no summer, there wasn’t anything else.

“It’d be like loosing a piece of yourself, right?”

You turned back to him, surprised that he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching his hair in the wave breeze, “That’s exactly it.”

You were silent for a few minutes, gathering your thoughts and listening to the swaying of the reeds, “How come it’s only been you and me together… now? Why were we so far apart for so long?”

You noticed his chest deflate, eyes widening “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I?” The thought of him being upset with you, was almost heartbreaking.

“You know,” He looked so tired, like this was a topic he’d spent his whole life studying, but you’d never even heard of it before.

“I don’t,” You pleaded, “Please, tell me.”

“Katsuki. It was always Katsuki to you. I was just… never enough. Whatever we were was never enough compared to you and him.”

Your heart crumpled. Mostly because he was right.

Ever since that first summer, when you were all 6 years old. Too young for the sleep away camp, but all your parents had decided to stay in the rentable cabins for a few weeks. You and Katsuki had been the first to meet. From first glance, and then first tree fort, you were inseparable. Everyone else came after that, and you made the best friends you’d ever have in your lifetime. But no one could compete with you and Katsuki.

You all had come together to form one of the strongest friend groups, pulling the parents in too. It became a tradition. Every year, the same place. A big family that everyone made together. The gods had been stitching the quilt for centuries, and you all had no choice but to be stitched alongside one another.

The year you all turned twelve, everyone was old enough for the sleep away camp. That’s when it became inevitable. Some of the parents still came, nervous about their babies being all alone, but by fourteen it was the ten of you against the world. Ochako had stopped coming by fifteen. She needed a summer job that paid more, and nobody could be upset about that. At 16 most of you became counselors.

The summers kept getting longer and the friendships too. Campfires and drinking until sunrise. Smoking under redwoods and sex on the forest floor where no one was watching. Phones tossed in the lake and break-ups so tragic they threatened to tear everything apart. Until the next game night, or scavenger hunt, or drunk birthday party had everyone stuck together again. Nobody could stay away for long. You’d be texting all year, sending memes and creating snapchat streaks larger than your bank account balance at times.

It was only a matter of time though. Before everything began to fall apart.

The summer before senior year was the best and the last good one. Everyone was there. Ochako, who had negotiated a raise with the camp director. Hanta, who's mother had threatened to never let him come back after last year’s laced weed incident.

It was the summer you kissed Eijiro for the first time. A game of truth or dare had put the two of you out on the lake, naked and in a row boat (don’t ask). He was gorgeous and staring at your naked body like he wanted to swallow it whole, so you thought 'why not kiss him?'

Unfortunately, it didn’t lead very far, his knee between your legs shifted the weight of the boat a bit too far. You both had to swim back naked and in the pitch black with only the stars to guide you. The whole situation was too dark and wet to search for your clothes, so you both scrambled back to your respective cabins as quickly as possible, forgetting the whole thing. But not really.

You never forgot how his lips felt, or his hands pulled on your waist and then your hips. How easily he pried you open, and scraped you clean.

You did forget about Katsuki, though.

༚

The two of you had been best friends since day one. He was your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time, first love, first breakup, and first life long friend.

But after senior year, only half of you returned. Most too busy prepping and moving away to college. Mina was moving to Paris, Denki and Hanta off to california for school, and so on. It left the next summer with just you, Izuku, Katsuki and Eijiro. It wasn't inheirantly terrible, the four of you getting along fine for the most part. But that didn't take away from the feeling that your whole world was falling apart. it was as if summer was crumbling under your feet and attempting to drag you down into the lake. The weight of it's loss forcing you to sink into its depths forever.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone. Izuku had finally landed a job, and Katsuki was off traveling with his new boyfriend. It was all terribly perfect for everyone else. You could barely open your phone, without being bombarded with pictures and messages about how wonderfully everyone's lives were going. How easily they managed to move on without you, without summer.

You’d dated the loud blonde when you were 14, but it only lasted two years. The two of you had eventually realized that you were not good as partners and decided to just be friends again. Somehow, the romance had replaced your best friend, and you needed him more than you needed a boyfriend.

It was very amicable, but not without tears. You were terrified that the break up meant losing him. Which was part of the reason you held on for so long. But luckily it did the opposite, You were closer than ever. He’d burn the world for you, and you’d always call him first before anyone else for anything. Summer had that effect. A soothing and thick honey that healed over burns and cuts like no other medicine. Something about this place, its humid air and smokey breeze made it impossible to remember your grievances and hold onto grudges. Under the gaze of the mountain and beneath the faceless moon, you were home. Nothing could destroy that, as long as you were here.

༚

Coming back to the conversation you sighed, “Right, Katsuki.”

Looking at it from an outsiders perspective. You were a bit untouchable. Katsuki was very overprotective and you guys did everything together. If someone was trying to get your attention, without Katsuki noticing, it would be near impossible.

“Yeah,” Eijiro smiled in exasperation, “You know he punched me in the face for that night on the boat right?”

You gasped, “Really? That’s what that black eye was from?”

You completely forgot but now distinctly remember Eijiro gaining a black eye soon after the boat kiss.

“Yeah,” He sighed, “But you see now, don’t you? He was always first, and it was hard to be second.”

You remembered his and Mina’s cute but very short relationship that transpired a few weeks after that kiss. It ended quickly in the fall, but you remembered how strange it was that he was with her. They got along well, sure, but you couldn’t help but wonder why her, and not you?

Now you know.

“I’m sorry,” You put your hand over his, “If I’d known, It could’ve been different.”

“Oh no,” He smiled, reaching up to smooth a thumb across your cheek, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were whispered to once again, the gods pushed your head forward, connecting your lips.

༚

The next day, you picked up the old payphone outside the office and called Katuski. It rang only once before he picked up.

"Hello, you," You called into the receiver, smiling fondly.

"Hello," You could hear the smile in his voice, "I was just thinking about calling you."

"Oh really? Why's that?" You and Katsuki could go weeks without speaking. Often times only calling or texting when something important was happening. But as soon as you reached out, all the pieces fell back into place, and it was like no time had passed at all.

"You'll never guess who just got proposed to. In front of the Eiffel Tower no less, I almost said no," He answered and you could practically see the smirk on his face

"Katsuki!" You shouted for joy, "I'm so happy for you. Really, you've no idea."

"Yeah, the whole thing is ridiculous, but unfortunately I love him," He sighed dramatically, "Now, what did want to talk about?"

"Well I have some news too," You bit your lip, attempting to contain your exictment and preparing for the onslaught of questions, "Eijiro and I are dating."

"What?!"

There was a loud bump, followed by a thud on the other line, "Sorry, ahem, when the fuck did that happen?"

"well it's been going on for a while, but officially, its only been since last night. We kissed on the dock over the lake and talked for hours. It was so romantic I'm sure you would've had a heart attack."

"I think I'm having one right now."

You laughed, truly happy. In that singular moment as you leaned against the old yellow plexiglass of payphone box, listening to Katuski rant about the responsibilities of a real relationship and safe sex, summer was back. Patting you softly on the shoulder, you closed your eyes, letting it's heat fully embrace you.

Then the dinner bell rung, and the moment passed, carried away on by the evening breeze.

"Listen, 'Tsuki, i've got to go, but I love you, congratulations, text me later okay?"

"Love you too, idiot. Go give Ei a slap on a back for me. Don't tell him it was me though."

You smiled, imagining him slapping Eijiro so hard he started coughing, "Wouldn't dream of it."

༚

You returned to your cabin that night, happier than you'd been in years. The weight on your chest was light and unthreatening. There was something different in the air now. A change of perspective, perhaps.

You knew now that summer would always be there. No matter who joined you, it was something you built over years of loving and laughing. You still knew this place, its trees and streams and fireflies. The memories would never leave, the friendships wouldn't cease to exist. Even if it's not the same, even if it's over, it still happened. Summer would always follow, as long as you made sure to look back from time to time.

The second you walked in the door he came to meet you. The love on his face was enough to ease any remaining worries. Everything else fell away as he held your face in his hands.

You wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you. Summer never tasted so sweet as it did on his lips.

When you were with him, it seemed to never end.

-------༚☆༚-------

a/n : leaving notes and rebloging helps me to keep writing, so please don't be shy if you liked what you read :)

thanks again to @saemeret for being my beta, couldn't have gotten the courage to do this without you <3

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bluepurplepinklock · 10 hours ago

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Tsundere! Itoshi Rin x reader, where he insists he's well despite having a fever and you take care of him, making him open up to you a little more.

You wondered what lay beneath the hundred cold walls Rin has built around himself. Maybe more walls to keep others out. To keep you out. Because despite being together for a few months now, you still felt as if he never opened up to you.

Once you thought there was something wrong with you. Maybe Rin wasn't actually in love with you. That's why he still kept his distance. But no, he has proven time and time again, in those subtle ways of his, that the thought is false.

It has now become your mission in life to help him break out of his shell. Because you know, deep beneath those walls, he is lonely and sad and a beautiful person still, a person you'll always love.

And when he woke up with a burning fever beside you, Rin, being his stubborn self decided it was nothing.

"What do you mean it's nothing?" You call out as he slips out of bed, ready to start his day by heading to the gym.

"I said…" he walka to the bathroom with trembling steps, his breath hitching, "don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"You are anything but fine, Rin," you stomp over to him, blocking the bathroom door and glaring up at him, "stay in bed!"

Rin growls, now you have pissed him off. Interrupting his morning routine like this needs guts only you have.

"Listen here…" he trails off, his feet wobbling as he loses balance.

"Shit!" You support him upright, his weight crushing you down as his vision blurs, "Rin! You okay?"

"I'm… I'm fine…" he gasps, and stumbles back towards the bed as you help him lie down.

"Exactly," you scoff, folding your arms as you watch him catch his breath, sprawled on the bed, "you seem perfectly fine."

"…leave." Rin spits out, struggling to grab the covers.

You sigh and sit down beside him, pulling the sheets over him, "Rin, stop it."

He eyes you questioningly, still irritated.

"Stop," you lean forward and brush his soft hair away from his eyes, lightly caressing his face as he visibly relaxes, "stop shutting me out. I want to be with you. I want to see and love everything of you. So please, don't shut me out."

Rin was taken aback, his face dropping his cold mask. After a long stare with your fingers still soothing his face, he shut his eyes and you felt like you had never seen him this relaxed before as he weakly grabbed your palm and placed a feverish kiss on it.

"Sorry," you almost didn't hear him mumble, "I don't want you to leave. I just... I just..." he grabbed his face, trying to contain himself before he slips up and reveals his true self.

His true self which you would see and won't love back. It scares him. That's the only thing that scares him, you leaving him behind like everyone else did, like his brother did. But when he looked into those eyes of yours, drowned in concern and love for him, he decided that maybe you are different. Maybe you would see beneath his mask and still love what you see.

He's willing to take the risk. For you, he's willing.

And so, he opened his arms towards you, his face so loving, needy and human- so unlike the cold, hard mask he always wore, and whispered,

"I'm sorry. I won't shut you out. I want you to... want you to stay..." he gulped, his spread out arms trembling due to his rising fever, "Please?"

With a soft smile, you accept his embrace, snuggling into his heated body as he envelopes you, draping his legs over yours and burying you in his chest.

You wish you could stay that way for longer. But Rin needed medicine, and you were pleasantly surprised when he let you feed him the porridge you prepared.

Maybe after this, he'd start letting you in. Maybe his mask and his walls would slowly melt off until he would be bare before you, and you'd love him still.

A/N: Ah yes, my messed up Rin who shuts people out despite knowing he's damaging himself. Tell me if you guys need more of Tsundere! Rin because I sure do.

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

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runawaycatwalker · 3 days ago

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Part 32. Her Consideration (Midnight Rendezvous, Part B)

< First | < Previous | Next >

Description below the cut

Ladybug sits on her chaise lounge cross-legged and with head in her hands. Chat Noir moves to sit down beside her.

Ladybug: Can I think about this first?

Chat Noir: Of course. You can take all the time you need. But, since I'm here, I can lend an ear and give you my opinions.

Ladybug: I assume that you'd prefer that I find out your identity?

Chat Noir: I support whichever option you pick—even neither. Just not both.

Ladybug: If I pick the Catwalker option, it'd be bad if Mayura ever decides to reveal you. But I'm not so sure she would—she could have told me who you are when we talked, but she deliberately didn't.

Chat Noir: Maybe she's happy to keep my identity to herself if she thinks it gives her the advantage?

Ladybug: Maybe...

Ladybug lays back on the chaise lounge, raising her hands up towards the ceiling, while Chat sits beside her.

Ladybug: And if I picked you instead...? I still wouldn't know how to deal with Catwalker.

Chat Noir: You might not have to. Just let him have another chance and see what he does.

Ladybug: And if he does something terrible? I couldn't forgive myself if he used his Cataclysm on someone else.

Chat Noir: What do you mean 'someone else'?

Ladybug: I'm pretty sure he killed his mom to stop her from finding out his identity.

Chat Noir holds up his hands in deeply disturbed protest, while Ladybug points a finger up at him.

Chat Noir: No. That's... No. That never happened.

Ladybug: He was alone with his mom, so you can't be sure he didn't lie to you about what he really did.

Chat Noir: He's not hiding things from me. I'd definitely know if he was. He has a... tell when he lies. Not anything that anyone else could spot, but to me? It’s extremely obvious. And completely foolproof.

Ladybug: So if I pick Catwalker's 'truth', you'll tell me how to notice his 'tell' too?

Chat Noir: Not directly, but...

Ladybug sits up as Chat points towards her with a smile.

Chat Noir: You'd get on his wavelength, understand how he really thinks. You'd know what lengths he would—and wouldn't—go to. It'd be abundantly clear why I trust him despite his failings. It'd almost be like it was before—it'd feel right again, but without any doubts. And it would mean him knowing that he can open up his heart to you.

Ladybug: Just because he could let me know him, it doesn't mean he wants that.

Chat Noir: Everyone wants to be known—that includes him too. And he'd be so forthcoming if he knew he didn't have to lie about everything anymore.

Ladybug rubs the back of her neck as she raises a contradictory finger. Chat rubs his arm and looks evasive.

Ladybug: He'd tell me everything? Because I know he hasn't told me the full truth about Adrien and doesn't want to...

Chat Noir: Ah. That's... a bit of a touchy subject. I know everything, but... I can’t talk about the Adrien situation without permission.

Ladybug: Catwalker's gagging you?

Chat Noir looks towards Ladybug, holding up a hand to halt her line of thinking.

Chat Noir: No! I have Catwalker's consent to tell you anything I want about him. This is something else. A promise I made to someone.

Ladybug: And this 'someone' is...?

Chat Noir: I can't tell you right now. But you definitely trust them. I'm trying to get their permission to divulge the details to you, but... they have other priorities. You shouldn't make knowing about Adrien the deciding factor for choosing Catwalker.

Ladybug squeezes her pillow in exasperation. Chat Noir leans backwards in contemplation.

Ladybug: I hate this. I hate that no matter what, there's still going to be secrets.

Chat Noir: I know. I hate it too. Whenever you kept me in the dark, I always felt the urge to break something, it was so frustrating. But now that I'm on the other side, I think it's safe to say that keeping all the secrets feels just as horrible. I desperately want to scream the truth from the rooftops, but I have to bite my tongue. It's only because I know that you'd have wanted me to keep these secrets that I've been able to hold back.

Ladybug holds out her hands in front of her as Chat watches.

Ladybug: You make it sound like lying is harder than telling the truth.

Chat Noir: Isn't it?

Ladybug: No! I've had to lie so much, I make up excuses without even thinking anymore! To say nothing of all the things I'm too much of a coward to admit to anyone I care about!

Chat Noir: You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I know.

Ladybug: You wouldn't think that if you knew what I've kept from you.

Chat Noir: Try me. Not that you have to divulge everything. But I'm happier when you let me in. It's better than being left in the dark without even knowing the reason why.

Ladybug: You would know, wouldn't you...?

A closeup of Ladybug clenching her hands, with Chat Noir placing his hand on hers.

Ladybug: Chat, I never told you this, but... we have shared identities before.

Chat Noir: I’m guessing this was during Oblivio since I don’t remember?

Ladybug: No. Well, maybe then too, but that's not what I'm talking about. There have been at least two other times where we ended up finding out who the other person was. Both times, it was so disastrous that time travel was necessary to fix it.

Chat Noir: What happened?

Ladybug: One I don’t really know. The other… I wish I didn’t.

Chat Noir: Please tell me.

Flashback to “Chat Blanc,” after water covers all of Paris and the moon is destroyed. Chat Blanc fights himself as he raises a Mega Cataclysm to the sky. The destroyed form of Ladybug holds out her hand in front of her.

Ladybug (voiceover): You... you got akumatized after learning my identity. And at the point in the timeline when I arrived…? Chat... There was no one left.

Cut back to Chat Noir, lost in the darkness of this revelation.

Ladybug: Chat? Please say something.

Chat Noir: I can't tell you my identity. If me being akumatized means I... I kill everyone...? No one can ever learn who I am...

Ladybug embraces Chat Noir, holding him tight.

Ladybug: No! You have it wrong, Chat! I assumed that the problem was us sharing our identities. That knowing too much made one of us get akumatized. But there's another explanation.

Cut to the image of Chat Noir and Ladybug fist-bumping as civilians, wearing ‘I ♥ LB’ and ‘I ♥ CN’ t-shirts and splashes of their hero costumes. Unbeknownst to them, Mayura is behind them, watching.

Ladybug (voiceover): In Chat Blanc's world, we must have become close as civilians. But Mayura was watching. She would have noticed when we acted too much like we do as Ladybug and Chat Noir. That's what must have led to Hawkmoth ambushing you. They targeted you while you were vulnerable, only for it all to backfire. This time it's different.

Cut back to Ladybug holding Chat Noir’s face in her hands as tears continue to stream down his face.

Ladybug: Mayura did ambush you ...and you got away. I can't imagine what you sacrificed to get away. But me learning your identity can’t lead to total destruction. Not anymore. You already escaped that fate. There's nothing stopping me from learning who you really are now, Chat. So I know what I choose: It's you.

A closeup of Chat Noir’s apprehensively yearning face, Ladybug reflected in his eyes.

Chat Noir: But what about Catwalker? You still don’t trust him.

Ladybug: This is more important. You are more important. You've already given me something about Catwalker I didn't have before: Your certainty. That will have to be enough. You always trusted me without knowing why. Now it's my turn to trust you. Because you need this more than I do. To let your heart be fully known to the one person you've always wanted to share it with. I've seen what happens when you have no one. And maybe this way you'll still be able to have me. I want you to feel safe knowing that I’ll always be looking out for you, no matter what side of the mask you’re on. So please, Chat: Who are you?

Below is the same image as above, only without text:

#runaway catwalker #thanks to blur0se and kasienda for their feedback with this one!#also asukiess for moral support #the next update (plus a couple fun extras) should be out very soon :)#ladybug #chat noir #catwalker #chat blanc #mayura #ml comic #miraculous ladybug

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pedge-page · 2 days ago

Text

I tend to stay quiet about these things because quite frankly I'd blow my lid off and melt the world around me with my fury but.

It amazes me that people can come on here and have the option to be kind to others and leave an incredibly positive impact on people they interact with, and feel good about themselves for it, but choose to be insufferable shitheads who want to bring everyone else down so they feel as miserable and angry too instead. This isn't math class. Two negatives do not equal positive.

For any newbies , we've lost some of the most talented and inspiring writers in this Fandom thanks to these trolls. The same trolls who have been here for less than 2 minutes are the ones who whine about why there isn't enough content coming out fast enough for their enjoyment.

When we say "18+ only" that also applies to people who use their adult brains. If you can't handle that a properly tagged fic that has explicit warnings about its content is stuff you won't like, the mature thing to do is just shut up and move on. When you start to become you own gestopo trying to police other people's FICTIONAL work that had nothing to do with you in the name of purity censorship rather than just moving on with your own life, you've lost all credibility of calling yourself an "adult". Idc how old you are. You're not ready for the internet. You're not ready to be reading fan FICTION. You're not ready to interact with other adults.

If you spent half as much energy doing this level of "activism" in the real world where REAL people are being hurt , you wouldn't have time to be responding to a million messages applauding or condemning you about your take on FICTIONAL. WRITING. You'd actually be doing something useful with your life. But alas, harassing writers is all you're good for.

You are not the hero you so desperately want to think you are.

And folks, if you're going "hey I'm not harassing anyone!" Ask yourself if you've left a racist, homophonic, transphobic, ableist, elitist, narcissistic anon in someone's box. If you meet one of those boxes, guess what! You're the problem !

The internet is going to be filed with things you don't like. It always has. It always will. But guess what? This is gonna be real shocker for some of you:

YOU ARE RESPONSBILE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME, ESPECIALLY AS AN ADULT.

YOU ARE RESPONSBILE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME ESPECIALLY AS AN ADULT.

You picking and choosing what is and isn't ok IN FAN FICTION makes you look stupid. Like I can't tell you how fucking moronically hypocritical some of you are. It has to be a joke.

So if you aren't going to be the adult, and choose to go make a stupid ask to let someone know you don't like their thoughts, don't do it on anon. If you believe in yourself and aren't afraid of your morals, say it with your chest and your profile. Let us be the adults and block you so you don't have to see our content, and we don't have to deal with illiterate kids trying to interact with us anymore.

YOU COULD TAKE OPTION #1 : YOUR VERY OWN LUXURIOUS "BE THE ADULT FIRST" PACKAGE! IT COMES WITH THE INCREDIBLE FEATURE OF "BLOCK THE CONTENT THAT GIVES YOU THE ICK WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING AT ALL"!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT !?!?!? ITS ALL YOURS all YOU have to do is click 2 buttons! It's sooooo much easier, pain free, and mental and emotionally freeing to just do that instead of typing out some horseshit post or ask and then dealing with everyone on your ass! The added bonus of nobody being on your ass! Did I mention the great feeling you have about not seeing that content anymore! AND as a special thank, we're offering "guilt free conscious" just especially for you! So you can go about your day not thinking about it anymore! No muss no fuss. It's easy!

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novaursa · 2 days ago

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Hello, Novaursa.

Would it be possible to write a story where Stark reader escorts Theon back to the Iron Islands and Theon, who's been a obsessed with her since childhood (maybe she was nice to him or something?), decides to try to force her into becoming his salt wife. He's not actually planning on taking a rock wife since he doesn't actually want anyone else, but she's not ironborn so by their laws, she can only be considered a salt wife?

Theon's uncle, Aeron, officiates the wedding while Baelon witnesses the event, kind of smug that his family is now getting revenge on House Stark.

Before all this, reader knew that Theon is at least a little attracted to her. She's seen his eyes on her on and off over the years, but she always thought it was a shallow joke of his so she doesn't know how deep his attraction really goes. When he betrays her, she's caught so horribly off guard. He was her friend/adopted brother, but he's betraying her and her family now. It's like a loop stuck in her head that leaves her in denial ("you wouldn't do this...").

When they consummate, Theon is already thinking of his need for heirs and trying for them from the first moment he touches her.

He succeeds.

Maybe he takes her with him when he overthrows Winterfell? Maybe Robb's reaction to the news somewhere in the story?

Cut whatever you need to if it gets too long.

Thank you!

No worries if you're not interested or I'm not being clear enough. Love your stories :)

The Iron Price

- Summary: You agree to escort your childhood friend back home and you pay the iron price for it.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Theon Greyjoy

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial

- A/N: I hope you like it, dear anon. ❤️

The sea air still clings to your skin, salt drying in patches where your tears once were. You feel raw. Inside out. The cavernous hall of Pyke has grown dark now, the torches burning low and flickering as the tide pounds against the cliffs outside. You sit on the edge of the bed in his father’s ancient chambers—the ones Theon insisted be made ready. A wedding night suite, he called it, as though this were anything but a bitter mockery of the word. The salt still crusts in your hair where Aeron Greyjoy, with his long unblinking stares and wet ropes wound tight around his arms, had anointed you during the ceremony. His voice echoed with the grim cadence of ritual, chanting to the Drowned God as if some holy thing were taking place. “What is dead may never die,” he said. And Baelon, seated upon the Driftwood Throne like a ghoul come to life, had looked on with thin-lipped satisfaction, arms folded as though this were only the first move in a long-plotted game.

You remember Theon gripping your wrists, hard enough to leave bruises beneath your sleeves, dragging you to kneel beside him before the priest. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll thank me someday,” he muttered under his breath, low enough only for you to hear. “This is the safest place for you now.”

You didn’t speak then. Couldn’t. Your voice had gone somewhere unreachable after he told you what he meant to do, when he brought you here under the pretense of returning home, of honoring Ned’s memory, of seeking peace. You'd believed him—because he'd been your friend. Because you had watched him grow up beside your brothers, shared quiet mornings with him at the practice yard, once let him warm your hands with his in the snow. He used to look at you like a boy starving for affection, eyes sliding over your face like he was trying to memorize you. And gods, you'd seen it—the way he watched you. That sly grin, the careless flirtation that never seemed to stick, the way he’d wink and joke and say things like “If I were a true Stark, I’d marry you first.” You never took it seriously. Not until the moment he asked Aeron to bind your hands together with the salt-soaked cords, while you trembled in a gown you didn’t remember putting on.

“You wouldn’t do this…” you’d said once—pleaded, really. As he shut the door to the priest’s chamber, as you stared at him with disbelief twisting your gut. “Theon, you wouldn’t—this isn’t you.”

But it was. And it is.

Now he stands at the door of the chamber, freshly bathed, hair still damp and smelling of salt and oil, and he looks at you like you’re the prize he finally snatched off a board he never thought he’d win on. He shuts the door behind him softly, as though you’re lovers sharing something sacred.

"You’re beautiful in grey," he says, voice warm but strange, reaching for something familiar that isn’t there anymore. "Even now. Especially now." He steps closer, slowly, letting his eyes drag over your shape like he’s memorizing the fact that you’re here. That you’re his.

“Don’t,” you whisper, your voice hollow. “Don’t pretend this is something it isn’t.”

He pauses only for a second, then shrugs. “What should I call it, then? Vengeance? A reward? I've wanted you since I was a boy. Since the day you handed me your cloak at Winterfell when I was shivering in the snow. Do you remember that? No one else cared. Not Robb, not Jon. But you... you looked at me like I wasn’t a hostage.”

You do remember. You were no more than six. You’d offered it thoughtlessly, and he’d clung to that gesture for years like it was proof of something greater.

"Theon," you breathe, shaking your head. "Please—this isn’t the way."

His face hardens. “It’s the only way I could have you. Would you have ever looked at me the way you look at Robb or Jon? With honor?” He laughs bitterly, stepping between your knees and tilting your chin up. "You always thought I was playing, didn’t you? All those little looks—didn’t think I meant it. But I did. Every time."

You try to turn away, but he holds you firm, his fingers tightening like a vice. You can see it in his eyes now. The obsession. It burns low and steady, no longer masked by jest or youthful charm. He means to have you—not just tonight, not just for this twisted show of power—but always.

“I want children,” he says suddenly, his voice dropping lower. “Trueborn ones. Not bastards and whoresons. Sons with your blood and mine. That’s why you’re here. I need you whole. I need you to give them to me.”

Your stomach turns. You recoil, but he’s already pressing forward, already running his hands down your arms, over the fine, sea-damp fabric of the dress that had been chosen for you without your consent. “No one will ever take you from me again,” he mutters against your neck as he pushes you back onto the bed. “Not the Starks. Not anyone.”

You slap him, hard, before his mouth can touch yours. “I hate you,” you hiss. “You were my friend—my brother. And you’ve ruined everything.”

He only smiles, breathing hard as his hand comes to your cheek—not to strike you back, but to cradle it, almost gently. “Maybe I’ll make you love me again,” he says. “Maybe one day, you’ll look at me the way you used to. Before you forgot who I was.”

And then he kisses you, not like a man who’s won love but one who’s seized it, and you understand fully now—Theon Greyjoy never stopped being that cold, lonely boy in the snow. He just learned how to make people pay for not loving him.

The war camp smells of smoke and sweat, of damp leather and steel and pine. Eight moons of bloodshed have carved hard lines into Robb’s face, maturing him faster than grief alone ever could. His auburn hair has grown longer, curling damply against his collar, and he wears his father’s sword like a mantle of iron. The command tent is quiet save for the scrape of a whetstone and the soft rustling of parchment. Grey Wind paces outside, restless, sensing his master’s unease before the storm ever breaks.

It comes in the form of a raven. Black wings against grey skies, clawing at the canvas with more urgency than most. The Maester barely has time to hand the scroll to Robb before the young king tears it open with war-hardened fingers. His blue eyes scan the page, and then—still. Just for a breath. Then the parchment crumples in his hand.

“He’s taken Winterfell,” Robb says flatly. For a heartbeat, none of the lords assembled respond. It doesn’t make sense. Theon Greyjoy—the boy who used to smile too wide and brag about conquests he never earned. Theon, who had once been like a brother. “He used our banners to get close. Brought his men into the gates by night and turned on them.”

Roose Bolton lifts his head, cold and calm. “Greyjoy? The kraken boy? How many men?”

“No more than thirty,” Robb replies, his voice like flint against steel. “But it was enough. He knows the layout. He knew how to take it.”

“He means to hold it?” asks Greatjon Umber with a scowl. “He won’t keep it. The North remembers.”

Robb doesn’t answer at first. He reads again—not the declaration of war, not the details of the attack. But that part. The one that sinks into his chest like icewater.

“As salt wife of House Greyjoy, she belongs to the Drowned God now, bound by sea and salt, and carries the blood of wolf and kraken both. Through our union, I lay rightful claim to Winterfell, as father of the babe she bears and master of her heart.”

Robb slams his fist into the wooden table. The ink pots jump, a cup of mead spills. Grey Wind snarls outside.

“She would never—” He chokes on the words. “He took her. You all know he took her. She went with him under my banner. She thought she was escorting a brother home. And now—”

“Your sister carries his child?” Lord Karstark asks carefully, almost in disbelief. “By force?”

“She was his prisoner,” Robb growls. “Whatever vows he forced from her, they mean nothing. He wears them like armor now, calling it a marriage, calling it right.”

“He means to use her womb like a crown,” says Lady Mormont darkly. “Breed the North into his own bloodline.”

A silence settles. Uneasy. Heavy. Robb stares down at the letter again, every word an insult carved with careful ink. Salt wife. As if that’s all she is now. A kept creature, owned by the sea, made docile by saltwater and grief. And yet… Robb can’t stop the images that flood him. You, walking into Pyke unaware. You, whispering in the raven messages he hasn’t seen in moons. What you must have suffered. What you still suffer now.

“I will bring her home,” Robb says, voice low and resolute. “I will raze every stone of Pyke if I must. I don’t care if he’s gotten her with child—I’ll take her back. And I’ll kill him for what he’s done.”

“We should march at once,” Greatjon growls, standing. “No kraken bastard will ever rule Winterfell, not while breath lives in any man loyal to the wolf.”

Roose Bolton's voice cuts through the rising fervor. “He’s clever. He knows this insult will draw your wrath. He wants you to march south—or east. He wants you pulled from your campaign. The Lannisters will use it.”

Robb’s jaw tightens. His hand curls around the hilt of his sword. “Let them try. Let everyone try. If Theon Greyjoy believes he can take my home, my kin, my blood, and raise his sigil above Winterfell, then he is not only a traitor—he is a dead man walking.”

He looks up, fire behind his eyes. “Prepare the ravens. I want every bannerman loyal to the Starks ready to march within the fortnight. If Theon Greyjoy wants to sit my father’s seat, he can wait there until I rip him off it myself.”

#game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #house of the dragon #got #got/asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #got x y/n #got x you #got x reader #house stark #house greyjoy #theon greyjoy #got theon #theon x reader #theon x you #theon x y/n #x reader

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bluejayblueskies · 2 days ago

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Do you have JayVik fics you'd recommend? 💙

i do!! i'll include a general link to my jayvik bookmarks first, for a broader list of fics i've enjoyed

and then for specific fics! under a cut as this got long

Four Million Miles from Here | LiteralWho | E, complete

Viktor asks: “What is it, Jayce?” Briefly, Viktor expects he will receive an answer. Jayce looks at his wrist, then at him; but he smiles, weakly, and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” He now knows it is safe to say so. He pushes to his feet and touches Viktor’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside.” In these moments, Viktor cannot refuse him. He follows Jayce, watches him retreat into the bedroom. Jayce wished for his partner back, but something else came with him. It cannot be seen, but it can be felt: the round, repellant force between two magnets. Too much has been revealed. Too little is known. This imbalance has manifested itself into a barrier, into a tangle, yet it is too tightly wound to be safely unraveled. It sits between them like a ghost; this entity, this unspoken thing. . The rune swallows them up, and abandons them in an unfamiliar land. Is this not what they wanted? With naught but the clothes on their backs, they are left to wander. To wonder.

one of my favorite post-canon fics! it's got a really excellent ambiguous quality to it, and the prose is gorgeous

Capgras | wifidelis (@wi-fidelis) | M, in progress

Jayce and Viktor are hurled out of the anomaly and dropped into the field where it all began. While it seems like the opportunity for a fresh start, Jayce's health rapidly begins to decline. In a desperate bid to save his partner, Viktor makes a series of shocking discoveries about Jayce's body and mental state... leading Viktor to believe that *his* Jayce is not what emerged from the Arcane with him. Jayce, struggling with the effects of the Arcane on his mental state, also begins to wonder if he is himself anymore.

another favorite post-canon fic! so few post-canon fics have a focus on jayce whump, and this fic is a tasty and excellent example of it

it’s hard being (at) the bottom. | lambchopsandmashedpotatoes | E, complete

Down in the chasm, an iridescent creature disassembles Jayce so that he can put himself back together in the morning. It keeps them both sane, in a way. Or; Jayce is losing his mind. Viktor is happy to hold it for him.

this is a porn-with-some-plot missing-scene from jayce's time in the fissure. fics from this time period never fail to make me chomp, as they're always a good source of whump and angst, and i like the combination in this one of "slow descent to madness" and eroticism

I've Been Thinking of All the Little Things That You've Been Missing | FourOddApples | E, complete

“Just a note. If someone is in love with you and you don’t want them, the kind fucking thing to do is to let them go.” -- Or: Viktor takes a chance that Jayce doesn’t know what to do with. Things are different after that, and slowly but surely Jayce begins to second-guess his response.

i love a good "character A thinks character B doesn't reciprocate and withdraws accordingly," and this has a splash of that, a splash of bi-awakening jayce, and a splash of excellent smut

healing and treating | weatheredlaw (@weatheredlaw) | E, complete

Jayce and Viktor are some of Piltover’s most brilliant physicians. They’re also divorced and it’s everyone’s problem.

this is a series of two fics in an AU where jayce and viktor are, as it says above, physicians who work in the same hospital who are divorced. it's got some nice disabled jayce in addition to, of course, disabled viktor, and the exes-to-lovers arc is satisfying

Monuments | begaydocrimes10001 (@canyounotexistelias) | T, complete

Friends make friends stuff all the time, and Jayce did break Viktor's cane. It'd be a nice thing to do. A cane, plus some cool tools, and Jayce will be able to know he's a good friend. He likes this plan. (Or, Jayce makes a new cane for Viktor. He then makes some more stuff. It spirals from there very, very quickly.)

this is one of the more lighthearted fics on this list, and i like it because i'm a big fan of wife guy jayce talis showering his beloved with gifts and accidentally saving the world at the same time

advanced practical physics (the laws of attraction apply) | Sinister_Queer | E, complete

Jayce has five months left until he finishes his undergraduate degree. Five months until he could start his real life, until he could start doing what he wanted. The only thing standing in his way is one group project and the partner he'd slept with two nights ago. (Jayce and Viktor have a one night stand, then end up as group project buddies.)

there's a lot of university AUs out there, and this is my favorite one. i'm always a bit shaky about misunderstandings in fics, but i enjoyed this one--poor jayce is trying his best with the information he has on hand 😂

disjunction | Nanashi07 | M, complete

Six years after he and Viktor part ways on antagonistic terms, Jayce wakes up in the Machine Herald’s medical clinic. . Jayce desperately wants to rub at his forehead, but the binding at his wrist stops him. He settles for squeezing his eyes shut. “Why?” he asks. Viktor is silent for barely a moment. He says, tonelessly, “I assumed this was preferable to dying.”

i've read a few of this genre of post-s1 fic that diverge from s2, and i'm a big fan of this one. i really like how our perspective of what's happening changes as jayce finds out more information, and i am forever besotted with viktor's little robot helpers

High Hawk Season | JeanLuciferGohard | T, complete

Three weeks, and the south-facing side of his apartment is still missing, and they won’t even let him sleep there with a tarp tacked over it, because the ‘structure of the building was compromised’ and it’s ‘not fit for habitation’, as if student housing, even student housing on the Kiramann’s dime, ever had any claim on habitability in the fucking first place. “I've been sleeping at the lab, Viktor.” (which he probably would’ve done anyway, but it’s matter of principle–it’s–okay, it’s fundamental question of free will and fair housing practices and not having to live with his mother, who publicly called him a lunatic) Sometimes, you are a genius, and a sizable explosion knocks out most of your living space, and you end up living with your research partner, and it's only weird if you make it weird.

this fic is recced by everyone and god, but for good reason. i adore the characterization of viktor in here, and if you're looking for something that doesn't go super hard on the jayvik romance, this will scratch that itch

i have a few more recs, separate from the others as they contain topics that are more likely to squick people. feel free to take or leave these as you desire!

a new promise | disembarks (@dis-embarks) | T, complete

CW: Major Character Death

“Did you do it?” he asks it like he doesn’t truly want to know. Jayce cannot lie to him. “Yes,” he murmurs. “It’s gone.” I killed it. And you. . Jayce destroys the Hexcore.

this fic made me cry, and thus i am recommending it to you and everyone i know 😂 i'm obsessed especially with the themes of regret and impermanence in this

The Glorious Epilogue | saltslimes (@saltslimes) | E, complete

CW: Mpreg, body horror (these two tags are related)

The rune spits Jayce out on hard rock. It’s dry and dusty under his hands and when he blinks awake, face-down, clothing soaked, alive against all odds, he actually can’t draw a breath. A drop of water hits his face. And then another. It’s raining, and he doesn’t know where he is, but he’s back in the fissure, he’s certain of it. A cruel ending for a wasted life. Jayce Talis, the Man of Progress, who thought at every turn he had the right idea, and failed in every way that ever mattered. - Thrown across the continent, but painfully alive, Jayce struggles to keep Viktor from falling into mental ruin, and himself from keeling over. He can still hold a hammer, so he does what he's always done: cling to hope, however foolish it may be.

this is another favorite post-canon fic. i love the little town jayce and viktor end up in, and i love how both of them struggle to adapt in their own ways. the pregnancy aspect is related to the effects of the very end of s2, where jayce and viktor are together in the arcane, and i think it's fun and also a little bit horrifying (positive)

a bird flies into a mirror | zbz | M, complete

CW: Rape/Non-Con

Viktor struggles to recover from a violent sexual assault. Jayce refuses to let him fight alone.

this fic is a tough read emotionally, but i think it's worth it. it really leans into the class politics at play in piltover, as well as being a well-done bit of viktor whump. as an additional warning, the first chapter has some explicit on-screen rape that is interrupted partway through.

#ask #anonymoussong #arcane #fic rec list #ty for the ask tony!! i have so many jayvik fics on my to-read list as well #i'd been working through the ao3 tag from the top down sorting by most bookmarked #and then i switched recently to looking up specific tags i like #so hopefully this is a good variety!

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