#but guys... that would change so much with both the dynamics between the classes and what happened at the USJ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aloneatpeace · 25 days ago

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𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

2. Brave or stupid

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.→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →. Let me know what you guys think about this chapter i have a lot of ideas that i want to throw it into the plot that doesn't feel forced and also want to have the dynamic with character feel natural in the ocs nature i hope I can do that have a good reading ❤️

Tw : body shaming ( don't do it if you see someone doing this to someone throw hands )

The next day you were alone in the bus to the school, Jun-tae had texted that he needed to something that he would be gone earlier than usual. You didn’t see him at the library either walking around the hallway you hear surprised whispers of your peers who all are rejoicing after receiving their lost phones.

That’s only makes you more paranoid, you know its Jun-tae and other guys are behind it they would steal the phones because of Hyo man makes them to do so. Jun-tae’s sudden invitation to eat lunch together and now this makes your theory true. He’s rebelling against Hyo-man but why suddenly? What made him or who made him change his mind to stand up against Hyo-man was really brave or stupid because his what he did comes with consequence that going ends with him getting hurt.

You hear rushed footsteps pass by the library loud enough for the librarian to grumble under her breath mutter how students have no discipline whatsoever. You hurriedly finish your work as well scrabbling to put the books that you took struggling to do under the watchful eyes of your librarian. You sprinted your class and place your notes in your table as you do your ear catches the girl’s words.

“My boyfriend just texted me saying there is fight at their side.”

“Really? Between who?”

“Choi Hyo-man and the transferred boy”

One of the girl’s eyes widen “Oh, the pyscho boy?”

“I heard that he killed his fellow student that why he came here.”

Another girl scoff “He didn’t kill, he sends that boy into a coma.”

Not waiting to hear any further you tread towards the boy’s section of the building, running up the stairs you almost pumps into a boy making you stumble back a hand clasp itself on your wrist steadying you briefly so silently you almost didn’t feel the touch.

Si-eun round brown hues falls your frame standing too close to him, he let his hands fall limp beside him after steadying you. eyes scanning as you gulp wide warm eye staring up at his cold ones stepping aside muttering apology for bumping on to him almost, you seem to do that a lot.

Jun-tae looks surprised at your sudden appearance he uttering your name making you glance at him and your apologetic eyes turns into worried one seeing beaten up Jun-tae. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m alright. He saved me back there.” Jun-tae said with smile that reached his eye looking at si-eun with a grateful look.

You glance at Si-eun and back at him, Jun-tae turns and open the slide door “What are you doing?. We’re going to see the nurse.”

“We can’t go to the nurse’s office.” Jun-tae walks inside you follow him si-eun stands outside for minute before following after the both of you.

You and Jun-tae sits down the floor while si-eun stands in front you both, opening the first aid you sit straight taking it from Jun-tae’s hands as he and Si-eun talks.

“Whenever, we go there the nurse realize what’s happened, so Hyo-man gets called to the teacher’s office all the time and we just get beaten up again. Its an endless cycle.”

You take a cotton swabs, q tip and fucidin cream and hands one to Jun-tae and Si-eun “Fucidin cream is pretty much an antibiotic” Jun-tae says using the mirror to lay it over his bruised cheek, when Si-eun didn’t take it, you hesitantly dab it on his bleeding knuckle making him look down at as you do so.

“You have to use it because, Hyo-man’s fists are like balls of germs.” You chuckle at Jun-tae words he too smiles at his comment.

“Why did you do it?” Si-eun asks you and Jun-tae turns to him “Why did you return all the phones?”

You glance back Jun-tae wanting to know the answer only to be confused when he answers “Newton’s third law. For every good action a good reaction follows.”

“What?” you scrunch your nose puzzled at his reasoning you don’t remembering Newton’s third law like that and it seems like si-eun is on same boat with you as he also looked confused for minute.

“That’s not what it means.” He says the three of you look at each other before you sigh setting the cream down inside the box.

“He’s not gonna sit down and do nothing.” You speak up making Jun-tae and Si-eun glance at you. “You two should be careful, Hyo-man is cunning.” Standing up you dust your skirt.

Jun-tae calls your name making you turns to him “it will be fine, Baku’s going to come back sooner or later. Gotak was there too.” He stands up as well. “Let’s sit together at lunch.” Jun-tae eyes shift from you and Si-eun the last words directed towards both of you.

You glance at Si-eun expectedly wanting to know that he’s comfortable too with the invitation and your intrusion. Si-eun feels the weight of yours and Jun-tae gaze on him making him sigh and nod. You and Jun-tae smile at that “Well, I see you guys at lunch. Take care.” With that you leave.

When the lunch time rolled in Si-eun watches Jun-tae eyes scan the crowed searching for you and he too wounder where you had gone. Si-eun catches Jun-tae eyes trained group of girls who is on the other side laughing and chatting as they have their lunch, Jun-tae take his phone out his pocket pressing your chat he sends texts but gets no response he slums in his chair Si-eun sits straight setting his utensils down.

“What is it?she not coming?”

Jun-tae glance up his from his phone “I should just call her.” he dials your number and in on the second ring you pick up. “Where are you?

Are you coming to lunch.

Oh, alright.

Did you eat anything?

Mmhm. I see you tomorrow then.”

Jun-tae slumps in his chair before picking up his utensils and staring to eat Si-eun waits for him to say what you told him feeling his gaze on him Jun-tae looks up “Oh she said she has work to submit, so she and her friends can go out to the mall after class. she also said you to eat well”

Si-eun was doing the opposite truthfully, making him look down his food before he glances at Jun-tae and then to the other side where the group of girls sat “Friends?”

Jun-tae nod sigh. After lunch they both walk towards their class Jun-tae steps rushed as he walks ahead reaching their classroom. He rummages through his bag while Si-eun’s eyes followed him, the break time isn’t over yet.

Jun-tae smile in relief after finding a chocolate bar he turns to Si-eun “I’ll be right back.” Si-eun nod knowing where he’s rushing to.

You sigh cracking your knuckles in satisfaction glancing at the assignment which is due today, “still got it.” you glance up hearing footsteps coming towards you fearing it’s the librarian who might have caught you taking Jun-tae’s call. But thankfully its Jun-tae himself who’s walking towards you.

“Jun-tae, what are you doing here?” he stands in front of you smiling he extend his hand offering a chocolate candy in palm.

“I’m sorry it all I have, and don’t say you have eaten. I know you didn’t.” Jun-tae places the candy in front of you, smiling warmly at his gesture you take it and opening the candy eat it one go.

“Sorry I couldn’t eat with lunch with you guys.” You stand gathering your material in your hands Jun-tae shake his head and walk along side.

“Are you really going to the mall after class?” Jun-tae ask carefully, eyes scanning your face he feels himself get flustered enthusiastically nodding heading bobbing with a wide smile.

“Yes, we are. And I’m thinking if I should get my nails done or buy something. It going to be fun they said we can try out dresses.” Your eyes lit up as you ramble about what you and your friends are going out.

“Why not do both since you want both?” Jun-tae asks as you both round the hallway to the teacher office.

“I want to but since its planned suddenly I don’t have much money.” You set the assignment on the teacher’s table.

Jun-tae feels your hand clasping on his wrist before he can pull out his wallet you glare at him playfully “don’t even think about it. you need to buy bandage and proper medicine, it might swell.” With your hands still clasped on his wrist the both of you walkout the teacher’s office.

Jun-tae’s ear and neck turns red at touch of your hand “Oh, what happened why are you so red?” you tilt your head to side lowering your head to look at his face which he hides by looking down.

“I’m alr—alright.” Jun-tae stutter through his word avoiding your eye the shrilling sound bell ringing making you sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

He nods walking back stumbling over his own foot making you look at him worried he just smiles walking away. Shrugging it off you walk towards your classroom already excited evening.

When the evening arrived you, Yuri, mina and sara take the bus to the nearest mall. Mina and sara sit across from you while you and Yuri sits together scrolling on her phone

You glance at her with a smile, eyes shining in excitement at the thought of sharing something with your friends “Should we all get like matching clips?”

“That is so basic and cliché you know.” she says without looking up from her phone her fingers rapidly typing on the screen and you hear Sara and mina laughing making you glance at them. you sigh nodding along.

When you reach the mall, they walk ahead you drag your feet slightly exhausted shoulders feeling heavy they walk into cloth store looking through you too follow going through racks of clothes all are slightly pricy but everything looks so beautiful that you lost yourself and find yourself picking up a flowy light purple dress with long bell sleeves and square neckline pulling out in rack you feel material and price is reasonable its such a pretty dress.

You walk to the counter where you can hear their voice chatting Mina look surprised to see you as if she forgot that you even were with them before her eyes falls on the dress on your hands “Oh I thought you left us all alone?” the two turns at her word to look at you they look surprised as well.

You shake your head with a smile “I found this dress, isn’t it pretty.?” Mina nods taking the dress from your hand.

“It is but I don’t think this is your color at all” she pouts “and I don’t think its gonna you know…. fit”

Your face fall but you shake your head “No its my size and my mom made my uniform bit loose. I think its gonna fit perfectly.” You glance at cashier women “Maybe I can try it on, I’ll just ask her.”

Mina gives the dress to Yuri “Did you want to buy hairclip; we can do that while they wait at the counter. They will ask for you right?” she glance at them they exchange a look before nodding.”

Mina hooks her arms on yours pulling you away from the store before you can answer, you look through various ones all look so pretty and cute, you pick one holding it up to show mina who’s busy typing away on her phone. “Should I get this” she glances up before nodding.

When the two of you walks back to them, they are already out of the store with bags in their hands “Oh you guys didn’t have to pay for that?”

Yuri looks at you with sigh “We didn’t buy, we left it the counter to try on our dress but someone else took it.”

“Yeah, we looked everywhere. We couldn’t find it.” Sara said “We should go it’s getting dark.” Mina nod taking the bag Yuri held out in her direction. They start walking you follow them with heavy heart you glance at the store one last time.

Your steps were heavy as you walk through the street to your home shoulder heavy as your back bag pulling you down along with exhaustion and sadness weighted swinging the small paper bag that has your hairclip in your hands your movement slow down when you hear a footsteps behind you turning back you see a guy from your neighborhood that weird one you always hated you quickly take your phone out thankfully you have enough battery left make phone call. You call your mom she answers on the second ring she isn’t home yet ask you if your reached home you mumble last part not wanting the guy to hear. The footsteps now closer making you feel angered and scared at the same time you want to turns to yell at him but at the same time you can’t.

The two boys sitting outside the store looks up at sudden footsteps rushing past them into the store, they recognizes the uniform your wearing they go back to what they were doing but that cut off by when they hear shuffling of feet they look up to see a guy standing at side of the street looking at the store they follow his line of sight and see you inside talking into your phone nodding into your phone you pick up a packet of chip and walks to the cashier not so subtlety glancing outside.

One hand gripping the snack along with a paper bag and other hand gripping on your phone you step out the store before starting speedwalking to your home not sparing glance to anywhere but ahead, you hear the footsteps behind you after few minutes then you almost breaking into a sprint you hear the footsteps coming up fast then there is some shuffling and then nothing you don’t look back and starts and break into a sprint dropping things in your hands you round just as you round the corner you turn to look back all you see two guys their face hidden as one stands Infront of the other while other one crouched on the floor as he pick up the things you left behind with bloody knuckles.

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sundew199 · 11 months ago

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Times Two

a/n: good lord this is long and filthy. If you prefer to read it on AO3, it'll be linked. I've also never written a threesome before and tried my best, hopefully it isn't too horrible :)

words: 8,180

tags: Reiner x Jean x F!reader, rough sex, rough oral sex, Eiffel tower position, slight panty kink (Reiner), cum eating, Reiner and Jean are Bisexual, College AU, Reijean if you pay attention or care lol, pet names

What was it about Reiner and Jean that had you constantly glued to their hips? If you’re friends were to ask they’d say it was a double crush you were denying. If you asked your family their answers would vary from underlying crush, to enjoying being the center of attention or a close friendship. You personally didn’t think you were attached to their hips at first, but the more people started to whisper and theorize, you started to ask yourself the question. In reality, Reiner and Jean were your closest and longest friends, surviving multiple friend groups and growing up. You met Reiner in grade school, sat next to him on the first day of fourth grade and throughout the whole year due to the teacher’s assigned seating. The two of you might as well have been siblings, walking home together, eating dinner and playing at each other's house, even his mom and your parents were close after a while. Jean entered the scene later, seventh grade to be exact when he transferred mid year and as luck would have it the three of you shared almost all classes together. Reiner was the one who sought out Jean’s friendship and you became friends by proxy and from then on all the way to college the three of you were tight knit.

Attending the same university is what you think further solidified the glue between the three of you, swearing to everyone it wasn’t intentional to attend the same university together. Some believed you and others didn’t, but you really didn’t care. Thankfully rumors spreading about you being in a three way relationship with them ended going to college, high school was rampant. You’d admit that it did bother you, because why couldn’t you be really good friends with two guys? Why did everyone have to make it seem the other way around? Reiner and Jean never hesitated to defend your honor against the rumors, landing themselves in suspension once or twice when defending you turned physical. Even when you tried to blame yourself, they never allowed it.

Now when people questioned what the true nature of your friendship was with them, you’d play into the bit and come up with wildly different answers on how the dynamics of the relationship worked. Reiner and Jean both got a kick out of it as did you.

Junior year of college is what changed things for the three of you. Since you couldn’t room with them in the dorms since they were guys, all three of you decided to rent a condo off campus. You’d spent almost all your life with both of them so there wasn’t any harm in living with them, besides all three of you were just friends.

Towards the end of the first semester of junior year already and finals quickly approaching, you were buried in your books, studying like a madman to keep your GPA around or above a 3.5, needing the best possible grades to earn the degree you were working towards. Jean and Reiner had it easy in your mind, ashy haired man working towards a degree in Art History and the blonde meathead shooting towards that finance degree. In hindsight, they didn’t have it much easier than you, but they were also stupidly smart in their own respective studies. You envied them in a sense.

It was chilly out, keeping two blankets wrapped around you sitting at your desk and scrolling through the notes you took the other day to refresh your mind for the practice test on Monday. As much as you wanted to deny it, you need a mental break from school but wouldn’t allow yourself to take it, not when so much was riding on the line.

“Hey.”

Jumping in your chair at the sound of a gruff voice at your bedroom door, blinking and rubbing your eyes from staring at the screen for too long. Swiveling to face whichever one of them it was, you wrapped the blanket around you tightly.

“Yea.”

“Are you still planning on watching the season premier of the show later?” Reiner asked, tapping his knuckles on your doorframe and leaning into it. Your eyes refused to focus on his face and instead on the bulging bicep through the fabric of the long sleeve shirt he wore. Since when were his arms that big? I mean fuck you knew he worked out but you’d never noticed how ripped his arms alone were.

“Yeah if I finish going through my notes.”

Reiner scoffed, rolling his eyes and approaching you, reaching over you to slam the laptop shut, deciding for you if you were going to look over the rest of your notes or not.

“Reiner-”

“You’ve been holed up in here for almost two days. I know finals are important but I’ll bet your brain is fried to a crisp.” Defiantly declaring, crossing those beefy ass arms over his chest and waiting for you to give in like he knew you would.

Whatever. The premier of the new season of the show the three of you watched would only be an hour, and then you could return to forcing yourself to absorb as much information as possible. Sighing dramatically for effect and throwing the blankets off of yourself, you uncross your stupidly numb legs and ignore the sharp tingles running up from your foot as you stride over to the small closet to put on a sweatshirt. Reiner didn’t bother leaving as you tossed your t-shirt and bra from where you stood partially out of view to pull the sweatshirt over your head.

“Jean is picking up food and drinks - is that my sweatshirt that I haven’t been able to find?” Sounding hurt and accusatory as you brushed past him out of your room, looking back to nod with a smile, because yes it was his and it was his fault for mixing it in with your laundry. He muttered down the small hallway to the main area of the condo all three of you shared, pinching your shoulder when he purposely knocked past you, hearing the muttering replaced with chuckles.

One of them had taken the liberty to find all the blankets that were supposed to already be in the living room and tossed them all over the couch, setting up for the three of you to comfortably watch the premier. You could hear Reiner in the kitchen that flowed into the open concept living room, making a whole bunch of unnecessary noise in trying to find whatever it was. If you were being honest, living with your closest friends was turning into living with siblings, getting into pointless arguments and doing everything to get on each other's nerves. Would you change it to live with a regular roommate that could be a hit or miss in how well you got alone? Hell no.

Finding a spot on the couch while waiting for Jean, you decided to look through all the notifications you missed while studying for hours. Some of your classmates were checking in, or asking questions about the notes, contemplating on whether you should respond. They could wait, Reiner was probably right when he said your brain was fried at this point. Checking social media quickly turned into envy seeing some of your other friends enjoying the holiday break, done with their finals and celebrating by jumping from parties to bars or wherever they sold cheap alcohol. If only you were done with finals so you could actually destress, but that just wasn’t in the cards.

Jean came through the door after barreling through it, hands full with food and drinks. From the strong aroma, you knew he went to go get wings, always choosing the messiest option somehow.

“Damn out of your room finally? Swore you died or something.” Commenting with a smirk as he passed by the couch to get to the kitchen where Reiner was snickering at his comment. Rolling your eyes instead of lashing back, you joined them in the kitchen to plate some of the food and momentarily forget about the weight of finals.

“Please tell me you didn’t just get beer.” Approaching the center island of the kitchen, noticing the familiar white box in one of the bags that happened to be Jean and Reiner’s preferred drink of choice. If they wanted to give you a break, they would’ve at least gotten drinks that didn’t take four or five to actually start to feel the buzz.

“No, I got you those lemonade drinks.”

Ugh you could kiss him. As much as you loved Jean as a friend he had a tendency to forget to grab whatever you needed when he went out, always having to send you or Reiner back to the store to go grab it. Taking the glass bottle and popping the lid, the tingling fizzy drink left a slight burn as it went down your throat, just the right amount for you to down an entire six pack in a night and not regret your life choices in the morning.

“Shows about to start.” Reiner announced after checking his phone, taking his plate with him to the couch. You and Jean did the same, grabbing the drinks as well to keep from having to get up and get another if you wanted.

Sitting next to Reiner at a reasonable distance, Jean plopped down next to you and ended up sandwiching you between them. They were doing the absolute most to work every single one of your nerves, but you didn’t want to lash out again like you did earlier this week when one of them accidently ate your leftovers in the fridge. Tucking your feet under you as Reiner found the streaming service the show was premiering on, you actually didn’t mind being squished between them, their combined body heat doing more than the blanket over your lap would warm you up.

The host for the show gave a quick recap of last season, breaking down the drama and how it might affect this season. This dating competition game that you had started watching out of boredom surprisingly took the guys interest, somehow watching it with you when it was on to turning into offense when you’d watch the latest episode without them. Despite the show being corny and scripted and at times unbearable to watch, it was nice to do something like this with them.

“I swear to god if Jodi and that dick Preston aren’t broken up I might not watch the show anymore.”

Jean hummed in agreement with Reiner, guzzling down the rest of his first beer and reaching for another. “I know, he’s so fucking annoying and Jodi is either dumb or desperate if she hasn’t left him yet.”

Biting back a laugh as you took a bite of one of the wings, you looked at both of them to see they were being completely serious, so engrossed in this stupid show. The premise of this variant of a dating show was two people are paired up as a couple in the beginning and go through a series of challenges to see if they’re right for each other. Couples who continuously didn’t work together could get voted off or petition to break up with their partner. The downside was if there wasn’t another couple trying to split, you could be left without a partner and voted off, ya know all those stupid dating show rules that make you question why anyone would sign up to do it.

Finally beginning to destress while nursing your vodka infused lemonade, it all went to shit when the couple you were rooting for petitioned to split.

“Oh my god no! Why?! They were so good together!” Exclaiming and throwing your arms up, throwing your head back into the couch and pouting like a child.

“Man that sucks, but he did fuck Serena last season so I’d leave him to.” Reiner commented, grabbing your attention even more, failing to recall that important detail.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, they were getting each other off in that hallway, remember? Moaning so loud it's a shocker no one heard them.” Jean answered, laughing a little as he recalled the scene you’d clearly missed.

“Yea! She was standing there going ‘oh josh faster! I'm going to cum, oh my god I’m so close!’” Reiner took it upon himself to imitate the moans one of the contestants were making, and you wouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable if it wasn't for that throaty laugh he let out there at the end, turning your cheeks flush with pink and throwing back the rest of your drink to hide it. Jean found Reiner’s imitation hilarious, laughing a bit harder than you’d imagine he would if he wasn’t finishing his second beer already, grabbing another and throwing his arm behind the couch and slouching, lifting his hips in the air trying to get comfortable.

Suddenly the short commercial playing on screen was so interesting, taking small sips of the second bottle of lemonade and trying to drown out the sounds of their talking over you. Studying your ass off for the last couple of months left you little to no time to snag yourself a quick one night stand. You’d been able to ignore the urges and pour everything into your notes and reviews, but fuck it was harder than you expected. Espescially when you pick up on conversations between Reiner and Jean on their nights out, the girls they sometimes went home with and wishing you were getting fucked into the next semester. When all three of you moved in here, everyone agreed not to bring anyone home, unless clearing it with the other two that they’d be gone for the night. It hadn’t happen yet (that you were aware of) and you were glad, unsure how you’d feel knowing one of your best friends was getting their dick wet and having to listen to it.

Regular programming returned and tried as you did to focus on what was unfolding, you just couldn’t. Replaying Reiner’s laugh in your head and Jean’s hip motion, turning you warm all over and settling something funny yet familiar in your abdomen. You wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t though about fucking one of them, mostly they were just passing thoughts and that was it, but now? Jesus fucking christ your head was a mess. This what you get for turning down outings with other friends to study, leaving you hornier than a motherfucker. It’d be fine, the show only had about thirty minutes left and then you could go back to studying and rub one out if you really needed to.

“I wonder why there aren’t any same sex couples? I’d like to see how that plays out.” Jean’s words had a slight slur to them as he spoke, now reclined completely with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Wasn’t there one last season?” Reiner asked, in a similar position as Jean, one arm behind his head and his half drank beer between his thighs.

“Mm no, I think Zach and Marco made out on a dare but they weren’t a couple.” Giving them an answer after searching through your brain for that jaw dropping scene from last season that had everyone talking about on social media.

“Oh yea I remember that, that was hot.” Jean slurred, heat dripping in his words and causing you to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was because he was drunk, that was what you told yourself instead of questioning how your friend really felt about that scene unfolding.

Every little movement either of them did drew your attention, watching as Reiner drank the last of his beer, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, only to be pulled away by Jean’s groans as he adjusted on the couch. They weren’t doing it on purpose and you were tipsy so that explained the clenching of your thighs to ease the throb, not because you were getting turned on by them.

A preview of next week's episode played at the end of the premier, taking the liberty to watch it before getting up and heading back to your room to get your mind out of the gutter. But as you walked away, Reiner grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him lazily.

“Leaving already?”

“I said I’d watch the premier with you guys and then study before going to bed.” Ignoring how large his hand looked around your wrist and how warm it was on your skin, taking in a sharp breath.

“It’s Friday though.” The blonde whined, the slight inebriation turning him a bit sappy.

“Play a game of cards with us and then go, please.” Jean chimed in, fluttering those hazel eyes at you, begging to spend just a little more time together.

Not giving it much thought, you let out a sigh and walked to the media console below where the T.V hung on the wall to grab the deck of cards. Surely there was a quick game the three of you could play that wouldn’t send your mind further into the gutter or put you in a compromising situation. Jean managed to get up and grab some water for everyone, tossing one to you and Reiner as he sat down on the floor behind the coffee table, leaning back into the couch for support.

“One round of B.S, alright?” Shuffling the cards between your hands and the table, repeatedly doing so that way everyone played fairly.

“Lame but alright.” Jean agreed, chugging some of the water and sharing a look with Reiner that you didn’t understand and didn’t care to acknowledge.

Dividing the entire deck between the three of you, now waiting for one of them to put down the ace of spades to begin the game. Reiner ended up having it and motioned towards you to go next. This game used to be a staple for you guys, playing every chance you got and getting into heated arguments whenever someone suspected someone else of putting down the incorrect card.

The game went quietly in the beginning, until you picked up on Jean and Reiner putting down cards that they ‘supposedly’ had, smiling behind your deck every time they called out cards that were in your deck, the only thing keeping you from calling them out was waiting until the deck got a little thicker.

“Two eights.” Reiner called out, looking at you to go next.

“Bullshit.”

“Ha! You sure? Cause I promise you I just put down two eights.” Reiner laughed, encouraging you to rethink your decision but also egging you on to check in hopes of watching you take the entire deck.

“Check it.” Jean motivated from beside you, pushing his shoulder with yours. Reiner still had that confident look on his face which did end up making you regret your call out a bit, second guessing if you were right to call his bluff. No matter what since you called B.S, you had to check and you were going to livid if it actually was two eights.

Reaching forward and thumbing apart the top two cards from the rest of the deck, you snuck a peak and saw what you didn’t want to see; two eights.

“Nevermind, I take it back.” Knowing that wasn’t how the game worked but hoping you could worm your way out of it.

“Uh uh, check.” Reiner insisted while standing up, coming to lean over you from behind, taking your arm and trying to force you to check the first two cards so the entire deck would go to you. Doing everything to resist, laughing as the man behind you snarled and laughed in your ear, still trying to force you to check with his hand over yours. Jean was leaning over to help, slipping an arm under the one that held your deck in the other hand, sandwiching you between them for the second time that night.

“Just check, it’s okay if you’re a loser this round.” The taller of the two sneered in your other ear, brushing his lips over the shell and letting out a breathy laugh. You instantly shivered and became much more aware of your position, Reiner pressed into you from behind and Jean from the side. Heat rose in your entire body, refusing to let yourself enjoy the firm muscular bodies rubbing against yours.

Resistance faltered completely as you got caught up in the overwhelming thoughts and sensations coursing through you, Reiner succeeding in getting your hand to flip over the top three cards, chuckling directly into ear.

“Now was that so hard?” So close to the side of your face, you couldn’t help but turn and meet him. His eyes were still a bit hazy from the alcohol but not enough for you to feel guilty for leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Reiner gasped softly, giving into the feel of your soft plush lips on his and parting them when he felt yours begin to. You had absolutely no explanation for what spurred you to lean in and kiss what you considered your best friend, but you did and fuck did it feel nice. Reiner’s lips were surprisingly soft and the lingering remnants of his beer on his tongue kept you latched to his mouth.

Behind you, Jean watched intrigued, though not entirely shocked. He would feel left out if he weren’t enjoying his two best friends making out on the floor of the living room, noticing how his sweat pants turned a little tighter. He smirked when Reiner peeked an eye open, a silent invitation to join in while pulling away from you. Jean wasted no time grabbing you by the back of your neck and slotting his lips into yours, sighing delightfully and wasting no time moving them with his.

There wasn’t enough time for you to process that it was Jean you were kissing now, your other best friend, letting out a small moan when his tongue dipped into your mouth. He was slightly more insistent than Reiner was, moving faster and with a purpose but still reeling you in as your mouths stayed locked together.

Coming up for air, not even wanting to think about what had just happened, you stood quickly.

“C’mon,” Nodding towards what you think was Reiner’s room, knowing that if you gave yourself a moment to consider what you were about to do, you’d back out and hole yourself away in your room and never speak of this again.

Both of them were quick to follow, smiling victoriously behind you. The door shut and you sat on the edge of Reiner’s bed, looking at both of them and debating on how this should continue to carry out. Consequences could come later, right now you’d gotten a taste of what you’d been actively avoiding for the sake of a GPA and needing so much more.

“However you want to do this, I’m down.” Voicing your consent and ultimately putting all of your trust in both of them. You would admit this could be smoother sailing since you’d known both of them since childhood basically, but just not like that. There wouldn’t be much need to worry about keeping them in check like you would if it were someone you went home from the bar with and part of that excited you.

Out of the two of them, Jean approached first, standing between your legs and grabbing your face and kissing you again. Slowly as your mouths returned to motions from minutes ago, the taller man began to push you back into the bed, holding himself above you with his hands beside your head. The bed dipped in the sudden weight of another person, knowing it was Reiner.

Slender hands slipped under your sweatshirt, roaming around your skin and littering it with goosebumps. You gasped when the lith fingers brushed the underside of your breast, remembering you weren’t wearing a bra. Jean chuckled into your lips, humming as he dared to cup the flesh, sighing pleasantly when brushing his thumb over your nipple.

Abruptly his mouth left yours, leaving you dazed and sitting up to search for his lips, only to see hands that weren’t Jean’s pulling his shirt off. Reiner stood on his knees just behind your head, tossing the shirt to the other side of the room and giving a playful smack to Jean’s pectoral.

“Sharing is caring by the way.” The blonde rumbled behind you, scolding Jean and pinching his nipple teasingly, hearing Jean hiss softly before Reiner slipped his arms under your armpits and hauling you to face him. He was in nothing but his boxer briefs, the faint imprint of his half hard cock catching your eyes and widening at how big it looked beneath the fabric. Fuck you hadn’t even thought about how big either of them were, both impressively fit and no doubt having a dick to match the rigid muscles rippling over their bodies.

Falling with Reiner as he leaned back on the bed, you threw your legs over his torso and smashed your mouth to his, feeling another set of hands from behind you lift the hem of your sweatshirt until you were bare from the waist up. The man below you groaned when you sat up on his abdomen, running his hand across your stomach. Acquainted hands from earlier snakes around to your chest, Jean cupping both of your tits and softly kissing down your neck while circling his thumbs over your nipples.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed from below, raising his hips as he watched Jean tease and stimulate your nipples in to pert buds. Mindlessly, you began to scoot down until you came in contact with the bulge beneath Reiner’s boxers, grinding in time with Jean’s circling thumbs. The blonde groaned again, bringing his hands to your hips and encouraging you.

“Eager huh?” A voice teased, pinching both nipples harshly and sucking the side of your neck. You couldn’t think of anything but the rising heat in your body, the teasing from Jean and the quieted groans from Reiner below. Maybe you were stupid for never giving this a shot before, both seemed eager and willing to please and show you what a good time looked like.

“Are these my sweat pants?” Jean asked, pulling off of your neck and slipping one of his hands to the waistband of said sweats, snapping the band against your skin.

“Mhm.” Unable to give any other answer as Reiner started rolling his hips up to yours, matching the roll of your own. Wasn’t intentional to wear either of their clothes but seeing how it looked now only made you more desperate for them and if that got you what you wanted, then where was the harm. Reiner began to tug at the waistband, sitting up on his elbows after hearing the short conversation between you and Jean, aiding him by lifting your hips and no longer straddling his waist.

Enough teasing, you decided, pulling down Reiner’s boxer briefs after he tossed the sweats aside, gripping the base and watching his face contort at the contact. He was thick from the base up, intimidating you from the sight and size alone. Jean chuckled, moving to lay beside his friend, cupping the side of his face and hovering above his lips. Interesting to see there was no resistance from Reiner when their lips slipped together, craning to reach the ashy haired man like he was desperate for his taste. Smirking while the two of them made out, you flattened your tongue over the top of Reiner’s cockhead, fluttering your eyes at the delicious groan that Jean swallowed from Reiner. It’d take some working up to taking his dick all the way down, girthy enough to know your jaw would ache when it was all said and done.

Sucking around the head and moaning when Reiner’s hand reached down to grip Jean’s dick still shielded by the fabric of his briefs, seeing his hand move up and down. Had they done this before? You couldn't help but wonder the more you took Reiner’s dick down seeing how they were both so comfortable with each other’s touch, and the slight jealousy of being left out. Jean’s hip rutted into Reiner’s hand, breaking their make out session to finally pull his briefs off and give you a look at what he was packing as well. It was slightly longer than Reiner’s, by an inch or two but not as thick, pausing your bobbing head to stare between his legs.

“I think she likes it.” Reiner hissed, bringing a hand to your head, pushing you further down his dick and letting his head fall back when the tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Haven’t met anyone who hasn’t.” Jean quipped back, moving off the bed and coming to stand behind you. You watched Reiner’s eyes follow him, a sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Warm hands massaged your ass cheeks, gasping around the cock still deep in your throat when two fingers swiped over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked.” He commented behind you, Reiner groaning approvingly as he still guided your head up and down on his dick. Jean then pulled your panties down, tossing them over to Reiner who shamelessly brought them to his nose, listening to him mutter a few words and pull you off of his dick to give you a break. Jean then took to spreading you apart, licking a strip from your clit to your entrance, squeaking out a moan and falling forward onto Reiner’s abdomen. The blonde pulled you forward until your tits dangled in his face, taking one into his mouth.

“Holy shit-” Gasping at the double stimulation, forgetting all shame and grinding back into Jean’s face, who appreciated the gesture with a firm slap to one ass cheek, dipping his tongue inside you, slurping obnoxiously. You were shaking, struggling to hold yourself up, moaning like the whore you felt like. Reiner managed to keep you steady above him, holding you so he could bite and suck at your over sensitive nipples. You knew both of them were experienced but fuck, they were intent on making it impossible to make any future hookups impossible to enjoy, hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

Reiner suddenly bit down hard on your nipple, pulling off it with a tug and causing you to wince at the slight pain. Unsure of what would cause him to do that, you turned around to see one of Jean’s hands between your bodies, languidly stroking the blonde’s spit coated dick. This wasn’t exactly the right time to question the nature of your two friends' relationship, but the way Reiner was moaning and struggling to return to the task at hand, it continuously flashed in the back of your head. Jean was still buried in your pussy while simultaneously jacking Reiner off, pressing your forehead to Reiner’s and practically synchronizing your moans.

“Fuck, have you two done this before?” asking the man below you, watching his slow nod come before his answer.

“Yea - fuck - every once in a while.” panting as his hips grinded into Jean’s hand, and sitting up enough to where he could pry the man away, seconds away from cumming.

Jean took the hint, also pulling away from your pussy and stroking it affectionately. You winced at the final slap he gave to your ass, coming back to lay beside Reiner, taking the side of his face and turning it towards him.

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ devine.”

“Oh yea?” Bolding swiping his tongue over Jean’s bottom lip, speaking as if you weren’t there listening to them talk. You watched as they kissed again, yearning for the combined taste and chastising yourself for not noticing the signs for whatever they had going on sooner.

“Think I need a better taste for myself, lay down for me baby.” Reiner instructed, already moving to get out from under you. Jean chuckled deviously, pecking the side of your mouth and moving to the very back of the bed, reclining against the headboard, patting his inner thigh. Reiner immediately knew what he was wanting and waited until you were sitting between the other man’s legs to center him between yours.

“Keep’em spread for me.” Glancing up to the other man, running his palms over your inner thighs.

You were already so sensitive from Jean eating you out minutes ago, you were afraid you weren’t going to last much longer. Nevertheless, you let Jean hook your legs over his and watched on baited breath as the blonde examined your slick and puffy folds.

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” His voice so airy, breathing over your cunt prior to latching onto your clit. Your back arched off of Jean’s chest, whining at the intentionally harsh sucks. The man behind you held you down with an arm around your chest, chuckling right beside your ear. Reiner looked up, smiled against your tingling flesh and flicked his tongue over your clit while he continued to suck.

Jesus fucking christ, it was too much, you were already starting to feel yourself cum when Jean’s hand tipped your head back. “Don’t cum, not yet gorgeous.”

“Jean, I can’t.” Mewling pathetically, feeling the beginnings of tears at your waterline from the overstimulation.

“Sure you can.” Giving a slow grind of his dick on your lower back, the promise of a silent reward if you did what you were told. Keeping your head thrown back on his shoulder you shamelessly moaned and whimpered as Reiner alternated between sucks and swirls of his tongue, listening to his chuckles as you writhed against Jean. He finally pulled away only to shove his middle and ring finger inside, pulling you too look at him by your chin as he sat on his knees between your legs and furiously fingered you.

“Fuck look at you, so pretty baby.” He cooed with a smirk, running along the spongy part deep inside of you and giving a small tilt of his head, knowing you would take it as your indicator to cum.

You came on a broken cry, arched off Jean’s chest and pulsating around Reiner’s fingers. Both of them laughed endearingly at their combined success at getting you to come. Reiner pulled his fingers out, locked his eyes with yours and sucked the two digits clean. Jean was the one who moaned behind you at the act, dick still grinding into your lower back subtly.

“Think you’re okay to take one of us?” One of them asked, still delirious from your orgasm to tell who was asking. You gave a nod and sat forward, not really caring how but still feeling the ache in your cunt for more.

“Alright hands and knees then princess.” It was Jean instructing, hearing his voice vibrate in his chest that was still pressed to your back.

On shaky legs you sat on your knees, watching them move around as you positioned yourself on all fours. Reiner was still behind you, massaging your ass cheeks and letting out huffs of appreciation at your puffy wet folds, his and Jean’s handy work. Jean sat on his knees in front of your face, running a loose fist over his angry cock, using the pre-cum leaking from the slit to lubricate his motions.

“If it’s too much, pinch my thigh or kick the brute behind you.” Jean swooned, holding your head up to look at him as he spoke, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, watching the anticipation blaze in his irises.

“We’ll take care of you angel,” Reiner pressed himself into your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. All you could do was nod, witness the shared glance between both of them and wait on pins and needles.

The fat head of Reiner’s cock started to slide between your folds teasingly, wetting the tip and making it hard to focus on your gentle kisses you were giving to Jean’s. It was good they were both aware of their size and knew they couldn’t just shove themselves in disregarding you completely, but holy shit, if your weeping cunt wasn’t enough to entice Reiner to slip inside you already then you weren’t sure what will.

A hand held your jaw when you enclosed your lips around the tip, sucking long and slow, tasting the salty pre that continuously leaked out. Jean’s head was thrown back, the defined muscles cascading over his body clenching the more you took in his cock more. You could hear Reiner chuckle on a low breath, pushing just the tip inside of you and giving a full body shutter. If their goal was to drive you insane with their pace, it was working, taking things into your own hands and pushing your hips back into Reiner until you were flush to his pelvis.

He choked, dug his fingers into your hip and somewhat growled with the ragged breaths he was taking. It was Jean’s turn to laugh now, the sound so disgustingly seductive you could feel yourself grow wetter around the cock you shoved yourself on.

“God you’re fucking tight, feels so good.” The blonde breathed out, pulling his hips back nearly all the way, returning the favor by thrusting forward and sending Jean’s cock deeper down your throat. The hand not holding your chin tangled harshly in your hair, looking down with parted lips and hooded eyes at the sight and little reaction you gave. They may have known you all your life but they didn’t know how well you could take dick, letting a small amount of pride surge through you at their astonishment.

Their rhythm synchronized quickly, settling somewhere in the middle of not too soft and not too rough, letting you adjust to their respective sizes. You knew it wouldn’t last before they abandoned it all and used you to find their pleasure, just from radiating restraint coming off of them, eventually fucking your throat and pussy like you were nothing but a hole to be filled and that thought alone was exciting.

“Shit, do that again.” Jean breathily exclaimed, enjoying the method of your tongue swirling around his shaft as he plunged in and out of your mouth, tipping your head back with the hand still in your hair. Giving him a hum, you repeated the action, felt your stomach flip in on itself as he moaned prettily.

There was a slight hitch in breath from the man behind you, faltering in his thrusts and seemingly regaining his composure. Something about Reiner experiencing the same surge of arousal as your were at Jean’s expression and action thickened the lust hanging in the air around you. He didn’t resume his pace like you were expecting him to, but yanked back into focus on Jean tightening his grip in your hair and pistoning his hips forward, fucking your throat with vigor, something snapping inside him.

“There you go, gorgeous.” Growling, inhaling sharply through his nose. Your eyes were welling up with tears, the ache in your jaw beginning but you didn’t want to stop, not until his cum was trickling down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow. Reiner palmed both of your ass cheeks, spreading them far apart and slamming into with the same force Jean was. This sudden switch up had your legs nearly buckling, tears rolling down your cheeks and pathetic whines and whimpers muffled. Your pussy fluttered around Reiner everytime Jean thrusted down your throat, the wet squelching noise turning obscene, your gummy walls sucking the blonde back in over and over, like your pussy craved to be stretched and fucked on his thick cock.

“Fuck she feels so good, so wet,” Reiner groaned, talking to Jean, again like you weren’t there.

“Mm, she sucks cock better than you.” Jean groaned back at the mental image his friend was painting, acknowledging your mouth felt just as good as your pussy probably did.

“Not my fault, you barely give me a chance before trying to get me inside you.”

Their banter of a conversation sending you into a new wave of arousal, images of their bulky bodies fighting over who would fuck who and never in your life did you think something like that would turn you on. Despite it being your two best friends fueling these fantasizing images, you couldn’t help but want to be in the middle of that from here on out. From the way both of them fucked you, there wasn’t any desire to look for anymore hook-ups, not when the two perfect candidates were right here.

“Gonna cum princess, be a good girl and swallow it all for me.” A husky voice drawing you back to reality, doing your best to give him a nod and look up at him with doe-like eyes, a trick that worked on just about every guy.

With a slow drawn out groan, Jean pushed the entirety of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, pressing your nose to the happy trail below his belly button. Hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, feeling him ease up and pull out of your mouth so he wouldn’t accidentally choke you with his cum. He gave you a lopsided smile, wiping away the milky liquid from your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth with his thumb, shuffling over to Reiner who was still fucking your pussy absolutely raw. You could only assume the blonde cleaned off the cum smeared thumb Jean presented him, based on the hiss and brief collision of mouths.

A heavy palm landed on the center of your back, forcing you off of your elbows holding you up and forming a deep arch in your back. From this angle, Reiner was able to sink so much deeper inside you, splitting you in half on his thick cock, crying out with a moan.

“Glad I held off, been dying to hear those pretty moans again baby.” He chuckled, putting more of his weight into the hand on your back, forcing you to keep the arch.

“Fuck Reiner, don’t stop.” Gasping, twisting the bedsheets in a tight fist, the tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Don’t plan to, sweetheart, I want to see you leaking by the time I’m done.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to stop the constant moans and incoherent noises leaving your lips. Jean had come back into view, partially laying down beside you, keeping your hair out of your eyes and giving you a look of endearing smugness, like watching you getting fucked by Reiner was better than fucking you himself.

Skin slapping on skin echoed in the bedroom, your body coated in a layer of sweat and your limbs so weak that if it weren’t for Reiner holding you by the hips now, you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright. Your spongy walls clenched repeatedly around him after another orgasm, unsure of how many at this point.

“Doin’ so good, doll.” Jean cooed, pinching the nipple he had been messing with and muffling your broken squeak with a soft kiss, keeping you occupied. Reiner grunted, beginning to break his steady harsh rhythm and fucking into you furiously with abandon. His breathing turned into short gasps, letting out something of a whine, tipping his head back with two final slams of his hips before cumming inside of you.

A familiar warmth filled your pussy, moaning weakly into Jean’s lips, giving up on holding your position. Reiner pulled out slowly, groaning as he watched a glob of his cum drip from your hole. You collapsed on the bed, forcing yourself to turn over and lay on your back, placing your hands over your eyes to ease the dizziness you were experiencing.

Just when you thought all the nerve endings in your body were shot, you sprung forward when a flat tongue glided over your folds, seeing Reiner lap up the mess he made between your legs, smirking and moving out of the way so Jean could do the same thing.

“Fucking filthy.” Muttering at the sight of them both taking turns cleaning you up, your legs twitching and tingling from sensitivity. They both looked at you guiltless, even though you were shaking with overstimulation that didn’t stop you from pressing Jean’s head into your folds, watching as he eagerly lapped at Reiner’s cum. They switched again, Reiner being gentler this time, only running his tongue across your messy slit twice before using his middle finger to shove some of it back in.

Reiner moves out from between your legs to lay beside you, cradling the side of your face for the sole purpose of giving you a taste of his cum. You were just as shameless, moaning into the kiss and running your hand through his sweaty hair, feeling him smirk against your lips. He pulled away, grabbing Jean by the back of the neck and slotting his lips between his, kissing him rather tenderly.

With zero strength to make it to the bathroom, let alone your room to grab a change of clothes, Reiner and Jean took the liberty of taking care of you. Both of them pulling on their sweats thrown around the room, Reiner cleaned your inner thighs while Jean went to your room to grab you some underwear after tossing you one of Reiner’s sweatshirts. All three of you situated yourself into Reiner’s king bed, you of course in the middle of them both. There was so point in going back to your room and studying, not when you had several unanswered questions.

“So how long have you two been dating?” They both froze beside you, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“We’re not dating, we just fuck occasionally.” Jean answered, Reiner nodding to further reaffirm the statement, but you weren’t buying it. Their chemistry in bed was enough to convince you they’d been hiding a relationship from you.

“You just fuck? No feelings attached?”

“There’s obviously feelings when we’ve been friends this long, but we’re not exclusive.” Reiner responded, propping himself up on his elbow and looking in the direction of you and Jean. “We didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything serious between us.”

Okay, that made more sense than you were expecting too. But experiencing what you just did created a longing inside of you, one that might’ve been there that you didn’t want to acknowledge before now. Jean and Reiner were your best friends without a doubt, but they were also so much more than that and in order to not ruin the friendship, you shoved that deep down inside of you.

“But,” Jean’s hands from behind turned you to look towards him. “We’re also not opposed to the idea of you being a part of this situationship.”

“You’ve talked about this?” Surprised to know this wasn’t a coincidence happening, sounding like they planned this in a way.

“Of course we have, do you know how long both of us have had a crush on you?” Reiner laughed, sending your mind into a flurry of confusion. They liked you? Like holding affectionate feelings beyond friendship for you?

“Huh?”

“Since junior or senior year of high school. We didn’t know we both felt the same way about you until after we had sex for the first time six months ago, agreeing that if it ever came to the point where you chose one of us over the other we would be okay with it.” Jean was speaking now, softly and almost lovingly, sending a blush to your face.

“And we’ll never ask you to choose, if you want only one of us that’s fine and if you end up wanting both of us, that’s fine too.” Reiner spoke with the same inflection Jean did, softly smiling and looking at you endearingly.

“I want both of you.” Blurting out without even thinking twice, hearing them laugh. But you knew you would rather have both than just one, it's always been the three of you.

“Don’t decide now idiot, we’re being serious.” Jean pinched your shoulder with a frustrated grunt, rolling his eyes while Reiner just laughed softly.

“We can talk about it more tomorrow, it’s late.” Reaching over to turn the lamp off on his bedside table, pulling you down under the comforter into his arms and kissing the top of your head. Jean shuffled behind you, pressing his chest to your back and kissing your cheek.

For a few moments you refused to close your eyes, trying to break down all the new feelings and emotions you were experiencing, from earlier when you were at their mercy, to the confession from them both. It was in a way exciting, and whatever ended up happening between the three of you, it would work out in the end.

#reiner braun #jean kirstein #reiner x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #reiner x jean x reader #attack on titan #aot reiner #aot jean #snk #reiner smut #jean kirschstein smut #snk smut #aot smut #smut

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milkmejae · 6 months ago

Text

Heartstring 1998─ p.sh, n.rk

sypnosis: in 1998, a misdirected confession letter meant for your long time crush, Riki, lands in the hands of his best friend, Sunghoon. turning your life into a relentless game of servitude, but just as everyone realizes their feelings, maybe it's already too late. genre: romance, angst, fluff, comedy (?) pairing: classmate!p.sh x female!reader x crush!n.rk word count: 10.1k warnings: mentions of death, medical themes, distressing content, angst, dubious dynamics, bullying

playlist: kiss kiss - mgk, - tiger la flor, super8 - tiger la flor, genius - ravyn lenae, paranormal - enhypen, mr. loverman - ricky montgomery, heartbreak girl - 5sos, ghost of you - 5sos, lasso the moon - tiger la flor

a/n: this fic is from last year, i originally decided to discontinue this since i don't really like it, but i changed my mind so... yeah, i hope y'all like this <3 not proofread

Senior Year, 1998

For most kids, high school was about prom, last-minute cramming, and hoping their moms didn’t accidentally wash their favorite Nirvana shirt with the whites. For you, it was about making it to graduation before your heart gave out.

You never thought your senior year would be defined by cardiac failure and romantic failure in equal measure, but here you were.

Dilated cardiomyopathy. That was the term. It meant your heart was working overtime just to do the basics, pumping blood, keeping you alive, making sure you didn’t pass out from climbing a single flight of stairs. It wasn’t ideal. Yeah, it sucks.

Neither was the fact that you were still pathetically single.

Sure, you had an excuse. Being terminally exhausted wasn’t exactly attractive. But was it too much to ask to experience at least one romantic moment before you kicked the bucket?

But you had dreams.

Dreams like not dying single.

And that’s where Riki came in.

Oh Riki, your Riki.

An angel sent from above, the one that makes your heart hurt, both in a good and bad way. You didn't even know why and how you caught feelings. It was just sudden and it’s not even funny—if angels wore Chrome Hearts, had a mean three-pointer, and called you dude way too much for your fragile, lovesick heart to handle. He once told you his goal in life was to be “dripped out even in the afterlife,” which honestly? Respect.

Riki was the kind of guy who made high school bearable. He was your first and longest crush, the reason you sometimes bothered showing up to class despite your heart doing the absolute most just to keep you conscious. He had this stupidly perfect laugh, an attitude that danced between cocky and charming, and a way of making everything seem fun. A normal person might have confessed ages ago, but you? You waited until you were on the verge of death to take action.

He was the reason you dragged yourself to class even when your heart was acting like a dial-up modem on a stormy night. The reason, you, a known mediocre, somehow maintained perfect attendance in exactly one class: Physics. Not because you cared about Newton’s laws, but because Riki sat next to you, smelled like expensive cologne and teenage recklessness, and occasionally let you borrow his hoodie when you looked cold and pale which was often, because obviously you're dying. It’s like he’s the gravity, pulling you towards him.

And oh, he was everything you weren’t. Tall, athletic, and effortlessly cool, he had this laugh, the kind that made your stomach do backflips and your heart forget it was terminal. He was one of those guys who made high school look easy, a movie protagonist who actually liked being here. While you were just trying not to die in the middle of AP Literature, Riki was out there making everything look like an MTV music video.

Confessing your feelings should’ve been simple.

People did it all the time. Girls slipped notes into lockers, guys made mixtapes with carefully chosen love songs, couples slow danced at prom under the cheesy glow of twinkling fairy lights. It wasn’t hard.

So why did it feel like you were about to commit a crime? Maybe because you were.

The crime of embarrassing yourself beyond repair.

You stood at the edge of the school courtyard, gripping the folded confession letter like it was your last will and testament. This was it. This was the moment you’d tell the guy how you felt after years of—

Oh.

Oh, no.

He wasn’t alone.

He was sprawled out on one of the stone benches, his signature skateboard lying next to him, chatting with a few guys from his friend group. His stupid friend group.

The school’s unofficial boyband without the instruments, except Jay sometimes carried his Taylor 114CE around for no reason. A group so effortlessly cool that it made even normal social interactions feel nerve-wracking, let alone whatever the hell you were about to do. You despise that.

Panic settled deep in your chest.

You had imagined this moment a million times. But not once had you imagined doing it with an audience.

You tried to gather your courage. Maybe they won’t even notice me. Maybe you could just walk up, say what you needed to say, and leave before anyone processed what was happening.

It was a good thought.

A comforting thought.

And then—

Someone cracked a joke, and all of them burst into laughter. The kind of laughter that made you feel like an intruder just for standing there.

You were kidding yourself. This wasn’t some cute, romcom-worthy confession. You weren’t that kind of girl, and this wasn’t that kind of story.

This was real life.

And in real life?

You had no business walking into that circle, let alone confess to one of them. Your feet were already moving before your brain caught up.

One second, you were standing there, gripping your letter for dear life. The next, you were walking—no, speed-walking—straight past them, making a very dramatic beeline for anywhere but here.

And in your rush to flee the scene of the crime you never committed, you didn’t notice.

The letter slipping from your fingers.

──────────────────

The man had been having an okay day.

Which, by his standards, meant a tolerable day.

He had survived calculus without wanting to throw himself into traffic, avoided being dragged into yet another unnecessary argument between Jay and Jake (about whether or not socks with sandals were ever acceptable), and had, so far, successfully avoided unnecessary social interaction.

So when he caught a glimpse of a crumpled piece of paper tumbling across the pavement, he almost ignored it.

Almost.

But then he saw something that made him pause.

A number.

Or, more specifically—

A beeper number.

He sighed, bending down to pick it up. It was a letter.

He unfolded it, gaze flicking over the words then he stopped.

Because this wasn’t just some random note.

This was a confession letter.

A very specific, very earnest confession letter.

“To Riki,

He exhaled sharply through his nose, gaze flicking up just in time to see you—the girl from his class who always looked like she was one bad day away from dropping out—power-walking away like you had just committed arson.

I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should. Just thought you should know. If, by some miracle, you feel the same, page me. [xxxx-xxxx]. If not, let’s pretend this never happened.”

The guy sighed again, tucking the letter into his pocket. This was not his problem.

And yet.

He glanced at the beeper number.

Then back at you, now just a fast-disappearing blur in the distance.

He didn’t know why he did it but he did it anyways.

You didn’t realize your letter was missing. Not until you got home, tore your bag apart, and found nothing. And that was when you started panicking. No, that wasn’t just any letter. That was the letter.

The one where you had detailed in embarrassingly specific language, how much you fancy Riki. How you thought he was funny and talented, how his laugh made your heart do that weird fluttery thing, how your heart would ache for him (which may or may not have been an actual symptom of your condition, but whatever).

BEEP.

Fuck.

Please no.

Somewhere, wherever you had ended up, your beeper went off.

You wanted to die.

Where was it? Who had it? Did Riki have it?

And when you checked the message, all it said was:

"You dropped something. Meet me, back of building 2 tomorrow."

Oh, fuck me.

──────────────────

You weren’t easily rattled. Life had already handed you an unfair deck of cards—one defective heart, one painfully obvious crush, and one misdirected confession that now haunted your every waking moment—so at this point, you thought you had developed a decent threshold for embarrassment. You had learned how to roll with things. Keep your head down. Survive.

But there was something about the way Park Sunghoon was staring at you that made you want to combust.

It started the moment you stepped into the classroom that morning. The feeling crept up your spine, that unmistakable sense of being watched, and when you finally stole a glance, you found Sunghoon already looking at you, his posture relaxed, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pretend to look away like a normal person who had just been caught staring. No. Instead, he held your gaze, cold and steady, as if he were analyzing something, measuring something before deciding it wasn’t worth reacting to.

You immediately turned away, heart thumping in your chest, pulse stuttering slightly in a way that may or may not have been a symptom of your condition. Fine. Whatever. Maybe he had just been spacing out. Maybe this was nothing. You weren’t about to let Sunghoon of all people ruin your day.

But then, the minutes crawled by.

And he didn’t stop.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Sunghoon wasn’t actively bothering you, right? He wasn’t whispering your name, wasn’t nudging your shoulder, wasn’t throwing notes onto your desk like some annoying childhood crush. He was just… watching.

And yet, somehow, that was worse.

Because Sunghoon had the kind of presence that demanded to be acknowledged. He wasn’t the loudest guy in the room, far from it. He didn’t need to be. His silence carried weight, his indifference practically tangible, like he existed just slightly out of sync with everyone else. So when someone like that stared at you, it meant something.

The worst part?

You couldn’t even tell what that something was.

You spent most of the class pointedly looking at anything but him, your notebook, the clock, the water stains on the ceiling—each second stretching into eternity as his gaze bore into the side of your head. Maybe if you ignored him long enough, he’d get bored. Maybe if you pretended this wasn’t happening, it would stop.

But it didn’t.

Not when the teacher droned on about quadratic equations. Not when students shuffled papers and tapped their pencils in absentminded rhythms. Not when the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, spilling across desks and highlighting the faint scratch of chalk on the blackboard.

Through it all, he didn’t move.

He remained effortlessly composed, his elbow propped against the desk, fingers loosely curled near his chin, eyes never once leaving your form. He wasn’t even pretending to focus on class. It was almost insulting how casual he was about it, like you were some mildly interesting puzzle he had no real intention of solving.

By the time the final bell rang, you had reached your limit. You shoved your books into your bag, gripping the straps a little too tightly as you all but launched yourself from your seat. You needed to get out of there before your brain short-circuited completely.

But Sunghoon?

He still didn’t say a word.

Didn’t move.

Just let his gaze follow you all the way to the door, like this wasn’t over yet.

And maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t.

You should’ve gone straight home. That would have been the rational thing to do. But your beeper still sat heavy in your pocket, the message from last night burning in the back of your mind.

"You dropped something. Meet me, back at Building 2 tomorrow."

The moment you had seen those words flash across the tiny screen, your stomach had dropped. You had torn your bag apart, desperate to find anything that could’ve been misplaced, but it wasn’t until way later that it hit you.

The letter.

The one you had written for Riki. The one you had spent actual time on, pouring out feelings you never thought you’d have the courage to say out loud. The letter that had, in the most unfortunate turn of events, never even made it to him.

Instead, it had landed in the hands of someone else.

And now, you were going to find out who.

With each step, your heartbeat picked up your pace slow but deliberate as you cut across campus, sneakers scuffing against the pavement. The late afternoon air was thick, the distant sounds of students laughing and packing up for the day fading behind you as you rounded the corner of Building 2.

And then,

You stopped.

Because standing there, leaning against the wall like he had been waiting all along, was Park Sunghoon.

Your stomach sank.

For a split second, you tried to rationalize it. Maybe he just hangs out here. Maybe this is a coincidence. But then—

Sunghoon reached into his pocket.

And pulled out your letter.

He flicked it between his fingers, gaze steady, unreadable, completely indifferent, except for the slight tilt of his head, like he was considering something. The afternoon light cut sharp shadows across his features, making his already blank expression even more unreadable. He looked calm. Collected. Bored, even.

Like this entire situation barely even registered as interesting.

You, on the other hand, were short-circuiting.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs, not from exertion but from sheer mortification. Because this was so much worse than Riki finding it.

This was Sunghoon.

And Sunghoon?

He had no reason to be holding that letter.

He shouldn’t have cared. He shouldn’t have picked it up. He shouldn’t have read it.

But he had.

And now, standing there, twirling it between his fingers like it was nothing, he finally spoke.

"Looking for this?"

His voice was light. Almost amused.

You could only stare.

You didn’t have time to be embarrassed. Didn’t have the luxury of panicking, of stammering out some half-baked excuse and sprinting in the opposite direction like a complete coward. No, you had to deal with this. Immediately. Swiftly. Before making your life a waking nightmare.

So, you did what any rational person would do.

You square your shoulders, inhaled sharply, and cut straight to the point.

"What do you want?" you demanded, arms crossed, words sharp enough to slice through the thick tension hanging between you.

You should have been prepared for the absurdity. You really should’ve. But after everything that had gone down in the past twenty-four hours, the beeper message, the letter fiasco, the absolutely humiliating confession, you had already reached your limit of surreal, embarrassing moments. You had told yourself, no more surprises.

But then came Sunghoon, with his deadpan expression, leaning against the wall like the entire world was a joke, and the punchline was you. And when he said it, when he casually tossed out the words, "Be my school dog," it felt like the universe had finally decided it was done messing with you and had moved on to full-scale mockery.

You just blinked at him.

"What?" you asked, voice hoarse, as though you needed to clear the fog in your brain before you processed the sheer absurdity of his demand. "Are you serious?"

Sunghoon didn’t flinch, didn’t even shift his posture. He stood there like the picture of aloofness, arms crossed, lips slightly tilted in the barest semblance of a smirk, eyes unwavering. He looked like he was having the most normal conversation of his life, while you were actively dying inside.

"Relax," he repeated, his voice dripping with nonchalance as if this was an everyday occurrence. "It’s really not that complicated."

Oh, it wasn’t complicated?

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to march right up to him, slap that stupid smirk off his face, and demand that he take it back, but you were at the mercy of his overwhelming indifference, the kind of indifference that breathed confidence into his words. No sweat. No hesitation. Nothing but cold calculation in the way he leaned there, as if his proposition were the most casual thing in the world.

"What does that even mean?" You couldn’t help but ask, your voice thick with a mix of disbelief and frustration. "Am I supposed to fetch your textbooks? Your coffee? Should I start doing your homework too? Or maybe you want me to do what? sit at your feet while you nap?"

You knew you were being ridiculous, but it was hard to hold it together when this was the price you had to pay for your own heartfelt (and now totally ruined) confession.

Sunghoon’s lips quirked into an almost imperceptible smile, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes but was still full of something, something that made your skin crawl. "Something like that," he said, his voice smooth and utterly calm, like he was the one in control of the situation, like you didn’t have a say in this at all. "I mean, think about it. You’re already here, asking me what you can do for me. You’re not exactly in a position to make demands."

You froze.

This was it. This was where he trapped you, where the ridiculousness of it all became so real you couldn’t deny it anymore. You wanted to fight back, to argue, to find some way to get out of it, but the reality was clear: If you didn’t play along with this, if you didn’t accept this weird, humiliating deal, he would ruin you.

He would ruin the last shred of your dignity, and you knew it.

So, you swallowed your pride. Your heart felt like it was going to stop, a painful flutter settling in your chest as you stared at him. "And if I refuse?" you asked, knowing the answer before he even gave it.

Sunghoon didn’t need to think about it. He didn’t even look surprised. "Then Riki gets the letter," he said simply. "and you can’t be mad at me for it. You dropped it. You gave it to me. That’s your choice."

It was the coldest, most efficient power move you had ever experienced. And in that moment, it hit you—he had already won.

He didn’t need to ask for much. All he wanted was control, and you were about to hand it to him on a silver platter.

You sighed. There was no escaping it now. You had no choice. You didn’t want to be here, bargaining your way through this twisted mess, but Sunghoon’s eyes were so deadpan, so assured, that you couldn’t summon the strength to push back anymore.

"Fine," you muttered, feeling your skin burn with the embarrassment of it all. "I'll do whatever you want. Just please don’t tell anyone about the letter." You want to tell your feelings to Riki personally.

Sunghoon’s smirk grew wider, like he had expected you to cave all along. He pushed himself off the wall and took a slow step forward, narrowing the space between you two.

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. You had no idea what was coming. He lowered his voice as if it were some sort of weird consolation prize. "I’ll let you eat lunch with me, at least."

You wanted to disappear, to evaporate, to never show your face in this school again. But the look in Sunghoon’s eyes told you that wasn’t an option. This was real. This was happening. And you?

You were officially Park Sunghoon’s school dog.

──────────────────

By now, you had accepted your fate. It had been months since you sold your soul, no, your dignity to Park Sunghoon in exchange for him keeping quiet about The letter. Months of being yanked around like some poor, lost soul who had wandered into a contractual nightmare with no exit clause.

You weren’t sure which part was worse: the daily humiliation, the psychological warfare, or the fact that you were getting used to it.

Sunghoon hadn’t wasted a single second of his power over you. From the moment you agreed to be his so-called school dog, he had ensured that your life became one long, never-ending exercise in absolute servitude.

And the worst part? No one even questioned it anymore. It had gone on for so long that people just… accepted it.

Your descent into scholarly servitude had begun subtly. Small things, little requests that felt more like casual favors than public degradation.

"Hold my bag."

"Get me water."

"Wake me up if I fall asleep in class."

Easy. Manageable.

You could do those things without completely hating yourself. But then it escalated.

Suddenly, you were running across campus to buy him snacks during break, you were saving a seat for him in the cafeteria like some pitiful placeholder, he was flicking your forehead when you weren’t quick enough with his demands, like you were some personal assistant from hell.

You tried to push back at first. You really did. But Sunghoon had a way of making you comply, without even trying that hard.

"You could just quit," he’d say with a careless shrug, tossing your own words back at you. "But if you do, I guess Riki might finally find out about that letter. I’m sure he’d find it... interesting."

Checkmate. Again.

And so, you stayed. You obeyed. You suffered. It got so bad that even the teachers stopped questioning why you were always lingering near Sunghoon like some overworked intern.

"Oh, are you running another errand for Sunghoon?" one of them had asked once, completely unbothered.

"Good teamwork!" GOOD TEAMWORK? This was not a team. This was indentured servitude.

It had been months, and the horrors you had endured were starting to take permanent residence in your psyche. There was no low too low.

No request is too ridiculous. You had been sent to retrieve his lost pencil case from the third-floor library (which he could have easily done himself). You had been forced to lend him your notebook for three consecutive weeks because he couldn’t be bothered to take his own notes.

You had once… once been made to stand in line for 45 minutes just to buy him a stupid limited-edition drink from the vending machine because he didn’t feel like waiting. And, in what might have been the most humiliating moment of all, you had been coerced into tying his shoelaces in the middle of the hallway.

Right in front of everyone. It had happened so fast you hadn’t even processed it. One second, you were walking side by side (well, more like you were dragging your feet behind him like a loyal hound), and the next, he had come to a stop, looking down at his undone laces with the slowest, most deliberate sigh of all time.

And then—he had looked at you. No words. Just a look. You had known exactly what he wanted. But you had still dared to hope.

"No," you had whispered, a desperate plea for mercy. Sunghoon had simply raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

And that was how you had found yourself squatting on the floor, tying the laces of Park Sunghoon’s expensive sneakers like some medieval servant in an empire that thrived off unpaid labor. Sunoo had walked past and actually choked on his drink.

Jungwon had muttered something about "power dynamics" under his breath. Jay had snapped a photo and laughed until he fell onto a bench. And Sunghoon?

Sunghoon had stood there, hands in his pockets, watching your soul leave your body, before saying in the driest tone possible: "Good job. You missed a loop, though."

You could have murdered him.

At some point, you stopped actively resisting. It wasn’t acceptance. It wasn't a resignation. It was just... easier to do what Sunghoon wanted than to fight it. You still complained.

You still insulted him under your breath whenever he wasn’t looking. But you did the tasks. You showed up when he called (because he always called). You got his things without arguing (because arguing never worked).

You were losing yourself. And what was worse? Sunghoon knew.

He knew.

Because these days, he doesn't even have to say anything. He’d just look at you. A small, expectant tilt of the head. A faint lift of his eyebrows. Maybe a little smirk if he was feeling particularly cruel. And you’d immediately know what he wanted. There was no escape. There was no winning against Park Sunghoon.

You were his school dog.

And he was never letting you go.

──────────────────

It started like any other day. Another miserable, exhausting, Sunghoon-infested day where you were being dragged around like a personal errand runner with no salary, no benefits, and no escape clause.

You had long since abandoned the idea of rebellion—fighting back never worked, ignoring him never worked, and outright running away just resulted in more work. At this point, it was muscle memory. Sunghoon beckoned, and like a well-trained idiot, you responded.

And, as always, you obeyed, because what other choice did you have? You were trapped in this unwritten contract, and until he got bored (which, knowing Sunghoon, was never), you were stuck. Today’s mission was simple—carry his books. Because, apparently, carrying his own books was beneath him.

God, if only you weren't that down bad to Riki.

You weren’t sure when you had fully transitioned from human being to glorified pack mule, but here you were, arms full, dragging your feet behind him as he strolled through the hallways like some entitled monarch surveying his kingdom.

"You know, you could carry at least one of these yourself," you muttered, shifting the weight of the books so they wouldn’t snap your spine in half. Sunghoon barely spared you a glance. "I could." There was a pause before he added, almost lazily, "But I won’t." You wanted to throw one of the books at his head.

The hallways were suffocating, the walls pressing in on you with their peeling paint and the distant hum of old fluorescent lights. You could hear students laughing somewhere nearby, the sound muffled under the pounding in your skull.

You weren’t sure if it was from frustration or actual physical strain, but each step felt heavier than the last. Your breath came shorter, your limbs tingling with that annoying, familiar numbness you had long since learned to ignore.

By the time you reached the courtyard, the sun was brutal, the heat pressing down on your already exhausted body like a physical weight. Your chest felt tight, your breath uneven, and your vision had started getting that weird blurry quality, like everything was just slightly out of focus. You were used to pushing through it, used to ignoring the warning signs, but today—it felt worse. Heavier. Like something was seriously off.

"Hurry up," Sunghoon drawled, glancing back when he noticed you lagging. "At this rate, we’ll be here all day." You wanted to snap at him, tell him to shut up, to carry his own damn books for once, but the words got caught somewhere in your throat. Your head was pounding. Your breathing was shallow. And then—

A warm trickle ran down your upper lip.

You lifted a hand to your face, confused, dazed—and when you pulled it away, your fingers were stained red.

Oh. Shit.

For a moment, everything slowed down. Your brain struggled to catch up, to make sense of it—because, sure, nosebleeds weren’t uncommon. You’d had them before. But this one felt... different. It wasn’t just a few drops—it was flowing, fast and unrelenting, staining your uniform, dripping onto the pavement. The alarm in your chest flickered into panic.

Sunghoon’s voice cut through the haze, sharp but still laced with boredom. "What are you doing? Keep moving—" But when you didn’t respond, when you didn’t immediately snap back at him with some sarcastic remark, he actually turned to look at you.

His entire expression shifted.

His smirk dropped, his usual detached amusement flickering into something sharper, more focused. He stared, his gaze flicking between your face, your hand, the growing stain on your sleeve. "What the—"

Your body swayed.

The heat, the exhaustion, the struggle to breathe, it all crashed over you at once. The books in your arms slipped from your grasp, the sound of them hitting the pavement barely registering in your ears. The world around you tilted, the sun overhead blurring into streaks of white, the ground rising to meet you in a slow, dizzying spiral.

Sunghoon’s voice, usually so calm, so infuriatingly composed, suddenly wasn’t.

"Hey—"

But you didn’t hear the rest.

Because by then,

Everything had gone black.

──────────────────

The first thing you registered was the beeping.

Slow, steady, rhythmic. A sound that felt both familiar and foreign, like something from a dream you couldn’t quite place. It was a gentle, persistent pulse in the distance, matching the sluggish, heavy thrum of your own heart—a reminder that, against all odds, you were still here.

Then came the sensation of weightlessness, a strange, floating feeling in your limbs that told you there was an IV in your arm, delivering whatever miracle fluids were keeping you tethered to consciousness. The air smelled clean, too clean, that sterile hospital scent that made your stomach churn with something uneasy.

The sheets beneath your fingers were stiff, scratchy, tucked too tightly around your legs, the kind of impersonal discomfort that made everything feel foreign. And when you finally managed to peel your eyes open, the world revealed itself in harsh, clinical lighting, white walls, white sheets, white curtains, the kind of blinding brightness that made everything feel too real.

You were in a hospital.

And, judging by the disapproving expression on the doctor standing beside your bed, this wasn’t just a precautionary visit.

The weight of it settled on your chest before she even spoke.

"You gave us quite the scare," the doctor started, her voice calm but carrying that particular tone that meant she was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. "Your friend said you just collapsed out of nowhere. A nosebleed first, then loss of consciousness. Does that happen often?"

You swallowed, your throat dry, like you had swallowed sandpaper instead of oxygen. You didn’t answer right away, because what were you supposed to say? That you had been ignoring every warning sign your body had been throwing at you? That the fatigue, the dizzy spells, the sudden shortness of breath had all become so normal that you just… stopped paying attention?

You could lie. You could wave it off, pretend it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing, was it? It was everything.

"I’m fine," you muttered instead, voice hoarse. "It was just the heat."

The doctor didn’t look amused.

"It wasn’t just the heat," she corrected. "It’s your heart."

There it was.

That single, unrelenting truth that you had spent so much time pretending didn’t exist.

You could feel your pulse in your ears, too slow, too uneven, like it was struggling to keep up. Dilated cardiomyopathy. A fancy way of saying your heart was weak, failing, not doing its job. And right now, that heart was betraying you, beating with the fragility of a thing that wasn’t meant to last.

The doctor sighed, softer this time. "Your condition is worsening."

Again, there it was.

The words hung in the air, settling over you like a weight too heavy to shake off. You had known, deep down, that things had been getting worse. You had felt it in the exhaustion that never quite went away, the way your body lagged behind your will, the increasing difficulty in simply existing.

But hearing it out loud made it real in a way that knocked the breath from your lungs.

"We’re going to run more tests," the doctor continued, her voice gentler now, like she was trying to ease you into something inevitable. "But you need to start taking this seriously. You can’t keep pushing yourself like this. If you do..." She hesitated, and that hesitation was the most terrifying thing of all.

"If I do?" you prompted, though you already knew the answer.

The doctor exhaled. "If you do, your heart might not be able to handle it."

Again.

The quiet, clinical, devastating way she was telling you what you had been trying to outrun all this time.

If you kept pushing, if you kept acting like you were fine, if you didn’t start taking this seriously—

You wouldn’t make it.

The room was too quiet. The only sound was the slow, mechanical beeping of the heart monitor, filling the space with its eerie, measured certainty. Each beep felt like a countdown, a cruel reminder that time was moving forward whether you wanted it to or not.

You turned your head, staring at the ceiling, feeling the slow, methodical rhythm of your own heartbeat. It felt wrong. Weak. Like it wasn’t yours anymore. Like it belonged to someone else, someone who had always been meant to break.

You thought about school. About walking through the halls, about Sunghoon ordering you around, about the months you had spent running yourself into the ground for things that, in the end, didn’t even matter. You thought about Riki, about that stupid letter, about how ridiculous it was that all of this started because you just didn’t want to die single.

But as your thoughts spiraled, as your mind traced back over every little moment, every order you had obeyed, every ridiculous task you had completed without hesitation, a quiet, terrifying realization settled in your chest.

You hadn’t just been doing it to keep Sunghoon from telling Riki.

Somewhere along the way, somewhere between the eye rolls and the reluctant errands, between the lazy smirks and the stupid tasks, between the way he always knew when you were tired and the way his gaze lingered just a little too long.

You had started doing it for him.

Because somewhere along the way, you had started falling for him.

And now, lying in this too-white, too-quiet hospital room, with the reality of your own failing body settling over you like a suffocating weight, you felt something that had nothing to do with your heart condition.

You felt scared.

Not just of dying, but of leaving before you could figure out what this feeling even meant.

Before you could figure out what he meant to you.

Before you could figure out what you meant to him.

Because if you meant anything at all…

Wouldn’t he be here?

Wouldn't he have stayed?

The thought made your throat tighten, your fingers curling into the stiff sheets beneath you.

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was easier if nothing changed.

Because if Sunghoon knew, if he found out just how much he had started to matter.

You weren’t sure if your heart could handle it.

And this time, that wasn’t just a metaphor.

──────────────────

Sunghoon noticed the silence first.

It wasn’t obvious at first glance, the hallways were still loud, the students still restless, the usual chaos of high school life carrying on like always. But something was off. Something that made his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger.

You weren’t there.

It should’ve been relief. You being gone should’ve meant peace and quiet, a break from having to summon you with a lazy flick of his fingers, a break from your sighs and sarcastic quips whenever he told you to do something. A break from your presence, that sharp, undeniable force that had somehow embedded itself into his life before he could even stop it.

But it wasn’t relief.

It was just wrong.

Sunghoon sat in his usual seat, elbow propped on his desk, fingers tapping against the smooth surface in slow, restless beats. He wasn’t the type to notice small things. He didn’t care when people switched seats, didn’t pay attention when someone got a new haircut, didn’t really bother keeping track of who was absent or present.

But you?

He noticed everything about you.

And now, all he could notice was that you were gone.

The silence in the classroom seemed to stretch out, growing heavier as he sat there, barely hearing the teacher’s voice. He kept looking toward the door, half-expecting you to walk through it, your usual nonchalant self, but you never did.

And every minute you were gone felt like an eternity.

Sunghoon wasn’t an idiot. He knew how people saw him as cold, detached, and impossible to read. And he let them believe it, because that was easier. It was easier to pretend nothing mattered than to admit that some things did.

And you?

You had always mattered.

It started long before the letter incident. Long before the school dog nonsense. Long before he even had a reason to interact with you. It had started in small moments, in fleeting glances, in the way his eyes always seemed to find you without meaning to.

He had watched you from a distance.

Always.

Not in a weird way, not in a way that would make anyone think too hard about it—but in a way that stuck. You had a presence that was impossible to ignore, no matter how hard he tried. You weren’t loud, you weren’t dramatic, you weren’t someone who demanded attention.

And yet.

Somehow, you had his.

You had it when you sat in class, twirling your pencil between your fingers, staring out the window like you were anywhere but here. You had it when you walked through the halls, always a little aloof, always just a little removed, like there was some part of you that wasn’t fully tethered to this place.

You had it before you even knew you had it.

And then, the letter.

The stupid, poorly timed, completely accidental letter.

Sunghoon still didn’t know what possessed him to pick it up that day. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was just the excuse he had been waiting for.

Because the moment he held that letter, the moment he saw your handwriting, your words, your stupid beeper number he knew he was never going to give it back.

Not to Riki.

Not to anyone.

And instead of letting it go, instead of forgetting about it like he should have.

He used it.

He made up some ridiculous excuse, a power play, a way to keep you close.

School dog, my ass.

It had been so stupid. So immature, so unnecessary. But it had worked. It had kept you there. And that was all that mattered.

Because Sunghoon, despite everything, despite how he acted, despite how much he tried to deny it.

He just wanted to be near you.

Now, sitting in class without you, the emptiness in his chest gnawed at him. It wasn’t a sense of relief or peace that he felt—no, it was longing. It was the kind of ache he couldn’t explain, couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried to bury it under layers of apathy.

It wasn’t just about the tasks anymore, about the way he made you fetch his books or run his errands. It wasn’t even about the control he thought he had over you, the power he wielded just by making you his school dog. It was something deeper. Something far more unsettling.

He had tried to keep things casual, tried to convince himself that he was just messing with you, just finding a way to pass time, but that was a lie.

A damn lie.

The truth was that he had been watching you from the shadows for so long that when the opportunity to pull you into his orbit had arrived, he had taken it without thinking. He had dragged you into his little game because, in some twisted way, he thought it would make him feel better. But instead, it made him feel like a fraud.

Because every time he made you do something, every time you ran after him like some obedient pet, every time he saw you slumping with exhaustion after hours of doing his bidding, he wasn’t feeling triumphant.

He was feeling guilty.

And now, here he was sitting in a classroom, a half-empty desk across from him, with nothing but regret and desire burning through him like a flame that he couldn’t extinguish.

The guilt was suffocating.

Because he had made you into something you weren’t, something you didn’t deserve to be. He had used the letter as an excuse to get closer to you, to feed into this weird, unhealthy dynamic between the two of you, and now you were probably gone.

Now, you weren’t there to push around anymore.

And the truth? The truth was, Sunghoon didn’t care about the tasks or the commands. He didn’t care about having someone to do his bidding. He cared about you. He cared about your presence in his life, about the way your eyes would roll whenever he made a stupid request, about the way you would sigh and do it anyway, your silent, reluctant obedience making something twist inside him.

Now, without you, everything felt empty.

At lunch, the others noticed. They always did.

"You’re quieter than usual," Jay said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Something up?"

Sunghoon didn’t answer.

Jake nudged him with his foot under the table. "Missing your little school dog?"

The comment was supposed to be a joke. Lighthearted. Something to tease him with, like always.

But it made something in Sunghoon clench.

Because yes.

Yes, he missed you.

But not the way they thought. Not because he didn’t have anyone to carry his books or fetch his drinks.

He missed you because it was you.

Because even when you rolled your eyes, even when you groaned, even when you called him an annoying tyrant under your breath.

You were still there.

And now, you weren’t.

And it was his fault.

Sunghoon stood up abruptly, ignoring the looks the others gave him.

"Where are you going?" Sunoo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sunghoon didn’t answer.

Because, honestly?

He didn’t know.

All he knew was that he needed a plan to fix this.

The truth was Sunghoon had never wanted a school dog.

He had just wanted you.

──────────────────

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. The sterile white walls, the sharp scent of antiseptic, the cold metal of the IV stand—all of it blurred together in the background as you stared at the doctor standing at the foot of your bed.

His expression was careful, the kind of practiced neutrality doctors wore when they were about to deliver news that would change your life.

"We’ve reviewed your latest test results," he began, his voice calm but firm. "And I won’t sugarcoat it, you need a heart transplant. Immediately."

You knew this was coming. You had known for a long time that your condition was getting worse, that the fatigue and dizzy spells weren’t just bad days but signs of something irreversible. Still, hearing it out loud, the finality of it made something inside you cave.

"We’ve already put you on the transplant list," the doctor continued, flipping through your chart. "But," He stopped, hesitating for a moment before looking at you again. "You’re lucky. We found a donor a few days ago. A perfect match."

You blinked. "A donor?"

The words didn’t make sense at first. You had been bracing for months, years even, for an indefinite wait. For the uncertainty. For the possibility that a match wouldn’t come in time. But now, now it was here? Just like that?

"Yes," the doctor said. "The heart is in excellent condition. We’ve already done all the necessary compatibility tests, and if everything goes well, we’ll be scheduling your surgery soon."

Your hands tightened around the thin hospital blanket. There was a strange weight to this news, something you couldn’t quite place. It was relief, yes, but also something else, something heavier.

"Who?" You hesitated, licking your dry lips. "Who was the donor?"

The doctor’s face remained unreadable. "I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information."

Your heart stuttered.

It's just that someone had died a few days ago. Someone young enough, healthy enough, for their heart to be a perfect match for yours. And now it was yours for the taking.

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the strange unease creeping into your chest. This was good news. It was supposed to be good news.

You were recovering. Slowly, but surely. It had taken time, more than you wanted to admit, but you were on the mend. The doctors were hopeful.

You hadn’t been told about the donor. They didn’t tell you much. You didn’t ask too many questions. The only thing that mattered was that you were going to be okay. The rest of it felt like background noise to you.

And so, you recovered. You were still you just a little weaker, a little more fragile than before but you were back. Back to school, back to seeing people, back to facing the world. The hardest part had been getting back into the rhythm of everything, pretending like the last few weeks hadn’t happened.

You walked through the halls like you always had, but something was missing. It wasn’t just the way the world felt different after being so close to death. It was the way everything had changed without you even realizing it. There were new faces, new conversations, but something about this place seemed quieter than it used to be.

You didn’t see Sunghoon.

And that was... unsettling.

It was during lunch when it happened. You were sitting with some friends, nibbling on your food, when Riki approached. You didn’t expect it, but you should’ve. Riki had been around, had been supportive, and it wasn’t the first time he’d checked in on you. But this time, something felt different about his presence. There was a look in his eyes, a sadness you hadn’t seen before.

"Hey," Riki said quietly, standing beside your table, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had a letter in his hand, folded neatly, looking so out of place in the cafeteria.

You frowned, noticing the way his eyes wouldn’t quite meet yours. "What’s this?"

He hesitated for a long moment, glancing over his shoulder before sitting down across from you. He unfolded the letter, and his voice softened. "I don’t know how to say this, but... I think you should read this. It’s from Sunghoon."

You blinked, confused. "Sunghoon? What’s going on?"

Riki didn’t answer right away. He just handed you the letter, the words scrawled in that familiar handwriting you had long since associated with his teasing and laziness. But this was different. This was more than just some casual note or school business.

You opened the letter carefully, feeling the weight of it, his words pressing against you like a secret you weren’t sure you were ready for.

And as you read, you could feel your chest tighten with each line. The letter was long, longer than any note he’d written you before, and it was more than an apology. It was a confession.

"I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I don’t even know if I’m brave enough to send this to you, but here goes. I want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry for making you feel like you had no choice but to do what I said. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I never meant for things to go this way."

You stopped for a second, feeling something stir in your chest, confusion, guilt, maybe even relief. This was Sunghoon. The Sunghoon you had never expected to say anything like this.

The next words hit harder.

I know you must hate me by now. I wouldn’t blame you. But please hear me out. When I made you my 'school dog,' I never meant for it to be like this. I just didn’t know how else to be around you. You were always so far away, so different from everyone else. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand that you didn’t need me. But I needed you. I don’t know when it happened, but I fell for you. I did. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. I thought maybe I could just have you close, even if I had to make you do stupid things for me. I thought it was funny at first. But the more I did it, the more I realized I was hurting you.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a quiet storm, and every sentence felt like it was cracking something deep inside of you.

I never meant for you to feel this way. Never. And I hate myself for making you feel used. I didn’t realize how much I relied on you until I didn’t have you around anymore. I’m sorry. And I’ll never be able to make up for what I’ve done. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to apologize to you in person, but I hope you can forgive me someday. I’m sorry. Please, just know this, it was always you. It was always you I was looking at, even when I wasn’t looking.

You stopped reading for a moment, trying to breathe through the rush of emotions. The weight of his words was too much. Too much for you to absorb all at once.

I’m not good at this, I wanna page your beeper, but I have a lot of things to say so it’s probably a bad idea to do, he had written, but if you need anything—if you ever need to talk or scream at me for being an idiot—I’m here. I promise you, I’ll be here.

And then came the final lines. They were short. Simple. And yet they carried the weight of everything you hadn’t realized you’d been hoping to hear.

I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even know if I can forgive myself. But if you can, if you want to, please just know that I was trying to be better. I wanted to be better for you."

Your heart stopped for a moment, still clenching, as your hand shook around the letter. Riki, who had been quietly watching you, sighed and leaned forward slightly. "Sunghoon... he said that to me once, you know?"

You looked at Riki, trying to process the rush of feelings that were still swirling inside you.

He gave you a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and reached for the letter in your hands. "He told me about everything. The letter, the deal you two had, before the accident."

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

Riki hesitated. His eyes grew dim as he looked down at the table. "He was on his way to visit you. He was going to apologize. He had flowers for you. He had this letter too… I’m sorry."

Your stomach dropped. The words didn’t make sense. "What do you mean? Was he okay?"

Riki’s voice cracked, and he looked away, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "He didn’t make it. he didn’t survive. He was hit, they tried to save him, but it was too late."

“He was your donor."

Your entire world tilted. The room felt like it was closing in on you. The beeping in your ears grew louder, drowning out everything else. No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t have been him. Sunghoon had died. The person who had caused you so much pain, the person who had pushed you to your limits, had died... and somehow, you had his heart.

Riki stood up, his voice quiet but firm as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "I don’t know what to say, but... I know he would’ve wanted you to have it. His heart. Not in this way, he would’ve wanted you to be his dear, I think he was just too afraid to say it out loud."

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even think. The overwhelming weight of the truth, the reality that Sunghoon had been there for you in a way you never imagined tore through you. He had given you his heart, and now, in the cruelest twist of fate, it was the very thing that kept you alive.

You stared down at the letter in your hands, your fingers trembling, your vision blurred with tears you couldn’t quite hold back.

Riki’s voice was quiet as he placed the letter back in front of you. "He was trying to apologize. He was trying to make things right... and now you have his heart. I know it doesn’t make sense... but maybe, just maybe, this is how it was meant to be."

And as you sat there, still holding the letter, you realized one thing.

No matter how many apologies were written, no matter how much time passed, you would never be able to undo what had happened what you had never even understood. You had Sunghoon’s heart, but it would never be enough to fill the void he had left behind.

You just hoped that, somehow, wherever he was, Sunghoon had found the peace he never gave you while he’s still full of life.

──────────────────

In all honesty, Sunghoon had never been good at talking about his feelings. He had always preferred silence, preferred letting his actions speak for themselves, no matter how frustrating or cryptic they might have seemed to others. But that night, standing under the dim lights outside the convenience store, with Riki shoving a pack of chips into his hands like it was some kind of peace offering, he felt something heavy press against his chest.

Something that needed to be said.

Riki was already halfway through his drink, barely paying attention as he scrolled through his beeper messages. He looked up only when he noticed Sunghoon hadn’t moved in the past few minutes. "Dude, why do you look like you’re about to confess to me?"

Sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes, but the usual bite wasn’t there. "Shut up."

Riki grinned, but it faded when he caught the tension in Sunghoon’s expression. "Okay, seriously. What’s up?"

There was a beat of silence. Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, staring down at the condensation gathering on his drink can.

"You remember that letter?" he asked finally, his voice quieter than usual.

Riki frowned, setting his drink down. "What letter?"

Sunghoon clenched his jaw before forcing himself to say it. "The one that was meant for you."

It took a second, but then realization hit. Riki blinked, brows furrowing as he sat up straighter. "Wait. You mean—"

"Yeah," Sunghoon cut in before he could finish the thought. "That one."

Riki was staring now, full attention locked on him, his usual carefree demeanor slipping away. "Okay… And why are we bringing this up now?"

Sunghoon swallowed, fingers tightening around his drink. He had spent so long pretending like the letter hadn’t meant anything, like it had just been an opportunity to mess with you, to keep you close. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. He had kept the letter not because it was leverage, but because it had meant something to him because it had been about him, and for once, he had wanted to hold on to something that wasn’t fleeting.

"Because I should’ve told you sooner," he admitted, voice low. "It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t some random crush. She actually liked you dude."

Riki didn’t say anything at first, just watching him carefully. And then, to Sunghoon’s surprise, he let out a small, quiet laugh one that held zero amusement.

"You’re an idiot," Riki muttered, shaking his head.

Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up. "What?"

Riki sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I knew."

Sunghoon stilled. "What do you mean, you knew?"

Riki exhaled through his nose. "I had a feeling. I just wasn’t sure. And besides, it never felt like she was into me like that, not after your deal with her."

Sunghoon’s fingers twitched. "Stop fucking around dude, it’s real, she liked you."

Riki gave him a dry look. "It wasn’t about me anymore, dumbass. It was about you."

Sunghoon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Riki continued, "She looked at you more than she ever looked at me. I don’t think she even realized it herself. But I saw it. I saw the way she followed you around, the way she complained but still did everything you told her to. I saw the way you looked at her too, by the way. You’re not as subtle as you think you are."

Sunghoon looked away, his grip tightening around the can. "It doesn’t matter now," he muttered. "I fucked it up. She probably hates me."

Riki didn’t deny it. He didn’t need to.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked instead.

Sunghoon let out a slow breath. "I’m going to see her. I need to fix this."

Riki studied him for a moment before nodding. "Good. You should give her everything she deserved because you are an idiot. "

And with that, Sunghoon tossed his drink in the trash, grabbed the bag of flowers and the letter from his pocket, and left, never knowing that he would never make it to you.

──────────────────

Present, 2024

"Ryoko, stop running. Your heart, my baby."

Your voice rang out through the warm summer air, but your daughter was already too far ahead, her tiny feet kicking up dust as she dashed across the grassy field.

Ryoko didn’t listen. She’s always full of life despite of her condition.

"Mama, I’m fine!" she called back, laughing breathlessly as she dodged between trees, her little white sneakers barely making a sound against the earth. "I’m super fast, see?”

You sighed, placing a hand over your chest as if that would ease the tight, familiar worry sitting in your ribcage. "That’s not the point, love. You know you have to be careful."

From beside you, Riki chuckled, reaching over to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "She’s fine," he murmured into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You worry too much."

You huffed, turning to glare at him, but there was no real fire behind it. "She’s six, Hun, she has my heart."

His expression softened, his grip around you tightening just a little. He knew what you meant. He always did.

"Our heart," he corrected gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "And it’s strong. Just like you."

You swallowed, nodding, but the unease never fully left your chest. Ryoko was so full of life, so free-spirited and wild, with that same stubborn spark you once had before hospitals, before surgeries, before the weight of things you couldn’t change settled into your bones.

Before him.

Before Sunghoon.

The thought crept in before you could stop it, uninvited yet lingering like a familiar ghost.

It had been years. So many years. Years filled with happiness, with love, with laughter, with Riki. Years where you had moved forward, built a life, a family.

But some nights, when the world was quiet and your heart beat a little too steadily in your chest, you would remember.

You would remember the way Sunghoon had looked at you from across the classroom. The way he had smirked at you in the hallways, so effortlessly confident. The way he had made your life miserable only for you to realize, too late, that it had been his way of keeping you close.

You would remember his letter. His words. The apology he had written but never got to say in person.

And you would wonder.

What if?

What if Sunghoon had made it to the hospital that day? What if he had never stepped onto that street? What if he had never picked up your letter in the first place? Would things have been different? Would you have loved him the way you loved Riki now? Would you have been happy?

Or would it have all ended the same way—him, gone. You, left behind.

The wind blew softly, rustling the leaves around you.

"Hey," Riki murmured, his voice pulling you back to the present. His fingers brushed against yours, anchoring you. "You’re thinking again."

You exhaled slowly, giving him a small smile. "I’m always thinking."

"Yeah, but you’re thinking about him." Riki didn’t sound upset. “I miss him too, baby. He was my bro.” Your husband chuckled, there was no jealousy, no resentment—just understanding. He had known you too long, loved you too long, to be threatened by a memory.

You lowered your gaze, squeezing his hand. "I think I always will."

Riki nodded, pulling you into him, resting his chin atop your head. "That’s okay."

A small giggle snapped you both out of the moment, and you turned just in time to see Ryoko running back toward you, her tiny hands clutching a handful of wildflowers. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath quick but steady and healthy. Alive.

"Look!" she beamed, holding out the flowers proudly. "I got these for you, Mama!"

Your heart clenched, and for a brief second, the world blurred not from sadness, not from grief, but from something softer. Something warmer.

You knelt down, brushing a strand of hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "They’re beautiful, my love. Thank you."

Ryoko giggled again before running off toward the picnic blanket, already distracted by something else, her small body glowing under the golden afternoon sun.

Riki watched her go, then turned back to you, his eyes full of something deep, something steady.

"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.

You met his gaze, really met it, letting the question settle between you.

Were you happy? Yes, very.

You thought of Ryoko’s laugh, of the warmth of Riki’s hand in yours, of the love that had carried you through everything, through grief, through healing, through the unfairness of it all.

And then, softly, you nodded.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I am."

Because this was your life now.

And even though the past would always be there, even though Sunghoon’s heart still beat inside of you, even though there would always be a small part of you that wondered what could have been—

You were happy, because a part of him is still alive within you.

And that was enough.

#enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #kpop fanfic #enhypen niki #angst #fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen au #sunghoon x reader #niki x reader #ni ki #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon #enhypen soft hours #enhypen angst #niki enhypen #sunghoon enhypen

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purplepaigepurple535 · 29 days ago

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hey y'all, this is a research paper i wrote in my advanced research seminar... by popular demand im gonna post it because i think it ended up being really interesting. the books i read to do this were also so so good, like BG's autobiography and pat summitt's too. took me like a week to write but it was so so interesting. hope u guys like it!

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From Scrutiny to Stardom: The Media Evolution of Women’s College Basketball

Research question: To what extent have media portrayals of women’s college basketball evolved from the ‘Old Era’ to the ‘New Era’, when did this turning point occur, and how much have these changes contributed to the sport’s growing popularity?

IB Extended Essay Language and Literature: Category 3

3,990 Words

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Introduction

Women’s college basketball: the cultural phenomenon that floods social media pages around the world. It seems as though it came out of nowhere, materializing in the early 2020s and sticking around since. But the truth is, it's always been around. Sitting on the back burner, waiting for its time to shine, while men’s sports dominated the media, the fans, and the world. As recounted by WNBA Star Brittney Griner, it survived periods where it would only be mentioned as a side note regarding a player’s gender, sexuality, or race. It thrived in moments of unbridled competition and fierce opposition. A dynamic, exciting, emotionally stimulating game, women’s college basketball is a rollercoaster that’s been bringing fans on an thrilling ride for decades.

Between 1990 and 2020 (the “Old Era”) the game was defined by big rivalries like UConn vs. Tennessee and UConn vs. Notre Dame, and ended up producing stars such as Diana Taurasi (drafted from UConn in 2004), Candace Parker (from Tennessee, 2008), Tina Charles (UConn, 2010), and Maya Moore (UConn, 2011). Powerhouse programs, like those which the game’s biggest stars played for, dominated the game both competitively and culturally.

But from the resurgence of Geno Auriemma’s legendary UConn dynasty in 2025 to the short stint of Caitlin Clark and Lisa Bluder’s Iowa squad in the early 2020s, women's college basketball is changing drastically. The star-studded sport is making headlines, breaking records, and drawing in more viewership than it’s ever seen. Some think this emergence seems out of the blue, unpredictable even, but in reality it has been brewing for quite some time. Since being sponsored by the NCAA in 1982, the sport has seen hundreds of iconic, big-name players.

Marking the transition from the ‘Old Era’ to the ‘New Era’ (2020-present), players like Taurasi, Charles, and Parker started to be replaced by modern legends like Breanna Stewart, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson. But, what makes today’s game different from the past isn’t just great players. It’s how much the world sees of them, their personalities, and their presence off the court. Though the problem was that, before social media, the only sources of information for fans would be heavily manipulated media narratives and expertly crafted headlines. Platforms like Facebook (started in 2004) and Instagram (2010) helped athletes to show their own personal styles and connect directly with their fans on a different level. Players’ hobbies, traits, skills, and sexualities have all become common grounds for healthy bonding with fans. More people celebrating their differences and appreciating their similarities, a major contrast to the judgemental and scrutinizing nature of the world before social media. This has come hand in hand with cultural shifts over the last few years, with the growing visibility of LGBTQ athletes and creation of online fan communities that have changed how enthusiasts engage with the sport.

Perhaps fueled by their well-earned “hype” on social media, the turning point in the sport’s popularity came after being blessed by the recruiting class of 2020. A group of electrifying, dynamic high school stars, the 2020 seniors were destined to have a major impact on their game at the collegiate level. They brought remarkable motivation and passion to the NCAA, taking their respective colleges by storm and playing hard through tremendous adversity. But even among incredible athletes like Angel Reese, Cameron Brink, Hailey Van Lith and Kamila Cardoso, two stars stood out above the rest. They became household names, cementing their identities as some of the greatest to ever grace the college basketball stage. Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers ignited the flame under the ‘New Era’ of women’s basketball.

Since Clark and Bueckers began to play in college, the sport is now fueled by social media visibility, cultural movements regarding gender and identity, and a new group of athletes who are just as famous and impactful on a ‘For You’ page as they are on the court. The surge in the appeal for women’s basketball today brings up an important question: To what extent have media portrayals of women’s college basketball evolved from the ‘Old Era’ to the ‘New Era’, when did this turning point occur, and how much have these changes contributed to the sport’s growing popularity? This essay will dive deeper into that transformation and conclusions drawn from it. As the world becomes more open and accepting of different identities, it seems as though the media has an important obligation to carefully and accurately represent female athletes, since the narratives that headlines build shape how the women are perceived.

The ‘Old Era’ Media Landscape

During the ‘Old Era’ (between 1990 and 2020), women’s college basketball was home to some of the biggest rivalries in sports. Even with the severely limited amount of media coverage allotted, most was taken up by such rivalries and the chaos surrounding them. Those rivalry matchups were often the ones streamed nationally, as opposed to standard regular season games. This era also saw the development of generational talents (for example, Taurasi, Parker, and Charles) who became household names and cemented themselves into basketball history. Some might think that the portrayals of those rivalries and athletes caused most media narratives to be straightforward, but that is far from the truth. This era in media was underlined by many cultural issues, which created a big challenge for anyone trying to represent the sport accurately.

This section will dive deeper into the specific characteristics of women’s basketball media during the ‘Old Era’. Two main parts will be examined: first, the struggle for widespread media visibility, and second, the way players are portrayed in media, more specifically pertaining to gender and sexuality. Both factors can be used to show the inconsistent and unfair representation of female athletes, since women’s and men’s sports often competed for broadcast slots in a world where men’s sports were highly dominant. It is important to understand these dynamics and stereotypes if viewers want to truly see female athletes for who they are and not just what the skewed media narratives show them to be.

A main example of the men’s vs. women’s theme going on during this ‘Old Era’, is how women’s college basketball games often needed to fight for prime-time slots on major television networks. Even though certain games invoked what would be considered more than enough interest to be broadcast, networks were not able to turn that interest into broadcast priority. Very solid ratings were given to the most anticipated matchups, as explained in Jeff Goldberg’s Unrivaled. For example the 1994 UConn vs. Tennessee game, an MLK Day special, earned a 1.0 rating nationally . Tennessee star Kellie Jolly also talked about the buzz around the game: "People were excited about women's basketball. That was huge for our sport [...] no game was talked about like Tennessee-Connecticut." Headlines regarding women’s basketball though, showed how much the world doubted the sport and its growth. An example of this is a 1994 article in The New York Times, headlined, “COLLEGE BASKETBALL; N.C.A.A. Women Are Tipping Off In Untapped Areas”. By using words like ‘untapped’ and ‘tipping off’, the headline implies that the sport is entering an area that the world never thought it would reach. Although the wording might have been questionable, it did what was rarely done at the time: it acknowledged that there was in fact a tipping point and women’s basketball was reaching it. This, along with the attention on the 1994 MLK game, were major accomplishments for the sport, proving that viewers would in fact tune in to nationally broadcasted games. This was to the great pleasure of many ESPN network executives, but was particularly appreciated by Carol Stiff, a women’s sports content coordinator who eventually rose to the position of Vice President of Women's Sports Programming & Acquisitions . In Unrivaled, she notes, "You couldn’t walk away from the fact that [the Martin Luther King Day] game rated a 1.0, at one in the afternoon. I was pretty thrilled with that number. I would love to get that nowadays." After great successes like the MLK day game in 1994, “the NCAA and major networks signed a new contract in the spring of 1995, granting ESPN exclusive broadcasting rights to the women’s regional finals and Final Four beginning in 1996”. This created exposure and the sport began to gain more traction.

The effects of this event, which seemed promising, quickly disappeared. Other networks took over the coverage of the main rivalry games, and their priorities were not always centered around women’s sports. As Goldberg explains, "the contract stated that the [UConn-Tennessee] game was under the SEC contract and CBS gets first choice.” Since they only needed to broadcast three regular season games, CBS would schedule them as triple-headers during the same time NFL wild card weekends. This caused the basketball matchups to go up against more popular football broadcasts. Stiff was upset about the situation, expressing how she didn’t think it was right that "big marquee game[s] in prime time" were often "put up against the NFL playoffs.”

These factors made the sport unable to reach a wider audience, causing rivals to play multiple times in a season just to gain viewership.

Tennessee legend Pat Summitt talks in her autobiography Sum It Up about a conversation she had with her greatest nemesis, UConn coach and 12-time national champion Geno Auriemma. She explains that one of the few things she and Auriemma had in common was their interest in growing the sport. Summitt agreed to Auriemma’s proposal for the ESPN game on MLK day, even though her team was clearly disadvantaged. Summitt stated, "I couldn’t say no. I’d always felt a tremendous responsibility to give back to the game... So I said yes. And we lost.” This decision she made, which prioritized the good of the sport over her own team, shows how most coaches were very dedicated to improving the visibility of the game. The stubbornness and blatant sexism of TV networks led coaches and players to react and make decisions they might not have otherwise made, simply to increase viewership.

Society in the ‘Old Era’ also put a lot of pressure on female athletes. Instead of just being appreciated for their talent on the court, they were examined and judged on other parts of their identities. The media compared things like gender, where women’s basketball players would be put up against their male counterparts, and their “femininity” would be questioned. Brittney Griner’s experience, as she documents in her autobiography In My Skin, serves as a way to understand the scrutiny faced by female athletes regarding their identities. In the book, Griner talks about the public obsession with her physical appearance, gender, and sexuality as a 6’9” gay woman. She explains, “My decision [...] fueled crazy conspiracy theories about me—how I'm secretly a man, and I wanted to avoid genetic testing at the Olympics." This created an environment where discussions about the physical appearance and gender conformity of the female athletes moved focus away from their true skill in-game. Instead of putting in the majority of their effort on improving their game, they needed to navigate a world where their value wouldn’t even be judged on it. Griner’s quote can be tied to the themes of “ignorance and hate” that Griner had mentioned earlier in her book, which emphasizes how societal biases played a main role in the invasive media narratives. This speculation about things out of Griner’s control undermined her achievements and forced viewers to talk about her personal identity instead. It exemplifies the added burden on female athletes during that period, one that made them defend themselves against public scrutiny, and one that was barely ever seen by men’s players.

The uncertainty and hate for LGBTQ athletes was way more constrained in the ‘Old Era’. Even though social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram were out at that point, there was still not much discussion or acceptance about or for LGBTQ athletes yet. Because of that, media coverage of players’ sexuality was often careful, subtle, or just completely ignored. Media sources avoided those subjects because of preexisting stereotypes that limited how information could be conveyed non-judgmentally. As research done by sociologist Michael Messner concluded, "women’s sports get much less coverage, claimed to be because of stereotypes or lack of enthusiasm.” That lack of support and harsh environment meant that athletes needed to navigate their careers while also considering dominant societal norms. Thus proving why it was so important for the media to represent these athletes fairly and accurately, since any obscurities about their personal lives would be torn about and pull attention away from their game.

Evidently, the years from 1990-2020 made up a period where society not only judged women unfairly, but severely undervalued women’s sports and talent. A main cause of this was the pre-existing societal opinions of women and their abilities. Most media platforms were unable to keep up with the constant progression or inclusivity and acceptance, meaning that the sport was trying to grow within a society that wasn’t transforming fast enough. Because of that, the ‘Old Era’ of women’s college basketball was defined by its constant struggle to obtain prime-time media attention, in a world where any attention it did get would be consumed by judgement, homophobia, and other forms of hate. Broadcasting companies made decisions that proved to be detrimental to the sport’s growth and potential, as explained in Unrivaled and Sum It Up. This often forced coaches and players to make strategic decisions, for the sole purpose of increasing viewership. Instead of the thrill and skill of the game speaking for itself, attention was brought to the women’s basketball stage through the over-analysis of players’ identities and personal lives. The gender identities, sexualities, and races of players were all among characteristics that were scrutinized as opposed to those players’ skills themselves.

The Turning Point

Once players like Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers hit the women’s basketball stage, the sport hit what Malcom Gladwell refers to as “The Tipping Point”. This concept basically describes how "thoughts, ideas and behaviours spread like viruses... at a tremendous rate" under certain conditions. Players, media strategies, and growing cultural awareness combined to create the perfect combination of variables. The sport entered mainstream media, signaling the beginning of its increased popularity.

Gladwell’s theory involves the idea of people playing the parts of Connectors, Mavens, and Salesmen. Clark and Bueckers took on these roles for women’s college basketball. As connectors, their rivalries and individual skill helped to turn a diverse fan group into a connected community. Their personalities attracted many people, from casual sports fans to the basketball obsessed. The generated social media attention and headlines made them unavoidable, therefore drawing a larger audience to the sport. In addition to their connections, they also played the role of mavens, or “[people] who possess extensive knowledge and expertise on a particular topic or product, and actively seek to share that information with others.” Their generational skill and talent brought in lots of discussion: fans watched their games, celebrated their records, and invested emotionally in their journeys, transforming what used to be passive viewership into engagement. Finally, as salesmen, their charisma, athletic personalities, and major voices “sold” the sport. Interest in them moved past the court, causing them to become cultural figures whose stories were told widely, converting skeptics into fans.

The three main components of the “Tipping Point” theory are what Gladwell refers to as the “The Law of the Few”, the “Stickiness Factor” and the “Power of Context”, with the last two being the most relevant to the transformation of women’s basketball.. The “Stickiness Factor”, or “the unique quality that causes a phenomenon to stick in people's minds and influence their behaviour,” played an important role in the rapid development of the sport. Moments like Clark’s threes or Bueckers’ clutch plays made games more memorable and resonated with fans emotionally. The two players didn’t just make highlights, but culturally significant events. They were replayed and discussed across media platforms proving just how much the two players affected the game. Bueckers and Clark’s large followings on social media (2.6M and 3.3M on Instagram, respectively, and 3.8M and 702.9K on TikTok, respectively) are prime examples of how big of a role they play in modern media.

The “Power of Context” strongly affected the development of the sport as well. According to Ashley Crossmann of ThoughtCo, it’s “the idea that the environment or circumstances surrounding an idea, trend, or epidemic significantly influence whether it becomes widespread.” Luckily for women’s basketball, the modern cultural environment supported its growth and expansion. Society shifted during the ‘Old Era’, becoming more accepting of women in prominent roles. This ‘New Era’ built on those changes, setting the stage for the sport’s breakthrough, and pushing it over the “tipping point”. This ended up bringing in unprecedented viewership. For example, the 2024 Iowa-UConn Final Four game shattered records, becoming "the most-watched hoops game in ESPN history.” This isn’t just a statistic, but a tool that shows the major transition of the sport from a lesser-known interest to a popular phenomenon.

The ‘New Era’ Media Landscape

This new, modern landscape in the “Post-Caitlin/Paige” era is characterized by bolder marketing, the challenging of stereotypes, and greater acceptance of the athletes’ true identities. A direct challenge to the historical under-recognition of the game came through the ‘Everyone Watches Women’s Sports’ campaign, beginning in late 2023. This was created by TOGETHXR, a company trying to "uplift the next generation of women in sports.” The company was founded by female athletes Alex Morgan, Chloe Kim, Simone Manuel, and Sue Bird, which in turn brings in lots of credibility and authenticity to the opinions they convey. The EWWS campaign in particular targets a large audience. The slogan is declarative and it was put on various types of clothing, signaling their mass-appeal strategy. The message, “Everyone Watches Women’s Sports”, is deliberate and aspirational. This rhetorical choice provokes thought and challenges preexisting viewership assumptions. The shirts were also first made in a simple black and white color scheme, which speaks to the simplicity of the message being sent. There are no designs to draw attention away from the words on the shirt. This could be speaking to the fact that the world needs to be upfront and steadfast when confronting issues like sexism, homophobia, and racism, and that those problems should not be romanticized in the media.

Another example of innovative media campaigns is the “So Win.” Nike campaign, beginning in early 2025. Similar to the EWWS slogan, the simple “You Can’t Win. So Win.” message is not complex at all. The wording is straightforward, easy to understand by the general public, and is often displayed in simple white letters against a black screen. Also, it is important to note that the statement itself is paradoxical, which serves as a direct comparison to the current state of women’s sports media. According to Andrea Paloian of NYU, the “Female Athlete Paradox” “describes the internal conflict faced by women athletes who are expected to both excel in their sport (which often involves strength, power, and athleticism, traits traditionally associated with men) and conform to societal expectations of femininity.” The slogan conveys this implicitly, taking a dig at the doubters of female athletes. The “You Can’t Win.” section acts as a summation of the certain things said about female athletes and their abilities. If this phrase was left alone, it would serve simply as a motivational statement. Something that could be used to convince women, young and old, to beat the gender stereotypes and disprove societal norms. Instead, the slogan answers the question by saying “So Win.” It states that as though it is obvious, something that should already be assumed. The campaign implies that the standard for female athletes should be set higher, that the bar should not be set anything below what doubters think women can’t do. This sort of “underdog” trope is used often in modern women’s sports media as a way of encouraging young women to step out of their comfort zones and take on challenges that society thinks they are unable to face.

The commercials for the “So Win” campaign mostly involved clips of different famous female athletes put together, while being narrated by grammy-winner Doechii. Those advertisements demonstrate unity between women and encapsulate the potential of women’s sports by using prominent figures in the sports and music industries. But Nike also made a commercial starring only one athlete: Paige Bueckers. Bueckers narrates and stars in the entire 14 second video, confronting the constant scrutiny over her off-court life, and daring those who question her methods to realize her dominance in the game. She narrates, “People seem to get upset that I’m everywhere.”, while the video cuts to pictures of her at various different events in the off-season. This directly addresses the claims made about Bueckers when she attended awards shows, fashion week, and other high-profile events. People seemed to think that she was not spending enough time in the gym perfecting her craft, and were expecting her senior season to reflect that. Instead, in a calm and collected manner, Bueckers opposes those views when she states, “That’s funny. I seem to upset them here too.” By saying this, she implies that the doubters were incorrect in their assumptions that her game was going to show the consequences of her off-season “world tour”. She also takes on a confrontational tone, emphasizing her displeasure with the narratives. Bueckers ended up having one of the best seasons in women’s college basketball history, winning the national championship and getting drafted No. 1 in the 2025 WNBA draft (Dallas Wings). Even though some media tried to skew the narrative and write her story for her, she tuned it out and played to her potential, serving as an inspiration for young women and athletes everywhere.

Conclusion

The portrayals of women’s basketball have not always been positive or uplifting, and have definitely not always been consistent. From the scrutinization of the game’s old legends to the more accepting, yet cautionary portrayals of players today, the game has seen its ups and downs. In a world where societal norms are constantly changing, the media has been forced to to the new ways people are looking at things. During a time of minimal cultural awareness about LGBTQ players and severe sexism towards women, the ‘Old Era’ media coverage reflected that. Narratives were pushed that were very far from the truth, and the hate and underappreciation of female athletes was at an all time high. After the introduction of platforms such as Facebook and Instagram, the widespread cultural awareness for the unfair judgements placed on those players started to seep into the media. Headlines changed from things like “Brittney Griner’s deep voice in viral video shocks fans, sparks new wave of gender rumors” to more accepting narratives such as “Brittney Griner’s story always transcended sport. She’s a real American trailblazer”. In a society where hate spreads like wildfire, media networks have become more aware of the messages they are sending. Players have now been granted their rightful freedom to write their own stories and choose the parts of their identities they wish to share. Frontrunners in the sport, like Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers, have taken advantage of this freedom and interacted heavily with their fan bases on social media platforms. They’ve drawn attention to their skills and playing styles by posting about their personalities, highlights, and service off the court. The effects are clear: women’s basketball grows when players, like Clark and Bueckers, work hand-in-hand with social media to write their own stories.

As the cultural landscape of the world rapidly develops and society becomes more accepting of diverse personal identities, the media must adapt just as quickly. Narratives are built through headlines and front-page news, meaning that networks must exercise caution and be open-minded when representing figures as historically scrutinized as female athletes.

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thanks so much for reading, pls lmk your thoughts!! :))

#ava’s anons #uconn wbb #uconn women's basketball #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #ncaa women’s basketball #caitlin clark #ncaa tournament #wnba #diana taurasi

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Be So Hard Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: As I'm sure you are used to by now, this chapter carries all the feels. Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older Steddie (Early 30s), Dom Coach Steve Harrington/ Dom Professor Eddie Munson/ Sub (Early 20s) Plus Size Fem Y/N

SMUT, a bit softer this time, intimacy between steddie as well as with the reader

ANGST, Things from the show are mentioned including what happened with Eddie and the earthquake, trauma is expanded upon from things they experienced including both men having nightmares, mentions of the lose of a parent and grief regarding that (reader lost her father who was a first responder).

Reader finally gets to deal with some of the chaos with Martin with and his dad where she talks to the dean about what happened within chapter one. Of course his dad is a dick.

I think that's everything.

Last Chapter here

Word Count: 6532

Eddie bolts up right as he wakes up from another nightmare.

Since you started spending the night, he noticed he had been having them more frequently. He assumed it was due to the stress of everything that had happened with you and starting this new dynamic which is why he bypassed telling Steve he had been having them even though he promised after the last time he would.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced your way, softly smiling at your sleeping frame as his boyfriend cuddled you to his chest.

After moving the covers, he scooted to the bathroom gripping his side where his old scar ached as he prepared for the long day ahead.

***

It had been a couple of weeks since you and the guys agreed to take things one step at a time. You talked with Theo, telling him you didn’t feel like you were ready for a relationship at the moment and to your surprise he more than understood.

“I get it. If you ever change your mind though, I’m here.”

Martin had returned to his classes, his presence freezing you entirely when you saw him sitting at a desk across the room. Eddie had beckoned you over with his finger, guiding you into his office.

“Are you going to be alright? He’s been instructed by his ‘lawyer’ to not talk to you.”

“Lawyer?”

“His dad.”, he sighs as he rolls his eyes. “They’re contesting Steve kicking him off the team but I’m not sure why they waited so long. I offered an alternative course he could take or a different time he can take my class but he refused.”

“It’s ok. I’ll be ok.”

His palms cup your cheeks as his thumbs run along your face.

“Ok. I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re safe in my classroom, sweetheart.”

Smiling, you reach up to kiss his lips.

“I know.”

You loved spending time with them on and off campus. Steve ran with you sometimes on the track after your lunch and Eddie would give you books from his office he thought you would enjoy so you could talk about them as soon as you finished.

They couldn’t take you on dates but they did what they could, making you dinner, renting movies, and sometimes just hanging out on their living room floor talking. You absolutely enjoyed having conversations with them. Eddie seemed to be an adorable nerd regaling you with tales of his band days and how much he missed playing. Steve was a phenomenal listener asking questions and making sure you felt heard. You always returned the favor when it came to him and sports. You didn’t know much on the topic but you adored seeing the man’s eyes light up when he talked about his teams over the years and his hopes for the future.

Your evenings in their bed were euphoric to say the least. They were rough in the best possible way but even better they knew when to be aggressive and when to be soft. Sometimes they were a good mix of both making you cum repeatedly till you were practically convulsing on their mattress.

“Come on, honey. Give us one more. You can do it, baby. Just focus that fuzzy little brain and let go.”

“I-I-I can’t, Mr. Harrington, please.”

“It didn’t sound like to me he was asking, little girl. Now keep those legs open and give us what we want. If you close them one more time, Steve isn’t going to give you what YOU want.”

“What do you want, Y/N?”, the man cooed above you as his nose grazed yours. “Tell us.”

“I—fuck—I need you to fill me up…like Mr. Munson did. Please!”

Steve thrust into you harder, hitting your overly sensitive and abused g-spot till you were screaming his name.

“There she is! Atta girl. Our good little toy…fuck, baby, your pussy’s still clinging to me. I’m going to give her what she wants.”

His grunts filled your ear as he warmed your insides with both men kissing your neck as you came down from your high.

Afterwards, they would hold you to them whispering praises and how beautiful you were till you fell asleep. Things had been going incredibly well for you but little did you know what was going on behind the scenes.

One morning at 3am, you woke up alone but noticed their bathroom door open a crack with the light shining brightly through. Eddie was leaning against the counter on the floor with his knees to his chin as he appeared to be rocking back and forth. You vaguely made out Steve’s palms around his boyfriend’s arms as he whispered comforts that didn’t make any sense.

“It’s ok, honey. You’re ok. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. Vecna’s gone and those things can’t get to you. All the gates are closed.”

Eddie’s whimpers took a while to hit your ears but when you finally heard it, it killed you. While his partner tried to comfort him, your professor was repeatedly saying the same sentence under his breath.

“I don’t wanna die.”

####################

“Mr. Harrington, your job is to make sure these kids have the best chance at success!”

“I understand that Dean Gillman but that doesn’t require me to coddle them especially when they do something as terrible as what Martin Click did!”

You listen outside the dean’s office as you wait to be called in having received a letter to attend a meeting “regarding the matter of dismissal of Mr. Click.” As soon as you entered the waiting area, Steve’s agitated tone hit you. Your heart broke for him knowing he was just doing what he thought was right.

“ALLEDGEDLY did.”, said a man you didn’t recognize. “My son isn’t like that freak you spend all your time with.”

“Son of a bitch—”

“That is enough!”, the dean yelled before his voice followed through the reception intercom. “Is Miss Y/L/N here yet?”

When the secretary confirms, she flashes you a comforting smile and gestures towards the office. Right as you walk in, all the masculine energy hits you at once. Steve is fuming but he gently tries to grin your way so you know everything is alright. The dean’s frustrated eyes don’t mask the heavy worry behind them, for you or the star quarterback you weren’t sure. The other man you assumed to be Martin’s father didn’t even turn your way as you took a seat between them.

“Miss Y/L/N, we called you here because as you’re aware Martin Click was cut from the football team by Coach Harrington here. We have heard all sides of the story as to why but we would like to hear yours.”

“Yes, sir. Um, I was at the diner downtown studying for one of my classes and as I got up to leave Martin said something rude—”

“What did he say?”

“Um… he mentioned my weight—”

“But what exactly did he say?”, Martin’s dad asked sternly cutting you off again.

“If you stop interrupting her and let her finish maybe you’ll find out.”, Steve defended.

“He called me his favorite piggy. That’s your sons nickname for me since freshman year.”, you growl his way before focusing back on the dean. “I just wanted to leave and go back to my dorm. He followed me out the front door and said I shouldn’t disrespect him in front of his friends—”

“Did you?”

“Does that matter?!”, you yell, fed up with his attitude. “And no for your information. I ignored his rude comment and walked to my car where he pulled my backpack, choked me, and tore my shirt!”

“That’s when Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson stepped in?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Harrington threatened to suspend him but Martin was rude and didn’t like that so…”

“This doesn’t sound like my son.”

“I’ve witnessed him harassing her before. Usually, I just reprimand him but this time he went too far.”

“Look, I don’t want to take this to court but I will if I have to. My son deserves to be on this team.”

“Why because his daddy was a quarterback 15 years ago?”

“Said Mr. King Steve Harrington here whose parents have their hands in everything in Hawkins. Do you really think after everything you got this job because you’re a good coach?!”

“Jared…”, the dean warned.

“Hell, even this little girl. Everyone is going to believe any claims she makes because her father was a hero and my son gets thrown under the bus!”

You rise angerly to your feet but as you step forward, Steve hastily takes hold of your arm and holds you back.

“Don’t you dare talk about my dad!”

“That is enough! I will personally see to this investigation and notify everyone on the outcome. Mr. Click is to still stay away from Y/N and at this time is still cut from the team.”

Martin’s dad storms out and you thank the dean as you follow suit.

Steve’s sneakers squeak as he trails behind you and you don’t need to be told where you need to go as you turn into Eddie’s classroom. At the sound of the door opening, your professor quickly stood from the desk he was sitting at doing some busy work.

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Hey, look at me. Are you ok?”, the coach asks as you began to pace.

“I’m ok. I just…hated that fucking asshole talking about my father.”

Eddie’s gaze shifts towards his boyfriend in confusion who tries to explain as best he can.

“Dean Gillman is going to finish their investigation on what happened. Jared seems to believe his son is innocent but everyone will take Y/N’s side because her father was a hero.”

“I didn’t know that, sweetheart.”

“I-It’s ok. Most people don’t anymore and I’m not surprised with whatever you both were dealing with at the time that gave you those scars.” You force a smile as you dry the tears that started to fall. “My dad was a first responder. He was out in the field when the earthquake hit… They told my mother and I that he saved over 30 people before one of the buildings he was in…”

Eddie power walked towards you and pulled you into his arms as you cried, not caring if someone walked by and saw. Steve’s head hung as his eyes closed, remembering the chaos they came back to. He didn’t have time to focus on anything else except Eddie and Max when they found them.

Afterwards, he and Robin did what they could to volunteer and help but he was ashamed to say he never heard the story of your dad. What killed him even more was that maybe your father would still be alive if he and the gang had gotten to Vecna sooner. He always carried that when it came to Eddie. Every time he kissed his scars or held him after a nightmare, Steve blamed himself. If he had been more careful, if he had fought harder with the vines before being pinned, if he had been better…

***

Eddie stood still as the bats began swarming around him.

Suddenly, one screeched as it dived towards him and he blocked it expertly with his shield.

“COME ON!”, he shouted at the sky as he continued to fight.

A scream caught his attention causing him to turn that way and squint through the horde surrounding him. You were being attacked as well but the creatures already had you pinned to the floor.

“Y/N?! I’m coming, sweetheart!”

He ran forward but was blocked by a bat that hit him in the chest pushing him backwards. As he continued to try, he was repeatedly stopped as he growled in frustration.

“NO! Take me, you little fuckers! I deserve it! Leave her alone!”

“Eddie! Steve! Please, help me!”

A tail wrapped around his neck yanking him to the ground as a couple of others did the same with his wrists and ankles.

“Y/N!”

His head swiveled in your direction as your own tilted and your body stopped moving.

You were gone.

“NO!”

Eddie’s shriek jolted Steve awake as he promptly sat up and attempted to calm his boyfriend.

“Eddie! Eddie! You’re ok! Everything’s ok, baby!”

“Y/N…Y/N…we need to…where is she…”

“She’s in her dorm tonight, remember? She said she had to study for a test.”

“We need to make sure she’s ok. Vecna’s going to hurt her. Come on.”

“Honey, honey, honey. Vecna’s dead, it’s 2am, and I’m sure she’s safe in her bed.”

“I have to go check, Steve.”, he announced as he got out of bed and headed for the closet to find a shirt.

“Ok, wait. I’ll call her so you can talk to her.”

“NO! You’re not listening! We need to make sure she’s ok!”

***

At 2:15 you were knocking on their door with an exhausted Steve swinging it open.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get him to call you so he could hear your voice but...”

As soon as you stepped into their house Eddie was on you, his shaking hands cupping your face.

“Are you alright?!”

“Yeah, baby. I’m ok. Everything is ok.”, you coo in a soft tone as you bring your lips to his.

“I saw you, Y/N.” His voice cracked as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I saw you in that place and the bats had you pinned. I couldn’t get to you. I tried…I tried to save you…”

“What place, Eddie? I don’t understand.”

Dropping to his knees, he pressed his face into your stomach as he sobbed mumbling something you couldn’t understand. As you petted his head trying to comfort him, you glanced towards Steve who was now sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees, his jaw tight as he glared at the wall trying to keep his emotions in check.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m right here. No one is going to hurt me or you two. You’re safe, Eddie. Steve, honey, can you get me a pillow?”

Nodding, he disappeared before returning and handing you what you ask for. You thank him, tossing it to the floor, and guiding the metalhead gently down with you as you hold his head to your chest. Another pillow drops beside you and you are suddenly covered with a blanket as Steve descends to lay behind his boyfriend.

After a while, Eddie became silent and you both realized he had finally fallen asleep.

“Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course.”, you whisper as you reach over to caress Steve’s face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, honey. Thank you.”

“You can tell me the truth.”

The man sighs as he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“It’s been a while since he had nightmares that were this bad. He promised me he would tell me when they were getting worse again.” Your eyes scan his as you wait for him to continue. “We had an incident a few years ago where the nightmares were so bad he just refused to sleep. Scared the hell out of me.”

“What about you? Do you have nightmares?”

“Naw, not like his.”

“But you have them…”

Steve flashes you a smile as he shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal. My ordeal wasn’t as bad as his.”

“So? Steve, you still have scars. Literally. Just because they aren’t as bad as his doesn’t mean what you went through didn’t hurt.” The coach heavily sighed as he scooted closer to Eddie and wrapped his arm around his waist. “I used to think the same way…after my father died. Everyone in town lost so much, their homes, livelihoods, children and other family members. I thought I had no right to grieve as long as I did…do… but then I realized that it was ok. There’s no timetable or measurement on grief or pain. It’s all valid.”

Leaning over his partner, Steve placed a tender kiss on your lips.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?”, he whispers making you smile as he lays back down and you both fall asleep.

################

Eddie stirred at the smell of something cooking, his eyes slowly opening as he realizes you’re no longer next to him. Rising to his feet, he pried Steve’s arm from his hip and went on the hunt for you, finding you in their kitchen.

“Hey. How’d you sleep?”, you ask as his chocolate eyes take you in.

Last night he was too in his own head to get a good look at you so he didn’t notice you came over in your pajamas and in that moment he realized he had never seen you in your own sleepwear. Usually, when you came over you were dressed as you were that day and fell asleep naked or in one of their shirts.

Right now, you seemed extremely comfortable in your red flannel pants and two sizes too big hoodie with the campus insignia etched on the front. Your hair was up in a messy bun and your face didn’t have any of the makeup you normally wore.

You were perfect.

Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle and you smiled as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

As you lean into his embrace, you rest your arms over his.

“You didn’t scare me. I was more worried than anything…about both of you.” Turning off the stove, you turned around to face him, cupping his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

You sigh as he kisses your forehead before letting you go and taking a seat at their table. Eddie doesn’t move or say anything as he listens to you shuffle around behind him. After placing a plate in front of him with a cup of coffee, you head to where Steve was still sleeping and he watches as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair.

“Steve, baby. I made some food and coffee. Are you hungry?”

The man grunts out a cute uh-huh but as he reaches forward and finds no one his eyes widen as they fill with panic.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. Eddie’s at the table already. He’s alright.”, you murmur as he nods.

After taking a seat beside his boyfriend, he reaches for his hand and exhales heavily when the man squeezes it lightly and pulls away to grab his fork. Once you and Steve have your own plates, everyone silently nibbles on their food as an awkward silence hangs in the hair.

You knew they were hiding things from you but you promised not to ask or push so you did what you could to be there ignoring your own worry as they silently struggled. Eddie seemed to be doing the same, silently struggling in his own head which bothered Steve out of his own worry and fear for the man he loved. But the coach held in things of his own saying he could handle it but as you watched him move food around his plate as his head hung, it was clear he couldn’t anymore.

“I’m afraid of water.”, you blurt causing both their eyes to shoot your way as you smile softly. “Not like water, water… I can swim in a pool and stuff but as long as my feet can touch the bottom. When I was little my dad took me to see Jaws and didn’t tell my mom. His thinking was ‘It’s PG so it can’t be that terrifying.’ I was apparently doing ok until the scene where the boy gets eaten. It’s funny even now I think of the stupid fins in the air and I just…” As you jokingly shudder, a smile spreads across their faces.

“After that moment, if I can’t see what’s below me…? No, thank you.”

“I didn’t know who Ozzy Osbourne was till I met Eddie.”, Steve says nonchalantly as he pretends to play with his food, grinning widely when you both laugh.

“Are you serious? Who doesn’t know him? I mean…if you don’t know his music at least you know him as the guy who bit a bat’s head off on stage!”

“Nope. No clue.”

“He’s a bit repressed, babe.”, Eddie cuts in. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him up to speed.”

“Iron Man is a good song. I know metalhead here can play the guitar for it.”

The long-haired boy flashes his partner a toothy grin as he leans back in his chair.

“Um, I don’t know, I like D & D. I haven’t played in a while but…”

“I knew that about you. It’s still a very prominent club at Hawkins high just so you know.”, you giggle.

“Really? Were you a member?”

“No, God no. I have no idea how to do any of that.”

“Maybe…Maybe I can teach you.”, Eddie replies almost shyly making you blush.

“I’d like that.”

His eyes lock with yours for a moment before abruptly leaning over the table kiss your lips. They had never met anyone like you let alone anyone who was as kind and adorable as you were being outside of their original friend group. Eddie knew he would never get you to understand how much they appreciated that but he would do whatever he could to protect you and make sure you were happy because you deserved it.

“Also Steve has never seen the movie version of your play.”

“Fucking tattletale.”, Steve joked as your wide, amused eyes met his.

“Well, I know what we’re doing today.”

###############

You spent the entire day with them making them laugh and forgetting their worries. Eddie ordered a pizza from a restaurant you had never been to and Steve quickly ran out to rent Rocky Horror so you three could watch it.

“So, you’re going to wear that teddy and lace, right, babe?”

“If that’s what you want, Steve Harrington.”, Eddie cooed playfully towards him. “Good luck finding that anywhere within Hawkins. I’m not even sure how Lilah is doing that.”

“She went on a road trip out of state and brought back some things.”, you grin. “Some of what she brought back doesn’t quite fit me so we’re trying to tailor them but I may need to go buy my own.”

“Can we help?”, the metalhead asks seductively as he crawls to where you were sitting on their floor.

“Oh, of course.”

“If we go out of state we can take you on a date.” Both your gazes shift to the pretty boy who slides off the couch to lean against it beside you as Eddie sits up and crossed his legs. “I feel bad that we haven’t been able to do that.”

“It’s ok—”

“No, it’s not. We like you…a lot. We don’t want you to feel used.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you nudge your head against Steve like a cat saying hello.

“I like when you use me though.”

“Ah ah. Focus, honey.”, he chuckles as he pats your knee.

“If we leave Hawkins you two can be intimate. You’ll be able to hold hands and stuff.”

“Oh yeah because everyone in the world is so accepting.”, Eddie smirks. “I’d still hold your hand and sloppily kiss you in public here if you wanted me to.”

Steve smiles tenderly as he caresses his cheek.

“You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to rile up the down again and have them fucking trying to kill you.”

“Did that happen?”, you ask genuinely surprised.

“I mean…I was on the run.”

“And? They shouldn’t be hurting you or trying to kill you. No matter what you’re being accused of.” You pause, deciding on if you should ask what you’re thinking. “Is that why you have nightmares? Is that why you say you don’t want to die?”

Both sets of eyes shifted your way as their eyebrows furrowed together.

“I heard you one night in the bathroom. Steve was trying to calm you down and you kept saying you didn’t want to die.”

Eddie fidgets with his fingers as he stares down at the carpet.

“In my dreams, everything’s the same. I’m not too far from my trailer and the bats are swarming around me. I fight…I die. Last night I heard you screaming for us and I saw them pinning you to the ground…” Steve’s eyes close as he listens to the man he loves speak. “I couldn’t get to you. Those fuckers kept pushing me back every time I tried to run forward. Then you were gone…”

“It’s ok, Eddie, baby. I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

“I sometimes dream about those bats. Thankfully Eddie and our friends got to me in time before… Most of my dreams are actually about us finding him and Max. If not that then those fucking Russian soldiers who beat the shit out of me.”

“W-What? Steve…I don’t…”

You listen with wide eyes as they talked, none of their words making any sense. You vaguely remembered Will Byers disappearing and suddenly being found, the mall fire, and of course everything with Eddie but the blanks they filled in just left you confused.

“And that’s not even everything…but what I did just tell you could get us into serious trouble…”, Steve sighed as he dared to look your way. “When we got back everything in Hawkins was a mess but I had to get him to a hospital and be there for my friends. I didn’t even know about your father… I’m so sorry, Y/N. We…we did everything we could but…we were still too late.”

Silently, you rose to your feet and numbly headed for their front door.

“Y/N, wait—”

As Eddie’s hand grabbed your arm, you turned your body and smacked his cheek.

“How dare you. Do-Do you two just need attention or did you think this was funny?!”

“Do you see us laughing?”, Steve exhales as he stands as well. “We don’t expect you to believe us but like we said we like you.”

“And we trust you.”

Shaking your head in disgust, you leave their home as you loudly slam the door shut.

#############

This time Steve was the one to wake up screaming with Eddie there to comfort him as he hadn’t been able to sleep.

“It’s ok, babe. Everything’s ok.”

“Russians…Y/N was screaming…I couldn’t—”

“Get to her? Yeah.”

“Fuck.”, the man sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What…What time is it?”

“Um, a little after 7am. Why?”

“The library is open. Can we…?”

After throwing on some clothes, Eddie drove them downtown to the library with his boyfriend in tow who silently stared out the window the whole way. No one seemed to be there which they appreciated, not wanting to be around anyone as they struggled with the computer in front of them.

“I don’t know how this fucking thing…”

“I got it, sweetheart. Let me see what I can find.” Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder not caring in that moment if anyone saw. He was so grateful he was there and knew what he needed without having to say a word. “There he is. It looks like the mayor’s office did a whole tribute for people that were lost that day.”

Both men stared at the image of your dad in his firefighter uniform as the metalhead softly read the caption underneath.

“Fredrick Y/L/N, firefighter first responder, died March 27, 1986, after saving thirty people that were stranded in a nearby housing facility after the earthquake shook Hawkins. The building he was in was unstable but managed to clear the structure before it came down. The residents tried to save him but were unable.”

“Jesus.”, Steve exhaled as Eddie continued to scroll.

“Steven, look. There she is.”

As he points to screen, they both take in your sad little face as you stand beside your mom who was accepting your dad’s metal of heroism from the new mayor.

“I didn’t want to be there.” Even though you’re whispering, both men are startled by the sound of your voice as you step closer. Your eyes were just as hollow as theirs, as if you to hadn’t gotten much if any sleep. “My mom said I had to but I just wanted to stay in bed. The mayor and people in town kept talking to us and thanking us. I kept thinking ‘What for? My dad was the one who did anything.’ I guess it just made people feel better.”

Pulling up a chair, you sit behind them, and dig through your backpack before producing a few photocopied articles you had found the evening prior before the librarian kicked you out to close. One had the wanted photo of Eddie that had been placed around town as well as the defaced pictures of his Missing Person posters. Another someone must have snuck in to take had the metalhead in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail, and hooked up to so many machines.

One article was about the fire at the mall with a photo of the building. Within the EMS van in the background was a younger Steve with a bloody face and a blanket wrapped around his arms. The other papers in your hand, you flipped through quickly displaying stories of corruption in Hawkins, the shutdown of the lab, and people mysteriously disappearing.

Taking a hold of everything, Steve slid them back into your backpack and gestured for you to follow them out the front door. Silently, Eddie opened the back door to his van and reached for your hand to help you in before jumping in behind you. The other man took his keys, starting the car, and drove out of the parking lot.

***

When you woke up, you were still in the back of their van but you had fallen asleep in Eddie’s arms utilizing one as a pillow as his steady breathing warmed the back of your neck. The doors were open as Steve sat on the edge staring out into a field you didn’t recognize.

Sliding out of the metalhead’s embrace, you crawled to the end and placed yourself beside the other boy.

“Where are we?”

“Trailer Park.”, he answered without looking your way. “After the earthquake, they moved everyone way from the area because it was so close to one of the cracks. Since it cut through their trailer, they left it here.” He gestured in front of him towards the structure that was practically cut in half.

Words were graffitied along the side that read “Freak” and “Murderer” and the windows that you could see were smashed open.

“This is where Chrissy died.”, Eddie whispered as he crawled over to sit next to you. “I tried to save her but…”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Over a month. They were pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. Stevie here stayed with me and checked on me every day or so I was told.”, he smiled. “When I woke up, I was terrified but he was there.”

“When Hopper came back, he helped clear his name but obviously this town has a mind of their own.”, Steve added.

“Why do you stay?”

“We’re pretty sure Vecna is gone and never coming back…that all the evil he brought with him has disappeared but…Eddie and I decided a long time ago that we would stay and protect people if we were wrong.”

“The same people that called him a murderer? That demean you and hurt you both?”

“It’s more than that, Y/N. There are A LOT of good people here to…people like you.”

Your palm reached out to caress Eddie’s face as he smiled, placing his hand over yours.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“It’s alright.”, he shrugs. “I would have been shocked if you immediately believed us, honestly.”

The hand you had on his cheek trailed down the man’s chest and lingered at the hem of his shirt. Pausing for only a moment, he lifted it over his head and allowed you get a good look with new eyes.

“Now I see why you like to take control.”, you smirked making him smile as well. “Eddie, baby, I’m so sor—”

His palms grabbing your cheeks and bringing your lips to his cut you off as he passionately kissed you, guiding you onto your back as he grinds his lower half against yours.

In hurried, needy motions, he yanked down your pants and panties, tossing them to the side before pressing his face into your cunt. As his lips and tongue devoured you, Steve fell by your side, lifting off your shirt, and kissing you at a much delicate pace than his partner as his palm roamed your breast.

Both their actions felt completely different than how they normally were with you so you decided to do something different as well as your hand tangled into Eddie’s messy hair.

“Oh my God, Eddie. That f-feels so good.”

Pushing up on your elbows, you watched as Steve’s mouth trailed down your stomach before the metalhead tilted upward so he could kiss his boyfriend’s lips. Besides that one time, they were rarely intimate in front of you when you three played but seeing them now after hearing their story had you clenching around Eddie’s fingers as he slid them into your pussy.

The long-haired man continued kissing any part of him he could reach as the pretty boy began sucking at your clit while your hand petted his head.

“Fuck, Steve, just like that.”

When Eddie’s tongue replaced his digits, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Both their organs flicking against you was an overwhelming sensation you had never experienced before. Your body trembled and shook as you came, your hands clinging to any piece of them you could as you floated back down to earth.

Quickly with fumbling fingers, Eddie unbuckled his belt and pushed down his jeans enough to free his cock before guiding it into your dripping core. He seemed lost in the feeling of you as he almost aggressively thrust his hips, pounding his length deep inside you.

“E-Eddie, please. Slow…slow down.”

All of a sudden, his head shot up as his eyes found yours.

“I-I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No, no, baby. I just…need you to go…a little slower…at first. I’m sorry.”, you whimper.

Flashing you a gentle smile, he brings his lips to yours as he does what you ask.

“I’M sorry, sweetheart. Whenever we…we talk about this stuff…we both tend to get…”

“It’s ok. I understand. I just… both your cocks are so big.”

The breathy laugh/whine that leaves Eddie has you softly giggling as well.

“How is that both sexy and adorable coming out of your mouth?”, he beams. “Ok, pretty girl. I’ll go slow.” As he continues to wait, you glance over his shoulder watching as Steve grips the man’s hips and scrunches his nose in pleasure as he slides into his entrance. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie falls flat against you, his arms resting on either side of you head as he groans into your ear and starts gradually thrusting. A palm caresses your cheek and you shift your gaze to the other boy as you kiss the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck, you both feel so good. Cum, baby. I need to feel it. I need to feel you.”

Nodding, you gave him the ok to pick up his pace and he obliged, pounding his hips into your own while he sucked and kissed the sweet spot on your neck. Chanting his name, you shudder as you came. Eddie slowed his rhythm as he fucked you through it, your pants warming his mouth as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Good girl.”

With heavy eyes, you watched and whined when the metalhead pulled out, smirking slightly when they switched places.

Steve’s tongue mingled with yours as he kissed your lips, maneuvering himself between your legs, and moaning as he effortlessly entered your heat. Leaning his head on yours, he loudly mewls as his boyfriend guides his cock into him and slowly pumps his hips.

“Thank you.”, Steve whimpers under his breath as he rolls his waist between you both.

“F-For what, baby. Tell me.”

“Mmm—f-for believing us. For—fuck—carrying another one of our secrets. We don’t deserve you.” He whispers out his last sentence quickly as he thrusts himself into you a bit faster and harder.

“Yes, you do Steve. After everything you both went through—shit—make me cum. Please.

Clinging to your body, he pressed his nose into your cheek as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly while Eddie hit his when he bounced back against him. Your back arched as the coil snapped and Steve came with you, his humid breath hitting your skin as he filled you up with his release. Ringed fingers gripped his shoulders as the metalhead slammed his hips roughly into his boyfriend before falling onto his back as he pumped his spend into him.

Eddie falls beside you as Steve climbs between the seats in search of something to clean you with.

“Edward Munson.”

“Hmmm Steven Harrington.”

“Why are there no napkins or tissues in your van?”

“You keep blaming me for these things when again, babe, I wasn’t prepared to be fucking in my van.”

“Honey, how many times have we fooled around in here?”

You giggle at there banter as you reach for your backpack and dig into one of the pockets to produce a tissue.

“As a girl, I feel I always have to be prepared.” After he cleans you, you sit up and glance out into the field where the cut in half trailer rests. “Where does your family live now?”

“Um, they gave my uncle a small little home a few miles down the way. When I got out of the hospital, I stayed with him till Steve and I got our place.”

“And your parents?”

“Another time, baby. Let’s get back home and get some rest.”

Eddie smiles as he kisses your forehead and climbs into the driver’s seat while Steve sits on the passenger’s side but turns his body to face you both.

“I promise that secret is safe with me. No matter what happens.”

Both men’s eyes meet before the metalhead starts the car and begins to drive. You didn’t clarify but they knew what you meant. If anyone found out about you three or something happened where you couldn’t be together you would remain silent on everything they had told you. That particular fear was always in the back of their minds to.

After putting on your shirt and panties, you crawled into the gap between their seats and leaned your head against Eddie’s thigh as you reached out to hold Steve’s hand. Tenderly he kissed the back of it, while the metalhead brought his own palm down to play with your hair.

###############

@joannamuns9n @dckweed @corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

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stanley-the-sniper · 8 days ago

Text

Making this 2 in a row...

An apology for any misspelled words or bad grammar English is not my native language. I am a fervent follower of Stanxeno, my blog is supposed to be Stan interacting with Xeno and others, you know, so "toma ya" i´ll add poly

No warnings, maybe just bad wording¿¿¿¿¿¿, reader is gn no prof read¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿

Rivals-to friends (only you think this)-to lovers

I see Stanley as a quite guy, like for the sake of this one, when you two meet, where in the age of dudes and lads and youngsters. This will make sense foward.

So I'm gonna change a little this, I'm sorry for anon tho specially if you got someting else in mind, more than enemies to lovers... You two were rivals to lovers.

But all people may say that you were actually enemies. I guess I can´t decide.

At the beginning you two were like just two kids that never get along, even in elementary school you succeded in getting the teacher to force you into grabing your hands in the middle of the yard all the reces.

So that day changed the dynamic a little.

After that unbeliveable and catastrophic event you two made, like and mutual and silent agreement, that the epic and sensless battle will continue in a less flamboyant way.

Xeno was just a mere spectactor, honestly for him was so fun to watch you too figth constantly, only over a second place, almost in everything, academic related. "Very unelegant of you Stan, figthing for the fisrt place of the losers in the honor roll*"

*Here in México we name "cuadro de honor" the glass were the highest scores of the alumni were presented, i dunno how you guys call that.

"Yeah, but it´s woth it" a small smile forms in his pretty face.

An indeed is so worth it, in school getting high grades on P.E. is easy, but during class, and football and basketball games, you hated as much as he simply left you biting the dust, unlike him, you do need to get along with the team to overcome him, what's more, even though they weren't your friends, there wasa certain group of kids that hated Stanley.

"That girly will pay" you heard some random kid say, obviously jealous that Stanley was the popular among all the girls.

But those mundane jealousy towards him were insignificant compared to your cause, none would undertand the meening all of this rivalry, neither you two, they only have a unilateral and unimportant competition.

Instead you, or yours was a war between the two.

Even so, you end up defeated in the bench, hiding from the sun of that afternoon. "A pointless contention to be honest" you hear Xeno whose was sitting in a higher step of the stands, his gorgeos onyx eyes watching you with obvious superiority.

Oh that sly smile of him, was a killer for you.

"Easy for you to say, your always first on the honor roll" you can feel your cheeks hot, you just hope so that the pevious run function as a pretext to go unnoticed.

Passing his thin leg on the other, knee against his elbow and wrist holding his chin, Xeno looks at you, his lips psrting a little wanting to say something, you without knowing that a projectile would end up hitting your head, thus interrupting the scene.

Angry, turn towards the direction of that ball, shoulders showing indefferent, and avoiding the look, Stanley says nothing, clearly being the guilty and with dozens of witnesses to prove the attack. Even so, the irrationality of a 10 -year -old child surpasses you, making a small fight with the other, the two ended again waiting for the director, as in the old days.

Xeno knows whats really happening bewteen you two... three.

But he will take his damn time to make you both realized, also for now he doesnt care at all in that matter.

Everything will come in time.

It is four or five years later when Stanley catches up whats the issue. Its a long day thinking for himself, that a double crush and conflict are posible, obvs Xeno was there, he didnt has to say to much to help Stan undestand the true feellings in all this.

"You'd have said something" he wines to his boyfriend

"Nah it wasn't a priority, also, it was fun to watch and flattering"

By this time, Stanley seemed to loss interest in your little quarrel, it was, sad, and kinda heartbreaking for you, just that you didn´t know why. Maybe you guys are growing up, and yeah you spent time with his real close friend Xeno.

( I have a short story for this but later i´ll share)

But something was different, and because of that you tried to make new conections, even get a sweaty hand, and secret kisses partner, it didnt go well, you were like dating a pet, you felt like dealing more with a responsibility or an act that truly be with someone.

Fortunately for you, you did not have to end that painful relationship, the person seemed more desperate to end up with you after insisting on their part to go together.

Weird, but it works so you don't think much about it.

After that, Stanley approaches you, he does not start a sentimental relationship, it is more, a strange friendship, after so many years of rivalry who would say it, end up being friends.

Of course that was not the intention, from here a slow burn begins between the three, both young and beatiful boys putting you into their relationship, without you knowing.

In your life it occurred to you to go out with two at the same time, so for you they were always the best friends forever and ever.

Nor never pass through your head try to go out with someone else, your relationship with Xeno and Stanley, it was already comfortable and pleasant enough.

Until both released the bomb, several times separately and together, which is when you connect the dots.

Woa, WOA!

Who expected it? because you didn't.

In relationship(even tho you didnt know it at some point in the beginnig)

Who would have imagined it, Stanley is really attentive when he proposes it, well, thinking about it, he was always attentive, or how was he able to be one step ahead in some of your misadeventures.

He really knows what you'll need and can even prevent other issues you might come, thats an habit of him, spending most of his time with Xeno, he learned to prevent and be prepare. But he just do that for you, he likes his malewife to take care of him.

By long periods of time, you two were alone, mostly 'cause someone, even in at a young age, were already busy, doing school exchanges or trips for specialized studies.

Stanley is always capable of making you feel better, it was something mutual, but you always felt that he helped you the most, not knowing that your mere presence in the absence of Xeno, made him strong enough to take care for both of you.

You and him are the physical ones, sandwiching Xeno when he has the time, so it´s very usual to found both of you always entangled in the sofa or the bed (more ahead in the relationship) before that, the hand in sholder, sholder bumps and other subtle contact was always there. As far as you let them go for your confort.

He will always take care of the cockroach or spider in the bathroom. And he enjoys it, being his hero, for both of you (more an assasin or executor for Xeno tho)

You are the sunshine, is not that you´re naive, is just that you´re good, not a golden heart, but good morals and all, you too got mad when Xeno´s proyect was dejected, CEOs and politicians you learn to dislike them. In school, you weren´t a leader, but always tried to bring the best for community, being the treasurer of the student council, gave you a lot of work, Stanley and Xeno, were always there, in the dejected proposals and always giving you good feedback.

You are spoiled, double spoiled when Xeno was free, that always felt so unfair to you, but you just didn´t know that you give them what they always forget to give eachother. Indulge in Xeno rants and attention to Stan.

==>

That one time when you were a buch of kiddos...

A science fair was comming, you had to make your brains blow up, to come up with something huge nd finally win over your long live rival, yeah second place is the high you can get, but you dont feel so bad about it, regarding to Xeno Houston Wingfield you got zero complaints. He deserved the world. But that aside, Stanley Snyder how can you beat that not so wimp cute ass of him?

Unless

"That´s treason!" Pretty angry eyes, finger pointing to your partner in crime. A triunphant smile ornate your face.

"You never asked me for help..." Xeno removing his childhood friend from him "...besides they came up with a cool idea I couldn't resist"

You won that battle, making a mini enviormental system capable of producing their own ozone and several atmosopheral layers was beyond to be expected from a childs fair where, there were mostly battery potatoes, solar system diagrams and exploding volcanos.

Oh but that victory was far from being one.

"That´s obviusly cheating, pairing up with Xeno, thought you got more honor on yourself" Oh he said it, you reluctantly answered that he was a bad loser, but deep down you felt the burning of his truth. That was not a true victory.

Because in the words of Xeno, his rivalry practically consisted of who made the best feathers display before him.

==>

I wanted to write more but i'm out of ideas and honeslty i suck at writting just hope you like it >u<

#dcst #dr. stone #xeno houston wingfield #stanley snyder #x reader #xeno x stanley #yyyyyyyyy #late late sooo late #cam talks!

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heart-freak · 3 months ago

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when i feel really evil this is usually like.the dynamics?(between wels,hels, xisuma, and evil xisuma).i have going on in those random angst posts. no it doesnt make much sense and also the specifics are changing all the time. hermitcraft if they hated each other 😭

ig this is more of a thought dump agh. dont take it too seriously. may be incomprehensible also. abuse tw :T and also its painfully ooc

Welsknight: 2nd most regular guy here. spends more times with hels than most would consider normal. loves xisuma very much but its not for nice reasons.well, some of it is, some of its not. feels, uhm, in debt? in a way, i suppose. a mix of feeling like he owes xisuma something that he will never be able to repay and also wishing he would die in some freak accident. to free him of his guilt, surely, not bc he has growing resentment. also a world class champion at isolation and being oblivious. he just wants to sleep in someone's arms probably. and maybhe like,cry, . luckily for him he has a clone that, will not hold him while he cries, but will let him blow off steam and whisper things resembling intrusive thoughts into his ear. and like. sure why not he believes it. finaly!!!!!someone understands him!! more isolation with my evil clone will fix my life and relationships.

Helsknight: unfortunately the most normal guy here. he is not directly involved in the weird shit everyone else has going on but his relationship with wels has him basically dragged into it. poor guy :T He's definetly not nice to Wels, not all the time, like you could say he also guilts Wels and brings the same kinds of feelings that Xisuma does to him. Hels also isnt that fond of Xisuma for multiple reasons but he also wishes he had a bit of what the hermits had...? Like I hate that guy but i want to belong somewhere. It's funny because he totally realizes that Wels is nowhere near as tense around himself than he is around Xisuma but he doesn't notice E.X. also acts the same way. he does care about E.X. but also treats him like a baby sometimes bc oh mayn ur not a real evil mastermind like me. u also have an amazing life,compared to me. hes so fucking stupid

Xisuma: nobody likes this guy :-( i dont even like this guy :-( obviously a piece of shit to wels and E.X. but mainly E.X. . some of the other hermits too but theyre not important rn. him and E.X. have had this going on for a LONG time and its bc of dumb backstory stuff no one cares about but basically its bc he was a (rightfully) angry and mistreated kid growign up around violence and oh my god! is that a little defenless younger brother! i mean punching bag! and so its just normal now and they both know its normal (to them) so why even BOTHER trying to escape. and it works. at least,xisuma think so. xisuma probably wouldnt say he outright hates E.X., also. like in the heat of the moment he'll go I HATE YOU GO KYS idk. some rage filled dialogue. but i think he also believes he's doing this as some kind of mercy or tough love thing. either way he's wrong.please stop.

Evil Xisuma: stupidly obvious scapegoat.sorry. im the real xisuma here. anyways E.X. is and has been getting abused by xisuma for years and he just wishes someone would notice or even take up the slightest issue or suspicous with xisuma. that will never happen bc he is literally evil xisuma.the bad one with no self-control, banished ,for the better of the server, to protect everyone, yes i'm doing this for good, for the better, for the safety of us all. because all the ppl in ur head like jeff aren't even real and you just need.help.and im helping you. so come back home and stop running away . because if you really want to leave so badly you will be gone,just like that! and we will all forget except for me bc im so nice and i dont want you to leave us.

#nates talks #nates mcyt rambles #hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight #xisuma #xisumavoid #evil x #evil xisuma #sorry hmmmm #bad post #abuse tw

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theamityelf · 1 year ago

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Have you ever done RoD class 78 AND class 77 together before I genuinely cannot remember? I know you have a story about RoD class 78 on AO3 but it's not both classes together. Anyways like your previous idea everyone except Makoto is in despair and they keep him around because he is simultaneously their hope amd despair. Despair because he has to watch his friends do things they would have never done, and hope because some of them are waiting for him to join them.

How would the RoD of class 77 view their situation and what would their dynamic be now that they're both fighting for Junko's affection?

This is really cool!!

The envy over class 78 perpetually having more of Junko's attention and favor than them would be such great despair for the 77th class.

Mondo's "every biker gang in Japan" and Fuyuhiko's, ya know, yakuza, are constantly fighting over turf, because now there's factions within the Ultimate Despair. This lawlessness benefits their side, of course. When it doesn't benefit them to be at odds, they're allies. But they all want to be the ones to earn Junko's approval, and her classmates know her better and she cares about them more. Officially, though, the 77th class has "double seniority", because they're upperclassmen and they were initiated as despair first.

Basically, by objective measures of rank and usefulness, the 77th class should be the favorites; they have a princess controlling kingdoms on Junko's behalf, for despair's sake! They worship her way more than her class does. But she simply doesn't like them as much, and that hurts.

Okay, now Makoto!

He is hanging on to his morals, but naturally his mental health is in shambles. Basically, it's the status quo of Despair's Throbbing Heart, for him; he is keeping layers of denial and dissociation between himself and the horrors and surfacing from that state when there's someone he can save or influence.

The arrangement he's in would be different, in this AU.

The 77th class like to make fun of the 78th class for the fact that their luckster is still on "that good guy BS". They even point to Nagito proudly, like, "Look at our luckster! He set a convenience store on fire yesterday. What's your guy been doing?"

Nagito loves this. His class has never been so supportive and affectionate toward him.

The 78th class's response to this is largely defensive. Like, "Stop bullying Makoto! He's just a late bloomer!" Meanwhile, they all do their best to get him into despair. (Hifumi is the most creative about it.) At first, he meets every attempt with yelling protestations and passionate insistence that they're not like this! He knows them, and they're not like this! After they've done it enough, he loses the energy for such displays, but that doesn't mean he's given up. Every time they do a horrible thing in front of him and he shuts down emotionally, they wait eagerly for him to start laughing or pawing curiously at the ashes or something to indicate he's enjoying it, but he just shuts down for a while and, when his mind considers it safe to resurface, changes the subject.

He still argues and protests what they're doing, but now that he's no longer shocked every time, he can ration his energy so that he's subtle when he needs to be subtle and insistent when he needs to be insistent.

Junko lowkey loves it. When she visits her friends, there will be at least one time where she beckons Makoto over to sit with her and just kind of guides his head to rest on her...chest. Strokes his hair with her long nails and calls him a freak of nature and tells him he disgusts her. Sayaka's cuddled up against his other side, sometimes, but sometimes Junko takes care to get him alone. Quietly, in an alternatingly sweet, cruel, and emotionless tone, she tries to wear him down by talking at length about the futility of his resistance and how much happier he and everyone will be if he just gives in to despair.

He's sometimes trembling with fury while she does this, and sometimes he's just staring into space. Either way, he's managing his energy. He can't fight what she's doing to others if he wastes energy defending himself. And she knows it.

He seems not to be listening, but he saves her words in his mind. Sometimes they're useful, to get his friends to spare people based on little loopholes or slants in what Junko said.

The 77th class repeatedly offers to borrow Makoto for a weekend, claiming they can get him to despair, where his own class has failed. The 78th class tries to refuse, but Junko tells them to let the senpais try. So, sometimes Makoto visits them.

They think he's adorable and weird.

He gravitates toward the ones who do the least horrible stuff in front of him (Ibuki doesn't seem to personally kill anyone.) and the ones who seem the most capable of uncomplicated affection (Akane treats him like a younger sibling, and there doesn't seem to be any edge of weird, fond cruelty to it.).

Nagito and Izuru are fascinated with him.

Both the hope and despair in Nagito are delighted by Makoto. Makoto causes Nagito's class to view him favorably, to take pride in him. But also, Makoto has shown himself to be the best of them, somehow. There is a light within him that cannot be extinguished. It's a precious gift that he simultaneously wants to see destroyed and protected. Literally, any direction that Makoto goes will make Nagito happy, either from the perverse glee of seeing someone so amazing finally falling to despair, or the wholesome glee of seeing him continue to soar above the filth that has claimed everyone else. Either way, he is transfixed. After they've spent more time together, he'll probably start to care about personally protecting the good in Makoto, but at first he's just watching the fireworks with his hands behind his back.

Izuru is likewise fascinated by the unexpected fortitude. Since Makoto is subject to more avenues of attack to his morale, in this AU, than he is in Despair's Throbbing Heart, he's less overtly friendly in this AU than in that fic. He's kind, but he's more careful about who he opens himself up to, meaning the side of himself that he shares with Izuru is less an immediate friendliness than a quiet kindness. Still, Izuru is intrigued by it, and a part of him he doesn't consciously recognize is starved for kindness.

Both Nagito and Izuru are pretty overt about these feelings.

Sometimes Makoto wakes up to see a shadowy figure standing over his bed. "Kamukura?" he guesses from the long hair.

"I was walking past your door, and I heard you having a nightmare. I was curious, so I came to watch."

"...Okay." Makoto rolls over and goes back to sleep.

When Junko has her weird cuddle sessions with Makoto, Nagito will post up to watch, like it is a critically-acclaimed one-act play.

Both of them are constantly commenting on Makoto's behavior out loud in front of him, like they're the Twitch chat of his life.

Occasionally, someone like Akane or Taka will ask Makoto if those guys are bothering him, but he always says no.

(They don't know enough about Izuru to know that there wouldn't be much they could do about it if he was.)

#danganronpa #junko enoshima #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #mondo owada #makoto naegi #nagito komaeda #izuru kamukura #naejunko #both classes despair au #komaegi #kamuegi #ibuki mioda #akane owari #kiyotaka ishimaru #sayaka maizono #hifumi yamada #naeshima

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xxsycamore · 9 months ago

Text

⊰∙ LUDUS ∙⊱

╰┈➤ Napoleon is your highschool sweetheart, and despite how close the two of you are, you're yet to have your first kiss. Now that you're both out of highschool and even the stress of your college entrance exam is behind you, you can't help focusing on your boyfriend and the things you want to experience with him...

Napoleon Bonaparte x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Horny Teenagers (they're 18-19 btw!); Modern Era; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Aged-Down Character(s); First Kiss; French Kissing; Making Out; Awkward Boners; No Sex • wordcount: 3,243 • masterlist

a/n: Here we are. After a whole damn day of thinking about this dream I had, I turned it into a fic. This was also a great chance to explore this dynamic that I really like! Intimacy where nothing feels rushed, even when they are both needy and curious about where it could lead. I really liked the overall nonchalant vibe this whole thing had in my dream and I tried to convey it here as well. Enjoy!

Sitting at the desk in your room, you can't help this subtle feeling of academic responsibility that eats at you. Even if your final year at high school is over now, with your college entrance exam coming up, you can hardly catch your breath. You wish you could be more like Napoleon… He never loses his cool, seemingly breezing through it all just as you always remember him to be. Not that you can be mad at him, especially not when he's been helping you so much with your studies in the past four years. Even before you two started dating.

You've come a long way now, it seems. Your teenage romance started at the very beginning of highschool, back when he caught your eye pretty much from the get-go. He was hard not to notice, anyway, being practically everywhere. The student council, the sports team, the literature club, never not stopping to talk to someone in the corridors, he was not only extremely popular but also good at academics. His only flaw was being extremely late for first class, every single morning, but that never truly affected his grades. You figured it's only to be expected, a busy student like him must be finding it hard to catch up on sleep. Except, when you accidentally found his secret napping spot in the school's attic, he revealed to you that he actually never sleeps less than 8 hours a night. Huh. You'd apologized many times for your intrusion - you figured even social butterflies like him need some alone time - but he still didn't mind you staying with him. This is how you unexpectedly came to know him better, once it became a regular meeting spot for the two of you. There was also this guy, Leonardo, something right between a delinquent and a genius - he'd join you from time to time, going as far as inventing a makeshift detector that would wake you all up in the event of a janitor or someone else approaching your hiding spot. Once you joked about the three of you forming a "napping club", and Napoleon laughed so much he nearly hit his head on the low ceiling. You were surprised, to say the least. Not unpleasantly so, but… it was quite the twist to his otherwise spotless prince charming reputation. From there on, once you discovered how easy is to make Napoleon laugh, it became one of your favorite things to do. Even in inappropriate situations. Especially in inappropriate situations. The dynamic of your friendship slowly changed as his polite side cracked to reveal the devil incarnated underneath, one that ruffles the top of your head and makes a mess out of it every single day. Of course, you didn't back down to him one bit, like a never-ending game of cat and mouse. Until at one point everyone around you knew what was going on, everyone but the two of you.

You'd never seen him as nervous as when he asked you out, but from there on, things between you have been going as smoothly as ever - that's it, if you count getting used to his romantic side first. Napoleon is nothing short of the perfect boyfriend, one that you're still not quite sure you deserve. He's spontaneous, but could very well plan ahead if he wishes to, when it comes to dates. He quickly fills your bedroom with various plushies he gifts you, and never shies away from physical affection either - holding hands, hugging, or just holding you close every chance he gets. And once he caught up on your sweet cravings during your periods, he made it a habit to bring your favorite chocolate when he comes over during those days...

The only thing that keeps you from being constantly head-over-heels for him to the point of not functioning normally is how much of a menace he can be sometimes. An absolute bully. Once again, in the current moment, he's done with his own studies far quicker than you are, and he's messing up with you instead.

"Look up, this time for real. C'mon."

He's standing behind your desk chair, "helping" you with your entrance exam material, but giving you the answers right away seems to be too easy for him. You don't know why you rest your back in your chair and do look up towards him - you don't know why he's in your room, to begin with - and he leans down and kisses your forehead. Just like that.

The soft sensation of his lips against your skin gives you butterflies, and you feel giddy against your own will. You can't help it.

"Don't get distracted now, Nunuche, you almost got it."

His large hands are resting on your shoulders, cupping them, caressing them slowly in something like an encouraging massage. It's like he can't decide if he wants your attention or if he wants to be of genuine help here. You don't remember him being this…needy. But perhaps you shouldn't be so surprised. With the hectic way everything has been the past month or so, forcing the both of you to be serious and responsible, he must be dying to become more lax for a change.

The next time he puts a sneaky kiss on your cheeks, of course, you're again chuckling at him, letting him tear down your concentration bit by bit - maybe it is indeed time for a break - until you feel your heartbeat speeding up with a dangerous thought crawling to your head. It's very bold, and you're not sure how he'd react but…

"Hey, lean over again? Just a little bit more. A liiitle bit—"

Even if it ends up being sort of upside-down, you easily manage to align your faces, and your lips touch Napoleon's. The sensation is somewhere between feather-light and bold enough for both of you to fully register the other's presence lingering there for a second. It's you and Napoleon's first kiss. In the short time you've been dating, the playful friendship between you did come to include those romantic gestures, the dates, the hugs, but somehow it never came to this. Neither felt the need to rush things. It's always been so natural, so you figured he wouldn't mind if your first kiss happened without unnecessary grandeur to it.

Even though he leans right into it without moving for the short duration of it, once the brief touch of his lips is gone you see him hiding his face in the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Utter defeat. You laugh at him, letting the bubbly feeling in your stomach overtake the anxiety. Gods, now only if this prep work would take care of itself...

Time goes by, and at long last, you find yourself sharing the joy of passing your entrance exam, together with Napoleon. As a part of the celebration, you go to the movies that same night. For the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax.

But now that your mind is free of one brand of thoughts, it just wants to fill itself with another. It's a cloudy afternoon, the sky darkened in what seems to be an upcoming storm, and you call Napoleon over. This weather simply calls for a nap! Without your favorite attic slash club room, you have to make do with your…what, super comfy bed covered with many pillows and the plushies he bought you? Seems like a bargain. Not that this is the first time Napoleon has been in your bed, the cuddle monster he is, but you haven't taken many naps there yet.

You want to suggest something to him today… It's strange, how anxious you're feeling, looking in the mirror for the tenth time in the past couple of minutes now. You were nervous about picking up your clothes for your nap date too, and ended up with a cutesy spaghetti-strap tank top and a pair of orange booty shorts. Just as you adjust the clothing some more on your hips, the doorbell rings. You rush to it with your bare feet on the cool floor tiles (heck, you really need to warm those up against Napoleon's own feet later!) and practically throw yourself at Napoleon before he even has the chance to take a step inside.

He's so soft to cuddle once he's in your bed, with his cotton black t-shirt and black sweatpants. Like one big teddy bear. The only thing missing is your sleepiness and that is, well, fundamental for the nature of your date. But you know the reason for that fairy well, and you decide to speak up before your boyfriend can fall asleep without you.

"Napoleon, say…"

"Mmm…?"

"How about we… kiss for a little bit? I feel like kissing."

A pair of turquoise eyes stare at you. While he doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, he doesn't mask his feelings well either. So it's weird that you can't tell what he's thinking right now, as he looks at you. Then he lets out a laugh.

"What's gotten into you?"

So, does he want to do it or does he not…? You breathe in noisily and start to fiddle with the hem of the blanket you're both under.

"Nothing, I just liked it, you know. Kissing you that one time at the desk. I wonder if we could do that again. We don't have to stop at that, even. No, I mean—…!!"

This time fully going into a hearty laughing fit, Napoleon turns on his back and covers his eyes with the back of his arm. He keeps that position even after his laughter dies down.

"By going all the way, you mean like, kissing with tongue?"

"W-Why do you feel the need to say it out loud?!"

You see him peeking at you, head turned to the side. His mouth is still blocked by his hand but you can swear he's smirking. You're starting to regret your suggestion, but not because you don't want to french kiss him, but rather… because you're not sure you can be as nonchalant about this as you planned to be.

"Sure, let's do it. C'mere."

He spreads his arms in invitation, like it's winter again and he's going to give you a nice warm cuddle. You're so used to his touch, his smell, his loud presence, yet you feel shivers when you nestle your head on his bicep. Napoleon tips your chin up, and your noses almost bump with how close you are. After simply staring into each other's eyes for a little bit, Napoleon wheezes and turns his head towards the ceiling again. You furrow your brows.

"Stop messing with me!"

"I'm sorry, Nunuche, it's just— snrk— you're serious about this, aren't you?"

Your legs start feeling restless under the blanket as your blood boils. He's the worst.

"You can just say you don't feel like it! Jeez!"

Before you can completely change your position, Napoleon captures your chin between his thumb and index fingers - firmer than what he did last time - and leans in for a kiss. It's another chaste one. But it's welcomed. It's exactly what you remember sharing with him, what you craved a taste of.

When you withdraw from each other, neither of you keeps their previous expression - no sign of mischief on his or of frustration on your face. You're back to staring at each other, with something akin to need. Something unexplored.

Napoleon's lips come near to yours again, but he waits for you to be ready to close the distance on your own. And you do so, without hesitation. You still want this as much as in the beginning, no, you want it even more now that he provoked you. Napoleon's lips part slightly. The drumming of your heart echoes into your ears as your tongue meets his, and- what are you supposed to do now?

Napoleon chuckles and the sound is so close to you, as if resonating inside your own head. He takes the lead, like he's always done for you - his tongue moving between your lips, prodding them open, caressing. His tongue feels… weird, but it's something you quickly get used to. You don't want to be passive, so you try imitating what he does. Why is he so good at this? Actually, you can't quite judge what's good or bad with your lack of experience. He pulls out, breathing softly while looking at you, checking for reactions from you. You use the chance to ask.

"Have you done this a lot before?"

"What, do you think I've fooled around like this with others? You're my first love, Nunuche, I think I've told you that."

You can only guess it's due to your heart already being put on racing mode that you don't die over his words, but then the realization makes your eyes widen.

"So how do you know what you're doing?"

"I don't. I just do what feels good. Here, let's try again."

You manage to nod before he dives into it again, a little excited almost. You're quicker to open up for him this time, and his warm tongue dances around yours again. While eagerly returning the gesture, your teeth accidentally clank into his. But neither pays too much mind to it, simply continuing. You try to breathe through your nose as much as you can, but you still end up letting out a small noise, a grunt, like you're out of breath. Napoleon always finds it hard not to touch a part of you while you're close - you're almost surprised he kept his hands to himself all the way until now, or maybe that means he's been extra concentrated on what he's doing. Either way, his right hand finds your shoulder, gently caressing it. It's only when he starts nudging you to rise up that you understand his intentions, and you oblige. It's indeed better when you're sitting up in bed instead of lying down. Finding the right position is a bit awkward as you thought you'd be alright sitting on your folded knees, but you need to be even closer, so you end up sitting in his lap. As if pulled by a magnet, you never withdraw from the kiss the whole time until you settle nicely into the new arrangement and it stops mattering altogether.

Napoleon tries something new, sucking on your bottom lip before tugging slightly on it using his teeth. It's playful, and he gives you a second of eye contact and that look in his eyes already makes you want to return the gesture - you've been copying him tit for that all this time, frankly. Exploring each other like that feels good, even if it's strange. Like skipping ten steps ahead, but also like you want to keep making progress. As if there's a secret new technique you're about to discover next, so you have to try it all. Your restless fingers run through the dark hair at the back of his head. You've always found this part of him attractive, and it seems very appropriate to caress him that way right now. He, in turn, grabs your waist with both hands, moving them slowly up and down. It feels nice. You're a bit sensitive, more so than when he normally pets you there and there. Something like a mewl comes out of your lips, and Napoleon sucks on your tongue. It's like he purposedly goes into it harder when it's about time to let go and catch a breath. Doesn't he know you'll just end up making more troubled noises that way…?

You initiate another kiss, all too soon, and his soft pants are hot little huffs of air against your lips when you capture them. He too, makes some noises, you've never heard those, not even when he's short of breath after a practice. Not when he takes you to the local manège on the weekends, riding on the back of his favorite mare there that he takes care of. Your fingers travel further up, where the strands of hair are longer, and you tug a little. Napoleon makes another noise, and your stomach sinks for some reason.

"Is that enough kissing for you, Nunuche?"

You blink your eyes into focus - realizing you had them closed for a few whole minutes now, and the room has gotten quite dark on top of that because of those clouds outside. There's a pout on your lips, even if you never planned to get so into it… But you gotta agree, it's getting a bit too much for your heart already. So you sigh, carefully backing out of his lap.

"Can't believe that got you feeling sleepy! No, don't tell me, I know… It's a five-star rarity type of weather for a nap, right? Can't miss on that."

"You're funny, Nunuche."

The comfort of your bed is welcomed after how stiff your muscles got during your little session. Okay, maybe you are a little sleepy. Or maybe that's because of how long you were out of breath, you must have gotten a little dizzy. Facing away from Napoleon is not too bad, especially now that you're a little shy to look at him, and you're craving for some more familiar kind of touch, one that doesn't make your heart explode. So you nuzzle back into him, nudging him into a spooning position. He seems somewhat hesitant, so you try again… and you feel something hard poking you in the rear. Your face heats up.

"Oh my god, Napoleon, you're—"

"I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

You feel bad about him apologizing, and worry about him getting the wrong idea because you instantly put some distance between yourself and him in the heat of the moment.

"Please, it's me who should apologize! I suggested this and didn't realize you'd get— um—…Y-You can leave if you want to, you'd probably want to—"

"It's fine, don't think about it, okay? As long as it doesn't bother you, I mean. Or if you want me to leave—"

"I don't! I mean, unless you want to! I'd understand if you need to— take care of it… you know…"

In a rare moment where both you and Napoleon are feeling awkward, not even looking each other in the eye, you don't expect him to laugh, yet here he is.

"W-What's so funny now! Honestly, Napoleon…!"

"Nothing, it's just… You can be so brave with your actions yet you feel shy saying some things out loud. I'm sorry, I just find it cute. Come on, Nunuche, just go to sleep already."

The pout is back on your lips, and in response, you just let out a small "hmph" noise before pulling the blanket up to your nose. Despite having a head full of racing thoughts, you soon find yourself dozing off. In the last moment before you drift to the land of dreams, you sense movement on the bed, and it seems like Napoleon is leaving it. He's out of the room, seemingly going in the direction of the bathroom…? You're not quite sure, because the sound of his footsteps gets lost together with your consciousness. When you wake up later, you wonder if he'd let you kiss him again. Do you have to worry about giving him boners every time you two kiss now? That would be such a shame, you really liked doing that with him...

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @nightvers @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen napoleon #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen series #ikeseries #otome

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