#the others still have more similarities than differences but then there’s THOSE TWO

[jeons-catalyst]

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifulpersonpeach/750046574180220928/hey-peach-i-dont-know-if-you-are-up-for-this?source=share

I saw this few days ago and i agree with them on high level except a thing or two and since i have the similar question i wanna ask you how you see it.

The answer from BPP is funny for giggles now let's be practical and say they're not together have never been so how does it explains those actions? I have noticed this too that while hugging jm it's never like full body but i have seen him hug hobi, jin more proper than jm. With jm the hug last for like a 2 sec that too with just a pat or two in the back but i have seen him hugging jin whole bodily like engulfing hug multiple times. Whenever jm come close to jk many of the times jk tries to retrack and there's like mant such moments so one can't say it's a thing of "maybe he wasn't feeling in at that time, or wasn't in the mood " etc. Maybe there's many moments like these because jm usually gets close to jk more than others.

This is just an observation tho hence I'm asking. And yes I'm aware that he does backtrack with others too but it's like wayyy less compared to jm like jm just had to start walking towards jk and you will see jk already trying to bactrack which is not usual with others. I never got any valid answer for this. Idk if you'll entertain this question but if you have time I'd love to know your thoughts. Thank you..

Hi anon!

To be very honest with you, i didn’t quite understand this aspect of Jikook’s dynamic when i just started seeing them as more. I had spoken about this before and i mentioned that, this was one of the things that convinced me more than anything else that jikook were probably more than friends.

The thing is, we know that when they were rookies, Jikook would put blankets outside their rooms and sleep together on the floor outside. Jimin mentioned that Jungkook hugs him to sleep and Jk got so flustered when Jimin said that at the fan sign. Compare this to when Jin mentioned at at interview that he plays with Jk’s nipples to wake him up from sleep. Jk definitely didn’t have a flustered reaction when Jin said that. We know from the members and Jikook themselves that Jikook are the two who like spending their nights together the most. Jk would pile clothes on his bed and go sleep in Jimin’s bed. When Jihope were roomies, the complained about Jk coming into their room every night to sleep. Jimin mentioned how much Jk visited his hotel room while they were in LA. The point of me writing all this is to show that, Jk still likes going around Jimin when he isn’t required to and he likes being with Jimin at odd hours of the night. Spending nights with him or just spending time with him. Nobody put a g*n to his head and asked him to spend all this time with Jimin right?

Another thing is that Jk initiates touches with Jimin. He likes to hover around him, put his arms around him, and sometimes even touches him in ways that some people might interpret differently.

This is Jk voluntarily going to sleep beside Jimin. He tried waking him up and when he didn’t succeed, he slept by his side

This is Jk going to lean on Jimin who was just there minding his business hugging Hobi. Jk actually moved Hobi and then went to hug jimin and lean on him.

This is Jk hovering around Jimin and then going to touch him before there was a cut and then proceeded to massage his shoulders

We all know what happened on this day so no need to repeat it

This is jungkook being sneaky and finding his way to stand close to jimin. Mind you no one asked him to or forced him to.

This is a small compilation of Jungkook going to hug a sleeping Jimin or go to touch him when Jimin is just there minding his business.

Here, Jungkook felt bad about his performance and wanted comfort. He could have sat anywhere else but he choose to go squeeze himself in the small corner close to Jimin.

Here, we thought he was whispering to Jimin but it turns out he just wanted to rub his cheeks against Jimin’s.

Here, Jimin was minding his business looking at the pictures or videos they just took and there is Jungkook coming to slip his hands into Jimin’s shirt to caress bare skin.

Here he is pulling Jimin closer to him.

Here he is acting like Jimin’s bodyguard

Here he is playing tricks to move Tae and then immediately running to sit close to Jimin

Jk almost couldn’t keep from touching Jimin through out this Live.

These are a few examples of Jk initiating touch or hovering around Jimin or trying to be closer to him.

You asked how we could explain all these if jikook are not together and have never been together. To me, the only way to explain this is that Jungkook doesn’t like being touched by Jimin or doesn’t like Jimin at all. Because like you said, he doesn’t act like that with the other members cuz if he did, then we could have concluded that he just has his moments when he doesn’t want anyone touching him or coming close to him but we don’t see him do this with anyone as much as he does with Jimin. I would have concluded that he doesn’t like being touched by Jimin or just doesn’t like him very much but we all know that if you hate someone touching you, you don’t initiate touches with them, you don’t try to be near them at all especially when you know they could touch you, and you certainly don’t ever put urself in positions that could allow for excess physical touch like going to sleep in their beds or going to visit them in their hotel rooms at 1am at night. You just don’t do that, yet Jungkook does all these. So how else do you explain this?

I know that Jimin could be intense with his skinship sometimes and will definitely understand if jk just isn’t in the mood sometimes but like you said, sometimes all Jimin does is to put his arms around him, something which is pretty normal and you see Jk looking really uneasy. Sometimes he sees Jimin coming towards his direction and he legit starts to move away. Why?

The only thing imo that explains this behaviour is that he acts like that because he has something to hide with Jimin. The other members can touch him as much as they like or even use him as personal pillows or beds and he wouldn’t react because those touches are innocent. He has nothing to hide with them so he isn’t overthinking or worrying about giving too much away.

When you have skeletons in your cupboard, you are always guilty. I feel like Jk acts that way because he panicks. He probably knows jimin’s touches mean more and he worries about people catching on. Imagine yourself as a thief, you naturally panic every single time you see a police or hear police sirens because you have something to hide so whether it concerns you or not, you worry that it might be about you.

One of the most telling aspects about whatever relationship jikook have with each other is the sheer panic and hesitance you see or feel in their interactions sometimes.

We know that Jk doesn’t hate Jimin. He wouldn’t do everything he has done over the past decade if he hated him. We also know that Jk likes touching jimin, likes sleeping by his side, like being around him, like hovering around him, so we cannot say he hates being touched by Jimin. We also have instances where we have “caught” them when they weren’t aware of the cameras and Jk had no issues being in Jimin’s personal space or with Jimin being in his. Moments like the Car selfie, and Jikook at Jhope’s JITB party immediately come to mind.

Car selfie

JITB PARTY

What these two moments have in common is that jikook were not expecting cameras. We were able to see how they are with each other when there are no cameras or watching eyes, and how they behaved immediately they noticed the cameras. In the car selfie moment you could see that Jimin looked a little flustered but laughed it off and started over explaining lol. Jungkook didn’t even notice the camera at first because he was busy looking at Jimin and when Jimin kinda shrugged him off and he noticed, you could see him almost hyperventilating. Why? They were just taking a selfir so why the panic? With the JITB moment, they were standing in a corner alone, very close to each other with Jk’s hand on Jimin’s. Immediately they noticed the camera, Jk quickly moved away from Jimin and Jimin couldn’t even look at the camera. Why the panic if they were not doing anything wrong?

So anon, i really wouldn’t be able to explain Jk’s behaviour if it turns out him and Jimin were never a thing because no matter how much i think about it, i just cannot find another explanation.

If anyone has a different explanation, i would very much like to hear it because maybe there is something i am missing.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #i took me so long to type this with this nails ugh #sorry if there are typos😭

[sleeplesssmoll]

The biggest difference between Vertin and Bessmert: Blood lust

Since the similarities between Bessmert and Vertin are clear, I thought I'd point out an interesting difference between the two.

While both of them have conciliatory natures, the way they respond to conflict is different.

Bessmert responds with anxiousness and sadness when her group turns against her. We see this when Yeni is abducted too. She does her best to stay calm, and she's great at it, but we as players see her panic at moments in the game. For example, she nearly ran into the river which would have turned her into a horse! Her emotions bleed through more easily.

Do you remember when Sonetto was taken away on the island? After Vertin and Arcana were given the bracelets, it was Vertin who triggered it, burning them both. Arcana was amused by her murderous intent. She told Arcana she'd beat her up before too. She also apologizes to people when negotiations break down and beats their ass without hesitation. She's more like the "Oh well, can't be helped" type and throws hands. If you can't be reasoned with, she'll try another route.

On the other hand, Bessmert will still try to negotiate with people who are beyond that point. Honestly, Yeni's protectiveness is enough for the both of them, so it works out. Bessmert gives of a "softer" feeling than Vertin, despite their similarities. Vertin is very gentle but she has an "edge" to her as well. Another example, she beat up those brats (literal children) messing with her beloved Suitcase in the beginning of the game.

This latent ferocity only comes to light when I compare Vertin to Bessmert. Until now, she was on par with the other Arcanists (aside from Ezra who is just a sweet little mushroom) in terms of "Don't make me kick your ass" energy.

She's just more polite about it.

Bessmert is like a capybara. This needs no explanation. It's a vibe. Giant guinea pig with extra sweetness.

Vertin is like a cat. Cuddly, but not afraid to use its claws and teeth to make a point. A cat that's also willing to fight things a lot bigger than it.

#reverse 1999 #vertin #bessmert #while arcana is an extreme example #i think we've seen enough interactions to have a rough idea of their responses

[meadowlarkx]

Body and Spirit

Fic/Elven food writing on pregnancy for @tolkienekphrasisweek day 2: Culinary Arts, for the theme of "bread and roses." | AO3

From the writings of an unknown Elf-scholar of the First Age, found in the ruins of Vinyamar before Beleriand’s sinking; now housed in Rivendell.

Rightly has it been written that the bearing of children takes great share and strength of one’s being. It is the duty of each faithful spouse to attend their partner carefully in this time and wait upon their needs. So the proverbs run “thou worriest like a first-time father” and “when the husband’s belly is full, the wife’s hands are never empty.” And any healer will attest that food nourishes the spirit of parent and child both, if it is prepared correctly.

In days of old, parents could rest easier: it was peacetime, and labor was effortful but always painless. Dim eyes were soon brightened by the new child’s squalling, and child and bearer both were anointed with Laurelin’s dew and garlanded with Telperion’s blooms as safeguards against dark dreaming. It is true also that Yavanna and Oromë never let expecting parents go wanting, sending servants to each threshold with fruits of field, orchard, and wood that sated more than any other. If even then Míriel’s spirit was spent and spouses fretted, how much more do they fret now, and with better reason! Yet babes go on being born as if in spite of the shadow.

Our souls are fashioned such that the mind of one spouse draws very near to the mind of the other and each knows always (if things are aright) the contemplations of the other’s inmost heart, and this is to great advantage in childbearing just as it is in child-begetting. It makes easy and unburdensome those urgent cravings that may strike one with child. Indeed a husband often knows before his wife does what it is she wishes to eat or drink, and the best spouses are ever at the elbow of their partner with this or that delicacy. My own wife once had such a wish for pickled radishes that our garden’s were finished in one Mingling, and all of the neighbors made gifts of theirs for our kitchen.

Of these desires some say that they foretell the tastes of the babe when it is grown, and others divine in them the babe’s impatience, laughter, worry, and so on. I will not here offer a full enumeration, for it seems to me each family speaks differently, and every parent is their own loremaster in this matter.

A few more words on the subject. Many have found certain cordials and tisanes soothing and strengthening for the spirit strained with child. A honeyed elderflower infusion refreshes the body, especially when chilled with ice. Dried mint, thyme, and ginger root steeped in hot water ease discomfort, and the fragrant steam brightens the spirit. As winters here bite so deeply, this last may be of most use. 

Begettings are most frequent in the Spring and thus Elves are often in childbed come Spring again. So I have striven to mark a calendar of the seasons, as well as those dishes once or now customary to be served for the health and joyful greeting of a new-growing babe and to honor and sustain the one with child. Though much is scarce, and certain plants cannot be found, new children are rare in these lands and the bearing of them is a hard thing, and a brave one. I ask readers to use every store at their disposal to make it easy and happy. Where one thing cannot be found, another of similar savor can be used in its stead.

Spring (begetting)

It is still a tradition among our people to celebrate with feasting when the child’s spirit is first felt, even if, as it may be now, only the wedded pair themselves are at the table. Sweet and savory dumplings are usually the centerpiece of this dinner. A simple dough of flour and water or egg will suffice to wrap them. Soft cheese well-salted and herbed with chopped ramp, garlic scapes, and violet leaves makes a good filling in this season. Preserved fruits and jams will suit as well.

Two things are essential in such a feast: a bowl of rich broth (each prepares it differently), to nourish the child, and a small dish of honey infused with violets, to welcome it with sweetness. Both are for the bearer of the child to drink entirely, or among the Sindar and Teleri, to be passed between both parents to the raucous encouragement of their family and friends. It is a remarkable and auspicious thing that the Elves of Middle-earth drink broth and honey to mark the time of begetting as we did in the West. Perhaps this has been our way since the days of the first awakening, though to uncover the truth of it would demand a keener mind than mine.

Summer

Summer is a time for sweets as the babe grows. The moment of quickening often occurs in late summer and may be celebrated as well. The following is the method for a cake preferred by the Vanyar that has since become popular among our people: Mix a light batter of flour, butter, egg, milk, and honey, perfumed with a spoonful of orange blossom water or rosewater, and some of the peel of a lemon; pour it into small round baking dishes that have been well oiled. Into each dish of batter, press the cut slices of exactly one peach or plum, arranged in a round to resemble the whole. (Persimmon and guava were also favored in Tirion, an you find them.) Bake in a quick oven until fragrant and golden, then cool and turn out. Scatter the tops of the cakes with rose petals.

Some among the Vanyar make a version of this sweet with a heavier dough, pressed thin and swaddled about whole fruits which are then baked so assembled. In both methods, the cakes, or depending upon whom you ask, the round fruits therein, are said to show the size of the babe at midsummer.

Autumn

The foods preferred in autumn during childbearing honor Elf and child while lending strength for the coming winter. One preparation that is very savory is to set a partridge or game hen in an artfully arranged “nest” of carrots, parsnips, slivers of apple and wild onion stalks, whichever of these are to hand, and to roast them all together until tender and browned so that the vegetables take in the bird’s juices. A lighter but very popular delicacy is that of strips of very thin dough twined into the shapes of nests or cradles. They are then filled with a mixture of stewed figs and blackberries, spiced with cardamom. The time spent upon winding such small baskets makes this task one best and most joyful shared among many hands with laughter and singing. It is ill fortune, however, if the Elf bearing the babe lays hand to such work, which ought to be done instead on their behalf.

Winter

Anyone will tell you that several foods for pregnant Elves are ever insisted upon by relatives and spouses in the cold of winter, and all the more in this land where cold numbs and freezes. One must be especially careful during this time. Yet some dishes are held to be particularly lucky or healthful. One adopted from the Falathrim is a clear stew of white fish and pickled salted greens, flecked with barley: it is oft prescribed and thought to ensure a good flow of milk after the birth, especially when tender crab’s meat is added. A porridge of as many different seeds as can be found (poppyseed, wheatberry, buckwheat, oat, walnut, and hazelnut are favorites) brings a life of plenty to the couple and the future babe. It is typically flavored with dried fruits and orange rind, and sweetened with honey.

In the past, the most devoted spouses sought fresh snows from the heights of holy Taniquetil to mix with cream, sugar, and vanilla seed. Such a simple iced confection is thought especially delectable for Elves bearing children, as it refreshes a strained body and delights the spirit. Here the winter season affords the best opportunity both to make and to relish it.

Spring (childbed)

Just as violet-steeped honey is drunk to celebrate conception, so it is again upon the table as the span of a year draws to a close and the time of childbed approaches. A draught of such honey stirred into clear springwater with crushed thyme is drunk by the Elf nearing childbed to make labor sweeter—all the more needful now that it brings such pain. Many favor also a round leavened bread of red winter wheat studded with seeds, said to be more strength-giving in the short term than lembas, and good for weariness before and after childbirth.

All must attentively wait upon the Elf who has recently undergone the trial of childbirth, providing comfort and celebration. A sweet soup of cloudy sea moss, dried fruit, and boiled dumplings filled with chopped nuts is customarily prepared by the family and specially offered to the Elf recovering abed. It is delicate and soothing to the stomach and marks something of the sweetness of this most joyous of times—before the great feasts of the child’s naming.

_____

Endnotes on AO3; say hi if you like!

#tolkienekphrasisweek #noldor #silmarillion #silm #silm fic #beleriand #silmarillion fic #the silmarillion #my fic #thank you for running such a fun and unique event!!

[chipmunkweirdo]

The most interesting thing about writing the 80s Chipmunks with the Alvinnn munks/My AU munks is that their similarities and differences really shine through.

I have noticed that even traits they share, they don’t share in the same intensity.

Anyway, if I absolutely HAD to describe each one in only a few words, (a near impossible task) this is how I would classify them.

It’s hard to describe them in a few words each but if I had to it would be….

80s Simon— Sarcastic, intellectual voice of reason

2015 Simon— Cocky, sleep deprived genius

80s Alvin— Born Showman and Entrepreneur

2015 Alvin—Ambitious, Anxious (closeted) Geeknerd

Alvin 2.0–The same, but no longer closeted

80s Theodore-Helpful sweetheart and chef

2015 Theodore-Food enthusiast, family therapist and goofball

80s Eleanor- Soccer playing Team Mom

2015 Eleanor—Sassy, Chaotic hellraiser

80s Brittany—Dramatic, Self assured Diva

2015 Brittany—Bratty, well meaning Perfectionist

80s Jeanette-Intelligent, Clumsy Bookworm

2015 Jeanette-Imaginative, Weirdo Environmentalist

Fascinating, isn’t it? How the same characters could have such variation in characterization to the point where you’d describe each version of them differently.

#alvin and the chipmunks #alvin seville #simon seville #brittany miller #jeanette miller #eleanor miller #theodore seville #aatc #alvinnn!!! and the chipmunks #the chipettes #comparison #contrast #80s chipmunks #80s Alvin and the Chipmunks #characters #personality #changes #differences #something I noticed #Eleanor and Alvin have it the worst #the others still have more similarities than differences but then there’s THOSE TWO #And no version is better than the other #they’re just different people growing up in different generations

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

#rat rambles #oni posting #let it be known that the second we have any sort of base of scientist ari's character and job Im going to go buck wild #I'm not even the biggest ari fan but idk I've been thinking a lot abt them lately #not anything concrete for obvious reasons but still they have so much potential #like tbh I wouldnt be surprised if theyre already technically in the logs as one of the randos I know theyre klei's second favorite child #I say second favorite because we all know meep is the favorite #anyways I hope ari does smth mildly fucked up when they do inevitably become relevant I think thatd be fun #or maybe theyll just be another artifact namedrop and never be mentioned again but I doubt it #you see meep is a man of few words he only needs to be implied through one email to leave his mark #ari needs to do smth a bit fucked up and then not elaborate I think thats the most fun ari play #as in I think itd be funny if they were like involved in smth super important but it's only briefly implied in a log where theyre talking #abt smth irrelevant and unrelated #my vote is them either being involved in the employee kidnapping or being involved in the dna stealing #yknow we still dont know who the duo in bioengineering that was mentioned once are #the only potential duo I can think of would be maybe liam and ada but idk if theyd be involved in that specifically #I think they very well could have been tho and it would be kinda fun #plus it'd give us more insight as to who could hypothetically be in the know abt the inner workings of the duplicant project #because that would mean that the plant guy could also be in the know #as in it would draw the critter and plant bioengineering ppl closer to the actual duplicant stuff itself #which would make some sense for them to be aware of the dupes but the extent of that knowledge is a question that remains #but yeah other than those two I can't rly think of any duos that are both in bioengineering #like liam isnt comfirmed but he also isnt explicitly in a different department so hes still an option #banhi and bubbles cant be it since banhi is in robotics #and every other duo falls into a similar situation or are just not in bioengineering at all #its probably not that relevant of a detail but I think its fun to speculate #but yeah Im excited to learn more abt all these guys in the future as long as it's not ellie she can explode (affectionate but still) #oh also no first hand nikola second hand nikola is fine tho #oh also I hope gossmann only gets a first initial I don't wanna know her first name #itd be so heartbreaking if they walked out and declared her full name was like tiffany gossmann or smth like that

[seosracha]

HEART DEFENDER──────

౨ৎ⸻niki x fem!reader

⸻ synopsis, Nishimura Riki was truly and honestly, your sworn enemy, and everyone knew. You two shared lots of things, a friend group, academic rivalry, and most importantly school popularity. Receiving tons of confessions and notes on the daily from your fanboys and fangirls was nothing new. So you can't help but be shocked when he asks you to be his fake girlfriend for that same reason.

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, highschool au

pairing: popular-footballplayer!niki x popular-fem!reader

wordcount: 11.5k !

tags: underage drinking, foul language/swearing, niki is an asshole, own characters included, y/n and niki are unrealistically popular but bare with me pls, jay is called a pervert😭, kissing

authors note! this was written for my beautiful babygirl , and it was also her idea so props to my pookie yall!!!😛 also no proof read so sorry for any errors!!

A GENTLE HEAT falls onto the silk bed sheets, as a flickering blue light washes over the room, a sound waking you up from the dreamy state. You still had a hard time settling into the new reality that eloped you just a few days back. The summer was over, and so we’re all the exciting things you hadn’t been able to do. 

Although you didn’t mind, it brought you comfort to keep your body and mind active. You don’t like to mull over the fact that something is over, because that never brought it back, choosing to focus on every minute that was yet to come. 

Maybe that was exactly the reason you’ve become so popular amongst the male population of Alpine High-school, students swooning over your exquisite beauty, tall, well proportioned figure and beautiful mind. Some looks were only hungry for popularity and full of lust, but amongst all, you also found people who truly wanted to know you, and find out what was underneath the pretty shell. 

Some would call it cliche, to only stick around people who held the same status as you, or shared a similar popularity rank, but you truly never intended for that. Having two of the most popular students in one team, automatically makes the entirety of the group more desirable and unattainable. You never had control over any of these things, but you’d also be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel even more special. 

Your phone vibrates, Song Eunseok’s name displayed on the screen, messages filling up your home screen every second. You smile lightly and press one of them to shoot him a quick reply, preventing him from spamming you with keyboard smashes. 

Song Eunseok was one of your best-friends. He was there when others weren’t, and he was always the one to help you endure any pain in life. He was like a bandaid, keeping you safe from any infectious disease but also helping ease the pain, even if it didn’t feel like it at first. The affection in his tone, his words glowing with secrecy and honesty every time he spoke to you, that’s exactly what made him so notable to your heart. 

Kim Hana was also one of those people to you. Eunseok was good to you, but he’d never be able to substitute for a girl best-friend. You never treated Hana as a second option though. She wasn’t even a month older than you, but wiser than most. Hana always knew what to say or do, she was like a compass to you. You knew you could never lose her, or else you wouldn’t know which direction to walk towards. Still, behind the smart and intellectual facade, was a joyful and bright girl, who had the most infectious laugh you knew. Her smile was adorable and words of affection- comforting. 

Park Sunghoon was also a member of your clique, recruited by Jake who swam alongside him on the school’s swimming team. You’ve never been really close to him, he was more of a friend to you when others were around. That didn’t mean you didn’t care for him though. Sunghoon was different, he was very secretive and smart. He didn’t ever try, but always succeeded. He wasn’t flashy about it either, keeping most of his success to himself. 

Jake, who recruited Sunghoon, used to be your best-friend. You grew up with him, just like in every childhood best-friends movie, the two of you did everything together. Just like you, he moved out of his home country in his early years, which was one of the many things you had in common and could empathize about. You decided to go to the same highschool, following the promise you made in 4th grade; that you’ll always stick together. The reciprocation brought you a feeling of comfort and safety, at first you didn’t mind when he started getting closer with Nishimura Riki because you trusted him. You trusted him enough, and turned a blind eye enough until your once best friend wasn’t yours anymore. 

You tried to ignore the low pain it gave you, small weebs formed in your mind as you tried to justify Jake’s behavior, arguing that he still speaks to you so kindly. You were still in the same group together, spending most of your days together and laughing sweetly at the smallest things. But instead of calling you, he’d call Niki, instead of hanging out with you on the weekends, he’d hang out with Niki and instead of inviting you as his plus one to events, he’d invite Niki. 

That’s exactly why you hated Nishimura Riki, the last member of the seemingly ‘popular kid’ clique you formed. 

Niki was equally attractive and popular as you. He embodied a typical, bookish bad-boy character, the smitten look on his face winning girls hearts over every time. He was also a member of the football team, already earning a full ride scholarship for his sports successes. He was already an intelligent boy, but a free entry to college was nothing he’d deny. He was vastly athletic, but always dreamed of going to university. Niki may not have looked the part, but he truly was much more ambitious than many would guess. 

He didn’t have many reasons to hate you, but the sole fact that you were unbeatable, the first rank in school always alongside your name. He always stood proudly next to you on class president election day, but always ended up getting hurt when once again, you were chosen. Everyone loved you and even though he had his fair share of fans, he could never compare. 

So the satisfaction that taking away your best-friend from you brought him, was enough to console his damaged pride. It was enough to compensate for his stolen spotlight. 

You both had reasons to hate each other, and never even considered talking it out, even if you shared a friend group. Passive aggressive comments, and sarcastic remarks were enough to satisfy yours and Niki’s mind. 

___________

Niki, with his fair share of popularity, couldn’t get away from constant love letters clogging up his locker, or girls' heartfelt love confessions. With the face of an angel and skills of a child prodigy, it was inevitable in some way. Those same girls were the reason for his incredibly and annoyingly large ego. 

“Niki!” the brunette caught his attention with her squeaky and high pitched voice. 

He turned around to catch a glimpse at her, only to find her with a pink glittery box in hand. Niki could sense another thought out, insanely touching confession coming his way. 

“Do I know you?” he asked, trying his best to not make a rude face at the girl. At the end of the day he was the it-boy at his high-school, and had an image to upkeep. 

“You could get to know me. We have chemistry together!” she replied happily, completely neglecting the fact that his reply itself was a bit rude to begin with. 

“Is that supposed to be some sort of pickup line?” Niki chuckled, running a hand through his hair as his shoulder fell to his right. He leaned on the lockers trying to remember the girl he was speaking to. 

She pulls at the fabric of his blazer, a frisky look on her face “It could be if you want it to be” 

He felt his body tensing up, a wave of uncomfort speeding through his veins. He was used to girls shoving themselves onto him, but why couldn’t he be viewed as an equal to them? Just because he has stolen many women's hearts, didn’t mean he didn’t want to be treated with dignity and respect. 

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as the unknown girl pushed her body closer and closer. His white shirt started to suffocate him, feeling the box she had in her hands press against his stomach. 

He could barely read the name Oh Jia off the girl's name tag, before backing away, making her stumble a little bit. 

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little too comfortable, Jia?” he asked. 

She took a deep breath. She thinks of the many nights she’d seen the boy infront of her standing proudly with a confident smile as he pulls her closer to his body. She is taken aback by the difference, wondering how she could've gotten so easily deceived by her own head to fall for such a fabricated version of Nishimura Riki, She had swooned over the cover, just like many girls before and after her. 

This was one of the many daily confessions the boy would receive. Some happened to be much more friendly and cute, even making Niki’s heart a little warmer. Some students just liked to test his limits, see how easy he can actually be. He hated that. He hated not being treated like a human being but rather a school attraction they all got to take turns trying out. 

Although you were sworn enemies, the similarity between yours and Niki’s experience love wise, was undeniable. 

“What is my pretty girl doing all alone? Where did all your friends go?” Hyunsik, a member of the student council, asked with a flirtatious tone stopping you from getting to your history class. 

“Yours?” you questioned with a calm voice, having an idea of who Hyunsik was. 

He smiled, wondering why you always played so hard to get. He was gorgeous, so what was your problem to just give into his warm embrace? 

“Don’t be like that” he answered, using his hand to push a strand of  loose hair behind your ear. 

You felt so incredibly uncomfortable. You had known Hyunsik for some time now, as the class president you did have to consult on important issues with him. 

“What do you mean, Hyunsik?” you asked, a wonky smile on your face as you tried to give the boy a sign that you weren't interested in him. 

“You know what I mean. C'mon Y/n, you don’t have to play so hard to get. We could have fun, I’d make you feel so good and happy” he confessed, his stance radiating confidence which was unbreakable. 

He was attractive, but his personality and ego completely erased any chances of scoring a date with you or many other girls. 

“I’m interested in someone else” you answered, backing away from him. 

“You always say that, yet you're still single” he said, offended by your relectuance. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business though, Hyunsik. I have to go now” you said, not letting him say anything else. 

This wasn't the first time boy’s just assumed you’d be easy like that. Just like Niki, you hated it. You didn't mind the confessions, as long as they were kept cute and respectful. You hated being mean, and these situations just forced it out of you. 

__________ 

“Why don’t we call Minjun over here, you’ve been hanging out with him a lot, right?” Hana asked, turning to you. She shuffles to grab her phone, but you stop her. 

Niki rolled his eyes at her words, not in the mood to stubbornly try to keep a civil conversation with Minjun. Kim Minjun was a member of the football team, and the number two placeholder in school. He really was handsome- slim face and a defined jawline, dark thick hair, eyebrows not touched once but seemingly shaped by Aphrodite herself, captivating siren eyes that made you fear eye contact, and lastly plump cherry lips. You could go on about Minjun’s beauty for days and not get bored of the topic. 

He notoriously fought with Niki for the team captain position, and although never achieved it, still managed to be disliked by Niki. They had a visible rivalry. While Niki tried to beat Minjun for second place, Minjun tried to beat Niki for the team captain spot. The passive aggressive remarks only made it worse, but for the sake of the team they kept, or at least tried to keep it civil. 

It reminded you of your friend group. You always tried your best to hide your deep rooted hatred for Niki around everyone, for the sake of their peace. The difference was that Niki never tried. He couldn’t bear a minute without making a sneaky and rude comment towards you. In some way it made you feel better about yourself, knowing that you're mature enough to not bother your friends with your private issues. 

“He’s probably with the team” you answered, and she pouted at your response.

“He wouldn’t want to sit with Miss Perfect here, anyways” Niki snickered, poking at his lunch uninterested in what he saw on the metal tray. The pork cutlet seemed awfully indigestible today. 

“I think you’re more so the problem” Hana defended, knowing you wouldn’t probably respond to him. 

“It’s not like Minjun is perfect, c'mon. He’s an annoying, selfious fuckboy” Jake said, in an attempt to clear Niki’s name. 

But why couldn’t he defend you? Did he really dislike you that much? 

“He really isn’t though” you responded, and Jake seemed taken aback by your change in demeanor. 

It almost looked like he felt entitled to say anything, but you had no right to respond to him unless you weren’t agreeing with him. Maybe that was what was left after your friendship of 10 years, the entitlement. 

“Of course you’d say that, because you probably want him like all his other fangirls” Niki smirked, and pushed away his tray. 

“Dude, leave it. Can we just have a peaceful lunch period for once?” Sunghoon spoke up, looking up from his English notes. 

He usually never said anything whenever these tense situations happened. Sunghoon kept quiet, listening in on the meaningless words leaving your mouths. 

“I’m gonna go” you rose from your chair, and picked up all your things. Hana tried to stop you, but her attempts were useless, as you gave her a small smile and left the table. 

“Well, I will too then” Niki announced trailing right after you. 

He walked towards you, a stupid look displayed on his face. You hated that you didn’t have any power over him, letting him treat you like this for no good reason. 

“If you want to continue telling me how awful Minjun is, I really suggest you leave it, cause I’m not going to change my mind” you turned to him, as he stopped next to you by the lockers. 

“I just want to get some books from my locker, can’t I?” he tilted his head, and smirked evilly when he saw your annoyed look. 

Another thing you hated was having a locker right next to his. Whoever assigned them, must truly despise you.  Or potentially pray for your downfall.

He just scoffed at your lack of interest, and started to rummage through his pocket for the small key to his locker. 

As soon as both of your locker doors opened, a swarm of notes and pink, red or purple little envelopes fell out. Some were cutely decorated, with adorable glittery stickers, some just a simple paper ripped out of the author's notebook. 

You two looked at each other confused. You knew Niki was popular, and Niki knew you were popular, but not to this extent. 

It wasn’t an issue, for a long time, but as comical as it sounded this was starting to get annoying pretty quickly. Sometimes the both of you wondered what made you so special, what made you stand out so much. Was it the academic success that no other student seemed to achieve yet? Maybe it was the physical tasks that you conquered without breaking a sweat? Or was it just your appearance that was unique among all? 

His mind was rushing, but one idea came out on top of the bubble of thoughts. 

______ 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Niki” you laughed at his absurd idea, wondering if Jake is somewhere recording this secretly. 

Niki can’t yet tell if you’ll buy it or not. The silence sinks into his skin, as the imprisoning walls surrounding you seem to close on him. Did he really just say that out loud? 

“Listen, we can just pretend to un-hate each other or something, and then date. It’s all fake, obviously. Do you think I’d want someone like you to be my girlfriend?” he responds. “We can’t tell anyone though” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumble, and he chuckles. 

“Oh please don’t tell me this is about Minjun?” 

You look at him annoyed. Why does he suddenly care so much about your relationship with Kim Minjun? 

 “And what if it is?” you roll your eyes, turning away from his tall figure. 

“He doesn’t care about you, Y/n. Can’t you just agree, we both get something out of it” he says, exasperated. 

He reaches for your small shoulder, turning your body in his direction. He holds you while silence embraces the both of you. The sun subtly shines through the small window of the equipment room, illuminating his face, a sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

“What is in it for me?” you ask quietly, the moment between the two of you, making your heart beat faster. 

Niki softens at the concern in your tone. 

He knew you liked Minjun, everyone did, but this much? Did you really care for that douchebag? Did you lay on your bed at night, your thoughts always coming back to Kim Minjun? What did he do to steal your cold heart so easily? 

“An empty locker, that’s for sure” he lets go of you “And assholes like Hyunsik won’t annoy you anymore, isn’t that enough?” he adds, his tone laced with confidence. 

“You know about Hyunsik?” you ask curiously. 

He stifles a sharp inhale, realization hitting him. 

Did you think he cares? He doesn’t. He couldn’t care less. 

He tries to calm his unsteady nerves, preventing himself from saying anything that could damage his uninterested approach to your person even more. 

“Eunseok told me,” he answered quickly, his gaze turning to the small window. 

You never told Eunseok. 

You never told anyone cause this wasn’t something abnormal. Yes, maybe Hyunsik was a bit forward about it, pushing himself onto you, but you just forgot about it after some time. 

“Alright’ you clear your throat “Let’s do it” 

Niki feels an unfamiliar warmth in his heart, trying to stifle the excitement that took over his body when he heard your words. 

“But what about our friends, Niki? Do you seriously think Sunghoon or Jake are that stupid?” you ask 

It floods him again; the comfort of his name passing your lips, and he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this way. 

“Hana is a hopeless romantic, she’ll believe anything if you slap a ‘boyfriend’ label on it. Eunseok and Sunghoon don't care anyway, and Jake? I’ll figure it out” he answers, his voice so calm “Everyone else will just believe it as long as we make it believable” he proceeds cautiously, putting emphasis on the ‘we’.  

“I don’t get not telling our friends, honestly” you murmured, looking around the room. 

He sighed “No offense to Hana, but she’s the biggest blabbermouth I know” he confesses. 

You agree internally, not wanting to admit it, too proud of your friendship with the girl. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow” he says after a moment of tranquility, leaving the room after he finishes his sentence. 

You watch him step out and leave you alone with all the thoughts and worries. 

______

And so he did pick you up. 

You wondered if Niki had cleaned up his car for you, remembering the mess last time you were in it. Probably not though. 

“Let’s go,” he said, keeping the door open for you. 

He grabbed your hand tightly, pulling through the crowd of students gathered in front of the building. Some had a stupid look on their face, wondering how the two of you could ever be dating, some didn’t even budge. 

Your chest swells with a torment of emotions, as you feel his warm, wrought hand grip yours. Pride, confusion, determination swarm through your veins, making a mess of your head. You press your knuckles to the warmth of your cheek, flustered by the looks you were receiving. 

Your eyes scan the whole building, trying to find Minjun, worried what he’d say when he finds out. You never wanted him to think you were just playing with him, and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what he was thinking when his eyes spotted yours. 

A sad look of disappointment decorated his face, as you passed by, holding Nishimura Riki’s hand so tightly. 

You screw your eyes shut, chest rising and falling rapidly. You want to tell him everything, you know you could. But there was a boundary you promised to not cross, for yours and Niki’s peace. 

“This is bullshit” Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, as the two of you appear in front of all your friends. 

“The assignment you wrote for my physics class was bullshit, and I didn’t say anything. This-” he says pointing to your intertwined hands “This is for real, the real deal” he adds proudly. 

How long has he been acting? 

“When did all of this happen?” Hana asks excitedly. 

You didn’t like agreeing with Niki, and even though it was sad to a degree, Hana really was gullible. 

You smile “We just started talking, I guess. It really happened naturally” 

How long have you been acting? 

“But weren’t you just fighting last week? And I thought you had a thing for Minjun?” Eunseok asked. He wasn’t supposed to care. 

“No, no, Minjun is just a friend” you answer after a moment. 

Niki was surprised at your lack of hesitation, no signs of nervousness. 

“Well congrats then. I’m happy for you guys” Jake smiled, and his acknowledgment meant the world to you. 

You couldn’t not care for him after all this time spent together. You wished you didn’t care about what he thought, what he was up to, because it was no longer your place to ask or wonder. 

“I hope Minjun doesn’t feel sad” Hana ponders, her soft heart melting for the boy. 

You laugh at her kindness, but deep down you know she’s right “I doubt. I think I made it clear to him that I’m not interested” you reply in an attempt to calm her nerves. 

“I hope so, he’s really a good guy” she mumbles, a look of frustration on her face. 

You wonder why. 

“He isn’t but whatever” Niki professes, a disgusted tone lacing his voice. 

Eunseok laughs “One day anniversary and he’s already jealous” 

You never expected them to be so gullible, to fall for such a fabricated lie, but here they were laughing and making jokes about the two of you. It was hard to lie to your friends, especially Eunseok and Hana, but something in your head kept convincing you that this was indeed a good idea. 

“You should’ve made a big reveal at the game” Hana acknowledges, a sweet smile on her face as she imagines herself in your position. “Our school would win, everyone cheering you on and then boom- you run up to Y/nnie and kiss her” she tells, a twinkle to her eyes. 

Niki laughs, and this time it seems genuine. He likes the thought of that, but can’t quite figure out why. Air is taken out of his lungs as he imagines carefully taking your jaw in one hand, and pressing a sweet kiss to your soft lips, as everyone cheers him on for leading the team to yet another victory. 

He can’t be thinking straight. 

“That’s a little bizarre don’t you think?” Sunghoon asks Hana, remembering watching something similar with the girl. 

Hana shakes her head, and he just chuckles at her persistence “I’m just giving him ideas, subtly” 

“Very subtle” Niki answers, and she winks at him. 

“Are we still on for the after party at yours?” Eunseok asks, turning his head towards Jake who seems to be totally out of it, as he hurriedly copies Sunghoon's chemistry homework. 

“Yeah, yeah. No matter if we win” he mumbles, devoted to a completely different world at the moment. 

A small smile forms on your face. You would definitely hold Niki tight, making sure no girl pulls him out of your grasp for a quick seven minutes in heaven. It’s all fake, though. Nothing more than just a pact between two sworn enemies who want a little more peace in their life. 

“Even if we lose, we still need to celebrate a good game” Niki smiles, and Eunseok smiles at his attitude. 

“With a captain like you my guy, we ain’t never losing” Eunseok winks at Niki, receiving a small laugh and bow from the boy. 

You felt guilty. This was the first time in a while when everything felt so gratifying and free amongst your friend group. With the constant fighting and teasing you never seemed to notice the charming dynamic between everyone. It felt like all along the both of you were the problem, and maybe your friends accepted this suspicious relationship so quickly, because it meant they got to experience moments like this once again. 

“What do these fucking hieroglifs say, I can’t decipher this shit” Jake grunts with frustration, as he pulls the notebook closer. 

Sunghoon laughs and tries to carefully explain every line of text to Jake. 

Maybe you were too focused on your own problems with Niki to notice that this is what could’ve been of your friend group. 

____

You and Niki seemed to get closer as time passed. 

The both of you didn’t even notice it, the barrier between you passing by like a breeze. It came all so naturally, and you never knew you’d have so much in common with the boy you swore you hated. 

You would accustom him to his practice sometimes, and he’d proudly show you off to all his teammates. The lines between faking it and being truthful have faded by now, confusing your heart a little. But just a little. Because at the end of the day it was fake. 

“I think it’s time you pay me back,” Niki said, a mischievous smile decorating his face. 

You looked at him with a confused expression “For what exactly?” 

He smiles, and brings his backpack to his chest, rummaging through it to find the key item. 

Niki was smart, very smart. He didn’t earn the number three rank for no reason, proudly representing the school on the pitch and in numerous academic competitions. Yet his mind couldn’t quite understand anything written in his physics textbook. He passed by fine, but it never satisfied him to cheat on his tests, and pay Sunghoon to do his homework for him. 

“Tutoring? Seriously? And what did you do to deserve it?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. 

He smiles widely “Well I haven’t seen any sappy men bothering you, so I think you owe me this one” 

“I haven’t seen any sappy girls bothering you either, so I thought we were even” you answer, not giving into his request just yet. 

You knew you’d do it. You did everything he asked you to do. 

“C’mon Y/n! I need your help, just this one time, please?” he pleaded, a pout on his face “I won’t be able to play in the game this week if I don’t get a good grade on this test” he adds in an attempt to convince you. 

You laugh at his desperation, and nod your head “Fine, but you owe me one” 

He nods hurriedly, and pulls out all the things you’ll need to give him the greatest tutoring session ever. 

“Imagine you’re driving a car” you said sketching a simple diagram “When you hit the brakes, what happens?” 

Niki furrowed his eyebrows, and you wondered how he couldn’t comprehend such a simple concept as Newton's laws. It was cute in a way. 

“Well I slow down, but that’s too obvious. This is probably a much more complex answer, isn’t it?” he pondered the question. 

“No Niki, it’s that simple” you laugh “That’s Newton's first law in action. An object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an external force. When you hit the brakes, you apply force to the car, causing it to decelerate” 

His eyes lit up in understatement, as he tried to solve another question you threw at him. 

“Was it really that hard?” you asked him with a small smile, and he hesitated at first. 

His eyes glazed through the notebook, but soon enough he answered “Not really. It was much better when you explained it rather than Ms. Lee” 

“I’m glad” you answered “If it’s really that bad, you can ask me for help” 

“It really isn’t that bad though” Niki answered, with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon you don’t even understand Newton's laws, it is bad” you reply. 

“Okay you geek, I get it. But I thought I have to deserve your tutoring?” he questioned, a small smirk on his face. 

“You gotta help out a dumb bitch once in a while” he pretends to be offended at your words. 

Not so long ago, he’d probably blow up at you for those words. He’d probably make a scene, resulting in everyone being uncomfortable for a good two days. This time was different. You were different. 

“The way you talk to me- it’s unlike you” you inquire suddenly, after a moment of calming silence. 

“How come?” Niki asks, not raising his gaze from the workbook. 

“Your voice is softer” you smile, and he can’t help but reciprocate. 

It brings him a weird comfort. The words passing by your lips, make his heart warmer, a trickling yet pleasing feeling in his spine. He can’t quite pinpoint the moment you touched his mind so intimately, erasing any barrier between you and him. Being with you felt so easy. It feels so easy, that he even forgets why he hated you in the first place. 

“Are you coming to my game?” he asked, a new found passion for physics coursing through his veins as he solves yet another problem with ease. 

You looked at him adoringly “Obviously” 

He chuckled “I’m glad” he looked up at you “But I thought you hated football” 

Well you did. You hated it because Niki played it. But even if he didn't ask you, you’d come. 

“I just don't understand it, that’s all” you gave him a half smile, looking through his textbook for any more challenging questions for Niki to solve. 

“You don't have to be there if you don't want to, Y/n” 

You seem to enjoy the way your name slips his lips so delicately. 

“No no, I want to be there for you, and I think It’d be sus if I didn't show up. Plus, Hana has some new crush and wants to see him play” you chuckle, and so does Niki, noting that the girl falls in love with anyone and everybody. 

“Is it Jay? I’ve seen them mingling before” he questions and you shake your head. 

“Jay was last month, old news. I think his name is Sungchan? Or Seunghan, I don't know” you ponder the question, going back to that one conversation you had with the girl about her new love interest. 

The possibility that he’s also not the guy she likes now is very high-her heart swooning for any man that gives her the time of day. 

Hana was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. No wonder she had a new talking stage every week, no boy being able to handle her. 

“Sungchan. He’s a good guy. I can approve of him, definitely better than Jay” he recalls many situations including Jay, where the boy proved himself to be absolutely useless and weird. 

Maybe it was his team captain complex, but Niki seemed to notice many things that others didn't. His duty was to take care of his teammates, so catching onto the tiniest things was inevitable. 

“What’s wrong with Jay?” you question, and he laughs wondering if the words will even peer out of his mouth. 

“He’s like, fucking perverted” he laughs “Well maybe not that badly, but still, he’s just proper dodgy” 

You're shocked at his admission, and internally  glad your best-friend  got over him so quickly. 

Your conversation with Niki seemed to flow so easily. You never had to try hard, something always slipping off your tongue, his personality making it so easy. You never thought you’d have so much in common with Niki, so much to talk to him about. You were so fixated on something that was beyond his control, instead of pissing Jake off for being a horrible friend. 

____ 

“I need to go to the bathroom quickly before the game starts” Hana said hurriedly, her small figure rushing towards the bathroom, making you smile to yourself. 

You blush. You remember the brief mention Hana made, expressing the want for a more romantic expose of the relationship between you and Niki. You wonder if Niki remembers too. 

Usually you never cared for the highschool football games, skipping in order to study more or spend time with your best-friend. This time was different, you felt like a trophy to your oh-so-fake boyfriend, excited to see what comes after he scores a winning touchdown. 

“Can we talk?” Minjun’s voice takes you by surprise, making you stop in a halt. 

“Uh, sure” you reply, taken aback by the sudden serious tone and demeanor, knowing him from the bubbly personality and sweet voice. 

“I know you’re faking it” your heart sinks “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to yourself? Seriously, Niki?” he asks, and you go completely silent, trying to figure out a reasonable answer to his accusations. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minjun,” you say after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t expect that reply. He doesn’t know what he really expected in the first place. 

“For whatever reason you are doing this, you could’ve just asked me. Why didn’t you ask me? I would’ve helped you, no matter how stupid it is” he kept going, and it felt like you were digging yourself deeper into this lie. 

He remembers standing in this same place, your hand hitting his arm playfully, your eyes lighting up at anything he said. In some way, he feels just as barren and vulnerable in your silence as he had that day. 

“Minjun, I think you should go join the rest of the team. They’re probably looking for you” you answered, wondering why Hana hasn’t come to save you by now. 

“I really liked you Y/n. Like really fucking liked you. I don’t know why you're doing this, especially why you’re helping out that asshole Niki” he added quietly, as Hana came up to the two of you. 

“Minjun!” she smiled at him, and he forced one himself “Fighting Minjunnie! I’m rooting for you! We both are!” she cheered. 

“Surely” he said, leaving the two of you. 

Hana turned to you confused with Minjun's sudden ignorance “Did you two fight or something?” she asked. 

“It’s nothing. I think he’s just stressed out” you replied calmly, leading the girl out to the bleachers. 

You tried to focus. You tried to be the perfect (fake) girlfriend for Niki, as he played one of his most important games, but Minjun’s words sunk so deep. They were all you could think about. 

You couldn't quite figure out why you didn't just admit it. Why didn't just tell him everything and end the bet with Niki? You wanted to so badly before. 

“Sungchan is playing like a bitch right now” Eunseok commented, disappointed with his friends performance. 

“Don't say that, Eunseok!” Hana slaps his forearm and he laughs at her anger. 

At least you knew she was still crushing on him, instead of Jay. 

“No seriously, what is going on with that man” Sunghoon said, squinting slightly, his eyes trailing behind Sungchans figure. 

Hana kept hushing them, begging for her friends to not speak so badly about her soon-to-be husband. You found it adorable, noting to ask Niki to set her up with him. 

“Our boy is doing so well though. Maybe he actually needed a girl in his life” Eunseok smiled at you. 

You felt a heat rush to your cheeks at his words, wondering if he actually performed any better this time. 

Maybe he was trying to show off in front of you? Or make you proud? 

“He’s been training like crazy” you say, and they keep hyping him up. 

“Jakey, are you okay?” Hana asked the boy sitting next to you, concerned when she noticed his tired face. 

He smiled “I’m fine, Hana. Don’t worry” he said fondly “Look Sungchan is waving at you” he pointed, the girl immediately turning her figure towards him to wave back. 

“Did you just see that? He waved at me! Sungchan waved at me!” Hana gleamed excitedly, Eunseok looking at her with disgust. 

“I can’t believe you like his bitchass” he half-smiled, shaking his head in a playful act of disbelief. 

“Aren't you two friends? Oh I’m so telling him about this” she replied, and he put his hands up. 

“Maybe your fantasy will come true” you inquire, and Hana’s mind races back to the moment she imagined a dreamy kiss on the field. 

“With the way he’s playing, I doubt there will be anything to celebrate” Jake said, and Hana hummed tiredly. 

“Can you guys leave him alone? He’s tired, okay?” she mused, and everyone nodded, done with teasing the girl. 

You can’t help but stare at Niki. Even with the heavy gear, he still manages to look good. When did he get so attractive? How come you’ve never noticed the pretty little mole on his chin, his gorgeous lips that begged for your touch, and eyes that grew whenever he talked about something he loves. He was right in front of you this whole time. 

You practically begged for Minjun’s attention just a couple weeks back, yet now you felt yourself fading away from the feelings for him. You can’t bring yourself to come up with any conclusion, or to bother with distractions, but why? Why was it so hard to just accept the truth as it was: you wanted Niki to want you. 

The game was nearing the end, and Niki could already smell the victory coming his way. He wanted to make you proud, he wanted to see your smile while you ran up to him, praises spewing from your mouth as he hugs you tightly. He hated that it was all fake, the realization dawning upon him; he wants you to want him. 

But he knows deep down that it’ll never be the two of you. 

A loud horn breaks your trail of thoughts, the audience screaming happily as Niki scores the winning touchdown. It was just like how you imagined, wondering if he’ll actually kiss you now. You know you wanted him to. 

He took off his helmet, his hair ruffled, beads of sweat falling down his face, but a wide smile when he spots you with a wide grin striding towards him. It’s just like he imagined. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Everyone is looking, and this is the moment he could victoriously hold you. It would make his ego grow, the perfect highschool popular kid image never dwindling, but what would you think of it? God what if you pushed him off of you in front of everyone. 

As much as he could prevent things from happening or predict anything, he couldn’t have known that you would be the one to initiate his deep rooted fantasy. He couldn’t have prepared himself for your pretty lips that pressed against him in a chaste, sweet kiss. You felt so good against him, and he couldn’t find himself pulling away. He never expected himself to enjoy such a fucking cliche moment- but here he was, wanting more and more. 

He wants to tell you everything in that moment- how he wanted this too, how he’d imagined your lips against his, and how he wants to kiss you everywhere. He knows he could. He’d even blame it on the slip of his unruly tongue. Yet there was a boundary he’d have to walk upon, a fear of losing you prevailing his selfishness. He knows he won’t. 

“Wh-” he tries, and fails to still his breathing. Niki hopes you can’t hear the tremble in his voice “How was it?” he asks, his voice unsteady. He doesn’t care though. 

“Your game or the kiss” you smile, and he wonders how you can be so calm about this. 

He smiles shyly “Both” 

“Stop” you laugh and he feels himself float above his body “You did great” 

“All for you” his response is amorous. 

Niki can’t help but laugh at your silence, watching you replay those words in your head. He pats your head, and throws his arm over your shoulder. 

How could any of this possibly be fake? 

“Good fucking game dude” Eunseok exclaimed, with a bright smile on his face, as everyone else decided to join you by Niki’s side. 

You looked around, a giddy and gleeful Hana, hugging a tired and sweaty Sungchan, as he smiled at her affection. Everyone had happily come down to congratulate the team, but Minjun was nowhere to be seen. Maybe you never intended to hurt him, but you so obviously did. 

“Jake you better fucking continue this energy at your disgustingly rich mansion” Sunghoon warned, and Jake smiled at his words. 

“You don’t have to worry about that” he replied contentedly, and you were glad to see him like this. 

Jake was rich. Like really fucking rich. To the point that he was offended when ‘eat the rich’ was trending, defending that he didn’t choose this life. His mansion in the hills was the go to spot for summer and any other party.

 But then again, it’s not like he didn’t have people to clean up after everything goes silent. 

_____ 

“Y/n!” you turned, your eyes meeting Wonbin’s, as you entered the kitchen you knew better than anyone present. 

You smiled, as the boy moved in your direction holding a red solo cup. 

Wonbin was your designated drink mixer and party buddy for whatever event hosted by whoever. You wouldn't call him a close friend, rather a person you’d talk to only on a special occasion. 

“Where your boyfriend at?” he asked with a grin, making you chuckle. 

The word didn't make your heart feel weird anymore. It felt so natural, normal, and sometimes you’d even forget it was all fake. For the past couple of weeks you’ve learned to forget easily, not wanting to pick apart Niki’s actions to maybe notice a pattern. You didn’t want to accidentally misinterpret. 

“Probably playing some stupid game in the living room” you sighed, hoping to get a little more out of him this time. 

You knew that the fake relationship was coming to an end, it already had gone on for way too long. 

“Mhm” Wonbin hummed, resting his body on the kitchen counter “It’s fake isn’t it?” he asked, taking you by surprise. 

You had absolutely no idea what to say. Wonbin really wasn't a part of any friend group you knew or were in, so what was the shame in telling him the truth? But it’d hurt your pride too much to say the truth out loud. 

You avoided eye contact, not knowing what reply would secure your safety and not damage your pride. Your silence made Wonbin laugh “C’mon, you can tell me” 

“It’s so embarrassing” you admit, and he shakes his head. 

“Not really. There’s plenty of girls who dream of this whole fake dating type of shit” he defended, and it made you smile lightly. 

He was right. There were girls out there who fantasized about a fake relationship, and there definitely were also girls who dream about a relationship with Nishimura Riki. 

Even though you initially hated his guts, maybe you were lucky after all? 

“I just can't comprehend the fact you chose Niki out of all people to be your fake boyfriend” he chuckled, and took a sip of his own drink. 

“It was his idea, I promise” you replied, and Wonbin mouthed a ‘no fucking way’, unable to imagine Niki, the person who swore he hated everything about you, ask you to be his fake girlfriend. 

“People can be really annoying, and I guess we just had some things in common after all” you added, and he nodded, still trying to visualize the situation you described. 

In a way it felt good to tell someone. You had been hiding it for so long, the lies eating you alive. 

It had been so long that you didn't even know what had become of this initially fake relationship. The line had already been blurred a long time ago, and it was hard to move along it at this point. He had done so many things, in private, that you didn't know where you stood anymore. 

“I can tell you actually like him” Wonbin admitted, once again taking you by surprise “The way you talk about him, it’s different” 

“You act so smart and psychological, it’s so annoying” you huffed, and turned away from him, chugging the drink he had previously made for you. 

He laughed “The truth hurts, doesn't it?” 

“I don’t like Niki” you said, trying to sound as confident as you could, but Wonbin saw right through you anyway. 

He didn't want to continue the topic, knowing he had already exhausted your limits. You also knew that no matter what, admitting something like that out loud wouldn't be easy either. 

The built up hatred and anger you had for Niki, couldn't have just disappeared so easily after a couple conversations and hangouts. But it did. And it frustrated you so much. 

“You guys playing spin the bottle in the living room with us?” a red faced Hana asked, peeking her head into the kitchen slightly. 

“With us, meaning?” Wonbin asked, making Hana slightly stumble into the kitchen. 

She started putting down her fingers “Well me, obviously” she smiled “Sungchannie, thank god” she let out a steady, thankful breath “Some girls, Oh Jia, Lee Chae, I don’t really recognize the rest. Oh, and Eunseok, Yang Jungwon, Minjunnie and some others” she went on, her drunken state making the explanation much longer than it should've been. 

“No, no, no! Niki too! Y/n you need to come!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. She took your hand and pulled you with her. 

You looked at Wonbin pleadingly, and with a small smile he trailed right behind the two of you. He always claimed to be ‘too old’ for those type of games, but always ended up staying till the end of any. 

Park Wonbin was truly full of shit. 

Your eyes met Niki’s as he sat in the circle, his back pressed against the couch. You looked at him, mouthing ‘what are you doing’ and he pointed to Oh Jia sitting across from him. 

You knew she liked him, and it definitely didn't make you happy. 

“I can see some couples here, yall into shit like this?” Jungwon asked, eyeing not only you and Niki, but Hana and Sungchan who seemed to have already made the news that went around school. 

You chuckled quietly and shook your head “It’s nothing that serious, just a stupid game” 

“It will be serious for you soon” Jia mumbled, her friend turning to her with a shit eating grin. 

Oh if they only knew how absolutely out of it they looked. What the fuck were they even talking about anyway. 

“I don’t think we should be playing this” you whispered to Niki, who previously patted down a seat for you next to himself. 

“Look how many people are playing, doubt me or you will get chosen” he smiled, and you nodded.

Still, isn't the sole fact you are even agreeing to participate weird? Shouldn’t you be mingling in a closet somewhere deep inside the house? God what was he thinking. This was so unbelievable, and you weren't surprised  that Wonbin had caught on. 

“Me first!” Hana cheered excitedly, as Eunseok had finally brought a bottle to play with. 

You looked over at Sungchan, who had a sad expression on his face. You could see his eyes praying on the bottle to land on him, his hands trembling with each spin. It was cute. 

The Gods above must have heard his prayers, the bottle landing on him with no doubt. 

He smiled and leaned into your bestfriend to plant a quick kiss on her lips. She pouted and grabbing his head, pushed for more. Maybe she was drunk, but you knew she’d remember this well. Although a witness, you’d hear about it for a long long time. 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to spin, Sungchan?” Eunseok chuckled, and the boy holding onto Hana, shook his head no. 

“Two players down so quickly” a boy with black hair, who you didn't recognize, commented. 

While Jungwon went in to spin, your eyes caught Minjun’s. You couldn't read him, his expression stone cold. He was either mad at you or didn't care. That’s the thing, you didn't know. 

“Stop looking at him” Niki whispered, cutting your moment with Minjun short. 

“I think he’s mad at me” you said, and Niki furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Why?” he asked, eyeing Minjun down. 

“He figured it out, you know, figured us out” you replied, putting emphasis on the word ‘us’ “I didn't admit, obviously, and that’s why I think he’s mad. He’s convinced I played him on purpose” you added, and Niki’s gaze softened. 

“I’m sorry” he said quietly, his eyes falling onto his lap. 

You looked at him confused, “What are you talking about?” 

He finally looked over at you, his face displaying a half smile, that felt cold to you “I ruined your chances with Minjun. I guess I was only thinking about myself back then, so I’m saying sorry. I can talk to him when this is over” he answered, and you felt your heart break. 

He didn't like Minjun, you knew it very well. Minjun knew it too. But somehow he felt bad for the both of you. If only he knew how much you didn't care about Kim Minjun at this moment. How much you actually cared about the boy next to you. Maybe if he knew he wouldn't feel so sorry, you thought. 

“You don't have to be sorry, Niki. We both wanted this” you smiled, and squeezed his hand. 

“I can tell Niki really wants to go now” Sunghoon exclaimed, and hurried Niki to spin the bottle. 

The boy hesitated, looking over at you. You nodded for him to go ahead with a smile. God was this weird? You agreeing to your (fake) boyfriend playing fucking spin the bottle. Not only that , but playing with him. This was so stupid. 

He took the small soju bottle, and spinned it lightly. He prayed it would fall on you. 

Or one of his bros, no homo of course. 

The music was blaring, and you hoped that bottle could feel your intense stare, successfully landing on you. 

As much as luck was on Sungchan’s side today, he seemingly took all of it with him earlier. The bottle pointed straight at Oh Jia, the girl who was known for her little obsession with Niki. 

She looked at you with a disgusting smile, and moved her body towards Niki. He looked at you, and you didn't even know what to say. You couldn't tell him no, he wasn't yours after all. 

“Sorry, Y/n” she muttered, and you felt your blood boil at her annoying, high pitched voice. 

She moved even closer, but her actions were stopped with Niki moving the bottle's nozzle to point at you. 

He didn't even let you or Jia speak, eagerly going in to kiss your lips he missed so much. It hasn't even been 3 hours since you initiated the first one, but his lips starved for your touch. You could feel it. You could feel the desperation in his movements. The taste of his chapstick mixing in with the saliva, it was much more passionate than last time. 

“Payback for last time” he mumbled, pulling away, his voice unsteady. 

You looked at him dumbfounded. What the fuck did he just do? Was this another stunt to show off his cool, popular boy persona, cause it seemed just like that. But you couldn't blame him either, you started it. 

No matter what, it felt good, and you wondered how to get yourself to stop. 

“That’s cheating!” Jia’s friend exclaimed, crossing her arms. 

“The bottle is clearly on her, I don't know what you're talking about” Wonbin defended, and you smiled at him. 

Jia huffed, leaving the game along with her friend. 

“We’ll leave too” you said, watching them go upstairs. 

Jungwon sighed “I’m forced to kiss the boys now” 

You looked around, not a single woman in the circle that was initially full. 

You pulled Niki’s hand, taking him to an empty room. He felt confident at that moment, rehearsing his confession in his head. He was going to tell you. He was going to tell you, and it was going to be amazing. You’d listen to him in awe, and then agree to be his actual girlfriend. 

“I have something to tell you” he said, as you closed the door behind yourself. 

He sat down on the bed, and you stood in front of him “Me too” 

“You go first” he smiled, and you looked out the window, the words lingering at the tip of your tongue. 

You wanted to tell him how you actually felt. But you knew you couldn't. You were enemies, nothing more. 

“We should end this,” you said after a moment of silence. 

_____ 

Things had gone back to normal. 

You didn’t expect much from Niki, guessing he’d either be overly nice to you, expressing his thankfulness for helping him get rid of annoying fangirls, or go back to being annoying himself. 

But he was neither. He didn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything that day, he had gone completely quiet ever since. Instead of teasing you, he ignored you. 

He ate lunch with the football team, and it hurt you to see him laugh purely with them. It even seemed like he had gotten along with Minjun, which confused you even further. They hated each other, but now? It seemed like they were just laughing at your misery, getting high off of seeing you like this. Was this just a huge plan to get you looking like a complete loser?

Maybe he should’ve been sorry that day, not only did you lose Minjun, but everyone of your fanboys at this school. That sounded awful, but it was partially true.

You two had only revealed the 'breakup' to your closest friends, not exactly reaching any agreement regarding the rest of the students. 

You could pretend to be mad at him in front of your friends, but it hurt you so much. It hurt to see him behave like this towards you, knowing you did nothing wrong. You two were never real, so why was he so different so suddenly. You just hoped that it was a performance for your friends to make it more believable, but as days went by, you started to doubt it. 

“This is a sign that I shouldn’t regret not dating Hana,” Sunghoon chuckled, looking over at the table Niki was seemingly having more fun at. He never laughed like this with all of you. 

Was it all for show?

“Fuck off” you mumbled, looking down at your lunch, which was vastly unappetising today. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/n, don’t worry. For all I know, it was probably his fault anyways” Jake said, which made you suddenly look up from your food for the first time in a while. 

“You defending me?” you chuckled, and he shrugged. 

You looked over at Niki once again, attempting to catch him looking at you too. 

But he can’t. He can’t bear to look at you. He can only think about the dark heat of that room, your words ringing in his ears. Resisting the searing force that wanted, more than anything, to try and tell you again. 

“God, this is so annoying!” Hana exclaimed “Y/nnie didn’t do anything, and he’s acting like a pussy all of a sudden” 

She pouted, a weird vibe circulating all of you today. It felt like you were mourning him in some way. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, a text message from Minjun lighting up your homescreen. It was ironic, a picture of you and Niki on your lock screen, a message from Minjun decorating it. 

Minjun: Can we talk? 

You thought about replying, the scenarios of him playing a stupid prank on you along with Niki replaying in your mind. Nevertheless, you texted back a short confirmation, and locked your phone. 

You could feel his eyes on you, as you set your phone down on the table. 

…

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, your voice unsure of the situation. 

It felt familiar, meeting in the equipment room, but this time instead of Niki who had the prettiest face out there, it was Kim Minjun.

“I knew it was fake” he said, and you felt a heat rise to your cheeks. 

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the window. The sky was gray, the sun no longer shining in through it. 

“I don’t want to talk about this again, Minjun,” you sighed, tired of the topic already. Especially tired of talking about it with him. 

“No that’s not the point” he stopped you from leaving, you turned towards him once again. 

“Then what is it Minjun? Did Niki tell you all about it? Did he tell you how stupid I was to fall for him, even though it was all fake? Did you get me to come here only so you could make fun of me for being so naive? Is that what it is?” you blurted out. You had suddenly lost control over your words, your response coming out much harsher than you intended. 

“What are you talking about? Do you seriously think I’m plotting behind your back with Niki?” he asked hurriedly. 

Now that he said it, out loud, it sounded so stupid. You knew Niki long enough to know he hates Minjun more than he has ever hated you, and would never ever make any deal with him.

“Maybe” you huffed, turning from him “I don’t know Minjun. Can you just say it already?” 

He sat down on the chair in the far right corner, his hand signaling for you to come closer, patting down the chair next to him. 

“I guess I did sort of figure it out, the fact that what you and Niki had was fake. But he told me about it himself recently. He also said you didn’t intend to hurt me, and that he forced you to do this whole fake dating thing” Minjun relayed the message, and you didn’t know Niki would remember your conversation during that stupid game. 

Niki was evidently mad at you for ending things with him, but encouraging Minjun to try with you once again? That was what pissed you off the most, you couldn’t figure him out in any possible way. One day you can’t figure out the actual intention behind his words, exchanging sweet words and kisses, and the other, going back to complete strangers. Not even enemies, strangers. 

“He really said that?” you asked, and Minjun nodded “I really didn’t want to hurt you Minjun. I’m sorry for leading you on, in some way. I should’ve never agreed to it in the first place” you add, avoiding eye contact with the boy. 

You hear him chuckle, and with a furrow to your eyebrows you look up at him. 

He smiles “It’s not your fault I already know that much. I shouldn’t have blown up on you before the match like that anyways. It truly is none of my business who you hang out with” he assured, and it made you feel a little better. 

“I know, but I just hope you can still speak to me comfortably after this” you gave him a small smile, still unsure of your situation with him. 

“I’m not going to try and get with you again though, don't worry” he said calmly, and although you knew it, it still felt weird to hear. 

You chuckled “Not to sound selfish, but why? Am I not cute anymore?” you pouted sarcastically, and he laughed. 

“I can see you like him, like a lot. I even felt stupid for saying those things to you, cause you made it so believable at the party. The way you look at him, the way you speak to him, that’s not fake. All of it is real, and I wouldn’t want to stand in the middle of that” he answered, and you felt your heart skip a beat. 

And you thought you were good at hiding it. 

“Niki doesn’t feel the same though” you gave him a sad smile, fiddling with the material of your sweater. 

“You think so?” he asks, but it doesn't necessarily sound like a question. 

You hum in agreement, and he chuckles lightly “The same goes for him. Trust me it’s real. I can see it, hear it and feel it. The way his voice was so sad yet hopeful when he spoke to me about you, I know he likes you. Niki is just really stubborn, and he’d rather live in misery and not tell anyone instead of just admitting his feelings to you, or honestly anyone else” he explains, and you feel your heart start to beat faster. 

Was he right? Did Niki like you? Or did Minjun have a terrible judge of character and all this way a complete bullshit.

“What should I do then? Gosh this is so annoying” you sighed, combing your fingers through your hair. 

“Tell him? What else is there to do? If I’m wrong, which I’m not” he smiled proudly “-and he doesn’t like you, I owe you big time” he offered. 

“I don’t know if I should take that risk, though” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Do you really want it to be like this for the rest of highschool? God, if he doesn’t like you, you’ll just find someone better” 

Easier said than done. 

But maybe he was right. At the end of the day you had nothing to lose, so why not just tell him?

“Fine” you grumble, and he laughs, taking your hand to pull you out of the room, before any teacher finds you. 

_____

You had left a note in his locker the next day, too scared to face him yourself. 

You waited, hiding your body behind the huge column, peeking to see if he had come to grab something from his locker already.

You felt like one of his fangirls. Giggling to yourself, as you awaited the arrival of your mighty savior, Nishimura Riki, hoping you are the one he picks. Hoping that he reads your note, and whispers an ‘I like you too’ rosy cheeked, hot breath and all. 

How did you get like this? You curse yourself for letting something so seemingly small, so innocent, writhe under your skin and possess your mind. 

You didn’t catch it, lost in your mind, envisioning the numerous scenarios that could occur after he receives your note. 

He sighs with annoyance, a note filling his locker, it had been so long since he received one, it felt unfamiliar. Niki was frustrated, hoping that the notes weren’t making a sudden comeback. 

He opens it, curious as to what it may be. He couldn’t help it, wanting to remind himself of the feeling reading confessions like this brought him. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name written on it. 

He thought it may have been a prank, a stupid way to get you back together made up by your dear friends, but it wasn’t. This was your handwriting, the same one that wrote all his physics notes and study guides. 

‘Niki, it’s Y/n. This is weird isn’t it? Like me writing notes to you. I hope you don’t see the pink envelope, and throw it out like you always do. But I’ll know if you do, anyways. Well first of all I wanted to apologize. I don’t even know what for, so this may be stupid, but I feel like I should. You looked so sad, and I know it’s because of me. So I’m sorry, Niki. If I did something wrong, something to hurt you, please tell me! Anyways, I wanted to tell you something. I like you Nishimura Riki. I’ve liked you for a long, long time now, but I myself didn’t know it just yet. But I’m saying it now, and I'm very much sure of it. I guess it took some stupid physics tutoring, geeky Wonbin and finally Minjun whom you hate so much for me to realize. God, maybe I shouldn’t talk about him in a note where I confess to you? Forget it. I didn’t kiss you that day to show off, I kissed you because I really freaking wanted to. And it felt so good when I did. So please don’t think I ended things with you that day because you kissed me, no, not at all. I guess I just couldn’t stand this relationship being fake, because to me, all the things I did were real. You don’t have to reciprocate, or even say anything, I just wanted you to know. And I would hope you feel the same, but it’s okay if you don’t’ 

His mouth runs dry. 

It explodes in his chest all at once; how bad he wants to grab a fistfull of your blazer, stroke his fingers against your ivory jaw, and kiss you senseless. He would rub his thumb against your swollen lips, and tell you how much he likes you. 

He looks around, spotting your shoe slightly peeking out from behind the column a little ahead of the lockers. 

“Baek Y/n!” he shouts, and you're suddenly brought back to reality. 

Your mind had been rushing for so long, you didn’t even notice Niki walking up to his locker, and managing to even read the whole note. 

You slightly peek your head out, and catch his eyes already looking at you. He strides towards you quickly, and you can’t tell if he’s mad or happy. He holds the note in his hand tightly as he stands in front of you. 

“What is this?” he smirks, and you still can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you or return your feelings. 

You shrug, looking away from him. 

“It’s cute. You even put those stickers we bought at the stationery store on it” he points out, chuckling, and grabs your hand so you can face him again. “What do you think I’ll say now?” he tilts his head, and you find it incredibly attractive. 

“I don’t know” you murmured, unsure of the situation you have gotten yourself into. 

“Let’s see” he scans the note again “I think I like you too” he smiles, and you don’t know if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“You think?” you ask, copying his action by tilting your head slightly. 

He laughs “Are you really going to make me say it?” 

You nod with a smile “Mmm” 

“Yes Y/n, I like you. I don’t think I like you, I definitely like you. I’ve also liked you for a long time, but I didn’t want to admit it because I knew you probably didn’t. And that day, when you ended things, I wanted to tell you. But I’m glad you did it, even if I had to wait a little longer. That fake relationship was fucking with my head big time” he answers, and you feel stupid for not letting him speak first that day. You could’ve avoided this whole misunderstanding. 

But things happen for a reason. 

“Are you being for real?” you ask, and he chuckles. 

He grabs your shoulders “Very real” 

You pull him closer, tightly embracing his body. He smiles, the familiar scent hitting his nose. Niki’s cheeks are glowing red, and he can’t hide his toothy smile. 

“So would you want to be my girlfriend, like my real girlfriend” he asks, his voice muffled by the material of your sweater. 

You laugh lightly at his tone “I don’t know…. You tell me” you tease, and he pulls away to look at you with a small pout. 

“Cmon, just tell me” he pleads. 

“Yes Niki, I want to be your real girlfriend” you answer, emphasizing the word ‘real’. 

Now you could finally enjoy him, and by the way your heart beat, this time you were certain it was real. 

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen x reader #niki angst #nishimura niki #niki scenarios #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki imagines #enhypen niki #niki #riki x you #riki angst #riki imagines #riki scenarios #riki #riki fluff #nishimura riki #riki x reader #enhypen riki #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios

[stsgluver]

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!! #gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles

[bewarethecircles]

After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

#ineffable bureaucracy #gabriel x beelzebub #beelzebub x gabriel #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #is all of this in character? Maybe not #but the dynamic they have in my brain is hilarious so it's what I'm going with

[nouearth]

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter… 

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 

you. that was all he wanted. 

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur. 

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 

nothing was wasted. 

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#✰ : nou.fics #✰ : nou.marvel #x male reader #✰ : nou.peterparker #male reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x m!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #dc x reader #x reader #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x m!reader #m!reader #male reader insert #bottom male reader #spiderman x m!reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland imagine

[klemen-tine]

Blowing Raspberries

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.

Part 2

TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect

Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot. 

Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting. 

“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs. 

“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it. 

“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?” 

“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and– 

“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.” 

“Dami!” 

“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing. 

Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair. 

“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life. 

Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about. 

“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”

Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham. 

Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne. 

They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads. 

“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.” 

“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.” 

“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book. 

“It's Elizabeth Bennett.” 

“Jay, I swear to God.” 

“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.” 

“Little wing–” 

“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.” 

“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words. 

“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs. 

He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –

“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?” 

“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–” 

“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!” 

– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched  Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present. 

“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it. 

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee. 

“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 

He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle. 

Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’ 

Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason. 

“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?” 

Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass. 

“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze. 

Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission. 

Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.

The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home. 

Y/N quickly shot those down.

Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something. 

Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here. 

‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine. 

“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight. 

When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over. 

Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child. 

Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance. 

Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing. 

However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away. 

Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them. 

“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why. 

Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here. 

++++

“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder. 

“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.” 

The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up. 

Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others. 

He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred. 

They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home? 

Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence. 

There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.

Every phone call, every text message going unanswered. 

‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking. 

‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea. 

“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.” 

Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector. 

“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?” 

In the L/N Manor 

Y/N walked  the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere. 

When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm. 

Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it. 

Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham. 

Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him. 

Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.

Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window. 

“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl. 

“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?” 

‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face. 

“Did F/N do this?” 

“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?” 

“You’re rooms this way.”

“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice. 

“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!” 

“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory. 

“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.” 

Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.” 

“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go. 

“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip. 

“Guys, you’re scaring me.” 

“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move. 

Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing. 

“Wa-”

“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor. 

++++

Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages. 

Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand. 

“Oh good, you’re awake.” 

“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably. 

“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–” 

“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands. 

“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.” 

“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.” 

Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say. 

“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–” 

“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile. 

Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 

Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. 

“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different. 

“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his. 

“I-I should change first–” 

“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.” 

“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something. 

The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted. 

“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty. 

Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”

“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air. 

Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about. 

“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family. 

They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like. 

Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick. 

Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.” 

“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman. 

“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers. 

“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.” 

“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper. 

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say. 

Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries

Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly. 

“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-” 

“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance. 

“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–” 

“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family. 

Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly. 

“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.” 

“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”

“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.” 

Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.” 

“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.” 

“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in. 

“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.” 

“Language.” 

“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company. 

“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!”  Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"

Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.” 

He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper. 

“Just… just please don’t do that again.” 

“It won’t happen again. I promise.” 

______________________________________________________________

Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #bruce wayne #platonic batfam #platonic batman #batfam x male reader #yandere imagines #yandere #batfamily x reader #batfamily shenanigans #jason todd #dc robin #red hood #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne

[bueckers]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

part two. a/n | hiii! new blog but not new to wbb or writing, i’m infact true to this! masterlist & blog introduction soon but i thought i’d get a fic out first (this is lowkey long but bare with me).

summary: in which the pleasure elicits a confession.

warning(s): smut with plot! fingering, fear of being caught, praising, pet names, scissoring, some angst at the end, idk paige is absolutely obsessed with you..

pairing: paige bueckers x fem reader

You hadn’t particularly expected yourself to get sexually involved with the star athlete of UConn, but it kinda just happened.

You’d met Paige Bueckers through Azzi Fudd during yours and hers junior year. Hitting it off with her and the team was no problem. You got along with everyone and it was one of the many qualities that could be admired, but Paige found a sense of comfort with you.

During the start of her recovery, she found it hard to go back to going out like she used to. But the one night she’d decided to make an appearance for the first time since tearing her ACL, she met you and it changed everything. You had morals that changed her perspective, a bright smile that lured her in, and confidence that wasn’t too cocky to be deemed unattractive. You were everything.

From hangouts with the group to study sessions and finally hanging out alone, you found yourselves entirely comfortable with one another. So much so that the team had gotten so used to seeing you together, that they asked where the other was when you were by yourself.

One night when Paige had decided to stay over at your dorm, you’d been wrapped up in a conversation about relationships and the complexity that came with them. You both had similar ideas just like you did on nearly everything. Paige not being able to really commit to anybody with her busy schedule, and you just simply not being into dating. It never went well for you. The last girl fucked up and if there was one thing you always got sick of, it was waiting for people to change.

An idea sparked your mind, and just like always, you spoke it. It was a suggestion that would possibly change your dynamic forever, but as Paige watched the words slip out of your mouth and your eyes dart between her lips and eyes; something you always did but it seemed different this time, she couldn’t say no. It felt like a bad idea. She really liked you and wasn’t sure where that would lead the two of you, but she would’ve taken any part of you she could get her hands on.

Now, a little less than a year later, it was safe to say your dynamic had changed. Completely. Paige was at the highest point in her career, her popularity only expanding just everyday. Your casual sex continued, but the more intimate you got, the more Paige found it hard to deny the feelings she felt for you. She distanced herself. You didn’t talk the way you used to and surely didn’t hangout the way you used to, because those hangouts always turned into more.

You missed Paige. You had her but you didn’t have her, and although you knew what your suggestion would bring, you still couldn’t pinpoint why she couldn’t open up to you anymore. Why she avoided conversing with you alone. It was an abrupt change from the comfortability she’d showed when everything first started, exploring each other in ways past imagination because that’s what the agreement was for. But everything changed so quickly, and Paige found more meaning in the words she whispered while reaching her high, more meaning in the flirty jokes, and more meaning in your lingering gazes. She over-analyzed everything, and it was fucking driving her crazy.

Nobody knew. You couldn’t even fix your lips to tell Azzi how you’d been hooking up with her best friend. You were sure everyone had an idea though; paige could hide a lot of things physically but the glint in her eyes when she looked at you was undeniable, and although KK and a few others had pointed it out jokingly, you two brushed it off like it was nothing.

Currently, you’d been sitting at a table with some of the team members at the bar. It had been getting late despite you only being on your second drink and not feeling a bit of it, engrossed in a conversation with Aubrey about all kinds of things. Sometimes you wished you were a lightweight.

A few minutes later, Paige slid onto the stool next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge her. You hadn’t talked to her in a little bit over a week, and finally decided that if she wanted to play the distant game, you would too. She seemed a little tipsy to you, her continuous movements you caught in the corner of your eye proving so. You could admit she looked good when she first walked in. She must’ve worn braids to practice or something because her wavy locks had been flowing over her broad shoulders, a look she knew you fell weak to.

Your attention averted at the sound of Azzi’s voice. “I’m heading out!” She announced loud enough for her friends to hear. They bid her with goodbyes as you began to gather your things, stopping at the feeling of Paige’s hand creeping up on your thigh. She turned to you, a look on your face that you could’ve mistakened for a slight pout.

“I wanna take you home,” was as all she said, and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. You understood her words, but found it hard to comprehend as her thumb began stroking the crease dangerously close to your center.

Regaining composure, you cleared your throat. “‘S okay. I rode with Az, she can take me home,” You replied almost sharply. You didn’t question her silence over the past week, not in the mood to cause a scene; just responded like everything was normal, yet one thing you could never hide was an attitude.

As you turned to get up, content with the few words exchanged, Paige twirled your stool back around to her with her opposite hand, stopping you. “I wanna take you home,” She stated again, her voice low but firm. You knew Azzi had been stalling as she waited for you, so as you locked eyes with Paige’s piercing blue hues, you knew what you had to do. What felt right but so wrong.

Averting your gaze, you whipped your head to Azzi’s direction, immediately catching her eye and jerking your head to the side slightly to indicate that Paige would be taking care of you (in more ways than one). She gave you a knowing look, causing you to roll your eyes and spin back around to Paige. She had her suspicions, but they weren’t confirmed so it didn’t matter.

As soon as you did so, Paige easily stepped down from the barstool, grabbing your hand so she could help you down, a bigger challenge for your height. “We’re heading out too,” She stated simply, and the crew eyed your exchange, little chuckles escaping their lips. The entire group had their conspiracies about you two, simply because they’d never seen Paige act like this around any other girl.

Saying your goodbyes, you hadn’t realized Paige’s hand still interlocked with yours as she looked around the bar, seemingly antsy and ready to go as you said goodbye to her teammates. As you dragged her out, she glanced down at your hands, quick to pull them apart and cover it up by reaching to slip her lanyard out of her pocket, the ringing of the keys interrupting the silence.

You only stared at her a second longer before sighing, licking your lips as you crossed your arms. Your position didn’t falter the entire way there, and the walk from the campus bar to Paige’s dorm felt like ages.

“Is there a reason for that lil’ attitude you got?” Paige chirped, the two of you barely making it through the door as she walked in before you, her back turned as she flung her keys to the counter. You scrunched your face up as you shut the door behind you, your arms finally uncrossed.

“What are you talking about?” You asked in fake oblivion. You were aware of the sharpness in your tone when you first replied to her. Your demeanor the whole walk here even.

Paige only chuckled, turning around swiftly as she leaned against the island. “Heard it there too,” she said, pointing out the way you’d responded. “I do something?”

It was your turn to chuckle, audibly shocked that she had the nerve to even ask such a thing. “How’d you decide that tonight was the perfect night to have sex with me again after ignoring me for a week?” You ask rhetorically, a smile on your face. You wanted to punch the stupid smirk off of hers. She was too cocky for her own good, and you knew your words would only ignite that trait.

“If you wanted me sooner you could’ve hit me up, you know this,” She replied, her arms now crossed over her chest as her tongue swarmed her mouth. She was amused.

You scoffed, walking closer as you spoke which was something you tended to do when you were upset. You got in people’s faces. “That’s not the point, Paige.” You stuttered out, looking for the right words. Only Paige could make your normally nimble-minded self stutter at such a comeback.

Her eyes scanned your face. “Then what is the point, mama?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden pet name. This girl knew you in and out and she was using it to her advantage. It hurt, but you blamed yourself.

You stopped in front of her, trying not to let her looks get the best of you as you bit down on your lip. “You’ve been distant,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze as you stared at the ground. You felt pathetic— something you’d only felt a few days out of the year. It was rare. “And I hate it.” You finally emphasized, peering up at Paige who seemed to have lost any of her previous confidence at your words.

Her lips were plump and parted as she stared at you. It was enough to know you’d noticed and that you cared, but she didn’t want to address it, she wanted to kiss you. In one swift motion, she dropped her arms to their respective places, like a default and they knew where to go: one gripping your waist like her life depended on it, and the other cupping your face like she was being handed something she was told to take care of.

Your body trembled as you softened underneath her, your lips automatically moving against hers as you used all your pent-up emotions to keep up with her. You’d forgotten all about your said attitude and the way Paige had totally dismissed the conversation, but right now, it was the last thing you cared about.

Her tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a whine from you at the quickness that made Paige’s knees buck. She loved to hear you. She loved any sound you made. You made her weak.

“Can never get e-fucking-nough of you,” she breathed out, the comment more to herself. It was words like these that made you question how casual your hooking up was. She got so poetic and warm in the world of sex with you, and you loved it. It didn’t matter if she was praising or belittling you because you would eat it up every damn time.

Your hands roam through the waves of her hair, finding a spot that you comfortably grip and tug, the motion causing Paige’s lips to part from yours as her head tilted back slightly. You brought your lips down to her jaw, peppering kisses down the line and to her neck as you held her by her hair, Paige smiling above you. It always started like this— a constant fight for dominance that Paige always won. It was why she’d been smiling so hard.

It didn’t take long for you to find that good spot of hers, her smile instantly becoming a face of pure satisfaction as you sucked a light hickey onto her neck within seconds. You never did that because you knew Paige would only have to cover it up, but it felt right.

As Paige’s hands hooked under your legs and hoisted you up, you yelped, following the gesture with a giggly laugh that Paige couldn’t help but crack a smile at. She missed you. “Tired of standing,” she mumbled, carrying you to her bedroom. During the short way there, your lips had found her face again, never getting enough of all of the places you could leave a wet, sensual peck.

Setting you down at the edge of the bed, Paige turned around so she could shut and lock the door. She slid her UConn sweatshirt off in the process, pivoting back to you as you sat there in all your glory, laid back on your elbows. Paige immediately got to work, pulling off your pants as she hovered over you, her bottom lip sitting snug in between her teeth.

Glancing up at her, you immediately wanted her closer as she took them off painfully slow, and as soon as she was done throwing them into a corner of her room, she didn’t have any time to fully turn her head before you were pulling her into you, kissing her eagerly for the second time that night.

Her hands roamed beneath your engulfed bodies as her mind already knew where everything was without having to look. If there was one thing she learned from having sex with you, it was your body. She knew it as if it were a topic she’d studied for hours. Her fingers glided over your clothed cunt, causing your body to squirm at the unexpected touch.

She smiled into the kiss at your reaction and the feeling of your wetness, her body falling next to you as she propped herself up with her elbow. She pushed the fabric to the side with two fingers, her lips continually moving against yours as she circled your clit. Without warning, she pushed her two middle fingers into you. You never needed much foreplay because of how wet you got so easily, but that was a gift only Paige received.

You instantly pulled away from the blonde at the feeling, your head glancing down to her moving fingers as your mouth fell agape. Paige’s hooded eyes stared at the side of your face as your head eventually settled back onto her leaned arm with a gasp. She licked her lips, looking at the way her fingers moved in and out of you so effortlessly. “Look, baby. Doin’ so good for me.” She praised, your moans sounding like music to her ears as your eyes fluttered shut.

Suddenly, she curled her fingers, eliciting a loud, pornographic moan from the depths of your throat. “I told you to look,” she stated firmly. You opened your eyes slowly but surely as Paige lifted her arm underneath you so your head was at an elevated angle to see the bottom half of your body, and you swore you would come simply at the sight and Paige’s strength that had been showcased from her holding you. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she cooed. Another praise. Paige never cursed, but when she got in bed with you, it was inevitable.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” you told her, and although your mind had been completely fucked out, you were still good at picking out the things Paige got weak about, which realistically would be everything, including when you called her baby.

Her breathing picked up, the room becoming hot. “Yeah? Can’t wait any longer?” Paige questioned, and you automatically shook your head through moans, turning to look at Paige who had her eyes locked on you. She took a snapshot of you with her eyes, a picture she would frame in the Louvre if given the chance.

“N-no. Can’t wai— fuck!” You came undone on Paige’s fingers with a loud groan as her pace quickened inside of you, your juices coating her fingers. She couldn’t revert her gaze from your glistening cunt and the way it reflected on her slender hands, getting an urge to taste you, yet she held off.

Your chest heaved as she slowed down, a noise being made as she slipped out of you. You laid back once more despite the fact that Paige’s arm must’ve fallen asleep by now, watching through half-shut eyes as her fingers came into view. She shoved them into your mouth, her lips parting as she tilted her head slightly and watched you lick your own slick.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, nearly drooling as you grabbed her hand with your own, pushing her digits further into your mouth. You indulged at your own pace, peering up at her, knowing the thrill it would give her. Your tongue slid between the two fingers, working its way to slurp everything off. Finally, Paige had enough.

She forced her fingers out of your mouth, sliding out with a pop because of how tight you’d wrapped around them. She got up and made her way around the bed, settling with her back against the headboard. You followed her there with a crawl, laying in between her slightly spread legs as you leaned into kiss her. As your lips moved, you felt the urge for more, pulling away abruptly. Catching your breath, Paige couldn’t control her own as she looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She breathed out, her hands still cupping your cheeks.

You looked down, your head moving in between her cupped hands. “Too many clothes.” You panted, prompting a smile from Paige who was quick to lift her hips up, your bottom halves crashing for a moment as she slipped her sweatpants off, throwing them off the side of the bed. You followed suit with your shirt, leaving you in a lacy, purple bra that made your tits look fucking phenomenal.

Paige leaned back against the headboard, taking in the sight as you sat up before her, teasingly running your hand up the strap of your bra while you looked down. You knew what you were doing, purple is Paige’s favorite color. Eventually, you brought both hands to the clasp in the back, finally glancing at Paige who seemed to be stuck in a daze. You smirked slightly, not tearing your eyes away from her as your tits fell from its holder, and Paige was ready to dive into you.

“C’mere.” Her voice was husk as she whispered for you to come closer, and you obeyed, crawling back to your previous position between her legs with a smirk. Thinking Paige was going to kiss you once more, you brought your lips closer to her, but she dipped her head to your collarbone, her mouth immediately getting to work as you moaned softly, bringing your hand up to play with her hair.

She began sucking, and you swore you started to feel dizzy. You glanced down at the pink-ish mark forming on your skin above the place she’d now been getting to work on, making you a bit confused in the mist of your heavy breathing before you glanced down at the spot on Paige’s neck that had now been a dark purple color. You didn’t think she’d noticed, but obliviously she had. Paige knew it wouldn’t be a good look to her friends, but she didn’t care. It was fair game and she couldn’t resist you.

She then moved down, beginning to fondle with your breasts. She massaged one with one hand, attaching her lips to the other, her tongue swarming your nipple. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered, bringing your hand around to tuck her hair behind her ear, getting a good sight of her. How pretty she looked beneath you like this was all you could think about.

A few moments later, she pulled her lips away, seemingly content with the work she’d done. She hastily pulled her boxers down afterwards, you following eagerly with your soaked panties, the same ones Paige hadn’t even bothered to pull down when fingering you. Just as the two of you tangled your legs together, your beating cunts an inch away from igniting the longing pleasure, the jingle of keys and distinct chatter interrupted the moment, making you whip your head around towards the door.

You could make out the voices of Amari and Ice, realizing they must’ve left a little bit after you and Paige. The walls were too thin for this.

Without notice, Paige pressed her bottom half into you, making you moan out. She was quick to cover your mouth before you could yourself, your eyebrows furrowing through pleasure and fear of being caught. “You know I love hearin’ you but you’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby, okay?” she whispered, making you nod. Although the chances of being caught were high because of the unlocked door, the warmth of Paige’s clit hitting yours over and over was enough to make you forget about all of that.

You moved against her in a way Paige thought was painfully slow, a bead of sweat already forming at the top of her head as you both couldn’t tear your eyes away from where your bodies interlocked. She brought you down to her face, peppering soft kisses to your lips as you could barely build up the strength to kiss her back, all of it going into the way you moved.

Through low curses and pants, you finally mustered the strength to move your hand to Paige’s cunt, her reaction resulting in her dropping the hand previously over your mouth, her bones feeble. “Shit, keep going,” Paige murmured, her words enough to make you speed up your motions. Your hips bucked back and forth on her, whining as you tried to get as much as friction as possible.

Paige’s hands shot down to your waist, gripping them as she admired the way her fingers molded into your skin. They trailed down to your ass, her head tilting to the side a bit so she could get a good view of the way you looked from behind. She couldn’t quite fathom how you looked good in every position.

Dazed and breathless, you both felt your high bubbling within you as you continuously moved, the sound and smell of sex filling the room. “Paige, I’mmm.. fu— almost..” you could barely get any words out, but the blonde could make out what you were trying to say as she pushed her hips up further, getting any resistance she could.

“I’m right with you, fuck,” Paige dragged her words out, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to hold off a little longer, but she physically couldn’t. Her stamina was a bit better than yours overall because she was an athlete, but tonight she wasn’t holding off.

You leaned down to rest your head in the nape of Paige’s neck, the slightly new angle pushing you both over the edge. You felt intoxicated as you came undone, Paige’s center never giving the throbbing a rest as she came right with you like she’d promised. “Sh-shit.” Paige’s voice had gotten high for the first time that night. “I love you so fuckin’ much, fuck.” Paige admitted, her words rushed out. You only panted, bringing your head up to rest against her forehead as your chests heaved and you both stopped moving. Paige opened her eyes at your touch, only being able to stare into your eyes for so long— caught in a different universe as your lips hovered over hers.

Still breathless, Paige managed to wrap her arms around you and set you down next to her, your wet, sweaty body hitting her sheets. Coming down from the sacred high and finally having room to think, you’d only just then comprehended what Paige had said, knitting your eyebrows slightly from next to her. You turned your head, realizing she had managed to hoist herself up and put her clothes back on, grabbing scattered pieces of clothing in the process. Your scattered pieces of clothing.

You propped yourself up on both elbows, her comforter covering your chest. You realized that if anyone were to walk in right now, there would be no hiding the fact that you’d indeed just fucked— your mascara smudged, your hair an absolute mess. You cleared your throat, indicating you were back in the right state of mind and Paige’s body shook. Her back was turned to you, but she could already feel the tension heavy in the room.

Paige had never, not once said those three words to you. And with the way she was acting, you could tell it wasn’t one of her heat-of-the-moment sayings. She’d meant it. “Paige—“ she cut you off before you could address it.

“You should go. It’s late.” Despite her attempts to shake you off, Paige knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t get the last word with you. She might’ve been too full of herself, but you were one quick-witted individual.

You chuckled from behind her, an attempt to hide the actual hurt in your tone. “You’re serious?” you asked, although you knew she was. Your eyes were widened and you couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing before literally kicking you out.

She turned around and effortlessly tossed your clothes onto the bed, the garments landing right in front of you. She didn’t have to say anything. You could fucking feel it. You didn’t have the energy to put up a fight or an argument because it simply did not seem like she cared enough for it. Her words would only hurt you more. You’d known and learned this girl through and through and you would’ve never thought she’d do such a thing. You normally stayed the night, took a shower together, or even just stayed in each other’s warmth until having to tend to something. But tonight, she’d dropped a bomb and resulted in acting like an asshole.

You had a slight frown on your face as you hastily gathered your things, your clothes sloppily thrown on your body like you were sneaking out from a one-night-stand. You tucked your hair behind your ears as you put your shoes on, ignoring the unreadable expression on Paige’s face as her eyes shot daggers into you. Why weren’t you saying anything back? Why weren’t you shouting the most cruel things in her face? She felt like she’d deserved some backlash for what she just did, yet you seemed more hurt and eager to get out of her room than angry.

Without a second glance at the blonde, you rushed out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind you which elicited a slight jump from Paige. Waltzing across the living room, you almost didn’t catch the widened eyes of Amari and Ice in the kitchen. You didn’t care that their speculations had been confirmed, because it was shut down now. Despite being the only girl Paige had been fucking for months on end, she treated you like just another fling tonight, and you were hurt. You were hurt because you loved her too and she didn’t care enough to say it again.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw #wlw ns/fw #lgbtq #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn women’s basketball #bueckers’ works 🍒

[ghost-proofbaby]

IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse. 

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him. 

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless. 

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings. 

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival. 

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles. 

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery. 

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating. 

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of  mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own. 

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him. 

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy. 

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.” 

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.” 

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him. 

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?” 

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun. 

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.” 

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl. 

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization. 

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault. 

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life. 

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal. 

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence. 

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town. 

Come to me. 

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence. 

Come to me. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems. 

“Why are you here?” 

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him. 

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible. 

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment. 

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…” 

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you. 

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give. 

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” 

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch. 

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own. 

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths. 

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness. 

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-” 

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep. 

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns. 

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away. 

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs. 

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.” 

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down. 

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him. 

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.” 

“So why are you still in pain?” 

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other. 

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.” 

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps. 

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…” 

“Different?” 

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind. 

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night. 

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.” 

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger. 

“What was the cost?” 

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing. 

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now. 

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey. 

Blood shouldn’t be sweet. 

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow. 

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you. 

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance. 

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration. 

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed. 

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?” 

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him. 

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees. 

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?” 

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.” 

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.” 

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance. 

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it. 

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them. 

“Don’t,” he lowly warns. 

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?” 

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches. 

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment. 

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger. 

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were. 

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s. 

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you. 

He could almost taste you. 

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.” 

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable. 

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger. 

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone. 

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch. 

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.” 

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer. 

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone. 

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him. 

He’s losing control. You’re losing control. 

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation. 

A road to your hunger. 

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease? 

Probably. 

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge. 

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs. 

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising. 

Come to me. 

“Please.” 

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out. 

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.” 

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now. 

You’re so close. So close. 

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. 

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat. 

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.” 

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance. 

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push. 

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-” 

He breaks. 

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you. 

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure. 

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment. 

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper. 

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you. 

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them. 

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly. 

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being. 

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you. 

I need more. 

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his. 

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously. 

Then take it. 

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt. 

My pleasure. 

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. 

Sweet as honey. 

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words. 

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with. 

“Yes, please.” 

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to. 

And you most certainly did not want to. 

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control. 

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.” 

Yes. 

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.” 

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously. 

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this. 

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.” 

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy. 

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters. 

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts. 

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure. 

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.” 

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical. 

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him. 

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed. 

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine. 

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood. 

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin. 

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?” 

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.” 

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry. 

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you. 

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity. 

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance. 

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you. 

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself. 

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.” 

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares. 

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his. 

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth. 

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him. 

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure. 

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.” 

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it. 

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed. 

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you. 

Eddie. 

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire. 

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter. 

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours. 

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done. 

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.” 

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.” 

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.” 

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough. 

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough. 

Of course, lover. 

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them. 

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #reader essentially became soul bound to him womp womp #don't drink a vampire's blood kids #i really didn't edit that intensely i spent two hours fucking with photoshop #if it's bad it's bad #finally dipping my toes into kas!eddie tho wahoo #vampire!eddie munson #someone requested eddie with this song forever ago but i lost the ask #eddie reading dracula to figure out if he's become a vampire is actually so fucking funny to me

[genderlessghoul]

I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.

Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.

The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)

The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).

Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.

He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!

The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.

Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.

The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.

The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.

An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.

Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.

The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)

The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.

The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.

Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghost #dewdrop ghost #rain ghost #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #rain ghoul #phantom ghost #dewdrop ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #cumulus ghost #aether ghost #aeon ghoul #impera ghoul #impera #meerkat talks about ghost costumes #IMPERA FIT MASTER POST LET'S GOOOO

[reasonsforhope]

"Colorado is poised to be the first state to to expand automatic voter registration to Native American reservations, thanks to a new registration system.

Tribal members have the right to vote in elections, from the local to the national level, just like other U.S. citizens. But actually casting a ballot has been an uphill battle for many tribal residents, including those here in Colorado. Even after obtaining official U.S. citizenship a century ago, Native Americans’ ability to vote has been consistently ignored or actively undermined. In recent decades, unequal access to in-person voting, early voting and election funding on tribal lands has been a particular issue...

Working with Colorado tribes, state lawmakers passed a set of election reforms earlier this year to expand voting access for Native Americans. Those reforms include the nation’s first automatic voter registration program of its kind for Native Americans. The program will cover both of the federally-recognized Native American reservations in the state—the Southern Ute Indian Tribe and the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe, and will allow the tribes’ governments to submit lists of members to be registered through the Secretary of State Jena Griswold’s office.

Griswold said the new registration system could make a big difference for Colorado's tribal communities.

"Seeing registration rates and turnout rates being much, much lower on tribal lands is a big problem that we want to solve,” Griswold said. “I personally believe automatic voter registration is one of the best ways to register voters in the state of Colorado, and all of our data shows how highly effective it is.”

Colorado is one of more than two dozen states that have automatic voter registration systems, but Colorado is the only state so far to extend its system to cover Native American reservations. When Colorado rolled out its system for the first time in 2020, about 250,000 people were added to the state’s voter rolls within the first year.

Now, [Secretary of State] Griswold hopes the new registration program will have a similar effect on tribal lands in the state. She wants to see the program in place in time for the 2024 election. For now, tribal leadership is reviewing the plan and providing feedback on it.

“It will not take us much time to register people once we start receiving data,” Griswold told KUNC. “But I think there's a couple of logistics to still work through.”

Measures to keep tribal members' information confidential were added recently at the request of the Southern Ute tribe, and lawmakers have also increased the number of on-reservation vote centers available for early voting and on Election Day.

This year’s election reforms also build on a slew of changes in recent years. For example, in 2019 Colorado lawmakers guaranteed in-person voting centers on tribal lands and loosened address requirements for voters."

-via GoodGoodGood, December 15, 2023

#colorado #native american #indigenous #first nations #indigenous rights #native american rights #united states #us politics #automatic voter registration #voter registration #election 2024 #2024 election #voting access #democrats #voting matters #voting #voting rights #ute #good news #hope

[rationaliity]

my turn | gallagher & dr. ratio x f! reader ( 18+ )

requested !! ratio and gallagher are roommates, that's so totally normal right ? ratio takes time to tutor you, and gallagher.. helps you destress about school and work. gallagher may not be able to help you with tutoring, but ratio can help you destress. tags : dubcon in the beginning ( turns into consent ) threesome, double penetration, oral ( f. receiving ), arguing, use of a blindfold & handcuffs, slight possessiveness, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, dirty talking, mean gallagher at points, calls you a bitch, whore, slut, ect but also nicknames like doll, princess, sweetheart, dearest, begging / whining / crying, slightly painful sex, kinda throwing reader around like a doll, implied to be smaller than ratio & gallagher, fem anatomy word count : 5.5k

your relationships with your roommates weren't exactly the normal college roommate situation. of course, in some parts of your life, it was. you three would argue over who did the dishes that day, even with veritas' schedule that he posted on a white board in the kitchen without telling either one of you. he had said that he thought about the three of your schedules and decided which days would work best for all of you. and he was right, he really did think about your schedules and made the best plan possible, which maybe irked you even more than if he had just written down names on the whiteboard haphazardly.

there would be times where you'd all be sat on the couch watching the latest and worst romcom to poke fun of it, and whoever tapped out first had to cook dinner. funnily enough, most of the time it was gallagher, he could hardly ever stand to watch two people pine after each other for an hour and a half without finding himself getting frustrated and yelling ' they should just fuck already ! ' at the tv. he'd stand up, tearing himself from where he was sitting beside you and immediately start on dinner, because he knew that he'd lost the game.

of course there were other similarities between the three of you and regular roommates, but it was the differences that you found yourself hooked on. veritas was in your year, and although he was taking classes far beyond the scope of your own, he still demanded that he helped tutor you whenever you were struggling in a particular subject, no matter what that subject was. you made plans that every thursday while gallagher was out at work all day working a double at the bar, you and veritas would take the living room and study the day away together. whether you were tackling mathematics or physics or literature, if you had a question, veritas usually had an answer. and if he didn't, he had a book that could answer your question.

veritas had a rough around the edges personality, but you could tell that he really cared about people, even if he didn't explicitly state it. or at least, he cared about you and your education. he was always snapping at you, telling you that you should at least go to bed before the sun rises, and maybe stop drinking so much coffee. if he was home, or if you saw him at college, he was always reminding you of things that you should be doing to take proper care of yourself. at college, when he was free from his classes, he followed you around, not because he didn't have any friends, but because he thought you needed someone to look after you with your self destructive behavior. so he says, at least.

and gallagher.. was a different story all together. he went to a technical college on the other side of the city, but he got the weekends off while you and veritas went to school. you would get back at around noon on both days, and veritas had classes pretty much all day until late at night, having stacked up his weekends with extracurricular activities that he didn't necessarily need, but they sure would look nice on his transcript. in those seven or eight hours while veritas was away, you were underneath gallagher in his bed.

you had no idea when it officially started to become a habit to spend your weekend crying out gallagher's name, but neither one of you were complaining, either. you knew that it started out of boredom on your part, and a nasty ex on his part. he had been pissed and frustrated, and you let him vent his anger out to you, and listened to him try very hard not to shit talk his ex because he didn't really want to say anything negative about her, but damn did she make it hard for him to keep calm. keying his cherry red vintage mustang and putting sugar in the tank was his last straw. he eventually emptied out his gas tank and replaced the fuel filter, and repainted his car with a iridescent black / purple coat this time, but damn did it take some work and quite a lot of money.

but through the entire situation, you were there to support him when he needed it. as it goes, one thing lead to another, and what was supposed to be both a celebration toast and a thank you from gallagher ended up with your clothes being dropped in the hallways outside of his room and his body pressed against yours, rushing to finish because you both knew that veritas was going to be home soon. since then, it had become sort of like a ritual of yours.

you trudged through the doors, dropping your bag at the door, completely missing the hook this time where you typically hung the bag. throwing off your shoes at the door, and undoing the claw clip that held up your hair, you were exhausted today. and you knew exactly what you needed, he was in his room probably playing some video game that he really didn't care about and neither did you.

stripping off your college blazer, you dropped it off at your room, already working to unbutton the buttons of your white dress shirt when you walked into gallagher's room, the room itself smelling so heavily of weed it gagged you for a second, but you had gotten used to gallagher's peculiarities by now. exactly like how you expected him to be, gallagher was spread out on his bed with a controller in his hands, playing some gacha game with a blonde traveller and their little fairy companion, a cute little game that you had to make a mental note to check out later after this.

" welcome home, " gallagher said while he sat down his controller, eyeing your slumped form as you stood in front of his bed, " school went well, i'm guessin' ? "

" school sucked, " you sighed, climbing into the bed with him before you could even get off your fully unbuttoned shirt, the fabric just hanging on your shoulders. gallagher laughed a little bit, opening his arms to take you in his arms.

" need something to relieve the stress ? " he suggested gently, holding you close to him. " you know, i was thinkin' of you the entire time you were gone. "

you couldn't lie to yourself and pretend that you weren't thinking about this moment the entire day, either, but you wouldn't exactly be as forthcoming about it as gallagher was. " mm. stress relief sounds nice. "

" you know, sweetheart, " gallagher's voice sounded like he was about to suggest something that he knew you would be on the fence about, but it wasn't like him to just completely ignore what he was curious about. " i was at the store the other day and i picked up a few things for you. mind if we try them out today ? " he picked himself up, still holding you in his arms so you were just kind of following his movements as he opened up his beside dresser and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a red blindfold.

you raised your eyebrows, a mix of curiosity and confusion on your face. " i didn't take you to be one to try bdsm, gallagher. you always took me as a, uh, no thoughts, head empty, just fucking type of guy. "

" oh, absolutely, doll, " gallagher laughed, fiddling with the silk blindfold, twirling the soft fabric through his calloused hands. " you have absolutely no idea how easy it is to lose myself when i'm eight inches deep inside that pretty little pussy of yours. consider it a.. test, for both of us. "

" ugh, i've had enough tests for today, " you whined at the wording, being reminded of just how shitty your day at college was, but at least you were home now, and in gallagher's arms, which meant that even though things sucked previously, they would be okay pretty soon, and you'd forget about it all when you were crying out for him to stop because it was overstimulating you. " but.. we can try it for a little bit today. we've got a long time until i have to get back into my room, so i guess it doesn't hurt anything if our first few rounds are experimental. "

" i knew ya'd see it my way, baby, " gallagher grinned, shuffling around a little bit so that your back was pressed against his flat pillows, barely giving you any structure, and one day you're going to fuck in your room instead so you're a little more comfortable, but you weren't exactly thinking about that right now. " here, put your wrists together and up over your head, doll. "

you did as he said, feeling the cold metal of the handcuffs as he wrapped them around both of your wrists, hearing them click shut as he tightened them so they fit your wrists.

" you look so pretty like this, needin' me to do everythin' for ya, " gallagher chuckled, mostly to himself, as he leaned down and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your lips. " you're doing so good, doll. " he pulled back to grab the silken blindfold, wrapping it around your head so that it was completely covering your eyes. " can't see nothin', right baby ? "

you felt your heart rate increase a little bit, suddenly the anxiety of not being able to see and touch him getting to you ever so slightly, but it was overshadowed by a surprising desire to continue. " y-yeah, i can't see anything. "

" good girl, " gallagher pressed another kiss on your lips, making you jump in surprise, but he pulled back before you could kiss him back. " i'll be right back, doll. just sit tight, you'll feel good soon. " leaving you with your hands over your head and handcuffed together, unable to see what was going on around you, you could only feel his body weight shift the bed underneath you. you didn't know where he went, the carpet muffling any footsteps that might have been audible to you if it were tile, leaving you in anticipation.

after a few moments of waiting, you could feel the bed dip again as his body get on the bed and in between your legs. " g-gallagher- " you whimpered out softly, finding yourself struggling against the handcuffs that you had honestly forgotten were around your wrists. " o-oh, yeah.. " you mumbled mostly to yourself, biting your bottom lip.

wordlessly, his fingers worked at your pants, undoing the button and unzipping them. he leaned down, his soft lips ghosting over your navel, right above your panties, before he tugged your pants off of your legs. he was sensual with it, his hands trailing down your now bare legs, something that you weren't entirely used to gallagher doing, but you figured that maybe the change in your usual routine was getting him extra worked up.

you could feel his fingers trail up your legs, wrapping two strong arms around your thighs and pulling them apart, so that he had enough room to slot himself in between your legs, close enough that his mouth was so close to your cunt, that was now so lewdly leaking slick that soaked through your panties. gallagher was typically a very vocal man, so it was surprising that he was so quiet now, but by this point you were finding it hard to think straight, especially when he peeled your panties to the side and you could feel his breath fan against your soaked heat.

" n-ngh..! just- get to it already, please ! " you stammered out, sounding a lot more desperate than demanding. as if on cue, finally he gave into you, burying his face into your heat, his tongue expertly working circles around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. " f-fuck..! " you cried out, your hips bucking into his face, seeking more friction. he seemed to oblige your needs, his tongue working faster, his plump lips slippery with your slick, sliding through your folds perfectly.

gallagher had never eaten you out like this. yeah, he was good at it, but he opted for a lazier approach, flicking his tongue against your clit, drawing out small, slow circles as his fingers found its way to your entrance. he was not doing any of that right now, instead, the way he ate you out was like he was a starving man who had never tasted anything more delicious. he was meticulous with it, every flick of his tongue, every lick and touch designed and planned to draw out the most moans from you.

" h-hah- fu-fuck, wh-what's gotten into you ? " you panted out through loud moans, your thighs shaking underneath his rough touch. all you could do was buck your hips up into his mouth, the pleasure building inside of you and needing to release, faster than you were expecting. maybe it was just the stress finally leaving your body, or maybe it was just the isolation of two of your senses highlighting your other senses, but you swore this felt better than it typically did. " g-gonna cum- please- " you felt your chest rising and falling heavily, your heart thumping against your torso.

" just like that, yeah, pretty thing ? want his fingers inside of your pretty cunt ? " gallagher asked, his voice coming from your side, making you jump up in realization that something was up. you heard a grunt of annoyance in between your legs, and you gasped.

" wh-wha- ?! "

" who knew the doc could eat pussy like that, huh ? " gallagher chuckled, cutting you off, and you felt a lump form in your throat, slowly coming to understand what position you were in despite the haze and neediness in your head. " you look like you're havin' fun, doll. ain't you to close to stop now ? let him take you over the edge, i think he deserves to hear your pretty lil moans for all his hard work. "

the man in between your legs, veritas, continued his ministrations, and the fact alone that this was veritas ratio in between your legs made your body tense up, the eroticism of the situation only heightening your pleasure, especially underneath his skilled tongue. gallagher was right, annoyingly, you were far too close to actually care who was in between your legs, as long as he was able to make you finish. " v-veri- ah, veritas.. " you moaned out shyly, his name falling from your lips both unfamiliar and yet comforting. " i'm gonna cum- please..! "

veritas didn't say anything, too busy coaxing your orgasm from you to properly address anything at the moment. now that their little secret was out, you could feel gallagher's hand on your chest, the digits slipping underneath your bra to fondle your chest, rolling your nipple in between his two fingers, eliciting noises from you with the added pleasure that you weren't even sure you could make. everything was adding together in such a way that you simply couldn't hold back anymore, the pressure in your body too much until your entire body shook from your orgasm ripping through you.

veritas' tongue didn't stop his assault on you, guiding you through your orgasm, your slick absolutely covering his face. you whimpered softly for him to stop after the sensitivity got to, wiggling your hips in attempt to push him away, which he finally did after he got a few more moments in between your legs.

finally able to think straight, you found yourself speaking up, your voice strained as you tried to regain your composure even slightly, but failing miserably. " i-i think- i think i deserve answers. why is veritas here ? "

" he wanted a taste, why else, doll ? " gallagher chuckled, his hand pulling away from your chest. " you should see him, all covered with your juices and panting. he damn near drowned in there and is still wanting more. " you were honestly a little frustrated that you couldn't see him like that, but that wasn't something you were going to say out loud.

" you're as... candid as ever, gallagher, " veritas finally spoke up, obviously out of breath, but trying to maintain himself. when he spoke again, it was directed to you, " did you not think i was aware of this little routine of yours with gallagher ? you're as foolish as you are naive. of course i would know what's going on in my own home. "

his thinly veiled insults were not lost on you, but you decided not to reply in a mean way and start an argument right now, especially when you were at the mercy of these two men. " how did you find it out then, genius ? "

" you two don't know how to properly dispose of condoms. i found at least four of them while trying to take out the trash because a certain man forgot it was his day to take it out, " you could practically feel the glare that veritas was shooting gallagher in between his words, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling a little bit at it. these two were so different, and always at each other's throats. but to be fair, you were often at their throats for one reason or another, too. at the end of the day, no matter how much sexual tension was shared between you, you were still roommates. and roommates are always frustrating, no matter the circumstances.

you were just roommates, right ?

" well my little.. mistake, shall we call it, got you in between the legs of the girl you wanted to fuck for a year now, so.. i think you can forgive me just this once, veritas, " gallagher snickered, clearly not one to be bullied down by veritas' condescension. but before you could say anything back to them to get them to stop bickering with one another, gallagher's arms picked you up into his arms, your locked hands hooking behind his head as he held you up against him, his hard cock rubbing up from behind you through his clothing. " and now we're gonna make her feel even better, cuz i can't wait to be inside this fuckin' pussy again. you had your turn, veritas. thanks for warmin' her up for me, now watch me do what i do best. "

you were dangling in the air, your feet unable to touch the ground, held up by gallagher's strong arms underneath your pits, keeping you completely suspended against him. you knew he was strong, but this was ungodly. you couldn't even feel his muscles straining, it was like it was effortless. he really did have the strength of a bear. was he really going to fuck you standing up, dangling in the air just like this ?

" ..tch, like hell i'm just going to watch. i'm not like you and get off watching others touch what's undeniably mine. " you could hear some movement, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt gallagher grinding against you, bucking his hips up in an attempt to rile you up more than you already were. " sit her down here- " you could hear veritas slapping his thighs, and you could only assume that he had taken his clothing off. " i think i know of a way that we can both enjoy what we want. "

after a moment, gallagher chuckled, his grip on you readjusting a little bit. " i like the way you think, veritas. but do you really think she can handle us both ? "

" i don't think she has a choice but to take it, does she ? "

gallagher finally sat you down, treating you almost like an actual doll, sitting you down on veritas' lap, making sure your legs were spread and straddling the other man's. you could feel the hardness pressing against your still slick cunt, practically begging for entry no matter how calm veritas' words were. " i don't think she's got any arguments, either, otherwise she would've said somethin', yeah ? "

that was his way of getting consent, no matter how slightly convoluted and slutty it sounded coming from his mouth, you knew that much. still, your pride refused to let you give out just a simple answer, still a little frustrated with them for this whole set up in the first place. if veritas wanted to fuck you, he could've just asked. it's not like you would've told the man no. " it's not like you're exactly giving me a choice, are you ? veritas said- "

before you could finish speaking, a hand grabbed you by the back of your head, pushing you down onto veritas' lips, effectively shutting you up. you could taste yourself on his lips from earlier, the salty and tangy taste on your tongue reminding you of his skills with his mouth. his tongue slipped past your lips, and you opened your mouth, slightly caught off guard but having enough time to pick yourself up. his hips grinded slowly into yours, making you both groan into the kiss. your hands, still connected together, rest on his chest, your ass arched up, giving gallagher the perfect view of what he wanted.

" finally, " veritas mumbled against your lips, sounding almost desperate, although he quickly composed himself, " a way to shut you up for good. "

" you just wanted to kiss her, " you felt the bed dip, and a pair of hands grabbed at your ass, fondling the fat in his hands. " but i get it, and i aint faultin' you for it. you just gotta learn how to be more truthful with whatcha want. "

you could tell that veritas absolutely hated that gallagher was controlling everything, but he was powerless to stop it at this time, and instead of fighting, he knew the path of least resistance would give him what he wanted in the end, he just had to bare through gallagher's mouth.

" now, can we get to the good part and fuck her already ? she's wet enough from earlier, she can take it, " his voice was snappy, letting everyone know that he was getting impatient and didn't want to wait any longer, one of gallagher's hands moved from your ass to grab his cock, pressing it against your slit, rubbing some of your slick on the tip before he slowly pushed in, needing to pace himself from absolutely plowing you on top of veritas. he had agreed to share you for now, so he wouldn't do that to veritas. at least not right now.

once he was fully sheathed inside, you gasped, moaning out, your body clenching around him like a vice, begging for more. you leaned your head back, resting it on veritas' shoulder, your locked hands grabbing at his bare chest for some type of support, although you couldn't find any. " g-gallagher..! " you mewled out, already feeling too full with just gallagher inside. there was no way that you were going to be able to fit veritas too- you'd be split in half, you'd-

one of veritas' hands stayed at the back of your head, and the other one snaked in between your legs, pressing his throbbing erection against your stuffed hole. " you can take it, " he grunted out, pushing just the tip in, finding the resistance of your body so irresistible. he wanted to actually ruin you, make you cry on his chest and beg for both of them to stop.

" i-it's too much..! i-i can't, there's no way ! it's gonna break me.. please, veritas- " you whimpered, your incessant babbling just fueling veritas on more. gallagher was clearly not pleased that you were calling out veritas' name instead of his, and decided to punish you with a particularly harsh thrust.

" you're lucky i'm bein' patient right now, bitch, " gallagher spat out, his fingertips digging into the skin of your hips. this was like a complete switch of the otherwise cool and calm gallagher that you knew, but you had to admit that you liked it a little more than you were willing to admit. but your body told against you, clenching around him at his lewd words, only spurring him on to degrade you more. " just fuckin' put it in so we can make this slut cry already, damn. there's no point in bein' gentle with her right now. she ain't gonna take it if you keep tryin' to be gentle. just force it in. "

you could practically feel the anger emanating from veritas, not needing your vision to know that he was absolutely fuming, and you were caught in between their little discourse. you were starting to think that this was less about fucking you and more about proving themselves to each other. " fine, mutt, have it your way, " veritas growled, his hand tightening on your hair, pulling it back so your head was back, giving him access to your neck. with one single thrust, he pushed himself completely inside, causing you to scream out in pure ecstasy.

hot tears bubbled up in your eyes, soaking the red silk fabric, and you felt yourself clawing at veritas' skin, making him groan out from both the pain and pleasure. it was too much, far too much, you were filled up completely, unable to take anymore, but they hadn't even started to move yet. the first movement came from gallagher, lazily rocking his hips in and out of you, clearly pleased with the tightness squeezing his cock. " fuck- she's so fuckin' tight, even more so than usual. "

veritas began to move next, each thrust calculated in time with gallagher so not to overwhelm you completely. you knew that this moment of peace was just temporary, however. now they got a taste, and they were not going to just go easy on you. gallagher broke it first, his hips thrusting up to meet yours so roughly that it took your breath away. veritas followed suit, not to be outdone with the older man.

" gal- veri- " you started, completely unsure which name to moan out, and fucked too stupid to truly be able to say anything coherent through your cries and whimpers of pleasure. both men laughed a little, both fighting to be the name that ultimately spilled out of your pretty lips.

veritas' free hand was in between your bodies, rubbing circles on your sore clit, knowing exactly how you liked it from earlier. you felt your entire body freeze, unable to do anything but cry, shaking as you were sandwiched in between both brutal men. veritas knew exactly what he was doing, he knew how to move inside to maximize your pleasure, his thrusts deep and forceful, while gallagher fucked like a wild animal, only really thinking about how good his cock felt when buried deep inside of you. this mix of logic and pure instinct drove you wild, tears soaking the fabric of the blindfold over your eyes as veritas' free hand pulling your hair, the pain dulled compared to the pure pleasure you were feeling.

it was absolutely brutal, and you could feel your belly bulging from the intrusion of both men inside of you. it was too good, and your head was swimming with only one thought: you had to cum, and soon. it was all beginning to be too much, your body tense and quivering. gallagher's body practically on top of yours at this point, his chest pressed against your back as he breathed in your ear, letting you hear every animalist growl that came from his throat, his little grunts of pleasure as he fucked you like he'd want to be buried inside of you forever.

" g-gonna..- gunna cum.. please, please- " you sobbed, your breath hitching in your throat, your body shaking from the pure overstimulation. veritas' fingers against your clit rubbed faster, and gallagher's hand found your throat, squeezing the sides.

" gonna cum on our cocks, doll ? " gallagher teased, his hips hitting yours with a fervor, " gonna make a mess on top of veritas ? on my bedsheets ? you look so small in between two men like this, huh ? filthy whore gonna lose herself on two cocks ? can't even think straight. he's your tutor, right ? go on, show him what you've learned from me. how to shut up and take dick like a good girl. "

you whimpered, your tongue lolled out, drool slipping from it onto veritas' chest below. " she looks so dumb, the blindfold is all wet from her tears like she can't do anything without crying. it's like all i taught her was for nothing when cock is involved. " veritas agreed, his voice hoarse as he fucked into you. the first time he'd agreed with gallagher this entire time and it was over how dumb you looked while getting fucked by both of them. when you didn't say anything back to either one of them, veritas chuckled a little bit, his eyes taking in your fucked out face. " what happened ? can't even think of anything to say ? too stupid to even remember how to speak properly ? "

" oh, fuck- i'm gonna cum- " gallagher announced, picking up speed and intensity, his teeth grazing against your neck and biting down harshly, making you cry out in pain. it wasn't enough to break the skin, but you could feel his extra sharp canine teeth embedding itself into your skin, surely going to at least bruise you. " gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, gonna make her ours. " at this point he wasn't even saying full sentences, just chasing his high. " mine, ours. yours. fuck. ours, ours. ours. pretty little thing is ours. "

" yours- " you sobbed out, your voice barely more than a whisper, too fucked out to even make noises more than whimpers and moans. your little voice seemed to spur gallagher into his orgasm, his hips stuttering into yours as his orgasm flooded you, covering your walls and veritas' cock with his semen.

" fu-fuck, that's too good, doll, your body is too good, " gallagher groaned, pulling out of you, finally letting go of your neck. he took notice of veritas still embedded within you, and mentally made note of it. " damn, he's still goin', huh ? when was the last time you had any pussy, veritas ? "

" this tight ? " veritas managed to choke out, his thrusting up into you with unabashed roughness now that he was the only one inside, able to fill you up to the hilt of his cock. " i'm gonna cum- and soon, there's no way i can hold back with her like this. can you take it, sweetheart ? can i fill you up too ? "

you nodded, feeling him go harder against you, all of the logic and coordination he had flying into the wind now that he was just seconds away from cumming. he didn't talk dirty like gallagher did, but you knew he was losing his cool, with the way his thrusts got more erratic and rushed, driving him over his own edge.

part of you was honestly grateful that it was done, the other part of you felt empty the moment veritas pulled out of you, the suddenness of no longer have either men filling you up causing you to whimper a little bit.

" aw, she wants us some more, " gallagher chuckled, and you rolled from on top of veritas, content just to sit beside him and rest for a little while. veritas was careful with you, reaching over and taking off the blindfold, being the first thing that you saw when you opened your wet, teary eyes, squinting because you needed to get used to the light again.

" you're so good, dearest, " veritas whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, taking your hands in his and undoing the handcuffs. you knew that they were the just the play handcuffs that you could've easily escaped from, not even needing a lock to undo them, but you also weren't exactly thinking about escaping from them at the time, too consumed with something else.

" thank ya, doll, " gallagher interjected, collapsing on your other side, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a few kisses onto your neck, slightly gentler where he had bitten you. " does it hurt ? "

you paused, your eyebrows creasing together. you couldn't help but be angry at him over this, and veritas for that fact. the sex was nice, but damn, can't a girl get a warning first ? " YES IT FUCKING HURT ?! YOU BIT ME ?? AND MR. RATIO HERE JUST SHOVED HIS FUCKING COCK IN ME WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD ??? " you chewed them both out over this, glaring at both of the men. veritas turned a little sheepish, although he wouldn't show it, while gallagher just gently laughed it off.

" you took it so well, though, dearest, " veritas hummed, turning to rest on his side so that he was face to face with you, his hand cupping the side of your cheek. he was surprisingly gentle, much more than gallagher was. " thank you for indulging the two of us. "

" well, i'll make sure we take care of you extra, now, alright ? to make up for it. " gallagher suggested, and you rolled your eyes, sitting your head on veritas' shoulder, closing your eyes.

" you guys are assholes. and i'm not doing the fuckin' dishes today, so you two fight among yourselves about it since you wanna argue during sex the entire time. like, geez. just admit that you wanted to out do each other and maybe kiss a little. "

" by the way, how did you fare on your physics exam ? " of course veritas would ask that when you had just managed to forget about your day at college.

" OH FUCK OFF, VERITAS. "

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai sr #dr ratio #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #veritas ratio #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai gallagher #hsr gallager #gallagher honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #gallagher smut #gallagher x reader smut #gallagher x reader #gallagher #veritas ratio smut #veritas ratio x reader #hsr veritas #veritas x reader

[killerlookz]

heyyy💋 so could i request a fic where reader is an eurovision contestant and basically her & joost are attached to the hip. they are seen being all cuddly with each other, flirting, sitting as close to each other as possible, the cameras catching your non so secret glances.. generally acting like a couple. but when the press asks you about this whole situation, you both deny that you have something going on between you two, but deep down you know that those gestures are not so “innocent” at all🤭🤭

a/n: ooooh i love a cheeky little secret romance!! thank you for the request anon <3

Just Friends | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, very brief allusion to sex, joost and reader are so down bad for each other its a little pathetic, mostly fluff, some angst if you look at it under a microscope. this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 2128

You sit on the edge of your hotel bed, you smile, your cheeks grow hot, letting out a small breath from your nose, replacing a genuine laugh.

Your phone sits in your lap, opened to a message

Joost Klein: When were you planning to tell me that I'm your secret lover 😓

What followed was a screenshot from some European tabloid sight, headed by: Eurovision Contestants Spotted Getting Cozy: Secret Lovers Revealed?!

Below were two grainy photos of you and Joost, taken just moments apart from each other. Taken from behind, they showed the two of you walking side by side, just outside the hotel you were staying in. It would have looked more like a friendly exchange if your hands hadn't been locked together.

You knew you'd have to explain everything eventually, that was the third headline this week that had come out about you and Joost. Another showed the two of you sharing a hug that looked a little too close for it to be friendly, in another you had a hand planted on his chest, and your head tilted back mid-laugh.

It all seemed a little ridiculous. You knew Eurovision was one of the largest events in all of Europe- but still, you couldn't have imagined how interested people would be in your personal life off the stage.

It was nothing too scandalous anyway, you and Joost had known each other prior to Eurovision. And sure, you were more casual friends, despite being from different countries, the two of you had run in similar circles with music and all. You had spent the last few years admiring each other's music, usually from afar, the times the two of you had genuinely hung out before all this were few and far between. Your conversations were usually reserved for more chaotic moments, either backstage at the end of a show or in the crowd for a musician friend the two of you had in common.

You couldn't exactly explain away all of the touchy-touchy stuff, but you never expected that you would have to, it had just always been like that, ever since you first met. Truthfully, the two of you were closer than the tabloid photos led on. But they didn't have to know that.

Hasty fingers tap at your phone screen

apparently it's so secret that i didn't know it either!

You send your response to Joost before closing your phone and tossing it somewhere on the bed. You lay back, landing on the firm mattress with a small bounce.

Your eyelids are lowered, trying your best to keep focus on the woman in front of you through heavy lids- though it seems impossible with the crisp white LEDs shining in your face.

"So, have you made any connections with any other contestants since you've been here in Malmö?" The woman asks, a curious eyebrow-raising as she guides the microphone in her hands in front of your face.

You know exactly what she wants to hear from you, the hunger is evident in her eyes, she licks her lips in desperation for a scoop, before her mouth pulls into a sly smile, it all feels so predatory. You swallow thickly, shifting a quick gaze toward the cameraman before flicking your eyes back to the reporter, who has an equally as hungry look on his face, and you realize, you are their prey.

"Yeah, absolutely," You nod, your face lights up, "I've honestly really connected with Bambi Thug, they're really bringing such a new and innovative sound to Eurovision, I really admire them for that, and don't let the makeup and costumes fool you they are an absolute sweetheart!" It wasn't a lie, Joost was not the only person you had talked to since the competition started. You did make friends while you'd been here.

The journalist loses her grin, her face now twisted with dissatisfaction.

"Anyone else?" She asks, nearly cutting you off, her microphone still stuck in your face.

"Marina has been an absolute joy too," Your smile lingers on your lips, "And Nemo- they're great too!"

"Well," The journalist starts, facing the microphone back to her, "I think we've all been hearing the rumors about some sparks flying between you and the Dutch representative, Joost Klein, is there any truth to them?"

You're a little taken back by her forwardness to just outright ask the question,

"I wasn't aware of any rumors," You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in vehement denial, "But Joost is great too, we've known each other for a few years now, and I've been a big fan of his music, and he's a great friend." You breathe out, silently hoping the answer is satisfactory for the journalist to cease probing any further.

"No potential for anything more than a friendship?"

"Oh no," You shake your head, nearly scoffing as the words choke out of your mouth, and you hope you're as good of an actress as you are a singer, "Again, Joost is great, but he's just my friend."

"Alright," She nods her head slowly, unsatisfied. The way the journalist's eyes linger on you makes it clear she doesn't quite believe you- but it would be inappropriate of her to ask you any more questions on the matter.

"Would you like to talk about my music now?"

"I just don't know why they're acting like we had a sex tape leak- do these people not hug their friends?" You throw your hands up, frustrated. The last two days had been nothing but interviews, but it seemed none of the interviewers were as interested in your actual Eurovision performance as they were in potentially getting the first scoop on what was "going on" between you and Joost.

"I mean that would give them something to talk about," Joost chuckles, standing at the foot of your hotel bed, he's clad in nothing but a white tank top and his underwear. The tight fabric of what little he's wearing clings to his body, leaving just about nothing to the imagination. He ruffles a hand through his already messy hair. You'd wondered what the tabloids would say if they got a whiff of this, "All press is good press"

"Are you suggesting something, Mr. Klein?" You flash a look at him, your eyes piercing his. Your words come out much harsher than you had intended them to, you couldn't help it, your frustration was evident.

Joost placed a hand behind his neck, rubbing anxiously, throwing a sheepish look in your direction as to insinuate he had been suggesting something. You knew he was only joking, but the thought of actually doing such a thing made your face hot. A light pink blush burned on your face as you stared up at him.

"You're filthy," You giggle, and your hands latch on to a pillow that sits next to you, and you fling it in Joost's direction.

He takes a step back as the pillow hits him square in the stomach, a loud thump can be heard in the room as contact between his body and the stuffed object is made. He choked out a breath of surprise, and his face winced as he grabbed his stomach in feigned agony,

"How could you," He shakes his head, "I think you broke every single one of my ribs."

"Shush," You scoff, "C'mon, get over here." You pat the bed next to you, shifting yourself over to one side.

In typical Joost fashion, he practically jumps onto the bed. He adjusts himself in such a way that his shoulder is brushing up against yours. He's warm, and you want nothing more than to crawl into his arms. It was almost pitiful the way you wanted him, completely desperate. And yet, you don't dare to act- not right now.

The room falls silent as the both of you hesitate to say anything. The room is thick with a humid tension, and words left unsaid. Your reccolection of the last few days seemed non-existent yet ever-present at the same time. Everything had left you wondering the same exact questions as every journalist who had talked to you today, what was going on between you and Joost?

"I can feel the stress radiating off of you," Joost finally speaks, "Are you okay?"

You furrow your eyebrows, looking down into your lap where your fingers are not fidgeting and intertwined. Your face twitches.

"Are you really so upset about those interviews? Do you want to stop this, I can lea-"

"No," you cut him off all too quickly, "No stay. Please." Your voice had shriveled down to nothing but a pathetic whisper. As confusing as your feelings had been, the confusion seemed to be better than not having them at all. It was hard being away from home and feeling like you were bracing the weight of the world or at least of Europe against your shoulders. Joost, at least, was a source of comfort, something to come back to.

"Okay," He nods, his head moving up and down slowly.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't felt some sort of way about Joost before all of this. His affectionate nature with you seemed to cross all of the wires in your brain. He had always been affectionate with his close friends, not afraid to spare a hug or an arm around the shoulder when he felt like it, but with you it seemed different, especially taking into account neither of you would exactly consider the other as a "best friend."

Besides, even if you were, best friends don't usually stay up all night, lying on top of each other in some state of undress, lips hungrily pressed against one another. This whole situation had left you feeling like you were a teen again, the prickling feeling in your chest of excitement and anxiety of sneaking around to see a boy you liked. It was addicting, the adrenaline that flooded each and every inch of your body, as the two of you snuck off from the afterparties where your appearances were all but mandatory. You'd be lying if you said it didn't at least help a little to take the edge off of all the stress of the competition.

An arm snakes around your shoulder, and immediately Joost is clicking his tongue disapprovingly

"So tense," He mumbles, "Lay down, will you?" His voice is quiet, nearly pleading, and much more timid than you're used to. You feel compelled to oblige, spellbound, his soft words are like hypnosis.

Joost's arm slips from where it sits around your shoulder as you sink into the pillows below. You allow your body to relax into the support of the mattress.

A hand grazes your thigh, trailing down to your knee, Joost gives you a couple gentle taps, "Put your legs up, I'll pull down the blanket for you."

You oblige, bending your knees to pull them inward, and Joost hops off the bed for a moment, grabbing the thick white comforter in his hands from its neatly made position. You shift as he pulls it from under your body, allowing the blanket to slip down to your feet.

The bed dips as Joost crawls back to his position next to you. He reaches out to the foot of the bed, pulling the comforter up to cover the two of you.

"So," You start, rolling on your side, facing away from Joost, "Did they ask you about me?"

The blanket above you shifts as Joost adjusts himself to lie down next to you. He places a gentle hand against your hip, rubbing careful circles against the fabric that separates your skin from his. His chin rests upon your shoulder, and almost instinctively you nuzzle your cheek against his.

"Mhmm," His gentle hum vibrates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"What did you say?" You ask and your teeth clench, your eyes shut tight, waiting with anticipation for his response, hoping for it to line up with yours. You could only imagine the suspicion that would arise if the two of you were to have given entirely different answers to the same question.

"I told them we're friends, just friends."

Your jaw slacks at the relief, and you let out a sigh, eyes fluttering open. But something about those words coming from his mouth, just friends, as his words graze your ears your relief is coupled with a stinging feeling in your chest, a sharp reminder of the peculiar position you had found yourself in.

"And are we," You pause, "Just friends?"

Joost picks his head up from where it rests on your shoulder, ghosting the exposed flesh of your arm with a kiss.

"Not if you don't want us to be."

a/n: i added a pt. II to this, read it here!

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein fic #rpf