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#where do we go from here.. the words are coming out all weird..
maraudersmyloves · 12 hours
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hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”
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CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing
You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.
That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.
The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.
It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.
Never.
No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.
Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.
Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56
Down to the motherfucking Second
Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.
It's 9:34 and you're not here.
You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.
Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.
Now, you're not here.
Everyone is here
Except for you
It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved
You are in your room crying
You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird
The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse
For two weeks you haven't
The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected
Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him
Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?
God, why can you never just talk to him??
"Oh, hi guys!"
You force a smile but they see through it
"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"
"I've just been studying, you know how i get"
"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"
Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered
Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"
"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.
Not from her
Your best Friend
Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry
"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"
His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.
You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding
He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.
You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone
He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are
One after the other they usher out
All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.
"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"
Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?
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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 day
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Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse
Word Count: 4388
Series Rewrite Masterlist
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You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.
“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.
“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.
“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.
“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.” 
“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.
Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.
“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”
“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”
He clearly wasn’t.
“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”
“Ooh, I like that one,” you said. 
Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”
Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”
“Seen what?” you asked.
Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag. 
“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.
The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.
“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”
“Where?” Dean asked.
“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.
The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”
He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”
“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.
“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?” 
Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.
“Why would you think that?” you questioned.
“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.
“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”
“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.
“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.” 
You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”
You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”
“And sometimes… they come true.”
Dean was stunned. “Come again?”
“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.
“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed. 
“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”
You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”
Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”
“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.
Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”
“When what?” you asked.
Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”
Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”
Dean nodded. “I know we do.”
***
You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.
“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.
“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.
Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.
“Yes?” the woman said.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”
One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”
The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”
You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”
She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.
“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.
“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”
“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.
You waved.
“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, from Wichita.”
“You got family here, or…?”
Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”
“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.
Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”
You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly. 
“But this place has its issues,” she finished.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”
That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”
“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”
Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”
Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”
“What, Sari?” Sam asked.
“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.
“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”
They shook their heads.
“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.
Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”
The boys seemed too shocked to speak.
You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”
She nodded.
“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”
You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door. 
“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.
“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.
"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.
“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”
“I don’t know!” Dean responded.
The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.
“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.
“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”
“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.
You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”
Sam and Dean both nodded.
“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair. 
***
“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas. 
“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”
He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”
"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.
"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”
"About that night, you mean?”
"Yeah.”
Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”
You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.
“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”
"No.”
“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”
“And he never had a theory about what did it?”
“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”
"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”
You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”
Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy. 
“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.
‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.
Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.
You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”
While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.
“You stalkin’ me?”
“No, actually, I came to check on you.”
“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.
You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”
He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.
Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.
You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”
He nodded sharply. 
Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.
You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.
***
The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.
She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”
The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.
She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”
You giggled.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.
“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained. You stared at her, as did the boys.
“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”
You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room. 
“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.” 
You giggled again. You liked her a lot.
“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”
“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.
“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”
“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.
Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?” 
“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”
You smirked at Sam and sat down.
Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”
“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.
“But you were thinkin’ about it.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.
“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”
Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri. 
“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked. 
Tears welled in your eyes. 
Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”
“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.
“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.
“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”
“And could you?”
You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.
“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”
You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head. 
***
You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions. 
Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you. 
“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room. 
“Why?” Sam asked.
Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”
Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.
“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.
“Yeah,” Dean answered.
“Amateur,” she deadpanned.
You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically. 
“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.
“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
She nodded.
“How do you know?”
“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”
“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.
“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”
“You said there was more than one spirit.”
“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”
Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”
***
After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.
“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.
“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”
You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.
When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.
“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.
You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.
Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”
You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place. 
“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.
“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”
Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”
The front door opened.
“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”
"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.
“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.
Dean stood glued to his spot.
“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”
He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.
“And don’t cuss at me!”
***
You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.
“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.
“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.
“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”
“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”
Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”
You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”
The three of you rushed into the house.
“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.
You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you. 
Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away. 
You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.
Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.
“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.
“What, why?!” you asked.
“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”
And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.
You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”
The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”
She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked. 
She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.  
The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said. 
You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.
She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.
“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.
***
The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.
You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.
“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.
“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”
Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car.  You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.
You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I think you know.”
You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.
He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”
“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.
He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.
Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.
Sam nodded and came over to the car.
“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.
“We won’t,” Dean responded. 
“See you around,” the woman winked at you.
You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo
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featherandferns · 15 hours
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guilty as sin?(fic - part 2/2)
jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | read part 1 here!
content warning: mentions of sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (drug misuse, physical abuse, neglect, emotional abuse); physical violence (blood) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously
word count: 10k.
blurb: you and JJ start a secret relationship under the radar of your half-brother, John B. But with your life in Colorado becoming more and more unavoidable, and stupid slip-ups as the two of you grow closer, it becomes harder to keep your affair secret.
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Daylight brings you out of your sleep, disoriented. You grunt and try to bury yourself deeper into the sheets, hiding from the sunlight. They smell like JJ. It relaxes you like a baby soothed by its favourite blanket. But then you remember what happened, and where you are, and that it’s morning. Sitting up, you glance around the bedroom and yep, this is definitely not my room. You look down to find JJ still sleeping, his face smushed into pillow. He’s on his front, the bedsheets mostly hogged by yours truly, showing his back decorated with scratch marks. A weird sense of pride overcomes you, like you’ve marked your territory. Sighing, you relax back into the bed. There’s a dull ache between your legs and you’re slightly sticky with sweat, but neither is particularly unpleasant. After a few minutes, you decide you can’t take the quiet anymore.
You roll over and prod at JJ’s face.
“Mhm, leave me alone, it’s the weekend.”
“Wake up. I’m bored,” you say.
You keep poking until he bats your hand away. With a long exhale, he rolls onto his side and cracks open an eye.
“Hi,” you smile. It’s hard not. You feel like you’ve slept with a coat hanger in your mouth.
“Hi.”
He reaches out a hand and strokes the side of your face, tucking some hair behind your ears. There’s a sleepy smile growing on his face as he wakes up.
“Sleep okay?” he rasps, voice croaky from want of use.
“Mhm. You?”
“Like a Goddamn baby.”
With another grunt and sigh, he shifts onto his back and reaches blindly for his phone on the nightstand. He checks the time first, and then his notifications, and suddenly he jolts up in bed, wide awake.
“Your brother’s been blowing me up.”
You stomach drops. “What?”
“He’s asking if I know where you are,” JJ says, reading the texts.
“Do you think he knows I’m here?” you worry.
Suddenly the tryst of last night loses its incandescent glow. Reality is there in the morning the same way sun sheds light on all things that happen in the dark.
JJ shakes his head, eyes fixated on his screen. “No, no. He’d have come over.”
“Oh, right,” you mumble. You sit up and gnaw on one of your nails. JJ shuts off his phone and looks at you. “We gotta come up with an alibi.”
“Right. Course,” he nods.
“Um…We can just say that I slept over.”
JJ looks at you like you just suggested to commit a joint felony and skip state.
“Not that I slept over, slept over. You can say you saw shit go down with Tom, you offered to give me a ride back, I was upset and fell asleep.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I gave you the bed and I crashed on the couch, and we forgot to text him.”
“I think my phone’s dead anyway, so it’s not even a complete lie. And I did stay over here, so…”
JJ swallows. He nods and starts typing, sending the text. You both wait in pregnant silence for John B to respond. The minute it comes through, JJ reads it aloud.
“Cool. Just wanted to check she’s okay. Thanks for looking out for her.”
The sigh of relief the two of you share sounds rehearsed. As JJ types his reply, a question comes to mind. You’d spent all last night suppressing it, but now it spews out of you like word vomit.  
“Is this a bad idea?”
JJ sends the message and shuts off his phone, looking to you. “Is what a bad idea?”
“This,” you say, gesturing between the both of you. “Us.”
“No,” JJ replies, but his expression tells you otherwise. “No. ‘Sides, it’s only gonna happen the one time, right? No harm done. What John B doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Right. Yeah, the one time,” you echo.
JJ nods. “One time.”
Thank God neither of you are on the witness stand: you don’t sound very convincing. What was supposed to be a ‘get it out of the system’ affair might have unlocked some feral part of you that can’t go unfed. You didn’t have an extensive sexual history, but JJ blew all of them and your own psyche out of the water. That isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk away from, especially when you’ll see him every day.
“Just as long as John B doesn’t find out,” you hear yourself remark.
“Yeah. He’s got enough shit going on right now; we just need to be there for him.”
You nod.
“Sides. I made him a promise.”
Frowning, you ask, “a promise?”
“When you first came back to Kildare, I sort of brought up to John B that night at the bonfire, when you went to bed early, that I thought you were kinda cute. But he got ticked off. Told me you were going through a tough time and stuff, and to stay away from you. ‘If you’re a real friend, you’ll stay away from her’, to quote.”
“Yikes,” you mumble.
JJ nods, looking down at his hands. “Yep. Pretty clear message there.”
“Yeah, you really drove it home.”
He thankfully laughs at that.
“I mean, that’s some real Romeo and Juliet shit,” you add, laughing yourself.
He shakes his head. “Shit, I hope not. Don’t really wanna stab myself.”
“No, I stab myself. You just drink poison,” you correct.
“Yeah, I’m still not thrilled about that.”
You snigger and sink back into the pillows propped against his headrest. “I mean, it could be kinda fun, sneaking around.”
JJ raises a brow, lolling his head to the side to meet your gaze. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. Little secret hook-ups and stuff…”
“You’re that horny, huh?”
You shove his shoulder, revelling in his laugh. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss to your wrist. Then he looks at you, smiles, and it’s almost like a silent agreement. This is not a one-time thing.
“Breakfast?”
“God, yes,” you sigh.
JJ’s kitchen isn’t just messy, it’s unclean. You can understand why: his dad doesn’t scream house-wife energy and JJ is hardly home. He’s also, as hard as it is to admit it, a teenage boy. In the fruit bowl there’s mouldy peaches and bananas which are black. Fruit flies are having a feast, so at least there’s some positives to the pandemonium. The fridge is barren apart from some bacon. He keeps bread in the freezer so at least that isn’t mouldy. You perch yourself on the counter, dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, and watch him cook. It’s domestic and dull and you love every moment. He serves up two bacon sandwiches and passes one to you. Stands between your legs as you eat, one of his hands taking purchase on your bare thigh.
“S’good,” you tell him through your chewing.
“Thanks. Bout as good as my cooking gets.”
“Mhm. I could live off bacon sandwiches,” you say.
JJ chuckles. “Think Kie might have something to say about that. About how pigs are killing the planet with deforestation and treated unhumanely and bla bla bla.”
“I love your passion for political issues,” you sarcastically remark. He pinches your thigh in retaliation. You laugh. It’s simple and stupid and blissful.
When the two of you are done eating, he adds your dirty dishes to the impressive stack in the sink and makes no move to clean them. You follow him back to his bedroom and the two of you get dressed. He recommends you shower back the Chateau and you take it as code for ‘our bathroom is disgusting’. Thankfully when you peed in the dark last night, you were too fucked-out to notice. Once dressed, you tame your hair with a comb in the mirror and let JJ press kisses into your neck. He’s like a koala bear: it’s impossible to keep his hands off you. How the fuck are we gonna sneak around?
“We should head back before John B gets suspicious,” you tell him, placing the comb back on his desk.
JJ nods. He looks mouth wateringly good in his muscle tee. “I’ll take you back on my bike.”
Every minute spent as a backpack on JJ’s bike, you tether yourself to him as closely as possible. Now that the barrier has been broken, everything has come flooding out. Those same feelings that you harboured back in your preteens have only grown with your age. And now he’s here, in your arms, and you don’t want to let go. As the Chateau comes into sight, you know you have to. John B is hanging in the hammock with Kie. JJ kicks out the stand and steps off, as do you, and you both walk over with a safe space between you.
“Hey! Here they are!”
“Hey!” you smile back, waving to Kiara.
“Jeez, you guys took your time this morning,” John B comments.
Before JJ can speak, you say, “yeah, I had one too many last night. Threw up and needed more sleep.”
“Welcome to Kildare,” Kie grins. You laugh and give a mock bow as if you’d passed some unspoken initiation.
“Right, well, I gotta head out. Helping Lou out with some jobs today,” JJ declares.
“Alright man. See you round,” Kiara says, her attention already back on her phone.
“And thanks for taking care of my little sister,” John B adds.
JJ looks down at you. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he says. “Yeah, no problem. It was fun.”
Asshole.
Then he’s wandering off to his bike, leaving you stranded, having to act as if last night never happened. You head into the house and work on your watercolours. All you can seem to notice is that the colours of the marsh water are the same as JJ’s eyes. The same eyes you stared into as he came apart underneath you.
Shit. This is going to suck.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sneaking around was…doable. If it weren’t for the Friday nights, you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope. Even then, the question grew more and more with each clandestine meeting. How long can this last?
Friday nights were spent at JJ’s house. You told John B that you were crashing at Lizzy’s, and JJ made up some bullshit excuse to get out of hanging out with the Pogues on Friday evenings: I gotta help my dad with this thing…The nights were spent tangled in bedsheets, pillow talk breaking up the unsated touching that made up for lost time. Your body is still recovering from the buzz of an orgasm when your phone starts to buzz on the nightstand.
JJ leans over and picks it up. His chest is damp with sweat from the nightly antics. He rolls back over to you and holds out your phone.
“Your mom’s calling.”
“Let it go to voicemail,” you tell him, not sparing it a glance.
JJ does as you say and when the ‘missed call’ notification appears, it’s accompanied by ‘(23)’.
“You ignoring her or something?” JJ asks, alluding to the pile-up of missed calls.
You look to him and shrug. “Or something.”
“What’s going on with all that, anyway?”
Your intestines twist uncomfortably. “What’d you mean?”
“I mean, why aren’t you in Colorado for the summer?”
“I told you. I wanted a change of scenery,” you say.
JJ laughs, unconvinced. “Bull-shit. You haven’t come back here in years, and you’re closer to L.A. than North Carolina. Why not go there? It’s warmer.”
“Hardly,” you say. “And it’s full of fake people. Influencers and tourists. And the traffic is—”
“Think we’re getting off topic?” JJ wonders, raising a brow.
You take your phone off him and clear the notifications, as if washing away your mom’s presence in your life entirely. Sitting up, you shove your hair off your face and dump your phone on the windowsill.
“What does it matter, JJ? So I wanted to come to Kildare again – who cares?”
“I care,” JJ replies. He sits up too.
You snort, irritation tickling at your throat. “What? Cause we’re fucking you think you deserve an explanation?”
He frowns. “Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“‘Fucking’. Like this thing between us isn’t deeper than that,” he argues.
Swallowing your anger, you sigh and close your eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just…It’s complicated.”
When you open your eyes, they land on your phone. The screen lights up as if on cue, and you know it’s your mom chasing you down for the millionth time. You’re not sure why keep avoiding her, like the problem might go away if you ignore it. It’s like a tumour: leaving it be will only cause it to fester and grow, and be all the more awful to deal with later. But facing the truth is so painfully hard. You lean over and turn your phone off completely.
“I thought John B already told you about it all, anyway,” you quietly say.
“Not really. Only that you were going through a tough time,” JJ replies.
Sighing, you lean back into the pillows.
Finding a small smile, you sardonically ask,  “alright. You wanna hear my sob story?”
JJ sniggers but it isn’t mean. He shuffles closer so you can rest against him. His body was always more comfortable than his bedding anyway. That is his silent answer: yes.
“My mom got in this accident at work two years ago. They put her on Tylenol but it didn’t help, so they switched her to OxyContin. She got hooked pretty quick and started dating this dirt-bag Rick. He was her dealer and kept her supplied, cause most of the pharmacies cut her off when it was pretty obvious she was abusing,” you say.
It feels easier to get it all out in one go, like you might lose nerve if you don’t just commit.
“Rick’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t like me for whatever reason so he chips away at me. Just dumb stuff that probably doesn’t even sound that bad out of context, but when you’re in it, and someone’s picking away at you…It gets to you.”
JJ starts to stroke at your hairline. It prompts you to continue.
“Anyway, he started stealing my shit to sell, to keep him and my mom going. She couldn’t keep a job held down much so I started working to help out with bills. But then Rick started stealing my paychecks and spending my money on useless crap or drugs. I got angry and confronted them and…And my mom took his side, over me.”
You sigh and meddle with your fingers. The tears start to sting but you’re so tired of wallowing over it. You’ve wasted too much energy on her.
“I don’t think it’s a newsflash that she’s not the best mom. I mean, she left me with Big John for four years, dragged me across the country and never contacted her only son again. But it just hurt, having the person that brought you into the world pick a stranger over you, y’know?”
You eventually feel JJ nod against you. It’s not a feeling you have to describe for him; he knows more than anyone to feel pain at the hand of someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally.
“Rick got ticked off that I tried to go against him, so he got meaner. Left my room a mess, made me do the chores, dumb petty crap like that. The worst thing was when he found my paintings though. He tore them up and ruined them. Scribbled over them. And I know they’re just drawings, and I know this is going to sound dumb,” you warn, laughing self-deprecatingly. “But they were my escape. I hated it there, but I could draw these worlds and feel like they were just for me, and I could exist there instead. And even that was taken from me.”
Images that you repressed flash back into your mind. The enchanting gardens and psychedelic landscapes mottled with black ink, indistinguishable. The way it felt like your heart might fall out of your chest and shatter on your bedroom floor when you found scraps of your paintings tossed around your room.
You clear the memories with a shallow sigh.
“Anyway…” you continue. “I got lonely. Working and all the crap at home made me miss a lot of school. I didn’t have many friends anyway. The thought of spending a whole summer there was just…I couldn’t do it. So I hit up John B and boom. Here I am.”
JJ stares at you, digesting the story. It’s certainly not as chirpy and simple as ‘I wanted a change of scenery.’ It’s scary to strip yourself down to your most vulnerable core. Different to being naked and exposed during sex: almost worse.
“And you’re gonna go back there? When the summer ends?” JJ asks.
You look up at him. You can’t pick-out one emotion on his face, there’s so many. Anger, sadness, vengeance, concern…
“Yes. No. I don’t…” you cut yourself off with a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” JJ is quick to return. “You should stay here.”
“What? And burden John B forever?”
“Sure. Why not?”
You laugh. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“Why isn’t it?”
“Cause you’re forgetting that I’m a minor, JJ. And that Big John is missing, and John B is living alone illegally. If I try to transfer here and get emancipated from my mom, it’ll just open that whole can of worms and could do more damage than good. Me and John B could both end up in foster care, and I might still get sent back to Colorado either way.”
JJ wasn’t expecting such a thorough response. It was laughable that he thought you hadn’t debated moving back to Kildare. That was your original plan, until you contacted John B and found out his dad was gone. A summer escape felt like the best option, like a breath of fresh air away from your stifling homelife, but it wasn’t a long-term fix. Life was too convoluted for that.
“Why does it have to be legal? Just run away,” JJ eventually says.
You quirk a brow tiredly. “Run away? What, like I’m ten years old and didn’t get my choice on the TV?”
“I’m serious,” JJ sighs. He shifts, kneeling before you, holding your gaze. “Fuck the government and whatever. Just stay here. Nobody’s gonna rat you out.”
“What about school?”
“Pope can tutor you,” he says.
“And a place to stay?”
“John B’s room and my place. Hell, maybe Kiara’s folks have a spare room too.”
Your heart melts a little. He’s so determined.
Smiling sadly, you stroke his face lovingly. You don’t want to snuff out his last slither of hope. So, you gently tell him, “Maybe.”
“Yeah? You’ll think about it?” he hopefully asks.
You nod, heart clenching with the lie. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”
You’re glad he kisses you then, because you can’t bare looking at him a moment longer knowing that in a month, you’ll be gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hurricane Agatha was a bitch. You’re amazed you managed to sleep through as much of the storm as you did.
You venture out your bedroom to find JJ leant against the doorframe of the porch. He’s already drinking a beer, early in the morning. You spot John B out in the backyard. He’s moving fallen branches out the way to recover the H.M.S. Pogue, back facing you. Breezing past JJ, you take advantage of John B’s distraction, slapping your unofficial boyfriend on the butt. He cusses, pinching your own as you head down the stairs. It’s the most you’ve been able to touch each other in over twenty-four hours without raising suspicion. You join your brother in ridding the boat of leaves and sticks. JJ wanders over.
“Whatcha thinking?” he asks.
“I’m thinkin’ that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab.” As he replies, John B clambers into the boat.
“What about the DCS? Wasn’t that today?” JJ asks.
John B had tried to keep as much of the DCS nightmare out of your line of sight, but you weren’t stupid. It certainly helped that you were sleeping with his best friend, a guy infamous for having loose lips. To say that John B getting found out would do some damage to yourself would be an understatement.
“Nah, they’re not getting on a ferry,” John B replies.
You look to JJ. He’s leant forward on the nose of the boat. His slender frame and well-kept body is frustratingly attractive when you can do nothing about it.
“Come on, think about it. It’s God telling us to fish!” John B says.
JJ shrugs. “I mean, I’m down. Just gotta take a leak first.”
John B says your name, drawing your attention back to him. “You coming?”
“Think I’m gonna stay in. Paint.”
JJ clears his throat, mumbling out ‘boring’ as he does. You mirthfully roll your eyes. Tapping the boat in farewell, you give a small wave.
“Have fun!”
There’s the crunch and snapping of twigs and leaves as JJ follows you back to the Chateau. You wander to the bathroom and retrieve your toothbrush. JJ joins you, shrugging his shorts down to pee. There’s no need to fill the domesticated sounds of living with chatter. Outside, John B continues to clear the boat. You spit into the sink and step aside so JJ can wash his hands. He brushes some of your hair off your shoulder when he’s done, leaning down to press a kiss on the spot where your neck becomes your shoulder. His hair tickles your skin and you laugh around your toothbrush.
“You sure you don’t wanna come today?” he asks, looping his arms around your waist.
You nod and spit into the sink again. His eyes meet yours through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got some ideas I’ve wanted to get down for a while now, but I’ve been a little distracted.”
He grins at the insinuation.
“You looking forward to your birthday next week?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you hum, toothbrush back in mouth.
“You know what you want?”
“Mm-mm,” you say, shaking your head.
His grip tightens ever so slightly around you. “I’ve got a few ideas…”
One of his hands comes to hand on the middle of your upper back, coaxing you to lean forward over the bathroom sink. With that, he crudely pretends to take you from behind. Rolling your eyes, you wriggle out of his hold.
“You’re disgusting,” you say with a mouth full of toothpaste.
“You love it,” he quips. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.”
JJ plants another kiss to your bare shoulder, blows a raspberry, and laughs as you swat him away. There’s the open and shut of the front door, his energetic chatter with your brother, grunts and groans as they move the boat to the water, and then the sound of JJ’s whoops and hollers as they set off into the town. It’s quiet in the house without them there. You find JJ’s sweatshirt on the pull-out and shrug it on. The smell calms your soul. Taking purchase at the dining table, you retrieve your phone to find the service is out.
“Let’s see you try and call me now,” you mumble to your device, indirectly talking to your mother.
The watercolours you’ve accumulated over the past  few weeks of living in Kildare could be made into a tourist guide. Whilst the gang helped at Heyward’s, you painted the shop front during a lemonade break; days spent on the H.M.S Pogue gave you drawings of the Marsh; evenings on the waterfront let you capture the beauty of the ocean. The bonfire and the hammock; JJ’s surf shack; your claimed bedroom in the Chateau…The more you painted, the more you fell in love with Kildare, and the more you wanted to stay. You refill your mason jar with fresh water and begin to work on your latest picture. It’s of JJ’s bedroom. You’ve spent enough time in there to recall it from memory. It feels like your corner of the world, safe away from prying eyes.
As the day stretches on, the group returns to the Chateau. You hear their loud chatter as they approach the house, and it seems to merge into some kind of argument when they get to the porch. Itabruptly ends after your brother announces: just let me think. You ditch your paint, hiding the artwork under less incriminating pieces, and head out to join them. JJ sits in the red armchair you’re so fond of, flicking his lighter. Kiara is on the sofa and you take the spot beside her, frowning at your brother’s face; he’s deep in thought.
“What’s going on?” you ask. You hope it isn’t the DCS.
Before anyone can reply, Pope comes racing up the stairs.
“Okay, so um, we didn’t see anything. We don’t know anything.”
You frown deepens. “What?”
He drops down onto the spot beside you, ignoring your question. “We need to have total and complete amnesia,” he tells John B.
“Actually, Pope’s right for once,” JJ says from the armchair. You all look over to him. “See, I agree with you sometimes.”
He gets to his feet, wandering towards John B. “Deny, deny, deny.”
“Guys, we can’t keep that money,” Kiara declares.
“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara,” JJ tells her.
Now you’re annoyed. “What money? What the hell is going on!?”
“We found a boat,” John B replies.
“There was a key in the boat,” Pope continues.
“The key unlocked a motel room door,” Kie says.
“And we found a shit ton of money. And a gun,” JJ finishes.
“A gun?” you gape. He nods.
“Which he stole,” Kie points out.
Your mouth hangs open even more, if that is somehow possible. “You kept the gun, JJ?”
“It was a good gun,” he defends, throwing his arms up.
Idiot. You drop your head into your hands. “I leave you guys alone for one day…”
“I was trying to be the voice of reason!” Pope tells you, defending himself.
You shake your head. “Wait? Whose money and gun was it? Whose boat was it?”
“Scooter Grubbs,” John B replies.
“We have to pass the money on to Lana Grubbs, otherwise it’s bad karma,” Kiara says.
“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too,” Pope chimes in.
Felony? Yeah, you’re already pushing it staying with your half-brother, unsupervised in a state different to your mom who doesn’t exactly know where you’ve gone…
“We gotta go dark,” he finishes.
JJ paces past the three of you, saying, “if that means we get to keep the money, then I agree.”
As he comes to a stop in front of the porch entryway, John B seems to return to the room, out of his thoughts. He pats JJ’s bare shoulder. “I don’t agree.”
“What? Why?”
“Just think about it,” John B says. “This is Scotter Grubbs we’re talking about. Alright? Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas.”
All of you watch John B’s spiel. “We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady-White? Just sayin’.”
“Wait? What’s a Grady-White?” you ask, looking to JJ. He fills you in. Short answer: a very expensive boat.
“Well, I vote we don’t keep the money,” Pope says.
“I vote we keep it,” JJ disputes, lifting his hand. He looks to John B but he doesn’t respond. Then he looks to you, and you crumble under the gaze, shrugging.
“I don’t know,” you mumble.
“Let’s take the day to think about it,” Kiara says.
And that you do. You all venture onto the jetty to fish. You stand beside JJ as he waits for something to bite, fighting the urge to lean against him. John B continues chattering away to Pope, painting the scene of a drug smuggling industry. Him and JJ agree that if he was ‘straight smuggling’, there’s probably more contraband in the boat wreck. Somehow you all wind up in your bedroom, and Pope finally relents. He agrees to rummage the wreck for contraband but ensures to underline how stupid he thinks it is.
“Right, well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time,” JJ philosophises. You watch him fan out the money.
You can’t help but feel the saying can relate to your own secret romance. Is it a stupid, remarkably bad idea to keep fooling around? Yes. Is the temporary outcome good? Hell yes.
“All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Act normal.”
“Right, and how exactly do we do that?” Pope asks from your bed.
“Keggar?” Kie offers.
Everyone shares a look. You sigh. “I can’t. I gotta go to work.”
“The restaurants probably a wreck. Just skip,” JJ responsibly says.
You shake your head. “Well, I gotta help out even if it is. Lizzy’s probably gonna be there anyway.”
“You gonna want a lift back later?” John B wonders.
You look to JJ. He’s already watching you. “Nah, I’ll just sleep at Lizzy’s.”
He knows the code. Gives the vaguest, barely-there nod in confirmation. The group gets up, everyone filtering out the bedroom door into the main of the house, chattering about what drinks to get and how to round everyone up with the cell towers down. JJ lingers in your room a moment longer, keeping you there with a gentle grab of your wrist.
“What time should I come get you?”
“Ten,” you reply. “Outside the restaurant.”
“You got it,” he nods.
A chaste kiss and then the two of you let go of one another, joining the others in the main room. Your heart is hammering so loud you’re surprised nobody can hear it. It felt like you were playing with fire, kissing so close to the others. And fire is known for one thing: it burns.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
There’s a pattern seen in serial killers. After the first five or so murders, they start to slack. Cover their tracks less, take larger risks. You and JJ weren’t out killing anyone – despite his reckless ordeal at the keggar which you later heard about through the grapevine – but you weren’t being as vigilant as when it first started out. The two of you had started to get sloppy.
Now two weeks into the illicit affair, you could hardly recall the last full truth you told John B. Your alibis were harder to keep track of. Your excuses started to weaken. And your ability to keep your hands off JJ became near to impossible. Even if it was a fleeting touch, a loving stroke of his tousled hair…It was almost reflexive. One time Kiara caught you wipe something off his cheek. The moment you saw her in your peripheral, you acted as though you were messing with him, sticking a finger in his ear to get a reaction. But she saw it, and it was a stupid thing to do.
In JJ’s bedroom, there’s a collection of your things. They’ve accumulated over time the way rocks build up on a shoreline: slow and steady, until they’re everywhere. Hair ties scattered along the desk, skincare on his bedside table, spare clothes and underwear in his closet, a toothbrush in the bathroom (that he reluctantly cleaned up). The biggest tell was your art supplies. If John B were to walk in, there’d be questions. JJ wasn’t exactly known as a monogamous guy or an artist. Your brother wasn’t stupid: you reckon he could put the pieces together pretty damn quickly. But it was hard to find it in you to care, when staying with JJ on Friday nights felt like you were playing house.
You’d asked to help him shave the other day after he gave you beard burn on the inside of your thighs. That’s how you find yourself sat on the countertop, precariously balanced on the edge of the bathroom sink, with a razor in hand. He’s stood between your legs, running a finger up and down your thigh, and watching you as you work. Every now and then you clean the razor of hairs in the sink, filled with water. One of your hands cradles his jawline, the other delicately tracing the razor down his cheek, along the apex of his neck.
“Two more days and you’ve caught up with us,” JJ says, referring to your upcoming birthday.
You smile, looking up to meet his gaze. God, you could drawn in his eyes, drift away in them. “About damn time.”
“I think Kie’s made you a cake.”
“That’s sweet,” you hum.
“Your mom gonna call?”
“Probably,” you sigh.
They’d fixed the cell towers now. An influx of texts came through, namely asking if you were safe after the hurricane. You felt the need to say that you were and did so with a simple ‘thumbs up’ reaction. That was the most you’d said to her in a month and a half.
JJ distracts you from thoughts of your mom by tracing the scar lining your elbow. The same scar that helped JJ place a name to your face after so long apart. “Remember when you broke this,” he says.
“Same. Think it’s the most pain I’ve ever been in,” you snort.
“You wouldn’t stop crying. I had to kiss you on the forehead just to get you to shut up,” he sniggers.
JJ and John B had been climbing a tree and you didn’t want to be left behind. You also wanted to impress a certain blonde-haired boy. But you lost your footing and fell, landing at a wonky angle. It was embarrassing, and painful, and embarrassing a couple more times.
“Yeah, I remember that too,” you say, smiling. “I had the biggest crush on you. I thought I was going to faint when you did it.”
“You had a crush on me?” JJ asks.
You pull away enough for him to see your face. It perfectly says really, man? He laughs. You resume your previous position.
“You were always cute.”
“Yeah right. You always saw me as John B’s little sister.”
“Well, yeah. But you were sweet. You used to bring me Hershey kisses.”
Your face feels burning hot. God, you were so subtle back then. “Stop talking or I’m gonna nick you by accident.”
He obliges, his shit-eating grin slowly fading as you work. The satisfying scrape of the razor ridding JJ of facial hair comes to an end with one final swipe. You clean the razor, wipe him clean with a wet flannel, and plant a kiss to his lips.
“Done.”
He steps around you and leans forward, inspecting himself in the mirror. He strokes at his skin, sucking his teeth with an impressed expression.
“Pretty good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You finally gonna quit complaining about my beard making you itchy?”
“Look! It’s left a mark!” you defend, opening your legs and gesturing to the inside of your thighs.
JJ grins. He slides his large palms along the inside of your quads, fingers spanning out across the skin.
“Wanna give the new shave a test run?” he asks.
He sinks to his knees. Your smile grows, heart trilling with erotic excitement. Your fingers loop through his golden hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He places two kisses to your thigh, working towards your core. Fingers hooking onto the waistband of your shorts, you hoist yourself up so he can begin to wiggle them down your legs.
The sound of the front door slamming shut has you both freezing.
Luke Maybank clears his throat, walking into the house. You pull your shorts back up, heart loud in your throat. JJ gets to his feet and pulls the plug from the sink, draining it of water. Then you both stare wide eyed into the living room of the house. Luke collapses on the couch with a sigh, beer bottle in hand. JJ helps you down from the counter, quietly placing you on the floor. You’re not sure what to do. What the best approach is. What kind of mood Luke is in. Following JJ’s lead seems the best way to go. He looks away from the room to you. His gaze is steely and determined.
“Go into my room and go out the window,” JJ instructs in a whisper.  
You nod and don’t argue. Slowly, you slink down the corridor and slide into JJ’s bedroom. You push the door closed gently, hoping for it click into the frame without drawing attention.
“JJ? That you?” Luke calls.
Cringing, you shut your eyes, hang your head, and press it against the door. You hear JJ pass the bedroom.
“Y-yeah, I’m here.”
“Thought you were at Routledge’s house,” Luke says. His voice is gruff and reminds you of sandpaper.
“Nah. Not tonight,” JJ replies. He doesn’t sound like his usual self: carefree and jovial. No, he sounds guarded. On edge, like he’s working with a wild animal, unsure of how it may react. “Thought you were out tonight too.”
“What? I can’t come back to my own home whenever I want?”
“No, course. Course you can,” JJ says.
You don’t want to leave him alone with his dad, but you know staying is risky. If Luke finds you whilst he’s in a rage, it might make things worse. He might lash out at JJ, or worse, he might turn on you. So, you slink across the room and step onto JJ’s desk, using his chair as a boost. The window slides open with little effort and you hook a leg over. The other joins it and you dangle a moment, looking down at where to land. It’s a drop about the same height as you. Bracing yourself, you bend your knees as you hit the grass. Another glance is spared to the house. It’s quiet: no shouting or fighting. Sighing, feeling as if you’re betraying JJ somehow, you begin to walk home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
As you round the corridor into the living room, your heart sinks in disappointment when you don’t find JJ asleep out on the pull-out. Instead, the bed is half-made and abandoned. You haven’t seen JJ since you snuck out of his house last Friday. Sighing, you turn into the kitchen and open the fridge. A few gulps of orange juice out of the carton count as your breakfast. Looking to the calendar stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you point on today’s date.
“Happy birthday, me,” you mumble.
A pair of arms grab you from behind, picking you up off the floor. You yelp out in surprise.
“Happy birthday!” John B cheers.
Laughing, you let him shake you before returning you safely to the floor. Turning around, you find John B digging about in his short pockets. He retrieves a small, wrapped package and hands it to you.
“Happy sweet seventeenth.”
“The big one-seven,” you reply, thanking him.
You uncover a small pendant necklace made of sterling silver. It’s shaped like the North Carolina state. Lips moving, you give a small breath of admiration, stunned at its simple beauty.
“You like it?” he checks. You get the sense that he doesn’t buy a lot of jewellery. Looking up, you feel tears sting at your eyes. Throwing your arms around your older brother’s shoulders, you hug him.
“I love it. Thank you.”
“Course. I figured that way you always have a piece of Kildare with you,” John B says.
It’s a bittersweet sentiment. There’s only a month left of your stay in Kildare. Colorado and your life there looms like a storm cloud in the future, warning of an unavoidable downpour.
You pass the necklace to him. “Will you?”
As you turn, pulling your hair up and out the way, John B loops the necklace around your neck. When its secured, you drop your hair and turn back to him.
“How do I look?”
“Like a Pogue,” he grins.
You squeeze him in another hug before letting him grab some breakfast.
JJ doesn’t answer his phone. He doesn’t reply to texts or pick up calls. It’s frustrating as hell. You keep checking your phone as you shower, as you dress and as you do your make-up. As you finish putting on mascara, it starts to buzz. You don’t even check the caller ID: you just answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh, so you are alive.”
Mom.
You can’t speak. Can’t find enough air in your lungs to formulate words. Even if you could, nothing comes to mind. Nothing.
“Hello? Are you there?”
“I’m here,” you manage out.
“Well I guess I should say happy birthday.”
It’s incredible how such a sweet statement sounds bitter on her tongue.
“Thanks,” you reply.
“So, I’m guessing you must have been pretty busy this summer. That’s the only way to explain the radio silence since you left,” she says.
“Mom, I—”
“I’m talking now. Not you.”
You swallow. Thank God you skipped breakfast: you feel sick to your stomach.
“When are you coming back home?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She laughs. “Well, you have to come back sometime.”
“Says who?” you snap.
There’s a tense silence. “Says me.”
You don’t speak. Suddenly, JJ’s stupid idea of running away seems incredible smart.
“I’m staying in Kildare for at least another month,” you tell her.
“At least?”
“Yes. At least.”
“And then what? You’re going to become a nomad? Hitchhike around the country?”
“And then…Then it’s none of your concern. It won’t be your problem; it’ll be mine.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” your mom says, tone sharp like broken glass. “You’re coming home the minute the summer ends.”
Your patience twists into something dark and unfamiliar. Rage clouds your vision and your mind.
“Home? Is that what you call that place? Because Colorado hasn’t felt like home to me ever, mom. Ever.”
“You’re making a big thing—”
“No, I’m not,” you snap. Getting to your feet, you begin to pace the room. “You don’t even want me there! You just want my money. You don’t want me. You don’t even pay attention to me!”
“I’m busy trying to keep us alive,” you mom argues.
“Alive? Is that what you call it?” You can’t help but laugh. “If that’s ‘alive’, mom, then I don’t want it.”
“Just…Look, we’re just saying things, alright? You can come home, and we can talk, and we can work things out,” she says, sounding more human.
But you can’t believe it. Can’t trust it. It’s like a glass that’s been broken over and over again. You can glue it together, keeping most of the pieces in place, but it’ll never be as beautiful as it was before. Your mom is forever tainted in your mind. The damage is already done.
Pressing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. “I’m staying here, mom.”
She begins to say your name, but you cut her off.
“I’m staying in Kildare. I’m staying here with John B, and JJ, and Kiara. They’re taking care of me. I’m okay. I’m eating, and I’m earning money, and I’m safe. But I can’t come back to Colorado. Not until Rick leaves…”
You feel your lower lip tremble.
“And not until you get clean.”
She’s silent for a minute. A long, long minute.
“And what if I don’t want you to stay in Kildare?” she asks. Her voice is quiet when she says it, like she’s powerless. And maybe she is.
It doesn’t feel good when you reply, “then I’ll report you and Rick to the cops, for child neglect and drug dealing.”
When people play chess, there’s a certain moment that the game is won. Check and mate. It’s a strategy game. You feel the moment your mom realises she’s lost. Your final piece takes position, and she’s rendered useless. She can either surrender - and let you stay in Kildare without complaint or contest - or force your hand to knock her off the board with a quick phone call to the police.
“And you’re safe?” she whispers.
Your heart splinters. It wasn’t her fault she got addicted, but it was her fault that she wasn’t there for you when you needed her most. They say time heals all wounds and you pray that to be true.
“I’m safe,” you assure her, voice wavering.
She doesn’t speak for a few seconds.
Then, quietly, she says, “well, happy birthday. Just…don’t ignore me like that again. I need to know that you’re okay.”
You nod. The tears start to fall and you press your lips together. “Okay, mom. I’ll text you. I promise.”
Through a shaky breath, you feel the three words form on your tongue. Three words that you haven’t said to her since you left North Carolina. But before they can pass through your lips, she clicks off the line without another word. You let out a pained sob. It’s so strange to get everything you ever wanted, and nothing that you wanted at all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Your birthday passes by in a blink.
After the phone call with your mom, you sobbed for an hour. John B came knocking and held you through it, and when you asked if it was okay for you stay for the foreseeable future, he seemed more than ecstatic. All we have is each other, now. There’s something strangely tethering about trauma.
Pope and Kiara came around in the early afternoon. She’d made the most incredible birthday cake. Sage green buttercream frosting with edible flowers arranged around the rim. In the centre it had 17 written in white icing. They sang happy birthday and lit the candles, and as you blew them out, you wished for JJ to show up. Apparently, nobody had heard from him lately. It filled your stomach with led.
After asking what you wanted to do, the four of you relaxed in the backyard. It was an excuse to drink and listen to music. Pope discussed the latest book he read with you as you rocked in the hammock. John B began to talk about the Royal Merchant. He’d seemingly become more and more enthralled in the shipwreck. Whilst you’d been at work, covering shifts for people affected by the hurricane, they’d been pursuing the whole Grady-white shipwreck. Turns out, it was all connected to the royal merchant and Big John. You weren’t sure how you felt about that revelation. The group also seemed to be dubious. So, when Kie fell into a discussion about the treasure hunt with your older brother, you happily tuned it out.
Around seven, Kie and Pope left. John B seemed pretty exhausted so he said he was going to get an early night. You agreed and trudged into your room, but sleep wouldn’t come no matter how drained you felt. As per routine, at ten, you slip into your crocs and head into the living room, sights set on the porch. You stop short. The porch light filters into the main bulk of the room.
“JJ,” you whisper to yourself.
Walking out, opening the door, you find him on the couch. For once, he’s facing the doorway. He looks up from his lighter that he’s been messing with and meets your gaze. At the sight of his lips twitching up at the corners, you break into a smile and rush over. Practically wrestle him into a hug. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you. The way he holds you feel holy. Two days apart and you felt like you were having withdrawal.
“Happy to see me?”
“Where the hell have you been?” you ask into his t-shirt.
He pulls away. You sit on his lap, looking down at him, surveying his face for injuries.
“I got roped into some shit with my dad,” he says.
“He didn’t…”
You can’t bring yourself to ask, but your hand outstretching, tracing his features for some sign of pain, finishes the question.
He shakes his head, taking your hand from his face to intertwine it with his own.
“No, no. Just had to keep him busy, really. Helped out at the harbour and shit. Dropped my phone in the water like a dumbass.”
Ah. That explains the radio silence.
JJ smiles up at you. “Anyway. I’ve back now.”
“Good,” you say. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” he mumbles.
One of his hands reaches up to play with a strand of your hair. He lets it go, it falls into the mess atop of your head, and he traces his fingers down your body before resting at your hip. All the while, JJ stares at you, taking you in like he’s taking in an eclipse. Like you’re something that deserves to be admired.
“Happy birthday,” he says.
You smile, bright like a supernova. “Thanks.”
“Good day?”
You’re not sure how to tell him about the greatest gift of all: your mom letting you stay in Kildare. So, you just nod dumbly. JJ picks the pendent of your necklace off your skin, inspecting it.
“Who got you this? It’s pretty.”
“My mistress,” you joke.
He rolls his eyes.
“John B.”
“It’s pretty,” he repeats, letting it sit against your skin once more. He lets his touch linger against your sternum. God, you missed him. “Kie’s cake good?”
“Mhm. There’s some left in the kitchen. I’ll get us some,” you say.
You move to climb off him to retrieve a couple of slices but JJ grabs at your hips, keeping you in place and capturing your attention once more.
“Gotta give you your gift first.”
JJ leans down to retrieve your present from under the sofa where he’s stashed it. He hands it to you, a brown paper parcel finished with garden string, with a foreign nervous smile on his face.
“I hope they’re the right ones.”
Confused by what he might mean, you begin to open it. The brown paper crinkles in your hands as you unwrap your present. A small, elated gasp falls out your mouth as you lay your eyes on a set of Winsor and Newton watercolour paints. You trace a finger over the silver tin as if to prove you aren’t hallucinating.
“You like ‘em?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
Winsor and Newton paints. The worlds that you can illustrate flash through your mind, igniting your imagination in ways that you haven’t experienced for years. You feel a quivering smile, overwhelmed with emotion for the paints and for the boy who bestowed them upon you, and look up. He’s smiling, watching you, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck.
“I love them. Thank you, JJ.”
His arms wrap safely around your middle, pulling you against him in the embrace. You move your lips to his, sighing as you finally reconnect through the kiss. When you break apart, only a hair’s width between your mouth and his, you feel those same words from earlier today fly up and through you.
“I love you.”
You say it quiet and private, like a prayer.
His eyes falter to meet your own. There’s a nervous breath as he takes in your declaration.
“I love you too,” he breathes.
As you kiss, you feel your heart melt into liquid gold. For once in your life, things feel as though they’re falling into place. The rough brush of JJ’s tongue prying into your mouth has you tilting your head. You let him imbibe you. You treasure the way his rough hands, worn from work on the harbour, slip under your t-shirt. His touch is cold against your burning skin.
“What the fuck.”
Fool’s gold.
You startle at the interruption, head spinning to find John B stood on the porch. He’s gaping at you and JJ like he may have just seen a ghost. Disbelief and horror shadow his face.
“John…” you choke.
His eyes flit from you, from your lips, to JJ. To his hand still under your shirt. To his hand planted securely on your hip. To how you’re sat in his lap. To your own tethered into his hair. To your own wrapped lovingly around his neck. It’s as incriminating as finding a murderer holding the knife above a dead body. No excuse, no justification. Nothing. No alibi can save you now. It’s a clean and shut case.
“What the fuck is going on?” John B mutters. His thoughts seem to be catching up with him second by second. His chest begins to rise, anger flaring his veins, and his expression hardens. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Look, man, just—”
But your brother strides over and practically rips JJ out from under you. You hear yourself scream out as he shoves JJ onto the porch floor, landing a hard punch into his jaw. JJ takes the hits, doesn’t even try to fight back, only fumbles to try and push John B off him. You start to scream like a hysteric. Shriek for him to stop. Beg for him to. You grapple at John B’s shirt, trying to pull him off your boyfriend, as he lands hit after hit. The sound is sickening, of flesh hitting flesh. You feel tears fall down your cheeks in panic as he refuses to let up.
“Get off him, John!” you screech.
Finally, you pull him off. The two of you tumble to the floor.
JJ turns onto his side, coughing and spitting out blood, groaning in pain. He lifts a finger to dap at his lip, wincing as he draws it back to find it red. You go to help him, to check that there’s no lasting damage, but John B holds you back. He moves towards his best friend once more but you grab at his shirt.
“John, please don’t,” you blubber, trying to keep him away.
He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath to try and calm his rage. Then, he turns his head to you. The betrayal in his eyes makes you sob.
The sound of JJ’s groans has the attention back on him. He’s struggling to his knees, a hand coming to cradle his jaw.
“Shit, JB. You can throw a hell of a punch,” JJ mutters. He spits out more blood. It makes you cringe.
JJ gets to his feet. John B follows. You can’t find strength to get off the floor. Your eyes are transfixed for a while on the pool of blood where JJ laid.
“You promised me,” John B seethes.
You look up and finally muster the courage to stand. You watch as JJ looks to you. Can see how he wants to grab you and console you just like he used to when you were a child. Just like he did when you fell out of the tree. But his better judgement makes him decide against it.
“It’s not what it looks like, alright?” JJ tries, voice steady.
“Not what it looks like? What? You groping my little sister isn’t what it looks like?” John B barks.
JJ scowls. “I wasn’t groping her. And she’s hardly your little sister. You’re less than a year older than her!”
That pisses your brother off more. He takes a step towards JJ but you reach an arm out, stopping him.
“She’s vulnerable, JJ.”
You frown. Offense stings in your heart. Does he really think you so defenceless? So incapable of judging others for yourself?
“She’s seventeen, John B. She can make her own choices without you making them for her,” JJ argues. “She knows what’s in her best interest.”
“Oh? And you’re her best interest?” John B scoffs.
JJ’s gaze darkens. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
No. No, this is not helping. It’s only making matters worse.
“You know what I mean! You fuck a new girl every other week! You can’t keep your fingers off other people’s shit, you lie like you’ve been doing it since day one—”
“John-”
Your quiet plea goes ignored. John B takes another challenging step towards JJ. You can’t hold him back. He’s stronger than you. They both are.
“You’re gonna end up in a cell just like your dad and leave my sister as collateral when you get bored of sleeping with a girl whose been in love with you since she was a kid.”
JJ’s fist hits John B square on the cheek. John B hurls his own punch and they end up in some messy wrestle. They fall onto the coffee table and fumble out weak throws. Fear for what may happen to either of them makes you act with stupidity. You dart forward and try to pry them off one another. Somewhere in the chaos, a stray punch hits you in the nose. Pain blinds you. You yelp and fall backwards against the couch, hands flying up to your face. They stop. JJ utters your name.
When you pull your shaking hand away, you find it soaked with blood. Your chest heaves with panic as the pain sets in. JJ shoves John B off and comes to your side.
“S’alright, s’alright,” he soothes.
You’re not like JJ. You don’t take hits like it’s your day job. You’ve never been punched in your life. The last major injury you sustained was your broken arm, back when you were thirteen. Sobbing in pain, you feel yourself panic at the sight of flowing blood.
“S’okay. Lean forward, alright? You gotta lean forward,” JJ instructs.
He shifts you so you’re sitting on the floor, back against the sofa. You let him guide your fingers to the bridge of your nose and pinch at the soft skin. There’s the distant sound of John B rushing into the house. You don’t see it, though. Your eyes are pressed shut to not look at the blood.
“You feel okay?”
“I feel sick,” you mumble. And not just from the nosebleed.
“S’alright. It’ll stop soon,” JJ reassures.
He strokes your back lovingly, dragging your hair off your face as your head bows forward. You choke on the metallic taste that trickles into your other senses. God, everything is a mess.
“Here, here,” John B mutters.
You crack open your eyes to see him drop to his knees beside you. He hands JJ a towel. JJ lifts it to your nose, wiping some of the blood off your skin before holding it steady below your nostrils. It soaks with blood.
“Shit, should she be bleeding that much?” John B asks JJ.
“She’ll be fine,” JJ snaps. He probably doesn’t want to freak you out more. “It’s normal.”
And, eventually, after two towels are soaked, the blood flow slows to a stop.
“I think it’s stopped,” JJ mumbles.
You let him remove the towel. It feels risky to sniff. The smell and taste of blood is consuming and makes you feel nauseous. Tentatively, you try lifting your head. JJ and John B are staring at you. They’re nothing less than concerned.
“How do I look?” you croak.
JJ tries to fight it but fails. He sniggers, then John B does, and you find your own smile. Then the three of you are laughing like you’re drunk.
“That bad, huh?”
“Never looked hotter,” JJ lies through his laughter.
“Yeah…this isn’t your best look,” John B comments.
When the humour passes, you shake your head and look to John B. Like a storm at sea, his anger seems to have passed, not a sign that it was ever there on his face. JJ’s calmed down too. You know they’ll have to talk it out, the things John B said to him, but words said in fury are usually far from true. Cheap shots to try and hit JJ where it hurts. Brothers fight.
“I’m sorry we kept it a secret from you,” you say to John B.  
His eyes slip shut like your apology pains him. Like you’re applying balm to his fresh wounds. Sighing, he opens them to ask, “how long has it been happening?”
You and JJ share a look. He clears his throat before answering. “About a month. Maybe a bit longer.”
“It started the third week after I came to Kildare,” you clarify.
John B exhales with disbelief. “No. No, that can’t be true.” Before you try and explain further, he’s looking to JJ. “You can’t keep your mouth shut for a whole fucking month.”
JJ cracks up. A smile creeps onto your face too. “I think it’s a new record, man, honestly.”
“Yeah, congrats,” John B grunts, rolling his eyes.
“We just didn’t want to tell you cause we know things have been weird since your dad went missing, and you’ve sort of been hooked on this Royal Merchant thing,” you say to your brother.
“And cause you sort of told me to specifically not date your sister,” JJ meekly tags on.
John B sends him a damning look. JJ cringes. “I mean, I’ve never been good at doing as I’m told so this is kinda on you. Just partly.”
“Careful,” John B warns.
You grab for your brother’s hand. A stray stream of blood slips from your nose and JJ lifts the towel to wipe it away. John B meets your gaze.
“We’re not just fooling around,” you say. As his brows knit together, you spare a glance to JJ as if trying to muster up courage. “I love him.”
John’s mouth falls open. You might as well have just told him you’re pregnant. He looks to JJ as if needing some clarification, and he just nods and shrugs, his expression something close to yep, it’s true.
“I just wish you guys told me,” John B eventually tells you. Then, laughing, he adds, “and how long were you even planning on keeping this up?”
“Well...We hadn’t really got that far,” JJ fumbles, scratching the back of his neck.
You all share a laugh. John B nods and looks between the two of you. Like a pill he must swallow, he accepts his fate. You’re not proud, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Taking the risk with JJ was the best choice you ever made.
“I don’t love it,” John B says. Then, with a pained sigh, he adds, “but I’ll get used to it.”
You and JJ immediately lock eyes; smiles of relief and elation sparking to life.
“But you hurt her, and I’ll lay you out,” John B warns JJ, in a stereotypical brotherly fashion.
JJ nods. He seems to know now that John B will uphold that promise to the highest degree. “Scout’s honour,” he swears, crossing his heart and holding up three fingers.
John B looks to your once more and offers you a hand. He helps you off the floor.
“Jeez. What a birthday. You found out you get to stay in Kildare and have a nosebleed all in one day.”
“Wait, what?” JJ barks.
Your head darts around to the blonde-haired boy.
“You’re staying in Kildare?”
Realisation dawns upon you. In the pandemonium, you’d forgotten to tell him. A sheepish smile settles on your face. “Oh yeah, um…I have some news.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Your bedroom door swings open as Kiara sings out, “morning lovebirds!”
JJ groans from beside you at the wake-up call. You crack open your eyes through the streaming sunlight and look to the doorway. John B’s head pops into view.
“Get up! We’re recovering a shipwreck!” he adds.
Kie grabs a sock from the floor and tosses it at your boyfriend.
“Get up,” she repeats.
The door slams shut and you chuckle, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. JJ stirs from beside you. You feel his finger reach out to prod your cheek.
“Mornin’,” he rasps.
You look over to him, smiling sleepily. “Morning.”
“Sleep okay?”
“Like a Goddamn baby,” you grin.
He smiles at that. Sighing and groaning and making all kinds of fuss, JJ stretches in bed.
The two of you gradually emerge from your room. It’s hard to get dressed when your boyfriend keeps grabbing at your hips, sucking hickeys into your neck, stealing your bikini bottoms. There’s a persistent knocking at the door every five minutes from each of the Pogues, telling you to quit macking and get ready.
You wolf down breakfast at the dinner table, mulling over your latest painting. It’s of JJ’s back, arguably your favourite feature of him, when he used to sleep on the pull-out sofa. The room is bathed in moonbeams, bed made up of messy plaid blankets and mismatching pillows. The new paints make everything feel so lifelike and vivid. You’re debating adding faint pink lines to represent scratch marks on his back….
“Come on! We gotta go!” John B declares, drumming on your head as he passes you to the front door.
JJ finishes your Poptart as you text your mom a quick update for the day, and then the two of you join the Pogues in the Twinkie. He hooks an arm over your shoulder, holding you against him as you sit in the back with Pope. They fall into a debate about the scientific benefits of weed (JJ is, no surprise, in favour) whilst Kie and John B discuss tactics for finding the Royal Merchant. As you rest against your boyfriend, you smile and close your eyes. You finally found your home. You found it in Kildare.
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reyzxzc · 2 days
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The Proposal
summary: nico proposes to riley.
contains: cussing (it’s in all of my writings), fluff, crying, instagram.
————
december 20, 2023.
riley sat with her family and nico at the lake house in michigan. nico didn’t get a flight out to switzerland for christmas this year.
the hughes family was being quiet, like they knew something. everyone but riley. riley felt at a loss, not knowing why everyone was being weird around her.
“okay, someone tell me why everyone is acting so strange.” riley said. nico kissed her head. “no one’s acting strange, my love.”
riley rolled her eyes. “shut up.” riley placed her finger over his lips. “i don’t know what your talking about, my dear sister.” luke shrugged.
jack leaned over the counter, he was the only one who couldn’t keep a secret in their family. “jack.” nico mouthed to him.
jack groaned. “riley, can you um.. come skate with me?” jack asked. this was apart of nico’s plan to propose. “why can’t you just do it with luke or quinn?” riley asked.
“because i miss my sister, is that a problem?” jack asked. “okay.” riley said. jack smiled. riley kissed nico on the cheek and grabbed her coat.
jack opened the door and they walked out to the outdoor rink and put on their skates.
jack and riley got on the ice. “why’d you wanna skate, jack?” riley asked. “i love my big sister, what’s the problem with that?” jack asked, grabbing her hand.
riley hummed. “so no surprise?” riley asked. “no.” jack shook his head. riley hugged jack, kissing his head. jack hugged her back. he was loosing his sister more and more everyday. nico was proposing today.
jack didn’t ever wanna let go. he loves nico, yes. but he doesn’t love loosing his sister. jack has always been an older sisters boy. he would always go to riley when he needed something.
he can’t do that anymore. she’s gonna get married.
“jack?” riley said. jack hummed in response. “you getting tears on my shirt.” riley whispered. “what?” jack wasn’t even aware he was crying.
“sorry. must’ve just got lost in my thought.” jack wiped his tears. “no it’s okay.”
————
riley and jack walked back inside. “i’ll make some hot coco.” riley said, walking to the kitchen. “okay.” jack nodded, sitting on the couch in front of the tv, turning on a christmas movie.
riley made two cups of hot coco and handed one to jack. jack leaned into his sister. “i’m happy for you. i want you to know that, ry. i know i wasn’t at first but i am know.” jack said.
“i know buddy. never in my entire life would i thing you aren’t happy for me.” riley said. jack smiled. “what are we watching?” riley asked. “polar express.” jack smiled.
————
later that day, the table was set and everyone was eating. “um riley.” nico said. “yea?” riley asked, putting her fork down.
nico cleared his throat, which made riley cringe. nico got down one knee. riley gave him a look. nico pulled a ring out of his pocket.
“riley dakota hughes, the past year and a half has been the best off my life. it may seem a little early but i love you, more than anything else in this world. riley, would you do the honors and marry me?” nico asked.
riley nodded. “yes.” riley said. nico let out a sigh, and placed the ring on her finger. nico stood up, riley doing the same. riley hugged him, tightly.
nice kissed her when she pulled away from the hug.
“let’s pop some champagne!” ellen cheered. riley laughed and wiped her eyes. “none for you luke.” riley said. “not even an exception?” luke pouted. riley shook her head.
————
riley_hughes just posted
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riley_hughes:
caption: and we’re engaged. i’ve spent countless hours trying to figure out the way to word this. but the only thing that comes to mind is i love you. because that’s all i know. i love you nico. here’s to forever.
tagged// nicohischier
comments:
comments are limited
jackhughes: riley’s all grown up :,)
- riley_hughes: i’m older then you, jack.
lhughes_06: okay wtf, where’s the ‘luke took this photo’??
- riley_hughes: you didn’t tho…
nicohischier: 🫶🏻
- riley_hughes: 🌷
_quinnhughes: that should he me 😔 getting married 😔 that should be me marrying nico😔
- riley_hughes: .
————
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armchairaleck · 1 year
Text
Sadly for me I have come to the end of my writing ideas for one shot stories which means I am now faced with the unpalatable dilemma of trying to actually write and finish one of my long fic ideas, and this level of commitment fills with me with existential dread.. well actually I think other shit does that and I write to try and forget the yawning chasm that opens up beneath me, but oh well, never mind eh…
I currently have four multi-chapter WIP ideas all of which exist in various degrees of very unfinished states on my hard drive, none of which I’m certain I can complete, but even so, I will outline them below, I will ponder them, I will be totally open to any suggestions that probably no one has..
Viren Origin Fic
Okay so my TDP original idea was always to write Viren’s background and relationship with Harrow from around age 13/14 right up to the start of the show... the main problem with this is - all the known cannon stuff seems to squeeze everything into about 8-10 years in the middle, while leaving the decades on either side of his marriage up until the magma titan debacle like a blank void of stuff I would have to make up and get totally wrong - due to my blinkers with Viren, my desire to make the world a lot darker than it’s probably supposed to be, and my unshakable belief that Harrow and Viren’s friendship becomes a twisted and suffocating vine that sucks them both into the pit of their own poor moral morasses.. but is also all they have.. and it’s sad..
So the plus side of this - I just really kinda love to explore the Viren/Harrow, Viren & Kpp’Ar, Viren/Lissa relationships, along with Sarai… I also love the slow descent of Viren from carefree boy, to loving dad to errr… not loving dad?
Down side – I could start writing this and find it is totally blown out of the water by the new cannon that will appear this summer and that often derails me, because while I am absolutely able to misread a character and their motivations and level of evil intent, like a fucking pony prancing around a field on a spring day.. I can get oddly OCD about additions to story cannon that mean this could very easily get destroyed and then I would have utterly wasted my time… also there are A LOT of missing pieces to fill in..
Viravos dead souls fic
Urgh, following on from this.. I also thought I could round it off with some vaguely cannon Viren/Aaravos.. um.. two years dead lost souls fic.. that could also be a stand alone. So for some reason my brain did not go down the horny Aaravos emerging from the cocoon s3/s4 gap fic, that people might actually want to read, and instead went to the hey.. what if Aaravos had to give the traumatised soul of Viren two years of therapy, in space, while his body lies on earth stitched in stasis.. anyway, it’s basically a lot of moping and angst between a middle aged man regretting all his life choices and a near eternal elf who has been irreversibly psychologically damaged by 300 years of solitary confinement.. fun times? This is not.. I also want to give them an unrealistic level of softness here because I'm pretty sure Viren will get no happy ending and I want him to have something.. I’m a sap and I have to just deal with this sad fact..
The plus side of this - I guess.. oh.. I don’t even know if there is a plus side.. people might want to read it? Until they discover that for an E rated fic it will really offer them nothing at all.. just slightly traumatised bad sex.. well, haha, that’s all my E rated fic to be fair…
Downside - I cannot really write Viravos to save my life.. meh..
Viren/Kpp’Ar Gothic AU
Alright, I switched this to gothic for more historical leeway and more opportunities for brooding, crazy mansions, resurrection and ghosts in the attic.. anyway.. this is a time when humans have fucked the world up even more fully, when they have destroyed nearly all magical components and dark mages are a dying breed of unhinged self-destructive maniacs that make Jack Parsons look sane.. I have a vague outline for this stitched out that I will probably expound upon in a different post, it’s pretty dumb and deranged and exists mostly so I can write some Viren and Kpp’Ar together..
Plus side of this – I mean despite the fact I’m patchy on the historical details I do love me a bit of gothic - brusque anti-social Kpp’Ar energy, mixed with Viren channelling his inner hysterical lady vibes… (just kidding olden days hysterical girls with smelling salts, you could never be as overwrought as Viren gets in front of a mirror..)
Minus side – this is literally as ridiculous as it sounds, there would be A LOT of plot I would have to write to fill inbetween the main beats, and I would probably have to do a lot of research.. watching old black and white horror films and reading the first 100 pages of gothic novels that I’ll simply forget to finish.. sigh.. okay maybe I’ll do the research and forget the writing..
Cyberpunk AU
Welp.. despite the last one, this is probably the most insane of all my ideas and exists solely because I wanted to ship Viren with Ibis… What? Why did I want to do this? I have literally no idea, except that often for some reason my brain will think.. oh.. I wonder what would happen if those two completely incompatible characters that have no way to actually get together in cannon met up and had a fuckin ridiculous and unlikely relationship that literally no one else in the whole world would care about?
So despite the fact that I know I don’t have a quarter of the world building chops necessary to actually write this, I have thought about it quite a lot..
Dumb things this AU contains:
A physical border between human kingdoms and Xadia where armies are constantly lined up in a don’t blink first cold war scenario…
An online version of the breach that separates the shitty human commodore 64 8-bit level of technology from the apple mac in 100 years sleek levels of advancement the Xadians have achieved..
That humans, god bless their ingenuity, have discovered a way to hook into, in order to try and steal the technology of the five nexus powers and boost themselves out of the depressing state of their own existence..
Defection from Xadia to the human kingdoms by various elves who have grown tired of the 1984 levels of state surveillance imposed on them by the dragons.. and who now work with the humans as primal jumpers, i.e. those who can get into the breach naturally..
Dark jumpers, who are social pariahs with both humans and elves and destroy everything they touch.. as per cannon..
Zero magic in the human kingdoms because they’re so awful of course they’ve destroyed it all, they rely on the dirt and smog of fossil fuels, while Xadia is renewable and magical all the way, but also under the grip of dictatorial state control.. seems like you just can’t have it all eh..
Just the whisper of Aarovos existing out there somewhere in the online breach like Jeff Bridges in Tron Legacy…
Weird pseudo sex pollen stuff that I would really have to remove to stop a decent into pure insanity..
Um.. drugs.. this is cyberpunk and the ONLY cyberpunk type stuff I have read is either by Philip K Dick or is Neuromancer… which means I figure cyber punk just has to involve a heinous amount of drug taking, which is probably inappropriate for a kids cartoon fic..
Alright, this makes total sense in my head but I am aware that trying to write it down makes it sound pretty nuts..
Plus sides – none?
Minus sides – I think those have all be listed above… so I should probably leave this here…
Alright, that's all I have thought about, which is probably for the best..
Honestly I do not know what to do here, maybe work on everything concurrently and finish nothing.. maybe do nothing.. maybe try and learn to draw better so I don’t have to worry so much about writing and plot and pacing and world building.. maybe wait for the sweet inspiration for a one shot of below 15k words to hit me..
..and yet I feel compelled to write SOMETHING.. which sorta sucks..
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thebibliosphere · 7 months
Text
So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
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ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
Text
When Nobody's Around
luke castellan x reader
capture the flag pt 2!
A/N: not me keeping my promises and posting three days in a row
TW: so much smut omg, throat-fucking, pussy slapping, cockwarming, overstim
word count: 1,225 words
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After what happened with Luke the other day, you need to do something to cool off, to get your mind off of it. Training is the perfect thing. You make your way down to the grounds with Clarisse. Your half-sister is the perfect person to train with because she fights so hard that it gives you no chance to think.
“Fuck.” You murmur. You’re already there when you realize you forgot something. “I have to go back for my sneakers.” 
“Don’t take too long, dumbass.” She smirks and you roll your eyes before jogging back to your cabin. It’s so weird because you could’ve sworn on your life that you had brought them.
You shake off the feeling and open the cabin door. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, all your siblings are training and whatnot. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not  Luke Castellan who is sitting on your bed, holding your sneakers.
What. The. Fuck.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states, giving you an easygoing grin.
“Get out of my cabin.”
“No.”
“Not only are you not meant to be in here, I also don’t want you here.” Your voice is angry as you walk towards him.
“I think you do.”
You scoff. “Stop acting like you know me.” 
He gives you a sly smile. “But I do know you… very intimately.”
“If you’re here for another hookup, it’s not going to happen.” You say adamantly.
He stands up, walking towards you. You hate the way he towers over your smaller body. “I’m actually here to apologize.” 
“Apologize?” You ask doubtingly, not really thinking he was the type.
“Yeah.” His hands fall to your waist. You don’t shove him off right away, waiting to see where this all goes. “I was very rough with you before.” His hand slides up to hold your chin, thumbing your lip. “Maybe I wanted to be more gentle this time? Get down on my knees and eat you nice and slow.”
“I can’t stand you.” You breathe out as his hand ghosts down, rubbing over your breast.
“You’re such a damn brat.” He gives you a squeeze. “I thought I fucked that out of you last time but apparently not.”
You want to come up with some clever retort but all you can do is whimper in response.
“Now, how about you get on your knees and if you suck me well enough maybe, just maybe, i’ll get you off.”
You drop to your knees. You hate to admit it but you like the way he talks to you. No other guy has enough confidence to try and put you in your place.
“What a submissive little slut.” He coos as he grips your hair with one hand.
“I’ll bite your cock off.” You say as you unzip his jeans, tugging them down.
“We both know that would be more of a loss for you than me.” He chuckles at how your eyes widen when he pulls his dick out. He may have been inside of you but you never actually saw how big he is. “Suck it.”
You glare but take him in your mouth as far back as you can. You gag when the tip of him touches the back of your throat.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on my cock.” He murmurs as he begins to thrust into your mouth languidly. Your eyes water as you try to suck him off but it’s more like being throat-fucked instead with the way he grips your hair to pull your head back and forth. He gives a little slap to your cheek. “No teeth.” He warns as he continues to use your mouth like he pleases.
You’re surprised when he pulls out before finishing. “You can swallow my cum another time. I plan on keeping my promises.”
When you’re on your feet, Luke pulls you into a kiss. He taps your ass once so you jump, letting him hold you as he walks you back to your bed. He parts his lips from yours, placing you down so you sit on the edge of your bed.
“It’s your turn to get on your knees.” You say cheekily.
“Don’t go acting like you’re in charge.” He says but kneels anyhow. “I’m not opposed to giving that ass a few more smacks.” You shift a bit at the comment as he pulls off your pants. “Oh, maybe you’d like that.”
“I wouldn’t.” You lie as he yanks down your panties, revealing how wet you are.
“No?” He asks, amused before laying a harsh smack to your cunt. You drip out more arousal. “Liar.” He murmurs before digging in.
His hands hold tight to your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. It’s stimulating too much and just the right amount all at once. You begin to whine and try to squirm away but he keeps you firmly in place with his strong hands as he laps up your arousal.
“Better than fucking ambrosia.” He looks up, grinning like a devil before nipping at your clit. Your hand is in his hair now, pulling tightly as you’re so close… so close and then… he stops.
“Luuuke…” You whine in frustration.
“Sorry, baby but you’re gonna cum around my cock.”
He picks you up like you weigh nothing and throws you back further on the bed before shifting his body between your legs. He uses his dick to tease your clit and you whimper.
“Please, Luke.” You beg, looking at him with doe eyes.
“Look at you, so pretty as you beg to be fucked. I’ll give you what you want.” His words are so lewd but his voice is so gentle.
He slips himself inside of you in one go, once again not caring about you adjusting. Though, he exercises a bit more restraint this time, not moving quite yet. He at least wants you to be able to walk somewhat well after this. He leans down to kiss your neck, leaving love bites that you'll have to explain later before he actually starts to give you what you need. He begins to thrust, trying to avoid acting like a rabid dog even if he knows you like it.
“You’re so fucking tight. Never had such a tiny little pussy before.” The way you squeeze around him has him throwing all decorum out the window. He begins to fuck into you like this is the last chance he’ll get.
“Mmm Luke, harder.” You beg.
“Fucking slut.” He says with a grin before slinging your leg over his shoulder so he can piston into you deeper.
“Want you… to cum… inside.” The words have him going feral. He uses his thumb to rub your clit, making you spasm under him.
“Is that all it takes? Barely even had to touch your sweet pearl.” You cream around his cock and he fucks you through it. The overstimulation has you seeing stars but after a few moments, his thrusts finally begin to slow. He stills and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim until it spills out.
He slumps down on you, pressing tired kisses to your collarbone as he lets you cockwarm him.
“Want me to go?” He asks. 
It should be an easy answer. You should say yes.
“No… stay.” 
And he smiles.
taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread
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lovelettersfromluna · 6 months
Text
The Summoning
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summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?
an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)
warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!
You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!
A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.
God you hated the holidays.
Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.
So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.
Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.
After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.
You looked damn fucking good on camera.
And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.
Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.
So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.
And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.
Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.
But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.
It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.
And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.
In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.
Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.
You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.
As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.
“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.
It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.
But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.
You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.
Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.
You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.
“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.
She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.
You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.
You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.
Damn her for being so fucking hot.
Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.
You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.
She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.
You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.
You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.
Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.
But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.
You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.
"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.
Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.
The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.
You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.
Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.
You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.
Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.
You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.
You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.
She’s looking at you.
And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.
But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.
But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.
This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.
If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.
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When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.
So yeah, you’re probably just tired.
You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.
You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.
Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.
Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.
But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.
There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.
And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?
Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.
“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.
“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.
But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.
You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.
“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.
You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.
“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.
“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.
She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.
That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.
Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.
Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.
You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.
Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.
“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.
Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.
‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.
You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.
Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.
“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.
All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.
“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.
You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.
Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.
“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”
This catches you off guard.
Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.
You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.
“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.
“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.
“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.
And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.
They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.
“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.
“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.
Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.
You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.
“Strip” she ordered.
Fuck.
You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.
“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.
After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.
You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.
And so were you.
When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.
Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.
You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.
“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.
“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.
“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.
Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.
As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.
The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.
“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.
You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.
“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.
You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.
“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.
Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.
Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.
You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.
The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.
You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.
“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.
Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.
You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.
But alas, it never lasted long enough.
You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.
You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.
You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.
“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.
“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.
“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.
Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.
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You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.
You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.
The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.
No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.
And that scared you.
Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…
The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.
You realized, you needed this date.
So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.
The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.
And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.
Right?
You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.
Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.
It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.
You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.
You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.
You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…
Leaving Ellie for the night.
All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.
But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-
Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.
She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.
“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.
You feel sick to your fucking stomach.
Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.
You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.
“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.
You can’t fucking do this anymore.
You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.
“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.
But she does hear you.
Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.
“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?
The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.
You know it isn’t good.
Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.
“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.
Fuck.
You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.
And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.
Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.
You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.
But suddenly, your phone goes off.
You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.
She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.
“Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.
“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.
“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.
She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.
Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.
“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.
And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.
“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.
“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.
“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.
It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.
Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.
She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.
“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?
If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.
Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.
“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.
Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.
After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.
“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..
Because Ellie never left marks.
It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.
But clearly, that had all changed tonight.
There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.
Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.
You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.
You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.
“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.
You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.
You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.
“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.
“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.
Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.
You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.
You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.
You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.
Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.
And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.
She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.
“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.
She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.
You felt like you were dreaming.
All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.
Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.
She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.
“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.
And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…
But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..
Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.
Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.
Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.
“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.
You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.
And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.
Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.
Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.
Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.
“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.
Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.
“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.
“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.
And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.
Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.
The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…
And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..
Because she’s in love with you
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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 month
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on second thought | jww
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(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)
pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.
authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone
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Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 
That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.
“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 
“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 
“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.
“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 
“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 
“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 
“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 
This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 
“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.
“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 
Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 
The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 
“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.
“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.
“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 
“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.
“Uh, what?” you ask.
“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 
“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 
“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 
“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 
“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.
“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 
There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 
Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 
And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.
“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 
“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 
“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.
“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 
A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 
So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 
Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 
“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 
“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 
Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.
“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.
“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.
You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 
“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 
It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 
You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 
It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 
He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 
Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.
Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 
With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.
“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 
“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 
He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 
“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.
He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 
“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 
“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.
You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.
“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”
“Are you sure?” he asks. 
“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 
“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 
“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 
You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 
“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 
Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 
“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.
“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 
“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 
With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 
You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 
“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 
“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. 
It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 
When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 
Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 
When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.
“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him
“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 
His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 
You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.
“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.
“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.
“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 
You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 
“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 
“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.
You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 
“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.
“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 
“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.
“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.
“Next time?” you wonder.
“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 
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It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 
The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 
That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 
He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.
Until it doesn’t.
One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 
He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 
“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 
“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 
You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 
“Of course not,” he says. 
Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 
He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 
The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 
That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 
“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 
“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 
“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.
“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 
“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 
“I know,” you sigh. 
“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 
Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 
None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.
“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 
“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 
“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 
“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.
“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 
“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.
“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.
“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.
“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.
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It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 
There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 
“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 
“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 
He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 
“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 
He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 
“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 
“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.
“I just thought…” you start.
“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 
The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.
Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 
It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.
“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 
“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 
“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 
“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 
That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 
“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.
“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.
“Why should I?” you challenge. 
“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.
“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 
“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”
“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.
“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”
“To avoid me?” you supply. 
“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 
“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 
“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.
“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 
“About what?” he asks. 
“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 
You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 
You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 
When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 
“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 
“What’s that?” he asks.
“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.
“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 
“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 
“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.
That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 
“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 
You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 
“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 
“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 
“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 
“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.
“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 
Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”
“Okay,” you agree.
“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.
“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 
Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 
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i hope you enjoyed it! 💕
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lowkeyremi · 10 months
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Bakugo with the kids >:3 (bakugo x fem!reader)
This post was possible bc of @shima707 they commented on my bkg dad post for more so i decided to write more :D
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"Daddy, Shoko's cryin' again." Mayako says shaking her father. Katsuki usually sleeps in on Sundays with you by his side but for some reason he's waking up upon the fact that the newest addition to the family is crying.
"Where's mommy at? Tell her to get Shoko." He mumbles under the covers. Mayako gets off the bed to open the blackout curtains which causes Katsuki to groan loudly.
"I looked for mommy but she's not here!!" Katsuki perks up at those words, where could you be early on a Sunday morning?
"She's not here? That's weird, she woulda told me if she was goin' somewhere." Mayako glares at her father, it's actually pretty ironic. Katsuki feels like he's staring at himself.
Your blond husband rises from bed to brush his teeth, this was not how he imagined his day would start.
"Can you get one of Shoko's clean bottles off the rack, Maya?" he asks between brushes.
"Mommy already made a bottle for her its in the fridge left with a note to warm it up." Katsuki finds it strange that you left without saying anything. The hero jogs his memory trying to remember if you said anything about going out on Sunday.
Once he's freshened up, he makes his way to the nursery with Mayako by his side like a little assistant or something.
"Your brothers 'wake yet?" He asks opening the nursery door, he is met by loud cries from his little one.
"I think Kaien is awake, not sure about Kitaro." Katsuki nods, he picks up his daughter with his washed hands. He wanted all of his kids to have K names like him but you argued it'd be too confusing. You agreed on both your sons having K names but you named Shoko and Mayako.
"Alright Shoko, that's enough crying." She's only about four months old which means aside from eating, pooping and peeing, crying is all she can really do. He cradles her and puts the bottle in her mouth. The cries stop immediately and she sucks on the bottle harshly.
"Daddy, please don't get mommy pregnant anymore. I'm tired of hearing crying everyday." She admits in a tired tone as if she's the one who cares for all the children. She does contribute to her siblings care though.
"Hah? I hafta hear crying every day, more than you did and how do you even know I'm the reason mommy has babies?" He's shocked to say the least, Mayako is only nine.
"Well for one mommy was always like 'I swear on my life all that man wants to do is get me pregnant' or 'I'm not having anymore of his kids after this one' so I asked Aunty Mina what she was talking about and she gave me as she called it 'a watered down version of how babies are made'." Mayako explained to her father. He should've known it was Mina.
He switched Shoko's postion so he could burp her, then he realized he needed her towel or he'd have spit up on his shirt.
"'N what exactly did Mina say?" He completely ignores that fact that you've complained about pregnancy, he's heard it all before. Whatever Mina told his daughter was something ridiculous he already knew it.
"She said that you slid your hotdog into mommy's bun and the mayo created a baby hotdog." Katsuki cringes hard. Out of all the things Mina could have told his daughter it had to be that.
"I hate that idiot so much." He mumbles. Shoko gives a good burp and a few coos. Katsuki adores the fact that Shoko has your eyes and your nose.
"Go tell Kaien to brush, Kitaro too if he's 'wake." Mayako gives a silent nod and stomps out of the nursery. Katsuki predicts that Kaien will come crying in a little bit, he and his sister clash often due to Mayako's firey temper and his softness.
He's determined to change Shoko's diaper and clothes before Kaien comes in crying.
Katsuki gets lucky and is able to start breakfast when Kaien comes crying in the kitchen. "Daddy, Mayako's being mean. I hate her!" He yells folding his arms.
"Woah kid, we don't say hate. Especially not about family." Katsuki says, he's in his 'Kiss the chef' apron in courtesy of you.
"You say hate all the time!" Kaien argues, and well, he's right. Katsuki doesn't want his child outsmarting him, though.
"That's cuz I'ma grown up." It's the best thing he can come up with at the moment. A father of four with his wife away can only do so much. He's got Shoko strapped to his chest while he's cooking.
Katsuki gets no respond from his son, so it's time to do some digging.
"What did your sister do, Kaien?" He was not at all prepared for Kaien's answer, he expected that she was bossing him around or something.
"S-she said that I can't use the spicy toothpaste because I'm a baby!" Spicy toothpaste? Oh, he must mean the mint toothpaste.
"What did you tell her?" He quickly scarmbles the eggs with the cooking chopsticks.
"I told her six isn't a baby and she said it is." Katsuki almost laughed, not at Kaien. It's just that cute little pout he has on his face.
"Maya-"
"Yeah?" She responds before her father can finish calling her name. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was lurking around the corner waiting to interject and say that her brother was wrong.
"Why can't Kaien use the spicy toothpaste?" The eggs are done so he plates them and checks on the rice. Shoko was drooling all over his collarbone even with her baby towel.
"Cuz he's only six, he should use the kid toothpaste." She says in her 'as-a-matter-of-fact' voice.
"Are you Kaien's ma?" Katsuki asks, he doesn't miss a beat while chopping the spring onions.
"No but-"
"Aht, no buts. You're not his ma so you can't go around telling him what to do. Unless of course, you're babysitting 'em." He sets the chopped onions aside and puts the rice and eggs into bowls. He makes sure all the servings are equal or he'll get complaints from his mini critiques.
"Mkay." She's sour right now.
"Where's Kitaro?" Katsuki garnishes the the food and sets it on the table.
"We both tried to wake him up but he kept saying he was tired." Mayako comments and sits in her normal spot.
"Ain't nothing for him to be tired for, he's eight." Mayako shrugs at her father's words and says thanks for the food. She and Kaien dig in.
Katsuki heads up the stairs, Shoko still strapped to him. His eyes scan the hallway and it's covered in toys. The blond makes a mental note for his kids to clean up later.
He walks over toys to reach Kitaro's room, the door's closed which isn't normal. You enforced the 'no closed doors' rule, unless someone's in the bathroom or changing.
He opens it half expecting Kitaro to be doing something bad. Instead the eight year old is snoring like he hasn't slept in years.
"Get up kid, time to eat. Go brush." He shakes Kitaro.
He just groans, pulls his covers over his head, and yawns.
"I'm tired." Katsuki raises a brow.
"Tired from what?" Once again, Kitaro's only eight, he can't be doing anything that energy consuming.
"Video games." He mumbles from under the covers.
"Tch, 's why you don't needta be playin' them. I don't know why that old hag got you a gaming system." Kitaro is sluggish getting out of the bed. Katsuki's watching him like a hawk. He watched him all the way until he was at the table.
He sees you sitting with Kaien in your lap eating some of his food because he's not likely to finish it.
"There's my baby girl!" You coo to Shoko. Katsuki undoes the baby carrier and takes her out of it. Those ruby red eyes scan your body for any indication of your activities this morning.
"Where have you been all mornin'?" Shoko babbles while Katsuki starts eating breakfast.
"I went to the gym, I'm trying to lose baby weight." You explain with a small smile.
"Tch, why's it matter? I'm your man 'n I like you the way you are." He never understood why you were so insecure.
"I'm not doing it for anyone besides myself." Kaien whines when you pick at his eggs.
"You aren't gonna eat them, little boy." You boop his nose and he tries to bite your finger.
"Too slow, Kai." He pouts, and it looks just like when Katsuki pouts.
"Why didn't ya tell me you were leavin'?" He huffs.
"Cuz you'd tell me I look good and convince me to stay." You're met by his silence which tells you you're right.
"Date night?" Katsuki asks with a sly smirk.
"No more babies!" Mayako protests.
"I agree- wait how do you-?!"
"Mina." Your husband and eldest daughter say at the same time.
"Oh I love her." It doesn't take a genius to know Mina probably told her some crazy watered down version of sex.
"Ki, hon, you look tired." He yawns at your words.
"He stayed up all night on that gaming system the old hag gave him." Your eyes widen.
"Katsuki! Your mom is not the 'h word' and I've been meaning to put parental controls on that thing." He rolls his eyes at your pg language when you normally have the mouth of a sailor when the kids aren't around.
"Whatever." The hero scoffs.
"Love you too, Kats!" You wink at him obnoxiously and he groans.
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Thanks shima707 for giving me the motivation to write more, and I'm glad you enjoyed the first part! Love you guys and see ya next time <3
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palajae · 1 month
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my name. | nishimura riki
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PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader
GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN
WC ▸ 15.6k
SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead. 
AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.
AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...
wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️
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a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.
you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate? 
you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his- 
the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open.  you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default. 
it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete. 
you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside. 
it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible. 
you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn. 
not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you. 
you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world. 
that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today. 
you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right? 
though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”
it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you. 
“you okay, y/n?” 
you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that? 
but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”
they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever. 
you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less. 
the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. 
the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen. 
after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train.  although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere. 
you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway. 
you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once. 
so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown, 
wait a second-
something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?
you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well. 
you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you. 
you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—
have you met before?
you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform. 
a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.
“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings. 
his only response is a blink.  
it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment. 
you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it. 
“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…” 
you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop. 
that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.  
“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes. 
“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”
your mouth drops open. 
“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands. 
the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively. 
“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“
you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-” 
again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away. 
the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”
his next words make your blood run cold. 
“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists. 
“who are you? and why do you look just-?”
“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”  
you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction. 
it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting. 
he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense. 
his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.” 
“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“
“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.” 
before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off. 
you can call me niki, his words echo in your head. 
his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—
you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision. 
all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong. 
you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t. 
to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t. 
and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was. 
things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on. 
following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast. 
It wasn’t physically possible. 
you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died. 
niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.
niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you. 
“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes. 
“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”
he raises his eyebrows. 
“me? explain?” 
you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“
“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes. 
“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”
you sigh, rubbing your temples. 
“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”
he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore. 
“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you. 
the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.
his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.” 
you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”
“yeah. are you?” 
“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!” 
he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.  
you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform. 
“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”
his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter?  that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”
he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.
“obviously not, because that’s dumb.” 
you scoff. 
“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“ 
he glances at you and you tense,  
“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters. 
you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”
there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.” 
you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around? 
he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.” 
the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place.   except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in. 
“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces. 
“i know. there were police here for days.” 
you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when? 
you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened? 
“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth. 
soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away. 
“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door. 
you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books. 
you pause, “yearbooks?“
he nods, “yeah, our school’s.” 
strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home. 
but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page. 
“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.
“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...” 
you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name, 
nish—
he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones- 
ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you. 
just like niki. you were actually speechless. 
eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches. 
“no way—” 
“—and there’s you.” 
it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you. 
almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo. 
according to niki, this you is dead? 
you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on? 
the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?” 
you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“
he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.” 
you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer, 
“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”
you don’t know what to say. 
could it actually be?
what other explanation could there be? 
“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 
“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—” 
you do air quotations, 
“—switch dimensions to another world?” 
niki shrugs, “no idea.”
he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”
his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”
you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?” 
“what?” 
you glance at him questioningly, “what?”
niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”
you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath. 
“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”
you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.” 
“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.
“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.” 
“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation. 
“well, it actually happened last thursday.”
you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up? 
“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance, 
“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.” 
at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise. 
at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in. 
you? 
a suicide at school? 
what about your family, your friends-
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head.  “i… i would never-“
you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”
his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“ 
unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.  
that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-
was just a stranger to him. 
yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits. 
it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression. 
“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.
“are you sure that i-i did it?”
you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs, 
“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got. 
your face hardens. 
“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?” 
his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.
“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?” 
something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.
even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”
despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you. 
you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”
he stiffens, “what?” 
you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.” 
you need to. for yourself. 
niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“
“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”
he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”
you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.” 
he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him. 
“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door 
“wait! you’re being serious?!” 
his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”
“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.
you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”
he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.
“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”
“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.  annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.
“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”
“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.” 
niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe. 
“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand, 
“miss imposter.” 
you take it gladly, harshly.  “don’t call me that-“
“my name is y/n y/l/n.” 
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you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.” 
to which you almost punched him. 
but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful. 
“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.” 
“what about clothes and toiletries?”
he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.” 
you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here. 
a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. 
“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?” 
“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.
“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”
you hold back a laugh at the words. 
clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle. 
“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?” 
“apparently a horrible one,” you snort. 
after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation. 
“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”
“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow. 
you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay,  smartass. then how do we get in?” 
“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.” 
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“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him. 
the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort. 
niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard. 
obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness.  you wondered if they were staying with other family. 
or were they at work? so soon after your death? 
you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.
the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.  
you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall 
you glance down at niki. 
“can you make it?”
he scoffs,  
“easy.” 
it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point. 
you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down. 
you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”
“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”
“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.
niki’s eyes widen. 
“be careful, y/n.” 
“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion. 
without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you. 
your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open. 
“you got it?” 
“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window. 
finally, you can breathe. 
it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation. 
after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room. 
all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you. 
a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. 
at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room.  not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,
“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”
he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”
“oh.”
the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”
he nods and begins to snoop around.  
“wait,” you call out hesitantly. 
niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.
“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.” 
he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.” 
you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.  
you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-
“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face. 
you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?  
niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen- 
wait a second, 
your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things? 
you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t. 
“don’t!” 
his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view. 
“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows. 
“no? am i not supposed-“
“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”
you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.
he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile. 
“you can proceed!” 
he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one. 
you pull out… 
a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room? 
and even more so, why was it hidden? 
niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open. 
“a box of chocolates?“ 
he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”
“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter. 
niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance. 
“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?” 
he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”
you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind. 
after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious— 
like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different. 
just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be. 
“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”
niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.” 
you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one. 
“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.  
“what day and time is it, currently?” 
“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”
“when does the police station close?”
dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?
luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.  
niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“
his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”
you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”
you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“
you grin. “onwards, then.”
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“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”
he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”
“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.
he nods. 
“illegally?”
he nods again.
you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?” 
he shrugs, “probably.”
“good thing i’m not from this world.”
perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.
“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft. 
you gulp, “i guess i should.”
you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead. 
you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.
“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”
“are you sure?”
“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice. 
niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.
“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.
“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”
you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.” 
“then what?” 
you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.” 
you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-
it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-
you squint.
the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-
your thoughts are interrupted by niki. 
“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”
he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone. 
but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.
“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.
“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests
you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day. 
“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”
he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”
you nod, “okay.”
it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead. 
were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops? 
more like, if anyone cared? 
while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
yes, you affirm, you’re alive. 
you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts. 
but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink. 
everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-
a knock on the door makes you jump.
“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“
the door swings open.
you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.
“goodnight, niki.” 
you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks, 
“night, y/n.” 
it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore. 
you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights. 
in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.
you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.
“niki?” you say quietly.
another shuffle. 
“yeah?”
“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”
there’s a pause. 
“about you?”
“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”
niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”
you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter. 
“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”
“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts. 
you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face. 
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the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you. 
especially about what you said.
niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.
he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused. 
why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it. 
meanwhile, you stayed at his home.
thinking. 
thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead. 
you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously. 
you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki. 
you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.
however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”
he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”
you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!” 
he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further. 
“you must’ve been bored without me.” 
that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so).  sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.” 
but you knew he was right and he knew it too. 
“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown. 
“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…” 
“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.” 
you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.” 
you nod, “that’s good.” 
“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”
you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday. 
“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”
you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look. 
“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?” 
niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.” 
instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof. 
“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step. 
“step? as in, my case?
“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”
you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were. 
“okay—shoot.”
what was the worse thing he could suggest?
“we should sneak you into school-“
your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?” 
niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did. 
“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”
“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker? 
“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.” 
you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.
“fine.” 
niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,
“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?
he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.
“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“ 
confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about? 
“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket. 
you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.
you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly. 
“you’re actually being smart...” 
his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation. 
you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?” 
he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…
“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.” 
“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly. 
niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?” 
you falter. “huh? it isn’t?” 
he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.” 
you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.
“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”
turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice. 
niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger. 
meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair. 
you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him. 
on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.
he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms. 
instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart. 
after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head. 
“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.” 
please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort. 
you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself.  “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“
you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways. 
“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.
he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.” 
he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect. 
niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.
with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal? 
normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends. 
on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive? 
“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes. 
“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?” 
“am i actually loaded in this world?” 
niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“ 
you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know. 
“how much are you talking?” 
he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“
you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed. 
“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.” 
you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?” 
he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace? 
“what?” 
you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are? 
“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?” 
then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?” 
you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…” 
suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide.  panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—
straight into the locker. 
your own locker. 
you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime? 
in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise. 
no way. park sunghoon was in this world too? 
you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?” 
really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out. 
“sorry. that was me, pres.” 
it was niki’s voice. 
you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon. 
“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily. 
sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.” 
niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.” 
“alright, see you later.” 
you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave. 
but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker. 
your heart rate picks up. did he notice you? 
however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back. 
you frown—what was that? 
after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms. 
“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself. 
“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.
“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”
“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.” 
“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“
“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off. 
you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed. 
everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace. 
you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”
one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace? 
“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.” 
you sigh. next time. 
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it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it. 
the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice. 
tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis. 
niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven. 
niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused. 
he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“
all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door. 
“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“
the door handle begins to turn.
you and niki share a look of panic. 
your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath. 
“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume. 
“nope. just me.” 
you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was. 
“it was just probably the video i was playing.” 
“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her. 
you let out an exhale of relief. 
“y/n?” you hear soon after. 
“under here.” 
you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed. 
you meet his curious eyes. cute. 
“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off. 
“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”
“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“
“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it. 
“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 
he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp. 
you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours. 
niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead. 
is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat? 
niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere. 
“so, uh, i had an idea.”
“yeah? what’s up?”
“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”
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“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point. 
“you got the charger, right?”
niki nods, taking it out of his pocket. 
it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end. 
when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing. 
“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.” 
“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.” 
you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger. 
“okay. now we wait.” 
niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”
he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”
you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id. 
as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth. 
“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”
you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it. 
“oh my god.” 
“don’t even-“
“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”
you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” 
niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”
you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.” 
niki notices the sour expression on your face. 
“oh. you don’t like him?”
you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”
you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him. 
besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words. 
“good to know.” 
“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.
but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace? 
and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind. 
“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully. 
“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”
“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”
“well, i’ve got a task for you.” 
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niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public. 
he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them. 
and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you. 
danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”
“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”
haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.” 
she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears. 
niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it. 
you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing. 
everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died. 
the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone. 
you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness. 
you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name. 
“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side. 
his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. 
what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion. 
“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind. 
“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace. 
“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice. 
his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world. 
he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again. 
niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep. 
you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before. 
somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table. 
11 am. niki must be at school still, you note. 
you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass? 
niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay. 
when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk. 
went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me. 
niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud. 
he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day. 
he’s scared. 
niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure. 
he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.
tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected. 
you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall. 
you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.
niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged. 
then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.” 
he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.” 
you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”
“okay,” niki repeats. 
it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.
suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain. 
the rain doesn’t stop. 
and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly. 
“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly. 
“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.” 
“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically. 
he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self. 
“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”
“but-“
“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.” 
you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“
niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”
a challenge was a challenge. 
you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun. 
“just so you know, i technically won.” 
you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“
you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified. 
niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”
“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout. 
“what do you want to eat?”
“anything. i’m serious.” 
niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food. 
“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”
you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly. 
“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze. 
“how’s this one?”
you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.
“i think this one fits you more.”
as he grumbles, you laugh. 
“fine, but i get to choose yours.” 
he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”
you splutter, “but that means-“
“yes. i’m the princess.”
“obviously,” he adds. 
in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow. 
“i’ve never done this before, so…"
instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes. 
“what now?”
niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”
you’re at a loss for words. 
niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”
“o-okay.”
you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.  
“hey, this photo came out good!”
“but what happened to the first one?”
you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek. 
it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way. 
it was something you had never felt before. 
“..-y/n?”
“huh?” you snap out of your trance.
“i said, you can keep this copy.” 
you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“
“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay. 
you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off. 
on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.
“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”
“whatever you say, mr. responsible.” 
he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.
that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events. 
“niki?”
you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”
“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”
“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”
“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”
“what? what do you mean?” 
even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you. 
“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”
“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.
“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”
niki grimaces. 
“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”
“nope. what are they like?” 
he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”
“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.” 
you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps. 
now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking. 
your specialty. 
niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart. 
as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed. 
and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers. 
that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it. 
you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn. 
“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”
you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”
“what were you doing on my phone?”
you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you. 
“oh, and?” 
you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face. 
that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone. 
you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-
it was so close.
the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night. 
he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”
you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?” 
he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.
and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.
it was time to confront the truth.
you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted. 
this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it. 
you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor. 
you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it. 
and hearts next to sunghoon’s face. 
horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth. 
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during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up? 
just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts. 
and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar. 
he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops. 
you sit on the floor next to the lockers  with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care. 
the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket. 
you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been. 
“y/n!” 
great, now you were hearing things as well? 
furious footsteps stomp towards you.
“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”
“n-niki?” your eyes widen. 
before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet. 
“why would you come to school without me?”
for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?” 
he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“
“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“
a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”
you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction. 
he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium? 
“why are we-“
“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”
after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence. 
niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”
you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!” 
“you don’t understand,” his voice raises,  and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him. 
“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”
at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down. 
“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter. 
you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life, 
you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you. 
and this was the first time you felt wanted. 
you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him. 
when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.
without a second thought, niki pushes you. 
he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—
straight into the pool. 
your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later. 
he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago. 
you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air. 
after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air. 
“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”
you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”  
you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”
he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”
you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.” 
“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”
after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part. 
growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”
you thank him and he looks around awkwardly. 
“what is it?” you squint at him. 
“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”
you soften, eyes falling to the floor. 
“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.” 
you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can. 
niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”
“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”
“w-what? but how?”
you shake your head. he goes to hug you. 
you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face. 
“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.” 
niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”
he wonders why you say you and not we.
at that, you falter. 
“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.” 
niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”
you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.” 
it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home. 
“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes. 
and he looks back at you with pained ones. 
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niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in. 
the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.
it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway. 
you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.” 
the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were. 
you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears. 
“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.” 
he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.” 
if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world. 
“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper. 
“how will you even get back home?”
you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”
niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”
as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky. 
the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket. 
you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.
while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”
your body trembles, “i don’t know.”
“then… will i ever see you again?”
you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry. 
yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”
niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already. 
“this is it,” he says. 
but neither of you move. 
“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces. 
“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.” 
you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.
“i promise i’ll find you again.” 
he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.
crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one. 
you never knew niki’s name.
and then everything fades into nothing. 
that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go. 
then, you’re gone. 
in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together. 
all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting. 
but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore. 
and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers. 
you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform. 
niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second. 
when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there. 
he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing. 
after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him.��niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time. 
when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved. 
and then he’s free.
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epilogue...
you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that. 
there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy. 
ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.
even after graduating, it never left you. 
you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto. 
“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in. 
they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.  
you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”
he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled. 
“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize. 
“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”
you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.  
“me?”
he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile. 
“my name is nishimura riki.”
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first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!
MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @who-tf-soddhi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @asteria-wood @noajakah236482 @enhacatalog @june-pop @ohsjy @ashtxrie
ONESHOT TAGLIST ▸ @geraldsmochi @tya0 @woncine @wonkivrse @zhounauts @ilovejaketoomuch @minjiversee @annoyingbitch83 @haerinsii @hohohobo @luvbinnies @boyfhee @kyutiepeachy
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vanteguccir · 1 month
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You're mine | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by @httpsm4tti
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Get out."
Y/N smiled as she heard Matt's short and authoritative voice echo through the walls of their shared room.
"Hi baby, are you okay?"
Matt lifted his head instantly, pulling his attention away from the computer screen in front of him and toward the door, where his girlfriend was standing.
A tray was resting securely in her open palms as a teasing gaze looked back at him.
A sigh escaped his lips, and Y/N knew it wasn't because he was stressed about seeing her but rather completely relieved. His tense posture gradually eased, and his frown dissolved, giving way to a calming stance.
"What are you doing here, petal?" Matt's tone came out soft, his hands leaving the keyboard and resting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs.
"You've been locked in here for hours. I haven't seen you get out to eat or drink anything until now..." Y/N began, starting her quick steps towards the brunette. "And since I know you're on a task to answer every email sent to the channel, I decided to bring you some snacks and drinks." A big smile spread across her face, her hands working on resting the tray on the empty space of his desk.
Matt glanced briefly at the contents on the wooden surface, fighting back a smile as he noticed all of his favorite snacks, plus a handmade sandwich and a can of rootbeer.
"You didn't need to do all this, sweetheart." The boy brought his blue orbs back to his girlfriend, his right hand coming up and resting on her hip lightly, gently stroking the covered skin.
"Anything for you, my love."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The sound of the door to his shared room with Y/N opening ​​echoed through Matt's ears. The boy was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for himself and his girlfriend, the sun's rays streaming through the living room's large windows serving as his only source of lighting.
Y/N's muffled and quick footsteps sounded through the small hallway that led to where he was.
The boy didn't need to turn around to know that she was now standing behind him, probably just the large wooden table separating them.
"Good morning, baby!" Y/N's voice was like music to his ears, and Matt found himself wondering how she could be so happy at this time of the day, a small "morning" escaping his lips in response. "You won't believe the dream I had."
A smile almost imperceptibly appeared on the right corner of Matt's lips, the kind of smile that only Y/N was capable of eliciting from him.
The boy turned around with Y/N's favorite mug in one hand and a small plate with flowers drawn on it in the other, both containing coffee with a dash of milk and waffles with honey, just the way his girl liked.
The brunette placed them both on the surface in front of the seat that Y/N had already designated as hers, picking up his own plate and mug before sitting down in front of her.
"Nick and I were at this different theater, and we were going to watch a horror movie, which already started out weird because we know how much he hates horror movies..." Y/N started quickly, pausing momentarily to take a bite of her waffle, a hint of honey smearing the corner of her mouth. "But the weirdest thing was that the movie wasn't horror. It only had two main characters, and they rode horses the whole time. And then, out of nowhere, they adopted a mute dog and a blind cat, which were the cutest little things I've ever seen..."
The girl kept going, her voice changing intonation with each word while her expressions moved quickly, her free hand gesturing while her other hand held her waffle tightly, taking bites from time to time.
Matt remained silent, a serious - but relaxed - expression took over his face, while his mouth slowly chewed the pieces of his own toast, nodding his head every now and then, showing to her that he was paying attention, just like everyday.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
To outsiders, the scene unfolding there seemed to be amusing.
Y/N, with a big smile on her face and yellow flowing dress surrounding her, was quickly pulling a serious-looking Matt with completely black clothes, which covered almost his entire body.
"Come on, baby! There's an ice cream cart right there." The girl repeated the information that had already been given previously, pointing enthusiastically with the index finger of her free hand at the small pastel-colored cart on the other side of the street.
"I can see that." Matt muttered, feigning annoyance, but everyone who knew them knew how much he was loving it.
"Can I get a strawberry one? Please! Oh, and which flavor will you want? I know you love the chocolate one, but it's so nice to change things up sometimes." Y/N rambled, finally approaching the cart, smiling big at the salesperson in greeting. "So?"
"You can order anything you want for me." Matt surrendered, catching the intense gleam in his girl's eyes with his response before averting his own, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, ready to just make the payment and seat on a random wooden bench, looking forward to hearing her ramble about her week.
"Good afternoon! Can I have a strawberry one and a cream one, please?"
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Baby, can you get me a Diet Coke? Please." Y/N briefly interrupted her conversation with Tara, looking at her boyfriend.
Matt was sitting next to Y/N on one of the couches at Tara's big 1 million party, his arms were crossed and his expression was serious - almost angry -, his eyes carried a steady gaze that circled around the people in the room, ignoring the screams and loud music, only his girl's voice echoing in his ears.
The brunette looked at her momentarily, nodding and leaning down slightly, sealing his lips on the side of her head gently before standing up, walking with firm steps towards the nearest bar.
It didn't take long, and soon the boy was returning to his previous spot, his hands balancing a can of Diet Coke and a can of Rootbeer.
His blue eyes almost instantly found the figure of his girlfriend, who was still talking to Tara, but now Nick was with them as well.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her speak with so much passion, gesturing too much and changing her expressions too quickly.
But his own smile quickly fell when he saw a strange guy sitting in his previous seat, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch right behind Y/N's head and bringing his body closer to his girlfriend's, too close for his liking.
It was obvious that the guy knew Tara, as he immediately started talking to her, but his body language showed his interest in Y/N.
"Move. Now." Matt's serious and rude voice suddenly sounded as soon as he approached them, startling the small group. His eyes were fixed on the unknown boy, glaring at him.
His action brought small reactions from the others; Nick rolled his eyes, already used to his brother and his way of acting with everyone - except his girl. Tara raised her right eyebrow, her eyes traveling from the boy to Matt and back again.
But Y/N just smiled sincerely, ignoring the rudeness of his tone. Her eyes instantly lit up upon meeting her boyfriend and even more so upon seeing him holding her order.
"I won't repeat myself." Matt demanded, keeping his gaze steady on the guy, who quickly understood the message and got up from the couch, raising his hands in surrender before leaving.
Matt sat back down in the now empty space, handing his girl the Diet Coke before placing his arm right where the other boy's was, his fingertips caressing the exposed skin of her right shoulder.
He took advantage of Tara and Nick starting a new topic and brought his head closer to Y/N's, pressing his lips against her ear.
"You're mine, babe. Only mine."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Are you ready, honey?" Y/N asked as she finished fastening her necklace around her neck, her eyes fixed on the mirror next to their closet in the room she shared with Matt.
"I just... I don't know which sneakers to wear." Matt's voice sounded tired, his brow furrowed as his eyes traveled over the extensive row of sneakers he owned.
The girl turned around, approaching him while throwing her hair over her shoulders, running her hands over the light pink dress that hugged her body just right.
The two were getting ready to go to the Snapchat event that would take place in a few hours, and as usual Matt always asked his girlfriend for some tips on one of the pieces he would wear for the day.
"Wear the white and blue Jordans. I like how they look on you." Y/N opined, pointing to the indicated pair, caressing his right bicep before turning around, crossing the already open bedroom door to check if Nick and Chris were ready.
The duo was lying on the sofa, both ready and using their respective phones, just waiting for the couple.
"Finally! If I knew how to drive, I would have left you two behind." Chris grumbled, adjusting his posture on the upholstery and putting his cell in his pants pocket.
"You still didn't learn to drive properly because you're lazy and too comfortable with me just driving your ass around." Matt's voice echoed behind Y/N, his figure leaving their room and closing the door behind him, his expression straight and his eyes carrying a serious gaze.
"Oh my God, you look handsome, baby! I knew Jordan would work out just fine." Y/N ignored the small fight between them, her eyes traveling over Matt's body, admiring his clothes despite them being simple and black - as always.
Matt rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but the traces of an almost non-existent smile appearing on the right corner of his lips while his cheeks took on a red hue said otherwise.
"Oh, how handsome you are, Matt." Nick joked, imitating Y/N's voice and fawning his right hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly, earning a loud laugh from Chris and an amused smile from Y/N.
"Shut the fuck up. Get moving. Now!" Matt barked back, glaring at his brothers before finally approaching his girl.
He placed his left hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her to the stairs that led them to the garage, ready to go.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @iammattswife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Attitude Adjustment (Chris Sturniolo)
matt version?
contains: angst, bickering, relationship arguing, smut, softdom chris, hair pulling, fluff, kissing, protected sex, female receiving, 1.7k word count
a/n: based on this idea i had. sorry it took so long i couldn't figure out how to end it. i still kinda hate the ending but fuck it we ball.
“It’ll only be for like an hour and a half-”
“Chris-”
“Baby. We’re out of video-”
“So you basically invited me over to fucking abandon me here?” I ask, unable to hide the irritation I feel bubbling up. I sigh deeply, rolling out of Chris’ arms and grabbing my phone. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch him rub his hand over his face and sit up.
“Babe, we’ve been together all day. Just give me an hour." He gets out of bed and stretches before heading into his bathroom. I know I’m being a bit of a bitch to him but I can’t help it. Our schedules have been so crazy lately that every hour I get matters these days. Seems like I never get him to myself anymore and it’s starting to grate on my nerves.
Chris comes out of the bathroom and heads to his closet, stopping to scoop his favorite sweatpants off the floor. I roll my eyes and grab my Airpods, popping them in my ears and turning my music on full volume.
After a couple of minutes, Chris comes over and leans down to kiss me but I dodge it, not ready to stop being petty yet. He rolls his eyes and reaches to pull my headphones out. “Can we please not do this? This is my literal job.”
I kiss my teeth and Chris takes a deep breath and steps away. Nick calls his name from the top of the stairs and he yells back that he’s coming before grabbing his wallet.
“Alright. I love you, baby. We can talk about it when I get back.” He says over his shoulder as he reaches for his door handle.
“Whatever, Chris. Just leave me the fuck alone. I don’t even care anymore.” I snap. Chris pauses his movements and gives me a look that has me squirming. He walks over to the bed and squats down in front of me, the intensity of his eye contact making me lean back.
“Stop talking to me like you’re crazy, bro. Am I speaking to you like that?”
“No,” I mumble, crossing my arms and refusing to meet his eyes.
“Alright so watch your fucking mouth.”
I nod, struck silent, and he leans in to press a quick kiss on my temple before he stands, finally heading out the door.
I sit there for a minute staring at the wall contemplating my sanity. Because there’s no reason why that was the hottest Chris has ever been to me.
*******
It’s quite possible I’ve never been this bored in my life. I’ve started three different TV shows on Netflix, started doing handstands, and scrolled until my for you page started getting weird. I’m half lying on the bed, half hanging off, when I hear the boys come back. I spring up and turn off the light, throwing myself into bed and pretending to be asleep.
A few minutes later the door opens and Chris comes in, hesitating for a second when he sees it’s dark. I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to him move quietly through the room. When he gets in the bed, I feel him lean over me and run a knuckle over my cheek.
“You know you’re a terrible actress right?” He laughs, reaching over to pull me into his arms. I smack my lips and yank away, sticking to my plan of being a brat. He sighs, dropping his head back on his pillow.
“How do you still have an attitude after two whole hours?”
“Thought it was only going to be an hour and a half?” I mock, turning over on my stomach to face the wall.
“Okay.” Chris sits up and turns on his lamp before flipping me over to face him. I blink at him rapidly, startled by the sudden movement.
“This is what we’re not gonna do.” He says, gesturing between us. “Either talk to me or let it go. Those are your only two options.” His tone is harsh but with his thumb smoothing over my arm, it doesn’t feel as mean.
I sit up and face him, crossing my legs. “I just want a day or two where I don’t have to fight for your attention,” I say quietly. Chris nods slowly, tilting his head like he’s thinking.
“Okay.” He says, pulling me into his lap. “I hear you. I’ll try not to film on nights when you're here. At least until I can see you more.”
I look up at him and smile, placing a kiss on his collarbone. “Thank you.”
“That was easy, huh? Talking and shit like we’re adults-”
“Don’t ruin it,” I say, reaching up to pull his face down to mine.
I kiss the corner of his mouth and it pulls up in a lopsided smile. I keep going, kissing the other corner before both his top and bottom lip. His eyes trail my face, darkening as he waits for me to kiss him fully. But instead, I slip off his lap, rolling back to my side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” He asks with a frown, leaning so he’s hovering over me. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Just wanted to see how much you want to kiss me,” I say casually, tangling my fingers into his hair.
Chris leans down and presses his lips to mine roughly, pushing my head into the pillow and anchoring a hand on my hip. His other hand dips under my shirt, sliding higher as we deepen the kiss. He pulls away to start lining kisses down my neck, driving me crazy.
“I always want to kiss you. Even when you're really fucking annoying." He says as he slides down my body, stopping to place a kiss above my belly button. He runs his tongue back up the trail of my body before he stops to yank off my shirt and bra. The light from the lamp makes me a little shy and I reach to turn it off but Chris stops me. “Leave it on, I want to see you.”
He slides back up to kiss me again, sweeter this time and full of love. I smile against his lips and mumble low, “You’re such a softie.”
Chris breaks the kiss and raises his eyebrows, giving me a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?” Before I can respond, he sits up and grabs my panties, ripping them off in one motion and tossing them over his shoulder.
“I always wanted to do that.” He says, sliding down to run his tongue over my hip.
“I’m going to kill you.” I breathe out as he moves closer to my core.
“I’ll buy you some more.”
“It better be Victor-” I cut off my complaining with a moan as he swirls his tongue over my clit. He pushes open my legs and leaves one hand running up and down my thigh gently.
I lace my fingers back into his hair and he looks up at me as he slides a finger inside of me. He picks up his pace, thrusting inside of me roughs and adding another finger while matching his tongue motions to his fingers.
I tighten my grip on his hair and moan out his name, squirming up until my head hits the headboard. Chris moves his arm to spread across my stomach and pins me in place, never pausing his movements.
I throw my head back and rock my hips up as I call out his name and tell him I’m close. He only stretches me out more, curling his finger up to hit the spot that always takes me out.
I turn my head and moan into the pillow as I ride out my orgasm, still calling out Chris’ name. He presses a final kiss to my clit and then pushes himself up my body. He kisses me hungrily before he leans over to his nightstand.
“Still got an attitude or what? Let me know.” He teases as he stands to take his clothes off and slip the condom on.
“Shut up, Chris,” I say, rubbing my hand over my eyes.
“Alright, so we’re still working on it. Got it.”
He flips me over onto my stomach and hops on the bed behind me, pulling me up until I’m arched where he wants me. I look over my shoulder at him as he lines himself up to enter me, his tip rubbing against my folds, and he meets my eyes as he pushes in.
He gives me barely any time to adjust before he’s hammering into me, both hands gripping my hips and pulling me to meet his thrusts. I grip the sheets, whimpering, but Chris doesn’t slow his strokes for a second.
“Wow, you’re quiet.” He says ruggedly. “Where’s all that fucking mouth you got?”
I open my mouth to talk shit back but he readjusts, pressing his hand into my back and pushing me into the mattress. Somehow he picks up his speed, digging deeper into me than I thought possible. I try to say his name but all that comes out is a series of unintelligible sounds and he laughs roughly.
I reach a hand back against his hip but he grabs it and pins it behind my back, using it as leverage to pull back and slam into me again. “You feel so fucking insane.”
The breathy candace of his voice makes me moan out louder and Chris gathers all my hair into one hand and uses it to pull me up against his chest. The new angle has me seeing stars and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he places sloppy kisses on my neck. He reaches down to rub his thumb over my clit and I buck against him, my body shuttering from the intensity.
I’m so close now and he can tell, gripping my face and tilting my head so he can meet my eyes. “Go ahead, baby. Give it to me.”
I do exactly as he says, maintaining eye contact, as I fall again. He throws his head back at the feeling, muttering a low, “fuck,” and moaning out my name as he comes.
He drops his head against my shoulder for a second, breathing heavily, before he pulls out slowly. I fall back onto the bed while he heads to the bathroom to clean up. I’m still lying motionless when Chris comes back out and sits on the edge of the bed. “Come on. Take a bath with me.”
I smile over at him and slide out the bed, following him into the bathroom. I sit on the counter as he runs the water and pours in my bubble soap.
He comes back over to me and stands in between my legs staring at me. “You didn’t say you loved me back when I left.”
“I just let you break my back. I think we’re good.” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Not the same.” He states matter of factly, leaning closer and brushing his lips against mine. I smile and then pull back, giving him a mock-serious face. “Christopher Sturniolo, I love you so much.”
He grins and kisses me again, deeper this time. “One more time?”
“I love you,” I whisper, chasing his lips but he pulls back.
“Again?”
“Alright, fuck off.”
He laughs and steps back so I can slide off the counter and head over to the tub. I get in after turning the water off and Chris follows, sliding in behind me.
I sigh contentedly, letting my head lay against his chest as he tells me about how filming went. I laugh at his stories and chime in softly, wondering how the hell I could ever be mad at a boy this sweet.
Well, at least until tomorrow.
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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Til It’s Gone
Theodore Nott x reader
Based on this cute lil request 🤗
Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)
word count: 3.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.
“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.
Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.
“Theo.”
“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.
Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.
The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.
“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”
“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.
Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.
“Theo?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.
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He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.
“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.
Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.
“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”
The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.
“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.
They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.
The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.
“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.
Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.
“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.
Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.
“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.
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“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.
“It’s Theo.”
“That’s what I said.”
You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.
Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.
It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.
You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.
Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.
That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.
The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.
“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.
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The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.
Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.
“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.
Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.
“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.
“Oh fuck off you two.”
Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.
“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”
“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”
“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”
“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”
With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.
Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.
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For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.
It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.
Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.
And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.
It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.
It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.
“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.
Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.
It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.
The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.
“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.
“Theodore?”
Theo glares at the use of the name.
“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.
With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.
“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.
“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”
"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.
"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."
Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.
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As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.
It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.
But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.
“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”
A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.
“Just a special friend,” you reply.
After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.
Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.
After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.
There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.
Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.
You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.
“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.
With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.
With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.
“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.
You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.
“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.
“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.
To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.
"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."
"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."
"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.
You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.
Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"
"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.
"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"
His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.
"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.
"I think I can have that arranged."
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Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 2 months
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Here are some German specific quirks I think König would have <3
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(yes, I know he's Austrian, but the difference is really only that they talk funny and have better desserts)
♡ he HATES fans and air conditioning. Like I'm talking disdain from the deepest pits of hell kinda hate.
Ceiling fans and AC are not a thing here, and literally every German looks at it with a very disapproving look if there happens to be one somewhere.
König absolutely refuses to sleep with the fan or AC on, just open a window, Liebling!
He's so upset that he can't put the window "auf kipp" :( (pls Google it, it's so hard to explain lol) like he's crushed that he can't keep the windows "auf kipp" all day.
You have a ceiling fan? Nope, not anymore. That thing is getting taken down the minute you move in together. But if you insist on keeping it, he'll secretly cut the cable to the switch.
Everyone knows all they do is whirl around dust and make you sick! He's not having it.
König acts like artificial ventilation is his worst enemy (I agree with him) and he'd rather suffocate than turn on the goddamn AC.
♡ Sundays are strictly lazy/rest days. Nothing's open on Sundays here, so we're forced to relax and not run around like headless chickens trying to get things done.
He's absolutely baffled if you have plans to go somewhere on a Sunday. What do you mean you need to run errands? What do you mean you're going out? And if you want him to come along?? Yeah, no.
His brain stops working. After the many years he's been alive, not once has he gone somewhere on a Sunday that wasn't his Oma's house for Kaffee und Kuchen.
You're not going anywhere. Plans are canceled, and you better spend the day on the couch with him.
♡ König probably misses all the beautiful old architecture Vienna has to offer. You don't quite appreciate it as much when it's just there all the time, but now he wishes he could quietly people watch in the city center :(
In my mind he's a bit of a history nerd, so he probably frequented museums and castles, admiring the delicately sculpted ceilings and wondering how people lived back then.
He'd be most fascinated by the masonry work done on the outside of most buildings. I mean, that's stone, but it's so smooth and carefully crafted.
♡ there are some very weird sayings in German that you just can't translate because they don't make sense. König is sick of having to awkwardly try to explain what they mean after he's been caught muttering one under his breath, only to realize halfway through that he looks like a maniac.
German is a very literal language, and I think he misses speaking it. We have very specific words for some things and he probably struggles to talk in English sometimes purely because the words he wants to use just don't exist.
(I'm very upset they didn't give him an Austrian accent bc it's one of my favorites, but I can also confidently say that I think he wouldn't be taken seriously at all if he had one lmao)
♡ König goes on random ass walks sometimes. Where's he going? On a walk. No, like where is he going? HE'S GOING ON A WALK.
There's no destination, you just walk. No matter the weather. Ya walk until you feel like you've walked enough. (A very German experience and I hate it)
♡ dreams of his Oma's Kaiserschmarn (me too, König, me too.)
It's basically a giant pancake that you tear into little pieces (traditionally, it has raisins too, I think) and you eat with either cinnamon sugar or applesauce (or both) and you will drift up to heaven.
It's warm, it's fluffy, it's sweet;
It's perfect for a gloomy Friday afternoon spent with his Oma and Opa 🥺
(Can you tell that I'm projecting)
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"Auf kipp" is a very specific window position where only the bottom two hinges stay attached so you can tilt the window towards you and a little crack is open so you can always have fresh air!
"Oma und Opa" grandma and grandpa, which he loves so much, undoubtedly.
"Kaffe und Kuchen" basically tea time. You get together and eat cake and have coffee! Mostly on the weekends :)
"Kaiserschmarn" what dreams are made of.
🩷
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