#like sometimes i think of really soft thoughts like these

[venuslarkspur]

Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)

Playtime’s Over.

Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.

Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!

Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.

Thanos

- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)

- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.

- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.

- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.

- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.

- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.

- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.

- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.

Se-Mi

- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.

- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.

- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.

- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!

- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.

- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.

- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(

- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.

Kang Dae-Ho

- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.

- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.

- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.

- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.

- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.

- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.

- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.

Seong Gi-Hun

- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.

- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.

- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.

- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.

- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.

- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.

Cho Hyun Ju

- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.

- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.

- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’

- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”

- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?

- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.

Park Gyeong-Seok

- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.

- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.

- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?

- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.

- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.

- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.

- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.

- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.

- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.

[bloatedandalone04]

Kiwi

Summary: You’re pregnant with Rafe’s baby, and he’s more stressed out about it than you are (and rightfully so).

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, swearing, protective rafe, soon to be dad rafe, smut, angst if you squint, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

You were steadily entering your second trimester, which was shaping out to be a little easier than your first. You were still craving the weirdest food combinations, but Rafe would never complain about needing to go out and buy them for you since the grateful smile you always gave him made his heart feel so full. 

Seven years with you, and he was still as crazy about you as he’d been since the first date. 

With that being said, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend to like your weird (and sometimes really fucking gross) pregnancy cravings. But he would have to, since you’re carrying his baby like a fucking champ, and you looked so stunning while doing so. 

Rafe had just gotten back from a grocery store run, sporting a bag full of odd food choices for you, and he set it down on the counter before leaving the kitchen to go find you. 

You were in the living room, your feet planted on the couch as you scrolled through your phone. Why you were standing on the couch, he had no idea, but the thought of you accidentally falling was the first thing that flashed through his head, and he was not about to let that happen. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped, quickly walking over to you and grabbing your waist. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You’re four months pregnant, babygirl, you need to be careful. Jesus Christ.”

“I am being careful,” you defended yourself, holding your phone in one hand while your other ran through his hair. You looked around the living room, your eyes flickering between every corner as you stayed standing on the couch. “I saw a spider, and I don’t know where it went. And you know how much I hate spiders. I had to make sure it didn’t crawl on me or something. Then I would’ve been the one having a heart attack.”

You sounded so unserious, but Rafe knew you were being completely genuine. Your fear of anything that had more than two legs was no joke, and he couldn’t count the times he’s killed something for you on both hands. 

“Plus, I’ve only been standing here for, like, five minutes,” you added, looking down at him and shrugging casually, as if you didn’t feel the way his grip tightened on you at your words. 

“Five minutes is too fucking long,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head afterwards as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against your belly. “You’re not thinking straight right now, are you? That’s the only logical explanation for this.”

His big hands stayed planted on your waist, keeping you steady as he pulled away and looked up at you, his blue eyes wide and full of nothing but adoration for you and the little life growing inside of you. 

“You’re going to give me gray hairs, you know that right?” he grunted, a smile forming on his lips when you let out a soft laugh. 

“Ooh, silver fox Rafe,” you teased, draping your arms around his neck as he helped you off the couch. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’d look so fucking hot with gray hair, baby. Like, so fucking sexy. So don’t tempt me.”

Rafe scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Silver fox? I’m twenty nine, baby, not forty,” he mumbled, “But, I guess if you like that sorta thing…who am I to judge?”

You laughed, leaning into his touch as you pressed your lips to his jaw. “I like anything that involves you,”

He smiled down at you, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I like anything that involves you too, babygirl,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “Actually, I love everything that involves you.”

Then he was leaning all the way in and kissing you deeply and slowly, his hands sliding down your body until they grazed your ass, and then he was full on groping you through your leggings. 

You whined against his mouth, your lips pressing more firmly against his as you pulled him impossibly closer to you until your bump was pushing against his abs. “You always have to one up me, don’t you?” you muttered, “And what’s with you always grabbing my ass? You’ve been obsessed with it since we got together.”

Rafe smirked down at you. “Of course I’m obsessed with it, it’s part of you,” he replied, and you pressed your lips together. 

“You are so fucking sweet and sexy and I think we should go to our bedroom before I-” you cut yourself off by screaming directly into your husband’s face as you practically jumped back up onto the couch with wide eyes. 

Rafe didn’t even need to turn around to know that the eight legged creature who scared you before had made its big return. “What did I tell you?” he muttered, taking you into his arms as he lifted you from the couch. 

“Rafe! Stop, it’s literally right there and it’s so fucking big,” you protested as he carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen. Once he had you sitting safely at the breakfast bar, he slid the bag of food over for you to inspect as he grabbed a piece of paper towel. 

“Stay here, okay? Eat something,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he walked back into the living room to find the harmless insect that had been tormenting you during the entire time he was gone. 

-

You were pulling Rafe along with you towards the bedroom, your lips all over his neck and jaw, but he was moving so slowly. You were now six months pregnant, and Rafe had become more and more protective of you, if that was even possible at this point. 

And while you loved him for it, his hesitation every time you initiated sex was making you go crazy. You were so turned on, and you needed your husband. 

“Rafe,” you moaned, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you walked backwards. “I need you. I need you so bad. Please? I promise, I won’t break.” you whined, nearly stumbling as you pulled him along with you. 

Rafe’s hands instantly tightened on your waist, his thumbs brushing along the underside of your belly as it pressed against his abs through his shirt. “Easy, babygirl,” he cooed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” 

While you knew he wanted to be gentle and sweet with you, you also knew exactly how to rile him up and get him going. Rafe had been obsessed with your body since the second he first saw you completely bare, and his obsession had only intensified once your body began to change due to your pregnancy. 

You stepped back and pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts that had grown so much, they were nearly spilling out of your bra. You watched Rafe bite his lip before you moved onto your leggings, and you stepped out of them and kicked them aside as well. 

Rafe groaned as he pulled off his own shirt and jeans, his hands finding your waist again as he moved to sit on the bed. “Come here,” he murmured, sliding your panties down your legs before he guided you onto his lap. 

You willingly went, a needy whine leaving your lips as you settled on top of him and pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard cock. “I love you,” you moaned, kissing him as you began to rub yourself along his dick. “I love you so much.”

He gripped your hips, guiding the slow rolls of your body. “I love you too, baby,” he groaned, “More than my next fucking breath.”

His words made your head feel all fuzzy, and he lifted you slightly to position himself at your soaked core. When he eased you back down onto his cock, you both let out a sound of relief as you came together as one, and you reveled in the feeling of his big hands on your body. 

“Fucking perfect,” he praised, his eyes hooded as his hands slid around to grip your ass gently.

You moaned loudly, holding onto his shoulders as you rolled your hips against his as best as you could with your bump persistently brushing against his stomach. “Fuck,” you whimpered, arching your back a bit and making your chest press right up against his. “Oh fuck, Rafe, you feel so good.” 

He felt so good, you were powerless to stop the loud moans from leaving your mouth as you rode him. Rafe’s hands slid up your back and fumbled with the clasp of your bra before he pulled the fabric away from your body, his palms immediately roaming over the newly exposed skin. “Fuck, babygirl, you’re so tight and wet for me. Sweet pussy was made for my cock,” he grunted, rolling your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled under his touch. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Then he was leaning in and kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against yours as he met your bounces with upward thrusts of his hips. You moaned against his mouth, his words making your body heat up in a blush. You’d never get tired of hearing him say things like that. 

His hands moved to your belly, and he caressed it as he broke the kiss and buried his face against your shoulder. “God, you feel so good,” he moaned, making your blush deepen as you moved a little faster and a bit harder.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt your thighs start to burn from over-exertion. “Oh, fuck…I’m gonna cum.” you warned, feeling the knot that had been steadily building up inside you start to tighten. 

Rafe grunted, reaching in between your bodies until the heel of his hand was pressed firmly against the underside of your belly and his fingers were brushing against your clit. “Yeah, cum for me, baby,” he murmured, his other hand moving to your hip as he guided you to take him a little harder. “I’m close too.”

His fingers pushed you over the edge, and your head fell forward onto his shoulder as you came for him. A cry left your lips as you weakly bounced on his lap, your legs shaking a bit as you pulled on his hair. “Fuck,” you gasped, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as you felt him thrust a few more times before he stilled.

A deep groan left the back of his throat as he held you close to him, his warmth filling you up from the inside out as he let out harsh pants against the side of your neck. “I’ll never get over that,” he muttered, placing soft kisses along your shoulder as he ran his hands up and down your back. “I’ll never get over you.”

You grinned as he gently eased you off him and moved back on the bed, taking you with him as he leaned back against the pillows. “Good,” you hummed as he turned you around and spooned you from behind. “Because I think you’re stuck with me for life.”

When you guided his big palm to rest on your belly, Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head as his thumb rubbed along your swollen skin. “Good,” he echoed. “Because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. You’re all I want in the world.”

A lazy smile formed on your lips as you snuggled back against him, and only a few seconds later, you had fallen asleep.

-

Not me working on my birthday again...thanks for reading x

[eddiegettingshot]

your prompt for today: pink🩷

When their night out winds down, and they land on Eddie’s doorstep, Buck’s gut begins to prickle with sudden nerves, or maybe anticipation. He really can’t tell the difference. Strange, because he thought he’d been handling being on a first date with his best friend pretty well. After all, it’s a song and dance that’s usually about making a good first impression, and not only did that ship sail years ago, but Buck didn’t even get it right. So dinner just felt like dinner, except for the fact that Eddie kept their feet tucked together beneath the table the whole time.

Granted, there were a few days where Buck kept forgetting anything had changed between them if they weren’t physically together, if Eddie didn’t have a hand on him, like he’d lost all sense of object permanence where Eddie was concerned. What’s startling is that in most ways, nothing has. 

Like this: Eddie turns to him now as he unlocks his front door, brow arched. 

“What, you got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Buck doesn’t bother asking what Eddie had seen in him, that he’d decided he needed to stake an explicit claim on the rest of Buck’s night (and, with luck, the morning?). It’s not like he’s in the habit of playing things close to the vest, but half the time he doesn’t even need to say a word—not to Eddie. He’d been peeled open long before he knew he had anything to confess.

Easy to imagine: himself, held in the tender cradle of Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s thumbs feeling down his center to find the tenderest spot, pushing deep all at once, prying him apart—through the rind of him, his ribcage, so all his insides, overripe with adoration, come spilling out into Eddie’s palms. That’s how it feels. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

“No,” he says, shuffling closer. He’d been hanging back, playing with his car keys in his pocket.  “No, I—I’m coming in.”

“Good.” 

Eddie sounds so openly pleased. Warmth spills through Buck’s spine. He hadn’t considered that he wasn’t alone in this—bracing against some new humming energy, staring too closely at the back of Eddie’s neck—but he watches Eddie’s shoulders soften, right before he lets Buck inside.

Then, once Buck’s on the couch, thinking really intently about how they’re going to occupy it together (it’s been a busy week; they haven’t even seen enough of each other for Buck to have adapted to their new rules of engagement. Can he crawl into Eddie’s lap?), Eddie pauses, says, “Uh, hold on,” and bustles off to the kitchen. 

He returns with a lighter for the candle sitting on the coffee table, which is—new. Buck hadn’t noticed until now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie light a candle in all the years he’s spent in this house, and now his lip is trapped between his teeth as he does it, avoiding Buck’s eyes all the while.

It hits Buck hard and fast: Eddie is really, really nervous. And trying to be romantic, for Buck. And if he crawled into Eddie’s lap, probably Eddie would laugh, and let him; he’s allowed. And maybe nothing feels different but it’s all changed. That’s what Buck wants, for once. That’s what Eddie wants, judging by his wide dark eyes, flushed cheeks, the flickering candlelight. Sometimes Buck’s slow on the uptake. This time, he might have just been scared. 

“You look nice,” Buck says. 

Kind of bad timing—Eddie’s just in his socks; he’d shed his jacket and the fancy watch Buck’s only seen him break out a couple times; he’d undone the first couple of buttons on his shirt; he must have run his hands through his hair when he was out of sight, since it’s falling halfway down his forehead. Buck should have said something when he picked Eddie up—he’d thought it, then, but he had been so comfortable with Eddie in his passenger seat, he didn’t want to risk making things weird.

Eddie’s laugh is just a soft puff of air. He relaxes. “Thanks,” he says, coming around to sink down beside Buck, turning a knee out so they’re touching, as if by reflex. 

“I like that color on you,” Buck continues. “Always have.”

“Hm,” Eddie says, smiling. He’s in rose pink. He’s also leaning closer, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips down Buck’s brow, his cheek. His eyes flicker, and suddenly they’re trained on Buck’s mouth. Buck’s stomach swoops boyishly. “It’s a good color.”

Holy shit, Buck thinks, head full of jasmine and honey and smoke and the cologne Eddie’s wearing, something unfamiliar with an exotic spiced note. They kissed before—they’ve been kissing all week—except this time Buck starts whimpering before their lips meet, and Eddie swallows whatever strangled noise he makes with a grin. Buck lurches in, fisting urgent hands into the front of Eddie’s shirt. 

“Eddie,” he pants after a while. It’s hard-won, because Eddie is demanding, and he bites. “Eddie, are you sure?” 

Now that they’ve done it, like, really crossed the line, gotten a taste—he’s gotta know if this is what Eddie was looking for, when he told Buck he loved him. Not just the sex, which they’re definitely about to have—all of it. Buck shoves his knuckles against Eddie’s chest to feel his heart gallop, hard but steady like it grew Thoroughbred legs. 

Eddie’s cupping his face in both hands while they kiss. He pulls away, not far, and surveys Buck the way he would a patient: like he’s trying to puzzle out what’s going on beneath Buck’s skin, in all the places he can’t quite reach.

“Buck,” he says, gently. “Of course.” 

He pushes his thumb between Buck’s teeth. Satisfied, Buck drags him back in.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

BLOCK ME OUT

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: haunted by her ex’s cruel words, y/n wishes she could block herself out. but rafe sees her differently—like she hung the stars in the sky.

based on this ask !! thank you for this anon, apologies that it’s taken so long, but i hope it’s what you asked for and you enjoy it :) <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: appearance insecurities, angsty with a soft ending, soft!rafe, rafe thinking violent thoughts (nothing unusual😝), past emotionally/verbally abusive relationship (reader’s ex), crying, cursing, allusions to sex. (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes tracing the features she had long since memorised yet never quite accepted. The fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows, making every perceived flaw stand out even more—the uneven texture of her skin, the way her cheeks seemed too full in certain angles but too hollow in others, the faint blemishes she could never quite cover no matter how much makeup she wore. Her fingers ghosted over her jawline, then moved to her lips, hesitating as if debating whether they were too thin or too full.

She sighed, dropping her hand and looking away. It didn’t matter. It never did.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice echoed from the hallway, warm and familiar. He must have noticed how long she had been in here. She took a breath and composed herself before stepping out, her lips pulling into a small, forced smile.

“Hey,” she said casually.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with that soft yet unreadable expression he sometimes had when he thought she wasn’t looking. His blue eyes flickered over her face, taking in every detail as if memorising it. She knew he was about to say something—probably a compliment, because he always did. And just like always, she prepared to ignore it.

“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmured, almost absentmindedly, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Y/N scoffed quietly, shaking her head as she crossed the room. “No, I don’t.”

Rafe frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in concern, but he didn’t argue. He never did. Instead, he just watched as she climbed into bed beside him, her body curling up instinctively, as if trying to take up less space. He noticed that too.

It had started small, the little deflections. The way she would dismiss any compliment he gave her with a wave of her hand or a disbelieving laugh. At first, he assumed she was just being humble, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized it was something else.

Something deeper.

A wound that hadn’t healed.

Rafe didn’t push. He didn’t ask. But he noticed.

Like the way her smile always faltered for just a second when someone called her pretty, as if the word physically pained her. Or how she always changed the subject when he told her she was beautiful, shifting the conversation so quickly it was almost seamless. If he wasn’t paying such close attention, he might’ve missed it.

But he was always paying attention.

Y/N knew she should appreciate Rafe’s compliments, knew that he wasn’t just saying them to be nice. But she couldn’t make herself believe them. Not after everything.

Not after him.

Her ex’s voice still lingered in the back of her mind like a ghost, whispering cruel words she could never quite erase.

“You really think you’re all that? God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure it’s pathetic.”

“I don’t know why you even bother with makeup—it doesn’t help.”

“No one’s looking at you the way you think they are. You’re just… average.”

She had spent so much time believing those words, internalising them, letting them take root deep inside her until they became an unshakable truth. And now, even though he was gone, even though she had someone like Rafe in her life—someone who looked at her like she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—she still couldn’t silence that voice.

Rafe had never once made her feel anything less than wanted. He never criticised, never made offhanded comments that chipped away at her self-worth. But that didn’t mean she knew how to accept kindness when it was given to her.

She felt his fingers brush lightly against her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“You tired?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

She nodded, grateful for the easy out. “Yeah. Just a long day.”

Rafe didn’t question it. He just reached over and pulled the blanket up over her, as if shielding her from whatever weight she was carrying. And maybe in his own way, he was.

She turned onto her side, facing away from him, but she could still feel his gaze on her, feel the warmth of his presence beside her.

For a moment, she let herself pretend that it was enough.

—

The night had started out perfectly.

Dinner was casual, nothing extravagant—just the two of them at his place, sitting across from each other, laughing between bites of food. It had been easy. Light. Y/N had almost felt normal, like the weight of her insecurities wasn’t pressing so hard against her ribs.

Rafe had been extra touchy that evening—his fingers brushing hers when he handed her a glass of wine, his palm resting at the small of her back as they moved through the house. Small touches, each one sending a shiver down her spine.

And now, here they were.

Y/N lay beneath him, the world shrinking to just the two of them, just the warmth of his body and the way his lips moved against hers like he couldn’t get enough. His hands skimmed her sides, slow and teasing, as if memorising every inch of her.

The air in the room had thickened, charged with something electric.

She should’ve been lost in it.

But she wasn’t.

Because the moment his fingers hooked under the hem of her shirt, inching it up over her ribs, that voice came creeping back.

“You think he really wants to see you?”

“You think he won’t notice how bad you look from this angle?”

“God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure, it’s pathetic.”

She tensed.

Rafe noticed immediately.

His lips paused against her neck, and she felt his breath, felt the slight hesitation in his movements. “You okay?” he murmured, voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a nod, forcing herself to push through it. Don’t ruin this. Don’t overthink it. Just let him love you.

But then his hands moved again, slipping beneath the fabric, and panic surged through her like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, she wasn’t here anymore. She was back in that old apartment, standing under fluorescent lighting as her ex tilted his head and examined her with a critical gaze.

“Your stomach isn’t as flat as you think.”

“I mean, yeah, you look good from the right angle, but not always.”

“Don’t get mad. I’m just being honest.”

Her breath hitched. The room felt smaller. Her chest ached.

She didn’t even realise she was shaking until Rafe pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn’t place. “Talk to me, baby.”

But she couldn’t.

Because she was already spiralling.

She shoved at his chest lightly, needing space, needing air. And Rafe—sweet, perceptive Rafe—moved immediately, sitting back on his heels, giving her exactly what she needed. But even with the distance, she couldn’t breathe right.

“I—I can’t do this,” she choked out, her throat tightening. “I just—I don’t—”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt pathetic, completely unravelling in front of him over something so stupid.

But Rafe didn’t move, didn’t rush her. He just watched her, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to piece together what had broken.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her breaths coming faster. “I just—” Her voice cracked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t feel good enough for you.”

The confession slipped out before she could stop it, and suddenly, the dam broke.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed of how easily she was falling apart.

“Y/N…”

She felt the mattress dip as Rafe moved closer, but he didn’t touch her. He just waited.

Waited for her to speak.

Waited for her to let him in.

She sniffled, wiping at her tears, but more came. “I—I don’t get how you could look at me like you do,” she whispered. “I don’t get how you could actually—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “How you could actually want this.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, confusion and pain flashing across his face. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a wet, bitter laugh. “I see myself, Rafe. I see what I look like from different angles. I know what people see.”

Rafe was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “You don’t know what I see.”

She swallowed hard. “I just—” Her voice trembled. “I worry that… that you’re not actually attracted to me. That you just think you are.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick.

And then, softly, carefully, Rafe asked, “Why do you think that?”

She exhaled shakily, dropping her gaze.

She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to open that box. But he deserved to know.

“My ex,” she finally whispered. “He… he made sure I knew what was wrong with me. All the time.”

Rafe went rigid.

She saw it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm, but she could see the fire behind his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and steady, like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. “Tell me what he said to you.”

Her throat felt tight, but she forced the words out. “He told me I wasn’t as pretty as I thought. That my body wasn’t as nice as I thought. That I only looked good from certain angles.” Her voice cracked. “And I believed him.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, looking away, his hands gripping the sheets like he was barely holding himself together. She could see the anger simmering beneath his skin, the way he wanted to break something, to scream, to hurt the person who had done this to her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned back to her, and when he spoke again, his voice was full of something even stronger than rage.

Love.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And not just from certain angles. Always.”

She tried to look away, but he didn’t let her.

“You think I don’t notice the way you brush off my compliments? The way you never believe me when I tell you how fucking perfect you are?” His voice wavered slightly, but he kept going. “It kills me, Y/N. It kills me that someone made you feel like this. That someone convinced you that you weren’t enough.”

More tears welled in her eyes. “Rafe…”

“No.” His voice was raw now, his emotions spilling over. “You are everything to me. Everything. And I don’t just want you—I crave you. Every part of you. Every inch of you. I don’t care what angle, what lighting, what bullshit insecurity you think you have—I love all of it. Because it’s you.”

Her lip trembled. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You are enough. You are more than enough.”

She broke.

Sobs wracked her body, and Rafe pulled her into his arms, holding her like he would never let go. He whispered into her hair, his voice soothing and warm, telling her over and over again how perfect she was, how much he loved her, how much she meant to him.

And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to believe him.

Because when Rafe Cameron looked at her, he didn’t see flaws. He didn’t see imperfections.

He saw the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see them too.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute and emotional one :’) i had this written up before i went away but finally got to editing it, just spending eh next couple days editing and posting the requests in my drafts !!

i hope this is what you asked for anon !! and as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) don’t hesitate to request <3

[marscardigan]

freak like me

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: since you started dating ellie, you always wanted to do something with her. so, when one day, she asks about your favorite fetishes, you decide to show her yourself.

word count: 0.9k

content warning: smut (minors dni), kind of exhibitionism(?, porn with plot, don't know what this is I just had to write it down

You loved your girlfriend. You loved how caring and understanding and kind she was. How she would never judge your actions, and how she always made you laugh.

You also loved how she supported every crazy idea that ran through your mind. But maybe this idea was sick and twisted.

But how could you lie to those pretty eyes? Ellie kept looking at you with a sly grin, cheeks flushed from her previous comment.

"C'mon babe, I already told you mine" she whined, hiding her pouty face in the crook of your neck.

You scoffed, "Ellie, you just said you like being praised while you fuck."

"So? It's still something that turns me on!" You could feel her shy smile hiding beneath your touch. "You need to tell me."

"Nah, I'll pass."

"Come on! Is it really that bad?" She looked at you like a kicked dog, caressing your inner thigh softly.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see her face because you knew you would surrender. "It's so embarrassing."

"I'm sure I had worse thoughts, try me."

Her cold fingers touching your skin didn't help. At all. After opening your eyes and seeing her soft gaze towards you, you knew you were a goner.

Fuck it.

"I had like this thought about... Us making out on patrol..." Ellie kept her eyes locked on yours, shifting only to see your lips for a second. "While some infected are like... close to us? I-ugh, I don't know, it's fucking weird- I don't know why-"

Ellie's hand stopped right above your belly, making you dizzy. Both of you stayed quiet, but for different reasons.

You were so ashamed of saying that out loud, that you would've gladly died in that exact moment. Ellie, on the other hand, couldn't erase that dirty image from her head.

Neither of you spoke about it anymore, and you thought Ellie might have forgotten about it, but you were so wrong.

The next time you had patrol together was nine days later. Ellie counted them.

The plan was easy: clean infected from a mall close to Jackson. But the auburn had other plans. She'd have time to kill them after.

She promised you not to talk about it any time soon, but it was hard when it was all Ellie could think about.

When you first entered the mall, you killed a few from the first floor. But when you entered the parking, you could sense Ellie's focus was... indistinct, to say the least. On patrol, she was always behind you for security, but you could tell her eyes were definitely not on the possible threats. When you caught her staring at your ass for the second time, you knew this wasn't a coincidence.

"What are you thinking about?" Your funny tone only worsened the redness on her face.

Ellie could not believe how naive you sometimes were. "You should know what I'm thinking about."

Oh.

She smiled at your reaction. "Yeah, you know."

Was she teasing you know?

A clicking sound interrupted your conversation, and Ellie's smile only widened.

"Ellie." You warned, but she didn't notice the alert in your tone. She only noticed the need. She whispered your name back, grabbing your hips and trapped you between her body and the wall of the parking.

"You do remember what you told me the other day, right?" She whispered in your ear, making your legs shake.

You couldn't answer her, even if you really tried. You pushed your thighs harder against each other, almost moaning her name. Ellie whimpered.

"We should focus on the-ahm...the infected..."

Her hand ran lower every breath you took, getting closer and closer where you needed her the most. You kept calling out her name, and just before you close her eyes, you saw a clicker on the end of the hall. Ellie kissed you before you could alert her, and she kept swallowing every cry of pleasure your body echoed. Her knuckle kept brushing your panties as you nodded at her, the pleasure building inside your belly.

You were shamefully wet by the time she lowered your jeans. She laughed with pride at the sight, and looked up at you, her index finger brushing her lips. "You'll need to be quiet f'me, okay?"

You nearly came at the sight. You nodded, and brushed your fingers through her auburn locks. The finger that was just in her mouth brushed your core just the slightest, and you had to cover your mouth, but Ellie was quick to stop your action, shaking her head, “No-huh, baby, you need to keep making those pretty noises f’me.”

Her tongue slid through your cunt repeatedly, as if she was a starved woman. She grabbed roughly your thigh and pushed it above her shoulder, forcing you to keep it there.

A sob left your lips at the sight of Ellie on her knees, her strong arms making your whole body feel like jelly.

If you died here, you would die happy, you thought.

Your clit throbbed when she put the first finger, her eyes not leaving yours. The clicking sounds only made you harder to think about what was happening.

As she whimpered, her other hand between her legs, your walls finally broke down, and Ellie kept watching.

Your head was still numb when Ellie cleaned the corners of her lips, she pushed you gently and helped you put your jeans back, and a glass shattered.

A gasp sounded, and a clicker came running and-

A gunshot. Ellie’s grunt. The clicker fell right to the floor.

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, I think I came too.”

“Fuck off!”

[bogleech]

my breaking point with the bugs polls is that I don’t think worms are bugs. Idk what they are but those aren’t bugs. And then it seems like if you exclude that you can’t have ocean bugs (crustaceans)

Soft is not bugs except spiders and centipedes I guess are still bugs. This is hard

Technically, all insects are crustaceans, but arachnids are not crustaceans :) "Worm" on the other hand isn't a scientific grouping at all, but a name we gave to a body shape. It used to apply to snakes, too, and even lizards I think, like I mean in old OLD english, but now we only use "worm" if the long noodly animal is boneless.

Major groups that consist almost entirely of "worms" are as follows!

ANNELIDA: earthworms, leeches and polychaetes! These have complex organ systems including multiple brains and hearts, and some species can have eyes, jaws and tentacles!

NEMATODA: their own thing, the nematodes, though there's evidence they may share a lot of ancestry with arthropods??? They aren't technically in segments, with their outer cuticle being one piece (though it can be ribbed and "look" segmented). Also includes famous parasites like pinworms and the guinea worm but most of them are tiny little things living everywhere in the world, even in desert sand, perpetual snow, boiling springs and the deep sea abyss.

NEMATOMORPHA: the horsehair worms, almost all parasites of arthropods for whatever reason, which used to be mistaken for long nematodes but turned out to be their own phylum. The adults, which don't feed, have to reproduce in water, so they either live in aquatic hosts, or they live in land insects and force them to drown :)

PLATYHELMINTHES: planarians and other flatworms, including the parasitic flukes and tapeworms. This animal group has no organs or blood! They are just sheets of living tissue that's almost all the same, except for some external adaptations like suckers or feelers or different color patterns, feeding through a simple digestive channel some species can also evert like a tube. If you cut them up, all the pieces are flatworms and just grow back!

HEMICHORDATA: "acorn worms," but the "chordata" in their name might clue you in that these are actually more related to us vertebrates than they are to other animal phyla, retaining a nerve cord like the one that became our backbones millions of years ago.

NEMERTEA: ribbon worms, also sometimes called proboscis worms because a lot of them have a proboscis. A little more complex than flatworms but not by much! Otherwise not related.

XENOCOELOMORPHA: we thought these were just part of the flatworms until 2011, and we only knew of one species until 2016, when we discovered another three or four. This photo is one of the new ones, which we named Xenoturbella churro.

These are all distinct phylums of life, no more or less related to arthropods than arthropods are to them or to us and vice versa, and there's also worm-type animals in the mollusks and cnidaria! So if any kind of "worm" is a bug, they would all have to be, and then "bug" really would just mean MOST animals that exist of just whatever groups! Which, personally I agree is completely allowed if you feel like using it that way!

[chrissssssmut]

TRAPPED IN HER WORLD

Giselle x Male Reader feat. Ryujin

You never wanted to be here.

Clubs weren’t your thing.

Loud music. Sweaty bodies. Flashing lights.

It was a nightmare for an introvert like you.

But your so-called friends had dragged you along.

“Come on, Y/N, you never go out!”

“You need to live a little, man.”

So here you were.

Sitting alone at a booth while they disappeared into the crowd.

You checked your phone. 1:43 AM.

Just a couple more minutes. Then you could fake a stomachache and get the hell out of here.

That was the plan.

Until she appeared.

She slid into the seat across from you like she belonged there.

Long dark hair. Red lips. A Black Sexy Dress that somehow made her presence even bolder.

She smirked.

“You look like you’d rather die than be here.”

You blinked.

She chuckled. “Did I guess right?”

You hesitated. Then nodded.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“Well, lucky you. I like guys who don’t belong.”

Her eyes gleamed.

“What’s your name?”

“…Y/N.”

She grinned.

“I’m Giselle.”

And that was the moment your life changed forever.

Minutes turned into hours.

Talking with her was easy.

She didn’t ask pointless questions. She didn’t try to fix your introversion.

She just… understood.

And then—

“Let me get you a drink,” she said, standing up.

Before you could respond, another girl appeared.

Shorter. Sharp eyes. Dark blue hair.

“This is my friend, Ryujin,” Giselle introduced.

Ryujin smirked, sliding a glass in front of you.

“On the house.”

You hesitated.

Something felt off.

Giselle tilted her head. “What, scared I spiked it?”

You forced a chuckle. “Of course not.”

You drank.

And then—

The world tilted.

Your vision blurred.

Your heart slowed.

You looked up at them—

Giselle’s lips curled.

Ryujin whispered, “Nighty night.”

And then—

Darkness.

You woke up in a strange bed.

Cold. Expensive sheets. A faint smell of perfume and metal.

Your wrists were tied.

Panic surged.

The room was too quiet.

Then—

A door creaked open.

Giselle walked in.

She was different now.

No teasing smiles. No playful banter.

Just pure control.

She sat on the edge of the bed, running a knife along the mattress.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Your breathing hitched.

“What the hell is this?!”

She sighed. “See, Y/N… I really liked you.”

The knife pressed into the sheets.

“But I don’t waste my time on normal guys.”

She leaned in.

“And you? You’re mine now.”

You fought.

Screamed.

Begged.

Nothing worked.

The windows? Bulletproof.

The door? Locked from the outside.

Your phone? Gone.

And Giselle?

She was everywhere.

Watching. Controlling. Owning.

One night, she sat across from you at dinner.

“I should probably tell you what I do,” she mused.

You didn’t answer.

She smirked.

“I sell things.”

She swirled her wine glass.

“Drugs. Weapons. Sometimes… people.”

Your stomach dropped.

She tilted her head.

“But don’t worry.”

Her fingers brushed your jaw.

“You’re too pretty to sell.”

You shuddered.

.

.

.

.

You waited for the right moment.

The second Giselle left the room—

You ran.

Through the hallway. Down the stairs.

To the front door.

It was unlocked.

Your heart pounded. Was she careless?

You shoved the door open—

And froze.

Because outside?

Nothing.

Not a street. Not a sidewalk.

Just endless forest.

A voice whispered behind you.

“Where are you going, baby?”

You turned.

Giselle.

Smirking. Holding a gun.

Your legs gave out.

She crouched in front of you, pressing the barrel under your chin.

“You really thought I’d let you leave?”

You whimpered.

She smiled.

And whispered the words that sealed your fate.

“There is no escape, Y/N.”

“You belong to me.”

Days blurred into weeks.

You stopped fighting.

Stopped thinking.

Giselle made sure of that.

She controlled your food. Your sleep. Your sanity.

And one night—

She cupped your face.

“You finally understand, don’t you?”

Your lips trembled.

She kissed you. Soft. Slow. Poisonous.

And when she pulled away, she whispered—

“Say it.”

Your voice shook.

“I belong to you.”

Her smirk widened.

“Good boy.”

And as she pulled you into her arms—

You knew, deep down—

You would never leave.

Not because you couldn’t.

But because she wouldn’t let you.

Epilogue – The Final Escape

You had one last chance.

One last, desperate attempt at freedom.

You waited. Watched. Planned.

For months, you played along.

“Yes, Giselle.”

“I love you, Giselle.”

“I belong to you, Giselle.”

And slowly—she trusted you.

Until, one night, she left the door unlocked.

A mistake.

Or maybe… a test.

But you didn’t care.

You ran.

Through the halls. Down the stairs. Out the door.

And this time—

You didn’t stop.

The forest was endless.

Your lungs burned.

Your feet bled.

Branches clawed at your skin, but you didn’t stop.

The moon was your only light.

And for the first time in months—

You felt hope.

Then—

A gunshot.

BANG.

The sound ripped through the trees.

And a voice—

“Baby.”

Your blood ran cold.

Footsteps. Slow. Calculated. Hunting you.

You tried to run faster, but—

BANG.

Pain exploded through your leg.

You collapsed, gasping.

Dirt filled your mouth. Blood soaked your jeans.

And then—

She was there.

Standing over you.

Giselle.

Her silhouette sharp against the moonlight.

She crouched, pressing the barrel to your temple.

“I’m disappointed, Y/N.”

Tears burned your eyes.

“Please—”

She sighed, brushing your cheek.

“I gave you everything.”

You sobbed.

She tilted her head.

“Did you really think I’d ever let you leave?”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

And the last thing you heard—

Was her whisper.

“Goodbye, love.”

BANG.

But—

You weren’t dead.

Your ears rang. Your body shook.

The pain in your leg burned, but—your head? Untouched.

You gasped, blinking through the blur of tears.

Giselle’s voice was gentle.

“Shhh… it’s okay, baby.”

You barely processed it as she crouched beside you, her hands soft as they cupped your face.

“Did you really think I’d kill you?” she whispered, her tone almost… amused.

Your lips trembled.

“I—I heard the gun—”

She smiled.

And then—

She raised the gun to her own temple.

Click.

Empty.

Your stomach dropped.

She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear.

“I never load the last bullet.”

Your body froze.

She wasn’t planning to kill you.

She never was.

This wasn’t an execution.

This was a lesson.

Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“You’re mine, Y/N.”

She yanked you forward—forcing your gaze to meet hers.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“No more running.”

You sobbed.

She smirked.

“That’s my good boy.”

And as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead—

You realized the truth.

She didn’t need to kill you.

Because she had already won.

[cozmowrites]

Seven Minutes in Heaven?

The room was energized, red solo cups in hand and laughter bouncing off the walls. You hadn't even wanted to come to this party, but Ashido's pleading eyes and the promise of good snacks had been enough to convince you. Now, you sat cross-legged on the carpet, awkwardly watching as the group began to organize a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

"Okay, okay!" Ashido clapped her hands, voice carrying over the chatter. "Rules are simple: two names are drawn, and you spend seven minutes in the closet. No backing out unless you're a coward!"

You rolled your eyes but stayed seated. You guys played for a little bit, silly pairings like Uraraka and Tsuyu, Sero and Todoroki, Kirishima and Kaminari, though, no one has even been caught kissing yet.

"And the next name is... (Y/n)!" Ashido declared dramatically.

You froze, the heat rising to your cheeks as everyone's attention shifted to you. "What? No! Pick someone else."

"Nope, no take-backs! And now for your partner..." Ashido reached into the bowl, a sly grin spreading on her face as she pulled out a slip and read it before calling out. "Bakugou!"

Your stomach flipped. Of all people, it had to be him. You dared a glance at Bakugou, whose expression was irritation. His crimson eyes narrowed as he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.

"No way," he grumbled.

"C'mon, Bakugou!" Kaminari teased, slapping him on the back. "Be a good sport!"

"Don't be lame," Kirishima added with a grin. "It's just seven minutes."

Bakugou clicked his tongue but pushed off the wall. "Tch. Fine." He turned to you, his sharp gaze making your heart race. "You coming or what?"

Your feet moved before your brain caught up, trailing after him toward the closet. The group cheered and laughed behind you, Mina's voice counting down dramatically as the door shut with a soft click.

+++

The closet was small and barely lit, the outside colored lights of the party could be seen through the cracks of the door., The scent of old wood filling the air. You pressed your back against one wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Bakugou leaned against the opposite side, arms crossed and looking utterly unamused.

"This is stupid," he muttered.

You nodded, though he couldn't see, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until you decided you couldn't take it anymore. "We don't have to do anything, you know. We can just wait it out."

He snorted. "Like I was gonna do anything."

You rolled your eyes, the initial nerves fading as his usual attitude surfaced. "Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in the faintest smirk. "What? You think I'd waste my time on some dumb party game?"

You crossed your arms, a smirk of your own forming. "And yet, here you are."

He scoffed. "I was forced to obviously." The silence that followed wasn't as suffocating this time, tension settling between you.

"So," you started hesitantly, "you really didn't want to come either, huh?"

"Nope." He glanced at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "Raccoon eyes dragged me here. Said I need to 'loosen up' or some crap like that."

You laughed softly. "Same. She's good at that."

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the awkwardness easing with every passing second. Then Bakugou shifted, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. Time felt slow. Seven minutes should've been up but it wasn't It's barely been a minute.

"You really hate this kind of stuff, don't you?" He asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You hesitated but nodded. "Yeah. It's just.. too much sometimes. I don't like being the center of attention."

He hummed, his gaze thoughtful. "Then why'd you agree to play?"

"Didn't really have a choice." You shrugged, trying to play it off. "Didn't want to be the buzzkill."

Bakugou frowned, his brows knitting together. "That's dumb. If you don't want to do something, don't do it. Screw what anyone else thinks."

His bluntness caught you off guard, you didn't know how to respond. But then you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. "Thanks, Bakugou. You could've done the same too. Skipped on the party."

He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he wasn't sure how to handle your gratitude. "Whatever. Just saying."

The silence returned, but this time, it was almost comfortable. You found yourself studying him, the way the dim light cast shadows across his sharp features. He really was kind of handsome, in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way. You kind of wanted to kiss him, but being caught like that would be terrible for the both of you. You were counting quietly in your head. 2 minutes passed. Time was extremely slow.

"What?" He asked, catching you staring.

You quickly looked away, your face heating up. "Nothing!"

He smirked, and for a moment, you swore you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "You're a terrible liar."

He leaned forwards towards you. "W-what are you doing-?" You inhaled sharply as his hands were on either side of you. Your knees were in-between his and he was so close. You could feel his breath on your skin. It made the hair's on your arm stick up and the blush on your face deepen. You guys were just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

His crimson eyes gleamed with mischief. You weren't sure if he was serious or just messing with you. Either way, your heart was pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it.

"Relax," he said, his voice low and teasing. "What's got you so jumpy?"

You swallowed hard, your back pressing further against the wall. "Y-you're too close, that's what!"

He chuckled, the sound sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "You're acting like I'm gonna bite."

You glared at him, trying to muster up confidence despite the way your cheeks burned. "Wouldn't put it past you."

That earned a genuine laugh from him, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. He stayed there for a beat longer, his gaze dipping to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes.

"Seven minutes is a long time," he murmured, his tone softer now.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. His presence was overwhelming, his proximity intoxicating.

Then, he leaned in closer.

"Unless you tell me to stop," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. You didn't want him to stop.

Your voice was caught in your throat, but your lack of protest was answer enough for him. Bakugou hesitated for the briefest moment, as if giving you one last chance to push him away. When you didn't, he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was softer than you ever expected from someone so intense.

It was slow at first, unsure and nervous, but when you instinctively leaned into him, he was sure. One hand moved to cradle the back of your head, while the other pressed against the wall near your waist, keeping you steady as he deepened the kiss. You had moved your arms around his neck, to keep him in place.

Your heart raced, every nerve in your body alight with the feeling of him so close. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, but perfect against yours. You weren't sure how long it lasted—seconds, minutes, it all blurred together—but when he finally pulled away, you were both breathless.

His forehead rested lightly against yours. He gave you soft kisses, then another, long passionate kiss.

Then the door opened.

It made you both freeze.

Ashido stood there, her grin wicked as she took in the sight of you and Bakugou, still pressed close together, as you both scrambled to stop kissing.

"Well, well, well," she teased, hands on her hips. "Didn't think Seven Minutes in Heaven would actually live up to its name!"

You scrambled to put some distance between you and Bakugou, but his arm stayed firmly around your waist. He shot Ashido a glare, his voice low and irritated. "Shut up, raccoon eyes."

But before you both could get up so the game could continue, Ashido yelled out that they have their first couple of the game and you hid into his chest. You two were the only interesting talk of that game. And the rest of the night was easier than the beginning.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

requests ツ

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

You break down into tears and tell them: "It’s been so long since I’ve felt this happy, I think I just got overwhelmed. You make me happy.” 

Heartslabyul dorm; Savanaclaw dorm; Octavinelle dorm (here); Scarabia dorm; Pomefiore Dorm; Ignihyde Dorm; Diasomnia Dorm

Jade Leech – The hike was a grueling one, and late as well. You understood now why you had to pack a tent and sleeping bag for this one, thought he cooling air was helping with your sore feet.  

When you had arrived at the clearing, he had the two of you quickly set up and then led away to a hidden entrance. It was a cave where he kept his more dangerous mushrooms, the soft glow of the moon entering through holes in the roof reflecting the stalactites above with dew like a knives edge.  

He’s whispering softly, as if too loud of a sound will disturb them. Maybe that’s why the hitch in your breath seems to echo.  

He only grows more confused as you explain. Is this a land dweller reaction? No, no he had never seen something like this before, even in his short time interacting with others.  

He gives that polite smile that’s just on the edge of something softer, using his gloves to wipe them away before lifting your chin.  

“You must expect more from life,” He tells you, the words echoing divinely. “And if you cannot find it, cultivate it. All things can thrive, under the right conditions. That includes us.”  

Floyd Leech – Azul doesn’t like it when he does experimental dishes in the Monstro Lounge kitchen, which is silly, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the fight right now. So he just breaks into Ramshackle to cook in yours!  

You don’t mind really, they be experimental but they are usually tasty, sometimes even pretty, though you always double check that something like shellfish or shrimp is cooked to human temperatures. You two had learned that the hard way.  

He laughs at your scrunched up nose as you sip the broth from his spoon. He doesn’t see the way you just stare at him a moment, turning your face to hide.  

As he listens, his hands clench. That’s fucked up. It can’t-it shouldn’t- but it is. You can’t always do what you want when your shrimpy size. He can’t even do that at his size.  

He picks you up and twirls you around the kitchen, squeezing until you start laughing again.  

“I’ll just have to steal Shrimpy away more often,” he says, “And we can both be happy together. No more tears though. Lots of people deserve to cry, and Shrimpy isn’t one of them.”  

Azul Ashengrotto – It was a small debate, with you defending local business and him defending corporate business. It was something the two of you had done before, matching wits and parries, but something felt different this time.  

You just stare a moment, a soft smile until he saw it. A small tear quickly wiped away. Azul immediately wipes it away, asking what he did wrong, only to find the opposite. He simply makes you happy.  

He starts crying with you, the both of you a bit hysterical. He never imagined this. Somebody just being there to be there, how he values your opinion and thoughts, how you can debate like this and it not get too heated. The urge to collect and keep is so strong. To simply gather you into a cave and feed and gift you everything you could ever desire. But you wouldn’t take it and he knows it.  

So he settles with wiping your years with his embroidered handkerchief, appreciating the way the lavender contrasts with your skin.  

“Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple.” he declares, tucking the handkerchief into your dorm pocket, “You must simply stay by me.”  

[enhani-ki]

Omg I hope I don’t sound sick but would you do Niki x Jake’s girlfriend (Jake is aware of it but dose mind because Niki is his makne)🤧

he knows - ni-ki x reader x jake

warnings: smut, nsfw, cheating, drinking alcohol, cursing, etc.

ni-ki always found it amusing how you act around him. you're polite and reserved with everyone else but with him, you were comfortable. he's the only person you ever spoke to, the only one who could make you laugh.

whenever he cracked a joke, you'd giggle behind your hand, cheeks heating up and whenever he teases you or he'd throw subtle flirty remarks, you'd get all shy and quiet, looking anywhere but at him.

and whenever someone else tried to talk to you, you would just bow politely and walk away, sometimes outright ignoring them.

you had been rushing through the hallway so you could go home early when you accidentally bumped into someone.

"ah- sorry!" you gasped, quickly bending down to pick up your fallen things.

you heard a warm chuckle, pair of hands helped gather your belongings.

and when you looked up, you were met with a pair of kind, familiar eyes.

Sim Jaeyun.

he tilted his head with a curious expression. "oh?" he muttered, studying your face. his eyes lit up. "you're y/n, right?"

your heart skipped. "h-how…?"

jake grinned. "i think i saw your picture because of ni-ki." he laughed.

your face heated up instantly. "ahh…"

"he told me lots of things, you know?"

you groaned playfully, shaking your head. "he must've called me ugly again, right?"

jake let out a short laugh before shaking his head. "but you're not, though..." he continued, "you're very pretty."

"wha- what?"

he smiled, completely unfazed by your flustered face.

this is jake sim, and he just called you pretty.

you knew jake is a flirt and it was just a simple compliment, but still, it feels really good to be called that every once in a while.

you laughed awkwardly, unsure of how to react.

"you should hang out with me sometime." he said, pulling out his phone and casually handing it to you.

you hesitated, staring at the device in his hands.

then he gave you that look, soft, expectant puppy eyes. it was unfair.

you swear handsome boys might just be your weakness.

"...okay." you smiled, typing in your number.

now here you were, standing beside jake, looking all shy as he introduced you to the rest of their friend group.

you felt nervous, not because you weren't used to meeting new people but because these weren't just any people. these are THE people. heesung, jay, sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon and ni-ki...

and judging by their curious smiles, you thought that they might be trying to figure out why jake, of all people, had chosen you.

i mean, he asked you out, he kept texting you, and not to mention, he's literally perfect... who are you to say no?

"my girlfriend, y/n." jake said smoothly and laughed shyly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

ni-ki barely heard the chorus of surprised "oohs" and teasing from the others because all he could do was to focus on you... how your cheeks turned red, how you avoided his eyes, and how you nervously fiddled with the hem of your sleeve.

since when?

since when did you start dating someone and why the hell was it jake?

"wait, i feel like i've heard that name before…"

jake nodded, "yeah, probably from ni-ki 'cause they're classmates."

"oh, that's right!"

you glanced at ni-ki, who's unusually quiet. he just stood there, staring at you and jake.

he smiled weakly and nodded at everyone.

he looked down, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away.

ni-ki didn't talk to you for days.

you weren't one to approach people first, and now you have a boyfriend… but ni-ki your friend. you should at least check up on him, right?

you: hey, how are you?

no reply.

he wouldn't look at you, wouldn't say hi, and wouldn't acknowledge you at all.

plus you were too shy to push it further.

is he upset?

you sighed, the ache in your ribs refusing to go away, it pressed against your lungs, making it hard to breathe.

you pulled one hand out and rubbed your chest, fingers pressing over your heart like that would somehow ease the strange, suffocating feeling inside.

today after class, you stood by your locker, stuffing books into your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder but you chose to ignore it.

another tap.

you exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes but can't help to smile a little bit. you didn't even have to turn around to know who it was, you guessed he probably stopped acting nonchalant.

another tap.

"ni-ki!" you said excitingly, but instead of ni-ki, you found yourself staring at your wide-eyed classmate holding out your pencil case.

"you- you left this in class!" he stammered before shoving it into your hands then ran away.

the hallway got dead silent. dozens of eyes were staring at you, some students whispering, and others were just staring.

your stomach dropped and then, just when you thought the situation couldn't get worse, you caught sight of ni-ki who had stopped in his tracks after hearing his name from your mouth. he's just a few feet away, staring at you awkwardly.

a confused look appeared across his face for a second. then he scoffed, smiling widely before walking away.

you closed your eyes and swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around your pencil case. you shook your head and lightly bashed your head into your locker. "that's so embarrassing..."

later, you were staring at everyone's pictures stuck to the fridge.

you were just waiting for jake to finish getting dressed, when someone opened fridge door beside you, nearly making you jump.

ni-ki.

he didn't acknowledge you, he just grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open, like you weren't even standing right there.

you pouted. he's so rude.

and when you turned to look at him again, you realized he was already watching you, even as he lifted the bottle to his lips.

your heart skipped then you quickly looked away, suddenly feeling nervous.

he smirked and before you could even process it, he was already stepping closer.

"hey…" you greeted, still nervous.

ni-ki then leaned in tilting his head before he kissing you slow and passionate as if he was savoring you. his lips were cold from the water, but he tasted so good, it's so right.

when he pulled away, the sound of your lips parting was loud, sexy, and intimate.

then you looked at his eyes, you started panting.

you panicked at the sound of footsteps approaching. you shoved ni-ki away, your face burning as you ran outside.

he watched you disappear with an amused smirk on his lips.

he turned back to the fridge just as jake walked in.

"where's y/n?" jake asked, adjusting his watch.

ni-ki grabbed another bottle of water and popped the cap off before shrugging, "i don't know."

you avoided everyone after that.

it was wrong. all wrong.

why did he do it?

and it's also wrong that you're thinking about it while on a karaoke date with your boyfriend.

"jake, i have to tell you something…"

he smiled. "hold on, i gotta sing this."

then started singing while looking at you, his voice warm and full of energy. he was so sweet, it made you want to cry.

it's always fun with him.

and on the way home, jake couldn't stop talking to you in English, excitedly rambling about random things. "i like that i have someone like you who i could talk to about this." he said, joked that he was tired of speaking with his friends.

you laughed softly. "well, i'm happy to listen."

jake smiled before tilting his head. "is it true? i remember ni-ki saying something like you don't like anyone touching you?"

you heart raced hearing his name but you forced yourself to stay calm.

"no, not really." you replied. "but it's not that i don't like it. i guess i just like it better when i'm really comfortable with someone."

jake stopped walking and stared at you. "look at you…"

you blinked. "huh?"

"you're already opening up to me."

you chuckled after feeling the warmth in his voice then he reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

you smiled weakly.

"i gotta warn you," he grinned. "i'm really clingy."

then you laughed, letting yourself be in this moment with him that you actually forgot about what happened with you and ni-ki.

you were hanging out with everyone but you only had your eyes on jake. you were laughing weakly, hands tracing his arm as you leaned into him. his touch was warm, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

ni-ki sat quietly across the room, watching. his jaw was getting tighter the longer he observe.

he had been patient, biting his tongue, but when you nearly stumbled forward in your drunken state, only for Jake to catch you with an amused chuckle, ni-ki finally had enough.

"hyung," he said abruptly, standing from his seat. "she needs to go home."

you blinked, your laughter fading as you turned to look at him and alcohol made it hard to focus but you still managed to send him a hazy glare, eyes narrowing.

jake frowned as he glanced at ni-ki. "oh, is that so?" he raised a brow, clearly entertained by ni-ki's sudden concern.

ni-ki didn't back down, he wasn't playing games. "yeah." he said, his tone unwavering. "she's too drunk."

jake gave him a confused look. you're with him, your boyfriend. so what?

"hey, woman. should i tell your mom you're drinking?" ni-ki asked you.

then jake chuckled, brushing his fingers soothingly over your back. "okay," he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. "i'll come see you tomorrow, alright?"

ni-ki exhaled through his nose, stepping forward as if ready to take you himself. jake noticed but didn't react, only smiling softly as he helped you up.

and since he's too drunk as well, he asked ni-ki for help.

he held your arm carefully. "take care of my girl." he said lightly, as if provoking ni-ki.

but ni-ki didn't respond, he just led you forward. he sighed, adjusting his grip on you as you swayed slightly against him.

it was cold outside so you were practically glued to him, your fingers clutching at his sleeve because if felt like you'd float away if you let go.

why did jake let you drink this much?

"ni-ki..." you called out, "kiss me again." you said suddenly, soft but insistent.

ni-ki stiffened, halting for a moment. his grip on your arm tightened as he let out a slow breath. "you're drunk," he muttered.

"i can't stop thinking about it..." you admitted, stopping in your tracks and looking up at him with big, glossy eyes.

he clenched his jaw, clearly fighting himself. "you'll never ask or tell me that when you're sober, right?" he smiled.

you giggled, leaning closer, swaying again. "because i'm smart when i'm sober."

ni-ki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "right. and you're real dumb right now, huh?"

and instead of answering, you grabbed at his sleeve again, tugging like a stubborn child. He groaned, clearly exasperated, but there was no real bite to it.

"stop moving so much," he muttered.

but you just pouted at him. "kiss me," you whined, repeating your words.

ni-ki let out a long sigh, like he was actually debating whether to listen to you or throw you over his shoulder and carry you home.

but he gave in, leaning down and pressing a long, firm kiss to your forehead.

you wanted it on the lips but you immediately melted, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around his waist. his arms came around you too, pulling you in even closer.

next day in class, you were back to being yourself again, as if you hadn't been all cheeky, clingy, and asking ni-ki for a kiss last night.

he leaned back in his chair, watching you from across the room as you quietly wrote in your notebook, acting like nothing had happened.

he got up, grabbed a chair, and dragged it beside your desk, resting his head on the surface. "why are you still here?" he asked.

"i'm waiting for jake." you answered simply, not looking up.

ni-ki rolled his eyes before he pulled out his phone and texted jake.

ni-ki: she's waiting for you.

jake: omg, i forgot. my head still hurts.

clicking his tongue, ni-ki set his phone down and looked at you. you were still writing, completely unaware. "you look dumb."

you laughed it off, brushing off his bluntness like you always did.

"do you wanna go to our house? he's there."

you paused before finally looking up at him. "he's… not coming, is he?"

ni-ki nodded. "sorry."

you shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. "it's fine. not your fault. i've got things to do anyway."

he reached out and gave you a quick pat on the head. you blinked up at him in surprise.

"let's eat then i'll walk you home."

"huh?" you hesitated, blinking up at him.

he laughed. "you're gonna sit here all day looking dumb?"

you glared at him. "i said i have things to do."

ni-ki raised an eyebrow. "yeah? like what?"

you opened your mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with anything convincing.

"come on. let's go."

you pretended to think about it for a moment before finally standing up. "fine." you said, grabbing your things.

later that night, as you lay in your bed, your phone rang with an incoming call. it's jake.

"hello?"

"did you get home safely?" he asked, yawning because he just woke up.

you sighed softly. "yeah, ni-ki walked me home."

there was a pause before jake let out a small scoff. "ni-ki… that kid…"

you frowned. "what?"

"he's not gonna take you away from me, right?"

your eyes widened slightly. "that's ridiculous..." you muttered, your voice quieter than you expected.

jake hummed. "i should confront him."

"wha-"

"i'm kidding, i love that guy..." he laughed. he added, "i miss you..."

you rolled onto your side. "i wish that was true."

jake laughed again, a little softer this time. "of course it's true. i'll make it up to you, i gotta go now."

you chuckled. "okay, bye."

he hung up, leaving you staring at your screen.

he's not gonna take you away from me, right?

you pulled out your phone and typed a message.

you: i should thank you.

ni-ki: hell yeah.

ni-ki: jk, it's good :p

you smiled, shaking your head.

you: you want coffee or something?

ni-ki: what's the something?

you: anything you want.

then moment passed before he responded.

ni-ki: bet. see you.

you stared at your screen for a while, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before you sighed, locking your phone.

and when you and ni-ki were finally alone, he quickly shut the door behind him, locking it with a soft click.

you watched as he took off his jacket, tossing it aside. you gulped, "so- so… do you want something?" you asked, your chest rising and falling with excitement and anticipation as he slowly walked closer.

"yeah, i want this…" he panted, cupping your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours.

you gasped against his mouth, your hands gripping onto his arms as you kissed him back. the familiar warmth of him, the way he tasted, the way he held you, it made your stomach flutter.

"i miss you, ni-ki." you murmured between kisses, barely pulling away before diving back in.

then he smiled against your lips. "i miss you too." he whispered, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. "you should say that more." he added.

you moaned softly in response, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeves.

this was so wrong.

your body was longing for ni-ki.

his hands began to wander as he pressed his body on top of yours, you could feel how much he wanted you with the evidence of his arousal hard against your thigh.

"ni-ki," you whimpered, tilting your head as his lips trailed down your neck. he nipped and sucked, but not enough to leave marks.

"we shouldn't..."

"we- we shouldn't." he repeated, continuing his kisses on your skin as his hips began to grind against yours. the pleasure in the friction made you roll your eyes, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

ni-ki's hands slid down to your ass, giving it a squeeze as he picked up the pace. you bit your lip to hold back a moan while feeling yourself growing wet already.

it felt so good, his strong body pinning you down.

"i want you," he panted, the movement of his hips were stuttering.

you nodded breathlessly, too far gone to protest.

he lifted you up slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist which you did so eagerly, the new position allowing him to grind harder against your clothed cunt.

his thick bulge rubbed against you with each roll of his hips, you squeezed your eyes shut, really overwhelmed by sensation.

you were both groaning, moaning, and panting now, completely lost in the heat of the moment. his lips found yours again and you gave him sloppy kisses.

all thoughts of wrongdoing were forgotten because it was replaced by the all-consuming need to have ni-ki closer.

ni-ki adjusted his grip, one hand sliding between your bodies to palm at his straining erection through his pants. he groaned on his own touch, bucking into his hand.

"i'm gonna cum like this."

"hmm, i can't wait." he replied, kissing you.

your hips rolled shamelessly against him as you feel the pressure building, very tight in your core.

he was really going to make you cum just from this. just from dry humping him.

"ni-ki," you called out his name, fingers clutching at his shoulders. "i'm gonna-"

he panted, picking up the pace then he quickly slid his fingers in your underwear and started moving his hand skillfully.

"cum, y/n... i wanna feel you." his words pushed you over the edge and you came with a silent scream, convulsing in his arms, creaming all over his hands and you could feel the wet heat of it, soaking through the fabric of your pants.

for a moment, you just clung to him, coming down from your high.

then ni-ki had to go to the bathroom for a good five minutes. probably jerked off because he came out with a tired arm.

you both avoided his eyes, the reality of what you'd just done sinking in but ni-ki didn't seem to care, he pulled you close and kissed your forehead.

then you tried. you really did.

you rehearsed it in your head a dozen times, thinking of every possible way to say it. to tell jake the truth about you and ni-ki, about what's been happening.

but every time you tried, jake never gave you the chance.

you took a deep breath, gripping the hem of your sweater while sitting beside him.

you swallowed. just say it.

"jake, i need to talk to you about something." you started, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded.

he would interrupt you before you could even get another word out. asking about what to call each other, "do you prefer love? baby?"

"jake-"

his hands trailed up and down your sides, "ugh, it's been so busy lately, it’s driving me crazy."

your heart clenched.

"you love me, right?"

"what?"

he pulled back to look at you, his eyes full of affection, it's making you feel so guilty you thought you might drown in it. "you love me," he repeated, more certain this time. "so whatever it is you're stressing about, it doesn't matter. we're good."

the courage to tell him was gone.

but ni-ki could tell something was off, jake was being distant.

they're really close, so he noticed right away how jake would leave the moment he would join them and how he barely acknowledged him. it wasn't obvious to everyone else, but ni-ki could tell.

though others noticed jake acting strange too but they brushed it off, not thinking too much about it.

does he know?

ni-ki's chest tightened at the thought.

he might be an adult now, taller than most of them, stronger even but these were still his friends, his brothers and despite everything, he still felt scared sometimes.

fuck.

the house was loud. music, laughters, banters and clatters of bottles as they knocked against the table.

some of the guys were already wasted, slurring their words, and their voices were overlapping each others as they rambled about the dumbest things.

jake is really really drunk, his head was already resting against the couch but still grinning as he took another drink.

somehow everyone ended up talking about relationships, sharing stories, teasing each other about past flings, you know, the usual drunk banter.

"bro, i mean..." he started, voice slightly slurred but still clear enough for everyone to hear, "fucking your friend's girl behind their back is really crazy, right?"

the room fell silent.

whatever's happening, all of it died instantly. everyone exchanged glances, awkwardly moving in their seats.

"why- what are you even saying?" Heesung laughed, his eyes were darting around the room as if trying to gauge the situation.

jake let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "i'm just kidding!" he grinned, waving his hand dismissively.

the others forced out laughs too, brushing it off as another one of jake's drunken jokes but some were annoyed that he had to kill the vibe.

then the conversation slowly picked back up, though the energy wasn't quite the same.

ni-ki didn't laugh. he didn't even move.

and when jake and ni-ki were the only ones left in the kitchen.

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before finally speaking. "hyung…"

jake scoffed, not even sparing him a glance. "what do you want, asshole?"

ni-ki clenched his jaw. jake's mad and he wanted to be mad too, he wants to throw something, to say something that would make jake lash out at him just so they could get this over with.

"i'm sorry." he said, all he could say.

jake let out a cold laugh. "keep that sorry and don't talk to me."

ni-ki swallowed, staring at him, searching for something. jake didn't look drunk anymore. he looked sharp and clear-headed like he had been waiting for this moment.

"you know i liked her first, right?" ni-ki said quietly.

jake went silent.

and yeah, he knew. he had known before even meeting you. before anything had even started.

but he only smirked. "i guess you're too slow, ni-ki." he said, adding, "she's not leaving me so you should probably leave her alone."

"i can't."

jake knew. he knew what happened in this kitchen, he saw the way you looked at ni-ki when you thought no one was watching, he also knew what you've been trying to tell him and the truth was, he thought he didn't mind because he also loves ni-ki.

he believed and hoped that maybe you'd grow to love him the same way but i guess it's exhausting, and it's gonna hurt all of you if he let it continue.

"fuck you." he walked away, leaving ni-ki standing right there with his heart pounding and his head spinning.

jake was lying on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your waist as you absentmindedly played with his hair.

he was talking about something, probably one of his usual dumb stories where you wouldn't stop laughing.

"that's so stupid." you giggled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

he is stupid, cuddling, laying on his cheating girlfriend's chest...

jake started propping himself up, his eyes met yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

it was the first time he had ever truly kissed you. "jake?"

he didn't answer. his lips trailed down, pressing aggressive kisses to your neck, his grip on your waist tightening.

"j- jake…" you said as you tried to pull away.

"is this how ni-ki does it?"

your entire body tensed.

you pushed him slightly, sitting up with your heart hammering through your chest.

jake scoffed, he was angry, frustrated and... hurt. he leaned in to kiss you again.

and when he felt you weren't kissing him back, he pulled away with a quiet sigh.

"what did i do to deserve this?" he asked you.

you swallowed hard, tears forming in your eyes. "nothing. you did nothing…"

he forced a small smile and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. "sorry, y/n. i-"

you grabbed his hand, holding it tightly while tears slipping past your lashes. "no, i'm sorry..."

you didn't know what else to say. jake hugged you.

maybe it was your fault for saying yes in the first place and for letting things get this far despite loving ni-ki.

maybe it was ni-ki's fault for being a coward and only realizing what he wanted after he saw you in someone else's arms.

or maybe it was jake's own fault for falling for you despite knowing his friend had already set his heart on you.

he hugged you tighter, afraid that if he let go, you'd slip away completely.

jake took you somewhere, a quiet place with a beautiful view where you talked, you laughed, and where things felt okay.

then ni-ki showed up.

"hyung?" ni-ki called out, his voice was uncertain and despite calling his friend, his eyes locked with yours.

jake sighed, patting ni-ki's back with a chuckle. "you're so late."

"hyung…"

"it's okay, idiot. you go get her." he said, adding. "i'll leave you two."

ni-ki sat on the edge of the bench, his hands were resting on your waist as you stood between his legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

he looked at you, unsure. "y- you're mine now, right?"

you nodded without hesitation.

relief washed over his face and he let out a quiet breath before resting his forehead against your shoulder. "ni-ki,"

he hummed.

"sorry for letting you go through that situation." you apologized.

ni-ki leaned back to look at you, "sorry too…" he cupped your cheek, tilting your face slightly before giving you a kiss. and when he pulled back, he brushed your hair away from your face. ni-ki stared for a moment, taking you in, your eyes, your lips, the way you looked at him now compared to before.

you ducked your head and buried your face in his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him again because you felt suddenly shy.

ni-ki chuckled at your reaction, his hands sliding around your back to hold you even closer.

he was already mentally preparing himself to be the other guy. like, really ready to sneak around and everything but luckily, jake is smart.

"you know," he laughed, "i figured i would have to be all stealthy, careful and sneaking out the back door but he figured it out right away." he said, joking.

you groaned in disbelief, burying your face in your hands.

"oh my god..."

a/n: ni-ki is a snake T T and i hate you here. this was painful (cause i don't want to hurt jake) but fun to write. i didn't go crazy with the smut, still, i hope you'll like it <3

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Crushing On The Nerdy Guy At Work 2.0

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Synopsis: You finally got your wish and spent the night with the adorably awkward tech genius. Too bad he thinks you used him and no longer trusts you because of it. Even worse, you two still work together.

Tags: NSFW, characters are in their twenties, coworkers to lovers, oposites attract, nerd/popular, she fell first, virgin hero, first time, one-sided pining (reader has a massive crush on Tim), Angst, betrayal, protective Tim, batfam, love confessions, drunk confessions,

TW: stalking (by an oc) - Tim handles it.

After clocking out, Tim met Jason at a bar. The two planned to grab dinner before patrol.

The place was loud, busy, and packed with people out for happy hour, but Tim wasn't worried, especially when the waitress placed his burger in front of him.

Munching on a fry, Jason leaned back against his booth and gave a soft whistle. "Damn, look at that one."

Tim glanced up and did a double take.

You sat with some of your coworkers at a booth nearby, engaged in an animated conversation.

Tim began to regret suggesting a place so close to work, but he was starving after having forgotten to eat lunch again, so he sent Jason the location without thinking twice.

The same outfit you wore to work - a preppy skirt, knee-high boots, and a white cardigan - made you look soft and feminine among the suits and jackets at the establishment. His eyes lingered on you as you were deep in conversation with Rose and another team member. The same two who were gossiping about yourself and Tim the other day when he found out you'd kissed him on a dare.

Perfectly manicured hands wrapped around a martini glass as you raised it to your red lips. You looked like you belonged on the cover of the fashion magazine. He's seen you read so often... "Vague" or something.

Rose clocked him first. She mouthed something to you that made you pause. Then you turned and locked eyes with him across the room.

Tim tore his gaze away. "She’s my coworker." he told Jason

Jason smirked, popping another french fry into his mouth. "Your coworker just looked at you like you were dessert."

"No she didn't-"

You cleared your throat behind him, making both of the men turn around to face you. At some point, you had made your way over to the booth.

The man sitting next to Tim leaned back in his seat, watching you with amusement.

Ignoring him, you spoke. "Hey, Tim…"

"Hey," Tim gave you a tight-lipped smile, before gesturing to his companion. "Um, this is my brother, Jason. Jason, Y/N."

"Hey, Y/N…" Jason gave you a long once-over. You would have noticed if you weren’t so laser-focused on your co-worker.

"Hi," you waved to Jason mindlessly, still looking at Tim. "So…" Trying to look nonchalant, you flipped your hair in a signature move that usually garnered you mouthwatering looks. "How was your day?"

Damn it! What was it about him that made you act so... childish?

Tim's answer was stiff, guarded. "Busy."

You hated that he still thought you’d betrayed him. It wasn't fair, and he didn't even give you the chance to explain how you truly felt! You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. "Do you… maybe want to get coffee sometime?"

Rose and Violet, who have slowly made their way over to you with their belongings in hand, were now giving you funny sideways glances.

Oh, please, you thought, like they’ve never been down bad before.

Tim’s perpetually analytical blue eyes studied yours behind smudged lenses of his glasses. "My schedule’s tight."

Wow. He really didn't wanna talk to you.

Disappointed, you huffedan half-hearted, "Forget it." Before retreating.

Behind you, Rose not-so-subtly slipped Jason a note, mouthing the words "Call me" before turning to Tim. "Genius boy, I don't know what you're going through but hurry up and snap out of it. Steven, from Legal, asked her out today." Her tone was at the same time playful yet serious. Without further information, she turned and followed you out.

After you girls left, Jason turned to his little brother, grinning. "You’re the dumbest man I’ve ever met."

Tim scowled through a mouthful of burger. He muffled out a, "What?"

Jason gestured toward your retreating figure. "She’s a goddamn ten, Timmy, foaming at the mouth through her chanel lipstick for you."

Tim didn't want to correct his brother that the lipstic he's usually seen you wear was called "Dior." Instead, he said, "You don’t know what your-"

"Timmy," Jason shook his head. "She was practically kneeling at your feet ready to give you head right here and now-"

"Jason!" Tim looked around nervously, hoping no one heard his brother. "She only kissed me because of a dare."

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, shit. I didn't know that! So you got moves!" He clapped Tim on the shoulder.

"I dont 'got anything'". Tim shrugged, not feeling nearly as smug as someone in his position typically would. "But, we… yeah. I dont know."

"Oh, scored?"

"Jay-" Tim rubbed the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, his brother could be so vulgar.

Jason immediately smacked Tim upside the head. "So?"

Tim glared, rubbing his temple. "So nothing! It wasn’t real. I told you, it was just a dumb game for her.”

"Oh god, this is so fucking high school." Jason snorted. “Let me get this straight. She was dared to kiss you. Not to spend the night, right?"

"... as far as we know."

"Not to look at you like you the way she just did. Like you hung the fucking moon, right?"

Tim swallowed hard, taking another bite of his burger. "I... I guess."

Jason shook his head, bringing his beer to his lips. "You're so stupid..."

As he went on, Tim considered the facts.

It had only been a few days since he learned about the dare that led to your night together. It was easier to be mad at you, but really, he was mad at himself.

You were gorgeous, constantly surrounded by friends and admirers, while he was a loner. A nerd who preferred the company of gadgets and puzzles to that of real people (save for his family).

The nerd only got the prom queen in movies. Tim hated that he had let himself be fooled. He had just been a joke to you. That was it.

Damian’s fist collided with his face before Tim had the chance to react. The punch was sharp, sending the third Robin reeling back before he regained his balance. "Ow!"

"Oh, I’m sorry," his younger brother drawled, feigning concern. "I was under the impression we were sparring."

Tim wiped at the blood seeping from his lip. "We are, brat."

"One of us is," Damian muttered. "Stand ready, Drake."

"Can’t. I have to be at the office in ten minutes," Tim grumbled, stepping off the mat and wiping his sweat off with his shirt. In the window his saw his reflection. He needed to stop forgetting his meals. His stomach was beginning to look flat, save for muscle - it didn't look healthy. Then his eyes landed on his reflections mouth, stained in blood. "And now I have a flashy new injury to explain to everyone who asks."

"Next time, dodge." Damian shrugged, not hiding his amusement. "And I saw your calendar. You don’t start work until nine today."

Tim raised a brow. "...Did you hack my phone?"

"I’ve been practicing. Your lessons paid off." Damian looked proud of himself, tilting his head. "Speaking of, manicure at seven-thirty today? Really?"

Tim didn’t even blink. "Did you see that I’m also taking part in a pie-eating competition this Sunday?"

"Oh yeah." Damian snickered. Still not catching onto what Tim was hinting at.

"Hm, what about my Wonder Woman fanfic collection?" Tim trued again, leading him on.

"Hey, everyone’s into something." Damian shrugged. "At least it’s not some weird shit."

"You're a little slow today, kiddo." Tim tapped his head with his index finger, grinning. "That’s not my account you hacked."

Damian’s smirk faltered. "...What?"

Growing up with Batman, Tim had taken precautions long ago to redirect any hacking attempts to lead to the account of another Timothy Drake - a forty-year-old, blue collar father of two from Middletown, Ohio. No one in his family knew anything about his personal life - except Alfred. He trusted that man with everything.

"Anyway, I gotta go." Tim patted Damian’s shoulder. "Enjoy stalking a middle-aged man from Ohio."

"Damn it, Drake!" Damian growled. "Thats disgusting!"

"Hey, everyone’s into something." Tim echoed his brother’s earlier words before shutting the door behind him.

"No." Tim’s response was clipped as his leg began its usual anxious bounce. The the untied lace of his sneakers brushed against the floor of Commissioner Gordon’s office.

"Funny," Jim Gordon chuckled behind his coffee mug. "You seem to think that was a question. Let me make myself clear - it wasn’t. This is the bust of the decade! You’re doing the damn press conference."

"Commissioner - " Tim ran his hands through his hair, already feeling his nerves spike. "You don’t want - "

"What happened to your lip?" Gordon interrupted eyeing the fresh cut.

Tim self-consciously ran his finger over the cut from Damian. "I fell."

"Again?"

Tim wasn’t stupid. He was top of his class in the academy, and Gordon knew perfectly well he was capable of defending himself. Right now, Gordon was trying to change the subject. "Sir, you really don’t want me babbling into a mic in front of a crowd of journalists."

"Theres nothing i want more." Gordon smirked. "I find the idea to be well-deserved. You solved the riddle, son, you caught the Phantom. Gotham deserves to know who saved her. Better iron out that shirt and get a clean shave, because you’re going to be on camera tomorrow."

"But-" Tim swallowed, getting his points in order. "What if I mess up and disclose something I shouldn’t - confidential information!"

"That’s why we have a PR associate," Gordon said, raising a brow. "In fact, she should be waiting for you in the conference room right about now."

Oh no. As if he hadn’t been humiliated enough lately. Now you were going to watch him sweat through his clothes and trip over himself during press conferences? "I have my daily scrum in ten minutes." Was his final attempt.

"You’re excused." Gordon took another sip of his coffee. "Your scrum was with me anyway. And I already know your schedule."

Tim was out of arguments. "Yes, sir."

On the way to the conference room, he was stopped by Stanley, the department’s IT manager.

"Drake, can I borrow you for on-call?"

“Sorry, Stan, now’s a bad time.” Tim brushed past him, then paused. "And once again, I’m not IT."

"I know!" Stanley groaned. “But we’re swamped with tickets, and you’re the best with computers! Steven from Legal just downloaded a virus - it’s probably a quick fix."

Tim rolled his eyes. If he had a dime…

"Look," he began. "I have a meeting in five-"

Then he saw it. Tim narrowed his eyes to look over Stan's shoulder.

Steven from Legal was leaning against the wall of your cubicle, making major googly eyes at you.

You sat there, effortlessly put together as always. Plaid skirt hugging your waist, crisp white blouse tucked in neatly beneath a fitted blazer, knee-high boots that made your legs look unfairly long. And a damn bow in your hair. Delicate. Feminine. Perfect. Tim hated how it made his stomach twist.

Steven from legal reached up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and you flinched at the sudden movement.

Tim clenched his teeth. He didn't like this. The young detective cleared his throat. "Yeah, I’ll help Steve."

Stan grinned. "Oh, thank you, man! You’re a godsend-"

Tim was already walking past him.

After begrudgingly fixing Steven from legal's computer, Tim arrived at his first media training session, dreading being on camera.

You entered a minute after he did, balancing your laptop in one hand and a coffee in the other.

"Good morning," you greeted in an unsure tone as you took your seat across from him.

Tim pushed up his glasses and folded his arms. "Morning."

You slid a neatly organized, color-coded packet across the table. "I prepared a media package for you over the weekend. It was approved by the Commissioner. It includes a script that should make it easy for you to answer most questions."

Tim skimmed through the pages, raising a brow at how meticulous it was. He thrived in chaos while you, he learned, thrived in order. A smirk threatened to break out when he saw you align your pen to your notebook. The smirk faltered when a thought came to mind. "Was the press conference your idea?"

"...what?" You blinked.

"The press conference." Tim gestured around the two of you. "Was this your way of getting me alone so that we could talk?"

Your expression changed into that of disbelief. You felt your teeth clench and nostrils flare as you huffed. "Press conferences are a routine procedure after any worthy development occurs in any government sector. No, I did not orchestrate a media frenzy to trap you into spending time with me, Tim. Were both doing our jobs."

Swallowing. Tim cast his gaze down, feeling like a bad student in trouble with a teacher. "Youre right. I'm sorry."

"Its fine." Luckily, you dropped the subject. "In the next few hours, we’ll go over wardrobe and behavior," you continued. "Keep your answers short and to the point. No rambling."

Tim scoffed. "I don’t ramble."

You arched a perfectly styled brow.

His jaw tightened. "…Fine."

He was in your world now. Public speaking was hard. Terrifying. But you had good tips and feedback, and he found himself growing less and less nervous with each question he practiced, having memorized your script helped out tremendously.

And you were all business - professional, not flirty like he was used to. It threw him off at first, but even through his bitterness, he found himself impressed.

You also kept to a strict schedule, so the days you two spent leading up to the conference you ate together - which resulted in him never skipping meals. He liked what he saw in the mirror. He was still lean and on the thinner side, but he'd bulked up a bit.

You, meanwhile, tried to stay professional, but Tim was making it hard.

His sleeves were always rolled up just enough to show the lean muscle of his forearms, veins visible when he typed, wrote, or did something with his hands. His posture had changed too - broader, more confident because of your lessons, less of the lanky boy you remembered.

He was still always adjusting his glasses - pushing them up his nose with his index finger - and you were way too aware of how that same finger gripped your wrists only a week ago. When he looked at you, even briefly mid-conversation, those gorgeous ocean eyes felt like a magnifying glass boring into your soul.

You cleared your throat. "Tim, remember to keep your hands still when speaking-"

"Yeah. Got it."

Short, clipped. But his voice was deep. He was just speaking, trying his best to work together, but his low rasp reminded you of the way he whispered, "Does that feel good?" In your ear a mere few nights ago.

And the worst part? He had a five o’clock shadow now. That jawline, a little rougher, made you ache to feel it against your skin.

Tim was already so goddamned irresistible to you. Close proximity tested your sanity, and you were afraid you were failing.

"Detective Drake, Tamara Lane from the Gotham Gazette." One of the journalists raised her mic to him. "Are the rumors true that you and your PR associate are dating?"

The room fell silent.

Tim froze.

You gripped your phone nervously behind the stage.

Tim blinked once. Then, with an arched brow, he leaned toward the mic. "Since when does the Gotham Gazette run a gossip column?"

The room burst with chuckles, tension easing. But you caught the way his jaw tightened. The way his fingers twitched at his sides.

"First of all," Tim continued, straightening, "I’m here to talk about the Phantom case and trial. If you have any questions about that, I’ll happily answer. But don’t waste everyone’s time with melodrama, please. No, we are not dating.” He finished, choosing not to chastize the journalists further.

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have today." The moderator spoke into her mic. "Thank you detective. The city owes you."

Tim shook his head. "Thank you, but the city owes me nothing. As one of Gothams citizens, I was doing my responsibility to the same streets I grew up in."

That got him a room full of claps. You were so proud. He handled it like a pro. Physical distance was a killer when all you wanted was to run over there and praise him for doing a good job.

"So y/n," An aggressive male journalist made a few steps towards you, invading your personal space. "That bite on Drake’s lip. That your doing?" He winked, backing you against a wall.

"I - " You felt yourself stumble, the tension knotting your stomach. "No, it's not. Can you please back up, Darren?"

This wasnt your first time meeting him. Darren was a tool back in college, when you were both in the journalism program. More than once that he'd attributed your success to your looks alone, with not so subtle implications that you had slept your way to the top.

You were hoping that leaving your previous big shot corporation and getting a job in public services would get him off your back. It didnt.

"Sure can, gorgeous." Darren smirked. "Just as soon as you tell me it was you who gave him that love bite - "

"That's close enough." Tim was there in an instant. His hand shot out, shoving Darren back effortlessly while pulling you behind him, his grip firm, but careful on your arm. You let out a sigh of relief, squeezing his hand in gratitude as the nosey journalist shrank back.

Tim turned to you, eyes searching for any sign of distress. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

You were still clearly shaken. He eyed you for a moment, as if waiting for you to contradict yourself.

That's when a thought had occurred to him. You were a beautiful girl, never lacking male attention and always having your fair selection of admirers. But...

But how much of that attention was actually wanted?

Right now, you looked extremely uncomfortable. If the women in his life were faced with such behavior, Tim pondered. If Barbara, Steph, or Cassie were backed into a corner by a man they'd take one clean punch to knock the guy's lights out.

But you weren't like his sisters. You were all smiles and sweetness. You were innocent... vulnerable.

The thought made something stir within him... his fists clenched at his sides as he turned to glare at the retreating journalist.

He and you addressed each other by name. This wasn't your first time meeting.

It took five minutes to bypass Darren's security and get root access to his computer - where Tim found a disturbing amount of pictures of you. Some were with your higher-ups, others with professors, TAs, all taken without your knowledge.

Tim cringed reading the notes Darren had attached to each one - sexualizing and objectifying you to justify your successes in life.

Tim made quick work of adding screenshits to a secure folder, which he sent anonymously to Dick's work email.

Tim’s phone chimed in under a minute. Dick’s name flashing on screen on the wayne family's private texting platform. "Timmy, You should be asleep on your night off."

Tim couldn't help but grin as he typed back. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else sends anonymous emails containing incriminating evidence At 3 in the morning?"

Tim glanced at his watch, confirming he's really been up that late.

"Touche" he wrote back.

"Whose this creep?"

"Some guy who's been harassing a-" he paused, before typing. "-friend at work."

"Jesus, christ there's so many files."

"Tell me about it. Need my help with anything?"

"Nah, I'll get a permit and look into it."

"Great,"

Before finishing up, Tim made sure to leave Darren a clear message his screen so that when he opened his laptop the next day, he'd be met with the words: "Journalism is not the same as stalking. Learn the difference, asshole." Capitalized on his desktop wallpaper.

5 Months Later

"Hey!" Tim picked up your call after the first ring.

You shivered outside the nightclub in nothing but your dress (that looked more like a nightgown as your roommate said) and puffy jacket. You were out with your roommate again, but a few glasses of wine told you it was a good idea to call him.

Holding the phone to your mouth, you spoke. "I have something to say to you, Tim Drake.”

His voice shook as he said. "... Okay?" As if he was laughing.

"Just... dont hang up." You took a deep breath. "I need you to hear this."

"Go ahead," you heard laughter on the other end of the call.

"I LIKE YOU. TIM DRAKE." You yelled into your phone. "I have liked you for a LONG time. Way before rose and the dare and the bar. And because I am an idiot, I screwed it up -"

"Where are you?"

"You promised you wouldn't interrupt!" You accused.

"I said no such thing, sweetheart. Where are you?" He insisted. "You're definitely drunk and shouldn't be alone right now."

"Im just fine, thankyouverymuch!" You slurred. "And I don't - *hiccup* - wanna be seen in the state im in right now... especially by you. Anyway, can you focus?"

You then proceeded to list every tiny thing you’ve noticed about him over the months of knowing him: "I like how you get so into work that you forget to eat, even though it drives me crazy."

"And I like that you’re so damn smart, but you can’t take a compliment to save your life." You snickered as you spoke.

"I like that you don’t realize how many people actually admire you.”

"…And I like that you kissed me back that night, even though you were surprised."

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat beside you.

You turned to look who it was, and your eyes landed on him. Your mouth dropped, and you blinked at him blankly. You were in disbelief. Had you manifested him out of thin air?

After placing his jacket around you, Tim crossed his arms, watching you intently as you fidgetted under his gaze as he waited for you to continue. His blue eyes crincled at the sides with barely suppressed laughter. They seemed to say, "You wanted to do this, so do it."

"I..." You took a deep breath, still not believing he was here. "... Okay, I’m just gonna say it."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"That night we spent together? I wasn’t faking anything." You shifted, suddenly feeling very warm. "I mean, you were just... so good. Like, ridiculously good."

Tim blinked, pursing his lips and looking like he was trying hard not to laugh.

You continued in a rush, "And not just in a ‘this guy knows what he’s doing’ type of way, but in a ‘no one has ever made me feel like that’ way, and it’s been messing with my head because now every time I see you, I just-" You cut yourself off, mortified. Why are you saying all of this? Oh, right, the wine.

Tim stared at you. Processing. Then, very slowly, he smirked, taking a step closer. "… you haven’t stopped thinking about it, huh?"

Shivering, you made a strangled noise. "I-That’s not the point!"

"No, no, I think it is." His smirk grew, and he stepped closer still, pulling you into his arms. You welcomed the warmth of his body, feeling small in his big frame. He exhuded a sudden confidence you hadn't seen in him before when he said, "Go on, prom queen. Elaborate."

You groan, covering your face. "I hate you."

"Do you?"

"Whatever." You suddenly lost confidence, facing away from him. "That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say."

You turned to go step back, but Tim grabbed your waist, pulled you back toward him, and kissed you breathless. "I like you too, prom queen. Now I need you to answer an important question."

You gasped against his lips, feeling elated that he had basically confessed he liked you back. Your breath hitched when you said. "Anything."

He smiled down at you. "How many drinks did you have before you forgot I was your boyfriend?"

Your eyes fluttered open to soft kisses peppering your face.

"Morning." Tim rasped against your ear before nipping at it, making your skin rise along with your hitching breath.

There was a new bruise forming on his back, you ran your fingers over it but didn't ask any questions. He had his personal life and you had yours and you respected whatever he had to do to take out stress in his life.

"Morning-" your voice was soft and sleepy as Tim left a bite mark right on your pulse before licking over the mark he left. "How was patrol?"

"Nothing interesting. I missed you, though. And you definitely missed me." He emphasized the last words, his fingers reaching for your bare pussy under your nightgown.

"Nothing interesting?" You squeaked. You were so wet that his fingers glided over your slit with ease. That was good, interesting, in Tims case usually implied danger. You worried less on the nights that he came back home bored.

He tilted his head to the side as if considering something. "Well, actually, the end of the night was pretty entertaining. Thanks to you."

"Really?" You asked, grinning. "What happened?"

He took your breasts in his hands and softly rolled your nipples between his index and thumbs over your pastel pink nightgown. Sensitive, you let out a wimper, arching against the mattress and pushing your breasts into his hands. "Mhmm, maybe I shouldn’t say."

Each swipe of his finger over your responsive peaks sent a shiver down your body straight to your sex. Your head rolled back against the soft pillow, hair spralked all around you.

"Please tell me?" You begged, now starting to get nervous. Last night was girls' night. You knew Tim would be on patrol, so you met your girlfriends at the bar. Come to think of it... you don't really recall what happened.

He kissed down your body to the top of your inner thighs. Where you were ticklish. "Let's just say i got a cute phone call at four in the morning."

Gasping, you bolted up to a sitting position on the bed. "No!"

"Oh yes," at his place between your thighs, Tim met your gaze and let out a sinister, evil laugh. The vibration of his laughter made his tongue rub deliciously against your slit, making you moan and arch your back.

You fought to stay focused. "What did I say to you?"

"Idunno," he hummed, closing his eyes as his toungue mapping out your clit in small circles.

"Tim- ah-" your fingers grasped at his messy hair as the stimulation against your clit began to build up. Oh god, he'd gotten so good at that. Your breathing grew quicker as his tongue continued its assault. "Mhnnn, what did I say?" You whined.

Veiny hands squeezed your thighs before coming back up to push you back onto the bed. The material of your nightgown split at the front, baring and exposing your breasts to be tormented by his hands once more.

He continued toying with you for a long time. The delicious stimulation grew stronger and stronger until you weren't able to hold back anymore. Panting, you came all over his mouth, and he lapped at your spilling juices.

"Good girl," he cooed, running his hands over you.

"I-" you panted, kegs shaking as he gathered you in his arms. "Tim. P-please, how bad was it?"

"What do I get if I tell you," He asked with amusement while his thumb rose to tease your clit again.

Overstimukated, you squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. "I'll... I'll kiss you?"

"Well, alright." He snickered while turning on the shower handle, letting the water fall over the both of you, still in your clothes. He lowered you to the ground, keeping his lips a breath apart from yours, and whispered. "You got so drunk you kinda forgot we were dating."

Your hads rose to cover your mouth as you shook your head in horror. "No,"

He nodded. "Im afraid so, prom queen. And you called me, screaming about how you had a crush on me-"

"Stop," your hands covered your eyes.

"-and how I rocked your world -"

"Oh god."

"-really, the 'best you've ever had'. Your words, not mine."

"I'm never touching alcohol again!" You moaned, gently baging your head against his chest.

Tim's hands came to cup your face, brushing your hair behind your ears. "I love you, prom queen."

You smiled back, shily. "I love you too."

Tim's grin only widened.

[mintyys-blog]

EXPERIMENTATION— peter parker

WARNINGS: smut. no plot.

You and Peter were curled up on his tiny dorm bed, legs tangled together, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist. The glow of his desk lamp cast warm, golden light over his face, highlighting the curve of his cheekbones, the soft crease between his brows as he skimmed through a physics textbook.

You had been trying to work up the courage for this conversation all night. It wasn’t that you thought he’d say no—Peter was the most caring, attentive boyfriend you’d ever had. But that was part of the problem. He was gentle. Sweet. Thoughtful to a fault. You loved that about him. But… you wanted to see what else he could be.

You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against his chest. “Hey, Pete?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up, still absorbed in whatever equation he was working through.

You hesitated, then dove in. “I was thinking… maybe we could, um, try something different?”

That got his attention. His brown eyes flickered up to meet yours, soft and full of curiosity. “Different how?”

You exhaled slowly. “In the bedroom.”

Peter froze. The textbook slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a soft thud. “Oh.” His face immediately turned pink.

You laughed, reaching up to brush his messy curls from his forehead. “Relax, I’m not suggesting anything crazy.”

Peter blinked at you, still clearly short-circuiting. “I—uh—I wasn’t— I mean, I didn’t think—”

You grinned, loving how flustered he was getting. “I just mean… you’re always so careful with me, Pete. And I love that. But I wouldn’t mind if you, you know, took control sometimes.”

His mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. He looked like a fish out of water, struggling to form words.

“You mean… you want me to be… more, um…” He swallowed hard. “Dominant?”

You nodded, watching as his blush deepened. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested on your hip.

“I—wow, okay. That’s—uh. That’s not what I expected this conversation to be about.” He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilted your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No! No, I mean—” He cleared his throat. “I just… I didn’t think that was something you’d want from me.”

You furrowed your brows. “Why not?”

Peter exhaled, shaking his head with a self-conscious smile. “Because I’m… well, me.”

You sat up a little, resting a hand against his chest. “Exactly. You’re you, which means you’re still you even if you’re, you know, being a little rougher with me.” You smirked. “I promise I won’t break.”

Peter let out a sharp breath through his nose, looking at you with something between nervousness and fascination. “You’re really serious about this?”

“Dead serious.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your gaze. There was a shift in his expression, something thoughtful, like a hundred ideas were racing through his head at once.

Finally, he exhaled, a slow, measured breath. “Okay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

His hand moved from your waist, trailing up to cup your jaw. His touch was still gentle, but there was something different in his eyes now. A promise.

“Okay,” he repeated, voice a little lower. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And just like that, your heart stuttered in your chest. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had been thinking about this.

"But if I start getting too rough, just tell me to stop."

You nodded again, feeling anticipation build up inside you.

Without another word, Peter rolled on top of you and pinned your wrists above your head. He started kissing your neck roughly making his way down sucking hard enough that marks would appear.

His hands roamed over your body then zeroed in on your nipples twisting them and pinching the sensitive buds.

He then flipped onto his back bringing pulling bringing onto him straddling him. You felt his hardness pressing into you entering slowly working himself to be fully seated inside. He began bucking hips to an upwards slamming motion; he was getting deeper each stroke, rubbing against every sensitive spot sending sparks flying through your entire body. You threw your head back as you bounced up and down on his cock, your boobs moving with you. He watched your reactions, drinking in the sight of you. “You’re so beautiful like this..” you were moaning his name, going to cum soon as he played with your tits. “Pete, I’m gonna—”

Then suddenly he stopped. Pulling out, he spun you around bending over edge mattress. His palm coming crashing downwards meeting the flesh of your ass. Making loud slapping noises which echoed through the room. His spanking left crimson handprints behind. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. You gasped as you came with a cry.

Peter pulled back on your hair exposing your neck. He leaned forward sinking teeth gently piercing skin just enough break surface. You whimpered at his bites, and he snapped his hips harder into you. He pulled out, watching as cum dripped out of your pussy. He panted for a moment, catching his breath. Then he flipped you on your back once more, hiking your legs to wrap around his waist. He thrusts in once more, and you moaned, your nails dragging down his back.

As the pain mixed with pleasure, Peter’s hand intertwined with yours holding them firmly in place. While he used his other hand as leverage applying pressure— constricting airflow to your neck. He threw your legs on his shoulders and thrusted in at a new angle. You gasped and squeezed his cock, silently encouraging him to do more. Peter snaps his hips against yours unrelenting grinding motions bringing intense pleasure.

His fingers digging deep into your hips controlling all movement; dictating pace, roughness, all of it. He was in control and he made it sure it was known.

Your vision began blur from oxygen deprivation still managed whisper single word, “more” which earned response to increase the intensity. He was throwing his entire weight behind every thrust sending shockwaves through both of your bodies threatening to topple over the edge.

And then everything went white.

When it was all over and Peter had finally released his hold on your throat allowing air rush back lungs. You smiled weakly looking upwards meeting gaze that sparkled mischief, knowing exactly what buttons to be pushed.

As you lay there, trying to catch your breath, Peter's eyes locked onto yours, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You liked being taken like that."

You nodded, still trying to process the intensity of what had just happened.

"I can see it in your eyes," Peter continued, his words dripping with dirty talk. "You love being dominated, love being told what to do. You're a naughty girl, aren't you?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as Peter's words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yeah, you are," Peter said, his voice filled with conviction. "You're a dirty girl who loves getting fucked hard and rough. And I'm the only one who can give it to you like that."

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine," he whispered. "My little slut, my little whore. And I'm going to use you whenever I want."

His words sent a spark of excitement through you, and you felt yourself getting wet all over again.

"Oh yeah?" Peter said, noticing the look in your eyes. "You want more? You want me to fuck you some more?"

You nodded eagerly, and Peter chuckled.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long shot."

He flipped you over onto your back and started kissing your neck again roughly making his way down sucking hard. Your neck was littered with hickeys.

As he kissed he started talking dirty again. His hands roamed over your body then zeroed in on your nipples twisting them and rolling them between his fingers.

"You like being treated like this don't you?" He asked between kisses.

"Yes" You replied.

"You're my little bitch aren't you?"

"Yes" You spoke again.

Peter’s fingers intertwined with yours holding them firmly in place.

"I own this pussy now" He growled into your ear.

He pressed into you again, slapping your ass with his right hand. The stinging sensation was exhilarating rather than painful—almost addicting.

By the looks of it, the night was far from over.

[27spoons]

Under The Influence | Vanessa Palmer

pairing: vanessa palmer/reader

request: van taking care of the reader after drinking too much and the reader embarrassed herself saying how pretty they are or that she wants to be more then friends (@modernvenuss)

wc: 1820

warnings: intoxication (reader), alluding to throwing up but nothing described, fluff at the end i promise, not proofread we die like coach ben's leg

a/n: i'm assuming this was young van since it wasn't specified 😭if i am wrong i am so sorry

"Oooooooookay." As you lean on her shoulder to support yourself, Van laughs, " Someone has had too many beers."

"I have not." You say, definitely not slurring your words in the slightest. "I just had… like… a few pulls from the keg…" A small hiccup and giggle follow your words, and then a sheepish grin splits across your features.

Van rolls her eyes as she grabs the car keys from your pocket and unlocks it, "Right… and what is your definition of 'a few'? Five? Six? Ten?" She laughs, "I thought you were good at math."

"I am," leaves your lips in a grumble. "I'm really good at math."

"Right." Van agrees as she unlocks the door to your mom's Toyota, "I think these AP Precalculus classes aren't doing you any good. I would, personally, reconsider attending them if they aren't doing you any good." The passenger side door opens up, and she ushers you into the seat, clicking your seatbelt into place despite your protests.

"Vaaaaaaaaaaan." You whine petulantly as she closes the door, leaving you alone in the car for a few seconds. She moves to the driver's seat, sticking the keys in the ignition and bringing the car to life. "C'mon. Just a little while longer. I heard Jackie talking about—"

"Nope." Van cuts you off, popping the 'p,' "We are leaving."

"Where are we going?" You continue to whine, glancing over at the redhead with what you hope is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.

She can't fight the grin that appears on her face, and her voice shifts slightly, "The Fourth World. It's sort of like Heaven, only better, because there aren't any Christians. It's an absolute paradise of music, art and pure enjoyment."

You stare at her deadpan. "Did you just quote Heavenly Creatures to me?"

A laugh spills from her mouth as the car slides into gear, pulling away from the curb. "Oh, so you aren't drunk enough to walk, but you're drunk enough to remember lines from a movie?"

"A movie that you've made me watch, like, ten times!" You grumble, throwing your arms up in frustration, which is honestly just a result of you being drunk more than anything else. "So it's… like… your fault, or whatever." 

"You did not have to watch it with me, but you did. So, you're at fault here." She grins, clearly proud of herself. "But, just so you know, I'm taking you back home. So you can pass out on your bed instead of the front lawn of the Taylor's house." Van glances at you once the car reaches a stop sign and nudges your shoulder gently before returning her hand to the wheel, "You're gonna thank me in the morning."

You grumble out something similar to a curse—which earns you an eye roll—and you rest your head against the window, looking at the houses that pass by in the night.

At some point during the drive, you roll your window down, a soft exhale leaving your lips as the night air washes over your face. It's warm out, but not warm enough that it's uncomfortable. You close your eyes and let the feeling of the wind against your face lull you into some state of soberness, and you don't even notice the words leaving your lips as they do. "I really like you, Van." You mumble out so quietly you're almost positive the words are just bouncing around your head rather than being spoken out loud. "Like… a lot. You're always there for me when I need you, and you're really pretty." A soft sigh leaves your lips, and you feel the bumps in the road start to soothe you into a state of unconsciousness. "Sometimes I wish we were more than friends."

The next little while is a blur.

You vaguely remember Van helping you out of the car and into your house, and you swear she said something important to you after helping remove your shoes, but you can't remember what it was for the life of you.

The morning comes with a thundering headache and nausea that makes you feel like you'd rather be dead.

Maybe you did have a few too many beers last night. Whoops.

You nearly fall off your bed in an attempt to get up, scowling slightly when you realise you're still in last night's clothes. "Fuck me," comes out of your mouth with a wave of stale beer and… cigarettes? You don't even smoke. What the hell were you doing last night?

All sticky and gross, you manage to stumble out of your bedroom and into the hallway, making a beeline for the bathroom. You don't even bother flicking the lightswitch on as you fall to your knees in front of the toilet and—

Well, I'm sure you're quite aware of what you did. 

At some point, you hear a gentle murmur from the door and feel someone rest their hand on your upper back, earning a soft groan from you in response to the sudden presence. As you slowly blink yourself back into existence, you glance away from the toilet and come face-to-face with a very blurry… Van?

"Y're still here?" You mumble out, exhausted and hungover, "Why didn' y'go home?" 

"'cus I didn't have anyone to drive me there. I can't steal your mom's car; she'd kill me." Van rolls her eyes and cleans your face up with a handtowel, "Because I knew you were gonna be hungover, and I didn't want to leave you alone in the morning. Your parents are still on vacation." 

You make a small sound at that—one that you aren't quite sure what it's supposed to convey—and rest your head back on your arm with a grunt. "I wanna die."

Van scoffs, "Yeah, I grabbed some Tylenol from the medicine cabinet when I heard you in here. You can take it when you stop throwing up." She gently wipes some sweat from your forehead, and your eyes fall closed at the tender action.

You lay with your head on the toilet seat for about another ten minutes before Van decides you aren't about to throw up again anytime soon and moves you back to your bedroom, giving you some fresh clothes to wear before stepping out of your room to let you change.

She returns with a knock five minutes later, peeking her head into the room with a bottle of water and a bowl of apple sauce. "Don't know how much you can keep down right now, so… this will have to do. I'm pretty sure this apple sauce was expired, but it's… probably fine." Van grins at you, and you genuinely can't tell if she's joking or not as she takes a seat on the side of your bed. "Also got you some painkillers for your head." She places the water bottle on your nightstand and grabs the pill container from her pocket, "Hoping you can keep them down."

You smile at her gratefully, taking the apple sauce from her hands. "I… uh… shit. I feel like I owe you something."

"Three pennies and a ball o' lint, kiiiddd." She grins wide, all teeth. "Nah, you don't owe me anything. I got to crash on your couch last night and not deal with my mom, so… I think that debt is already paid." A beat, "Oh! I also stole some Fruit by the Foot. Sorry." But you both know she's far from sorry.

A quiet chuckle leaves your mouth, which causes you to wince in pain at the throbbing in your head. Van, ever the angel, takes two pills from the bottle and passes it to you alongside the water. 

An awkward silence follows you swallowing down the pills, and you aren't quite sure why Van can't meet your eyes until she breaks that tense air that surrounds you. "So, uh… just outta curiosity, how much do you remember from last night?" 

You blink a few times and exhale softly through your nose, "I… uh…" 

Your eyes go wide.

"Oh, shit, Van, I didn't mean it—I mean, I did, but I also didn't mean to say it like that—" A frustrated groan parts from your lips, and you let your head fall back against the pillow behind you. "I'm sorry."

There's a long moment of silence, and you start to worry that you've crossed a line last night, already cursing yourself for ruining a friendship that you've had for years—

She's laughing.

Van is laughing.

Loud and boisterous like she usually does, hand pressed to her stomach as she leans forward. "Oh, shit. You meant it." She keeps laughing, and you honestly aren't quite sure what to do at this point. Yes, her laughter is starting to hurt your head, but it's also nice to hear her laugh, so you don't stop it. Which is probably a mistake, considering you've listened to her laugh for what you're pretty sure was an hour straight before, but whatever. 

Van takes a breath, her grin softening. She reaches out and rests her hand on yours, her fingers warm and steady. "Listen," she starts, her tone gentler than usual. "I laughed because it caught me off guard, not 'cause I don't feel the same."

You swear your heart stutters for a moment, and you feel wide awake despite being dead tired moments ago. "Wait… what?"

She shrugs, "I mean, yeah, you’re pretty great. Always have been. And you’re not bad to look at—when you’re not puking your guts out." She smirks, but there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just didn’t think you’d... you know, feel that way."

"I didn’t think you would, either," you admit quietly, glancing down at the point where her hand rests on yours, "You’re always so... confident, Van. I figured you were way out of my league."

"We're best friends, idiot." Van rolls her eyes, her grin resurfacing. "So, by default, that makes us in the same league, actually." A beat, that grin softening again, a warmth appearing in her eyes you've only ever seen a small handful of times before. "So, what do you say? Once you’re not hungover and smelling like a brewery, maybe we... see where this goes?" She gently squeezes your hand to prove her point.

You laugh, the sound scratchy but genuine. "I’d like that. But you better bring me more Fruit by the Foot. I think my brother is gonna kill you when he gets back with my parents."

"Deal, and I'll deal with your brother. He's twelve. Not that hard to beat up." Van grins, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. "Now, drink that water, finish your expired applesauce, and let me figure out how to fake a doctor’s note to get us out of school tomorrow."

"Why do you even know how to do that?"

She winks. "Because I’m awesome. And now, apparently, I’m yours."

a/n: crush a2c5 next trust

[stevefromupsidedown]

dying on the inside ‣ Steve Harrington

[This material falls under @takemetothelakes-poets’ property. I do not give permission for this material to be copied, modified, reproduced, displayed and used in AI without my written permission. The original characters belong to their original creators, are used in fair-use and are protected by International Copyright Law.]

The light of the day was a godsend, it announced warmth, light, life.

On days like those Steve would try to enjoy them as much as he could, even if he had his job at Family Video, he would probably arrange an impromptu date with his girlfriend.

A picnic on the hills of Hawkins, where, at this time of the year, was blossoming with flowers, the sun set low and late. Birds chirping on the edge of the forest. 

He could almost hear her laughter as he was lying in his bed, facing the night. Cold, dark, unwelcoming. 

Nights had become a nightmare, quite literally and metaphorically. 

An opened door to nightmares, waking in tears, sweat and out of breath. Or it was the cold embrace of insomnia, lulling him awake to see the short hours of the night. The sunrise peeking through his curtains.

When his bed felt uncomfortable he would throw a cardigan around his shoulders and sit by his pool, watching as the night transformed into the day, the sky first taking a purple colour then moving into pink, bits of orange, finally blue.

It seemed peaceful, and it kinda was, sometimes, but mostly, it was a river of unstoppable thoughts, and voices. And it happened a lot more than he would like to admit.

He didn't get nightmares until the Soviets, but it didn't last long, when Vecna/Henry/One came around, the atrocities they saw, the loss they experienced, it began to be too much. 

"You look lonely," her voice said, he closed his eyes at the sensation of her presence. It almost brought tears to its tired features.

"Without you, I am," he opened his eyes to turn his head towards the sound of her voice. 

He had an oversized hoodie on, the hood lazily resting behind his neck, red and sleepless eyes, exhaustion written on his face. 

Lied on a sun lounger by his pool, wrapped in a thin and fuzzy blanket. His house was deadly silent as he was alone, as always.

She was imitating his position on the sun lounger, her eyes looking so deeply into his tired ones. A soft smile on her face.

There was a comfortable silence, as they looked at eachother, Steve let his mouth speak before thinking, he was way too tired for that anyway.

"I've missed you. A crazy lot." 

“I know. But you know I had to do it, we’ve been through this already.” 

“Yeah, I know, but in the most desperate time... like right now… I still wish you hadn’t.” 

Her eyes moved from his to something near and she winced, he followed her gaze and realised she had seen his glass of whiskey sitting by a footrest he used as a coffee table and he grimaced. The ice was almost completely melted, its remaining clinking softly against the edge of the glass. 

“I haven’t seen you with a glass of whiskey since senior year, three years ago.” 

Escaping from his blanket, bending on the side he reached for his glass, two small pieces of ice remained on the surface, it looked like an iceberg ripped apart. 

Since Vecna, the invasion in Hawkins, memories from that night were the source of his nightmares and his unfinished grief. Some nights finished in a few glasses of his father’s favourite bottle of whiskey, it seemed to either appease or fuel his demons. It was a solution, a very poor one at that, but the only one that gave him comfort. 

“It's just a couple glasses here and there," his voice was so low he didn't even know if he could be heard but she did.

"Whiskey is your sad drink. Just like beer is your party drink. Steve.." 

He took another sip from his glass, lying back on the sun lounger, holding his glass with only two fingers, he closed his eyes as he savoured the burning taste of the alcohol on his tongue.

"You're not really here, so.. I don't see why you care," his tone became harsher as he drank, he had opened his eyes to take a better look at her face. 

"What makes you so certain I'm not really here ? We live in a crazy world." 

Offended by her question, he took yet again another sip of his drink, he furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes fixated on the pool in front of them. 

"Because your coffin is resting in Hawkins' cemetery six feet underground," he started, not looking at her, but he continued, "and like you said, this crazy world killed you. This is some trick, hallucination, I don't know, something my brain has made up because I miss you, and I can't believe you're dead." 

"You just said it. You must believe it somehow."

"No. Saying it doesn't mean I believe it. I know it because I saw it happen before my eyes, but I can't wrap my head around it because it's you. And it's not right for you to be dead." 

He paused, his hair falling in front of his eyes, his chest rising and falling a bit quickly as he talked rapidly. Nervously. His eyes searching in front of him a reason to be nervous, agitated. His brown irises fell upon her. 

"It's not fair and it's not normal, and-... Jesus Christ it's hell without you here." 

It felt like two orbs were piercing through his skull as she looked at him, all ears for him.

"I don't get to see you smile, laugh, sleep, sunbathe, I can't see the stars in your eyes anymore, I can't hear your lame jokes, I can't hear your laugh, I can't hear the sound of your voice. I can't touch you, whether it's getting to hug you, feel your touch, or even just intimacy with you. I can't pleasure you anymore, hear you moan my name when you were on the edge, I can't feel the goosebumps when you were close, or even just kiss your skin. Taste you. Feel your warmth in bed. We can't do anything we had planned because you're not here anymore. And it's like living in hell," his voice broke more and more as he kept ranting on, until his watery eyes couldn't hold on the tears anymore and he started sobbing. 

Shaky breaths left Steve's mouth as his breathing became erratic, his hands in his hair, some handful of hair falling in front his eyes.

She wasn't sure if he would accept her touch, so she preferred staying on her lounger. She knew Steve would never be violent, but it felt out of place to impose herself in such a way.

She waited for him to calm down slowly, the silence comfortable as his tired eyes looked at the sky changing colors, it was rising, deep purple to a mix of lilac, orange and pink.

He let out another shaky breath, closing his eyes to inhale deeply, trying to calm his heart beating crazily in his ribcage.

When he was calmer and comfortable enough to speak, he turned his head, crossed his legs against his chest and his arms crossed, elbows against his knees, his eyes towards her. He cleared his throat. 

"The most horrific thing, apart from your absence and how difficult it is to live with it, is how it happened. And how graphic it was," his voice was soft.

She felt his eyes on her so she turned her face towards him, mimicking his position on the lounger she rested her head in her crossed arms.

"It's like I can relive this moment non-stop. There was so much blood, you were choking on it, barely able to make a syllable. The smell of blood was.. suffocating, heaving. You were in pain and I couldn't do anything to save you. I couldn't stop the bleeding, couldn't get you to a gate to take you to the hospital. And I think it was when the clock rang the four chimes and the portals started opening from the gates.. you..," he paused, he could see the scene happening in his brain as he swallowed up his saliva.

He exhaled loudly, he knew his voice would be shaky, but he continued, "I wasn't fast enough to take you away with me, and the portal completely burned away your legs, your thighs.. your lower body was just.. gone. And the pain was so much worse, you were sobbing, suffocating in your own blood. I couldn't do anything." 

His voice was as a whisper, but very audibly perceptible as they were in complete silence, only the birds awaking above them could be heard.

"I just held you, sobbing, in complete despair. Telling you 'I love you' on repeat. Until eventually, I realised you weren't breathing anymore, my tears mixing in your blood as I realised, terrified, mortified, that you were dead," he paused once again, his eyes zoning on one point by his pool.

"And I wept even more, because you couldn't- can't be dead. Even if I closed your eyes myself,  even if I had to leave you there and God I absolutely hate myself for it. Robin and Nancy had to drag me away from you, because I wouldn't- couldn't move. We had a funeral, but with an empty coffin so it's not real. And I think I even feel worse because your parents don't know they buried it empty, now I understand the way Nancy felt about Barbara. It's unfair. And I'm.. exhausted from all of it. It doesn't even make sense now… to live without you I mean, it's.. bland." 

He finally zoned out of his trance, and directed his eyes towards her, where she was patiently listening to him. 

Even though he had experienced her.. 'presence' since she was gone, he hadn't been so sincere and profound with his feelings, his suffering.

"I don't remember much, except from the cold, and the taste of blood, your tears, the excruciating pain. The suffocating part, that I definitely did not forget. But I also remember the 'I love yous' . They lulled me away to the darkness. To Death." 

The scene was truly just so heart wrenching to witness. Holding her so tightly on his lap, crying his heart out, his hands on both sides of her torso to tentatively stop the bleeding. 

The particles of the Upside Down would sometimes temporarily cloud his vision, the air thick, toxic, and smelled of iron with the quantity of blood around them.

She had her eyes focused on him, remembering his own and their colour, choking on her own blood, her chest kept tightening at the lack of oxygen, the pain was in wave, each time she inhaled it felt like knives were digging deeper into her flesh, and with her lower body gone, she felt it burn, it was horrendous, and the smell was enough to make her nauseous.

Tears clouded both their visions, hot cries of salty water running down their cheeks. 

There was so much he wanted to say, but his shaky voice could only repeatedly tell her he loved her.

And she wanted to say she didn't want to die, she wanted to do so much with him, but she couldn't even breathe correctly, let alone speak. 

Then she started feeling cold, no, she realised she was cold, and exhausted. Her eyes were just shutting off on their own, everything was blurry and she tried to resist, she tried so hard. The sounds were different, she could recognise a bit of Steve's voice trying to keep her awake but she felt herself leaving.. leaving.. and then.. nothing.

When he realised she was gone his hands left her sides to capture her cheeks, trying to wake her. 

His cries were louder, gut-wrencher.

Her eyes were glazed, empty. And he kept saying her name, and he wept so much.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. 

Robin came to his level, in a delicate voice she whispered, "Steve, we have to go, we need to get back to Hawkins. I'm sorry." 

He was so exhausted, so done with all the shit that kept happening. He nodded mechanically.

He let out a shaky breath. He closed her eyes with his thumbs, leaving blood on her cheeks and her eyes. He kissed her forehead, and shortly after that he followed Robin and Nancy. Silent. Empty. 

"I don't know how I can keep going on without you," he whispered, his voice a mess as he was on the edge of tears.

She handed him her hand, inviting him near her, he looked at it then her eyes, he didn't know if he could touch her. But he wanted to feel her so bad.

Getting up from his lounger he made his way toward her's, and sat down right next to her.

She laid her legs and indicated to him to rest against her. 

"Let me hold you, Steve," that's all he needed to be convinced and lay on the lounger with her, in between her thighs as she held him. Head against her chest. Her hands in his hair.

He didn't know if he was dreaming or totally losing his mind, but he cried a few tears of happiness in a comfortable silence.

Until he woke up. Alone. Curled up on the lounger. 

A new wave of despair escalated through him, watery eyes on his whiskey brown irises. 

Running a hand through his hair he let out a shaky breath, holding back the tears as much as he could.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes closed, letting it overflow, hoping he would feel some warmth to prove her presence, somehow. But nothing. 

"I'll always love you." 

[kotton-kandy953]

❏ 𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐕𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 !

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 love interest ꒱ . . . yandere ! k. kazuha ! high school ! au x fem ! reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 format ꒱ . . . headcannons

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 warnings ꒱ . . . obsessive themes, stalking, yandere themes

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 authors note ꒱ . . . I love kazuha so, so, so much omgggg || teyvat high school simulator homepage!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🔪 word count ꒱ . . . 0.4k

Kaedehara Kazuha always has this dreamy, almost romantic look in his beautiful, red eyes as he daydreams. His cheek resting in his bandaged palm as he watches the autumn leaves fall from the tall trees out the window. Well, when he’s not gazing over at your elegant figure, that is.

Kazuha always carries around this old, ruled, notebook he uses daily to write down different poems, haikus or whatever he feels is right. A majority of them being love poems addressed to an anonymous recipient named, “my love” or “darling.”

Unbeknownst to you, his “love” he just adores writing to is you.

If he ever dared muster up the courage, he would gladly give you every single poem he has expressing his undying, and quite obsessive, love for you. But that may never come to be.

On the topic of his poems for you, the first ones would start off simple. Almost as if you were fascinating to him, in a way. Despite him not ever calling you out by name, by the way he explicitly described you, you could instantly decipher who he was talking about.

Once Kazuha began to fall in love, to fall hard, actually, his poems became more romantic. Describing his feelings as almost obsessive, knowing a bit more information about you than you’d feel comfortable with another classmate knowing.

Actually, Kazuha loves poetry so much that he began a poetry club at school, making himself the president. Sometimes, he’ll even ask you to proofread some of his works. Obviously not the poems he dedicated to you, because if you ever found out how obsessed he is with you… he prefers not to think of the outcome.

If he ever notices you a friend of his struggling in a subject, he would gladly help you out. Because of his kind personality and soft voice, he’s a great tutor.

When having to write an essay or speech, he’ll use big words, phrases that most people don’t understand.

He takes band (with Xiao) and plays the flute, a wood WIND instrument.

His favorite classes are English and Social Studies/History.

Kazuha is an overall well behaved student, he’s polite and kind to whoever he comes across. But when he’s jealous, it’s a totally different thing. Everyone knows that… disposing of someone permanently is really bad. So why does that thought refuse to leave his mind?

No matter what words he jots down into his notebook filled with poety, his raging jealousy relentlessly eats away at his already deteriorating sanity.

Nevertheless, he shouldn’t be afraid to get a little blood on his hands for his darling, right?

Kazuha doesn’t like the idea of “stalking” you. Believes that everyone should respect your each other’s privacy. Nevertheless, he will watch you from afar while you’re out alone in public. He has to make sure you return home safely every afternoon!

What would he ever do with himself if he never saw you again?

[bubbleggum444]

—❝CRΛSH LANƊING IИTO YOU❞

contents clark kent x fem!reader, traffic officer!reader au, fluff, 2k+ wc. synopsis love at first (crash) sight.

The blaring horns of impatient drivers below were just another part of the daily chaos in Metropolis—after all, it was rush hour.

Clark hovered above the city, carrying out his usual morning patrol when—whoa. His vision blurred, his head spun. Strange. Superman doesn’t just get dizzy. Unless… unless he undercooked his chicken last night?

He barely has time to register the sudden, sharp pain piercing through his skull before—

CRASH.

Oh, great. Great job, Clark. Just had to be clumsy today, huh?

Dazed, he scrambles upright in a swift motion, immediately reaching down to help the poor civilian he just plowed into.

And then—oh.

Oh.

His breath catches. His stomach does something weird.

He hadn’t just crashed into anyone. He had crashed into a traffic officer. Not just any traffic officer—the most beautiful traffic officer he had ever laid his sea-blue eyes on.

“I—I’m so sorry, miss! I didn’t mean to bump into you—”

He cringes the second the words leave his mouth. Bump into? Really? He practically bulldozed her.

But instead of being upset, she lets out a soft laugh.

“That certainly was the hardest push I’ve ever received!”

Clark’s heart stutters. She… wasn’t mad? This sweet woman standing in front of him wasn’t mad that he had so idiotically crashed into her, knocked over her equipment, stopped her work?

His nerves, frayed and exposed, ease ever so slightly. He spots her cap on the pavement and, in his usual clumsy manner, stumbles as he rushes to retrieve it.

Another laugh—a beautiful laugh—escapes her lips as she takes it from him, her fingers briefly brushing his.

Up close, he notices the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine lingering around her—sweet, just like her. But then, something else catches his eye. A scratch on her cheek, no doubt from the fall.

Before he even thinks, his hand reaches out, fingertips grazing her skin.

“I—I’m so, so sorry—”

His words vanish, thoughts evaporating the second she gently places her much smaller, surprisingly cold hand over his.

She. was. touching. his. hand.

BEEP BEEP!

The blaring car horn jolts them both. For a moment there, time had frozen, the world had melted away, and they had forgotten everything—including the massive traffic jam forming around them.

“Oh! Oh my!”

She chuckles, flustered, before swiftly gathering her equipment and bringing her whistle to her lips, effortlessly resuming her job.

“I really am sorry,” Clark tries again, guilt twisting in his chest. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Superman.” Her voice is gentle, yet composed, cutting off his nervous rambling. “Be on your way now. I’m sure you’ve got your hands full.”

He nods quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, right… I should go. But, uh—this might be weird, and sudden, and maybe a little out of line, but—” He exhales sharply, steeling himself. “Would you let me take you out for coffee sometime? Maybe?”

His heart thumps. Hard. Too bold. Way too bold. But he also knew he needed to try. To let go, even just a little. And right now, with a woman like her in front of him, he couldn’t let the moment slip.

“I…” Her lips part, then curl into a small, shy smile. “Yeah.” A nervous chuckle escapes her. “I’d like that, Superman.”

BEEP BEEP!

Another honk. Another impatient driver.

Clark barely registers it—his head is too busy spinning, his heart too busy soaring.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

© — ggυɱi '25

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