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#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.
fujii-draws · 20 days
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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(​NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
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maddymoreau · 1 year
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Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.
When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”
Diavolo responds:
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“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.
Along with how Diavolo describe his father.
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It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.
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Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.
Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.
His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.
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The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.
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Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.
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whimsyprinx · 1 year
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thanks to everyone who’s reminded me of my place or lack there of in their lives
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gaytobymeres · 4 months
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I swear my brother can tell when I’ve just cleaned the kitchen -_-
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angelfic · 8 months
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— THE WAY I LOVED YOU
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him
warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit
author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌
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The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.
It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.
The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.
Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.
You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.
It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.
Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.
The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.
“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”
“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”
“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”
The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”
“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”
”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”
“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”
“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”
Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”
Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”
Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”
“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.
You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.
Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.
You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.
“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”
“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”
“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”
“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”
“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.
The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.
“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.
You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.
As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.
Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”
You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”
“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”
This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”
You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”
“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”
Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”
The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.
“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.
“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”
Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.
You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.
“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”
“JORDAN.”
“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”
Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.
Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”
Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.
Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”
“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”
Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”
Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.
“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”
“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”
“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.
Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”
“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”
Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”
You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”
Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.
“Theo, don’t you dare.”
He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.
“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”
The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”
Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”
“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”
You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”
Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.
You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.
Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.
You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.
Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”
This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.
Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.
Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”
Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”
© angelfic 2023.
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you
this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members. Minho | Changbin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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genre: romance, friends to lovers
warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner
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“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.
“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”
Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.
“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.
“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.
Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”
“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.
You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.
When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”
“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?
Wrong.
You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.
You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.
“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”
“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”
Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”
Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.
“Perfect march, uh?”
You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”
“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?
“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”
“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”
“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.
“Movie?”
The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.
“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”
You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.
“Chan…”
“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”
“Why do you wanna know?”
“Because!”
He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.
What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.
“Do you like me, Chan?”
He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.
“It’s you.”
“Mh?”
“The guy I like, it’s you.”
He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.
“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.
“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”
You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.
“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.
“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”
If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.
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joelsgreys · 1 month
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baby, i’m yours
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
main masterlist l fic notifs
Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.
“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.
“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”
“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.
Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.
He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.
Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.
Baby, I'm yours
and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky
yours until the rivers all run dry
in other words, until I die
He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.
Joel wants to be annoyed. 
Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.
You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.
Baby, I’m yours
and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines
yours until the poets run out of rhyme
in other words, until the end of time
Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.
Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.
Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.
Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.
“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.
“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”
Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”
“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.
Fucking Christ. 
You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?
Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.
For being so, so fucking good for him.
He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 
You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.
He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.
Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?
He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.
You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.
The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.
“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”
Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.
Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”
“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”
Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.
“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.
Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.
Could it be that you’re actually content with him?
Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 
“I’m gonna stay right here by your side
do my best to keep you satisfied
nothing in this world can drive me away
‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”
It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”
You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”
Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.
“Because I don’t want anyone else.”
“You deserve better.”
You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”
“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”
“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”
Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”
His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.
“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”
His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”
You sigh.
“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”
The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.
You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”
“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”
Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.
It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.
Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.
After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”
“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”
It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.
He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”
“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.
Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.
“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”
You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”
You say it over and over again and he believes it.
He finally fucking believes it.
Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.
“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”
“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”
When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.
“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”
Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
Joel grins. “And your point is?”
You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.
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exuvianen · 10 days
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dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!
headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3
cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style
notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 
wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!
feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3
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✎ Dr. Ratio:
He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 
He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 
He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 
He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 
He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 
He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.
He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 
♤ Aventurine:
A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.
If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 
He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.
He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 
He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.
He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 
He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 
☠︎︎ Blade:
If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.
He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.
He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.
Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.
He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.
He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*
He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.
If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 
As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.
* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 
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seelestars · 1 month
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some bittersweet thoughts abt dating aventurine / sunday after playing 2.1…
firstly, I think I underestimated how hard it would be to get into a relationship with someone like aventurine,, he would need to trust you immensely in order to even attempt dating you
but once you do date him, he’s still very hesitant on being affectionate towards you
he had lost everything, everyone that was dear to him, so the idea of having someone he could lose again scares him
he’s careful not to grow too attached to you, always keeping you at an arms distance despite how much you love and care for him
every morning, he makes sure he wakes up before you so he can leave your side early. it’s not that he doesn’t want to be around you during such vulnerable moments, no, but rather he fears he’ll get too attached to you
he makes sure to tuck you in and press a sweet kiss to your forehead as he smiles to himself sadly before heading out
if you ask him about his reasoning behind leaving so early, he’ll just make excuses and dismiss it as ipc work (there’s a whole angsty idea I have for this related to believing he’s cheating but idk if I should write it)
you try your best to be understanding, staying by his side and comforting him whenever he needs it
in return, he spoils you using his immense wealth
see a necklace you like? no worries, just tell him—tabs always on him after all. want to go out for dinner? of course, the most luxurious restaurant rented out just for the two of you.
it’s his way of making up for his distant nature towards you, he’ll even allow you to hear some stories about his past such as the day he got branded as a slave as he stares at you with a soft gaze and a subtly melancholic smile (he even permits you to call him by his real name, kakavasha!)
with sunday, I believe he’d be a tad bit paranoid when it comes to you
as a neat freak who desperately needs control over anything and everything, he feels like he needs to have some form of control over you as well
you’re very dear and precious to him after all, and he can’t just allow you to slip away from his hands like how robin did
his little bird servants are watching you day and night, making sure you don’t get into any trouble
and at the end of the day, he always asks you regarding what you did the entire day while using his ability to make others tell the truth—he has to make sure you didn’t do anything that would potentially get you into danger, no?
he feels guilty and regretful for resorting to such methods to ensure your complete safety, but he tells himself it’s better to be safe than sorry
if he can, he’ll try to have you by his side as much as possible so he can have you directly under his watch and protect you if necessary
he makes sure to handle you extra delicately and gently, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he helps you wash your hair
he even allows you privileges such as touching his sensitive wings as well as his halo, hoping it helps convey just how special you are to him
to him, you’re safer under his watchful eye and control as the two of you happily spend your days together
if anyone had even dared to imply that they would harm you, sunday would deal with it immediately and make sure you would never see them again
even with all the dirty work he does, you’ll understand, won’t you? everything he does is for you, after all.
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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)!
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melzula · 2 months
Note
I JUMPED WHEN I SAW REQUESTS OPEN
zuko unintentionally saying something he doesn’t mean to reader (ex. ur clingy/annoying) and makes the reader like kinda distant cus they don’t wanna be annoying or clingy yk? then he comforts them and says sorry and it’s very much a angst to fluff moment!
a/n: i love this trope
summary: your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior
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The apartment is empty when Zuko returns from the tea shop. His bones ache from standing all day and his mood is sour from having to serve customers, but it doesn’t distract him from the fact that something is missing. The place feels dull and lacks its normal warmth, and the change unnerves him.
“It seems y/n has not yet returned home,” Iroh observes as he flicks on the lamps to rid the room of darkness.
“Where did she go?” Zuko murmurs, doing his best to mask his anxiety over your absence. It’s not like you to stay out late, especially considering your apartment isn’t exactly in one of the safer rings of Ba Sing Se, and it worries him.
“I’m not sure. She seemed to be in a hurry when she left this morning,” the older man recounts as he scans the room to look for any trace of her left behind. “She didn’t even have her morning tea!”
“She could be in danger. I’m going to search for her.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“No, one of us should stay here in case she comes back,” Zuko states before making his way out the door. “I don’t want her to come home to any empty apartment.”
“Be sure to watch your temper if you do find her, nephew. Y/n is struggling to adjust to this new life just as you are, and it is important you are patient with her.”
The Prince says nothing in response to his Uncle’s words, but he immediately feels the guilt and shame that they bring him. His warning serves as a reminder for his recent behavior, and Zuko is then able to figure out why you were nowhere to be found.
You’d been eating breakfast together that morning before he had to leave for work, and despite his irritable mood you seemed to be eager to start the day.
“I was thinking of visiting the market place to buy fresh groceries for dinner tonight. Maybe I could stop by the tea shop and bring lunch for you and your Uncle,” you suggested with a pleasant smile.
“Sure,” Zuko had grumbled in response before forcing another spoonful of bland porridge down his throat.
“And after dinner we can visit the fountain,” you had said with an excited smile. “I’d love to take a walk through the city and get some fresh air. We hardly ever leave the apartment.”
“This city is nothing but dirt. There’s nothing to see out there.”
“Oh,” you had murmured, your features deflating slightly at his negative comments. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can just stay in and play a game of pai sho instead. I’m not exactly sure how to play, but I bet you could teach me! It could be fun!”
“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?!” Zuko had finally snapped harshly, his patience finally having been worn thin by your ceaseless suggestions. He didn’t want to take a stroll or play pai sho or have any sort of fun, and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t get that. “This isn’t some little vacation. I failed to capture the Avatar and now we’re stuck here, do you understand? Go play pai sho with someone else.”
The room had grown deathly silent after Zuko’s outburst, and he was too annoyed to notice the way you kept your gaze glued firmly to the table to avoid him see the welling tears in your eyes. Without another word, you quietly excused yourself from the table and made your way out the door without an explanation or a goodbye. Zuko hadn’t seen you since.
“I’m such a jerk,” he curses himself as he roams the streets in search of you. You’re not in the market place and you’re not by the fountain, so where could you be? He’s beginning to worry, his mind conjuring up multiple scenarios where you’re in trouble and he can’t help you. It’s pure torture.
A familiar laugh floats through the air, and Zuko feels the hairs on his neck stand up at the soothing melody. He’s quick to follow the sound, and as he shoves his way through the crowded streets he finds himself coming to a stop at a small noodle shop. The shop is practically tucked into a corner and isn’t much to look at, but the inside is full of life as patrons eat and converse and enjoy the camaraderie. At the heart of the restaurant sits a table full of people focused on the game of pai sho before them, and at the center of the table you sit with a large grin and a white lotus tile in your hand.
“I can’t believe I won!” You exclaim with an excited clap of your hands before looking to the older woman sitting next to you. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to play. This is the most fun I’ve had in months!”
“Y/n?” Zuko calls, garnering the attention of you and your new friends at the table. The airy laughter and pleasantries die down at the sight of him and the room is suddenly filled with tension.
“Oh, hello, Lee,” you greet dully, your cheerful demeanor immediately disappearing when you make eye contact with the boy.
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?”
“You said to go play pai sho with someone else, so that’s what I’m doing,” you state bluntly, and Zuko looks away guiltily after hearing his own words repeated back to him.
“Can you please just come home? You shouldn’t be out on the streets this late, it’s dangerous.”
“Why do you care?” You retort harshly. “I’m having fun here. These people actually want my company.”
“Y/n,” Zuko says with an irritated sigh, doing his best to remain patient. “Please. If not for me then for Uncle. He’s just as worried for your safety as I am.”
You hesitate at his words, but after a moment of contemplating you finally excuse yourself from the table. You bid your new friends goodbye and promise to return for another game sometime before following Zuko out of the restaurant and beginning your walk back home.
“The moon is out tonight,” he notes quietly in an attempt to make small talk, but you don’t reply. You keep your gaze forward and maintain a respectable distance from him as you walk. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.”
“Congratulations for figuring that out,” you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. Having finally had enough, Zuko grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks and force you to look at him.
“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs earnestly. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done.”
“Good, you should feel bad!” You exclaim angrily, harshly yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we got to Ba Sing Se, and now that I’m finally giving you the space that you wanted you come and ruin my fun!”
“I don’t want space from you,” he insists desperately. “I was being an idiot! Y/n, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just feeling irritable and I took it out on you, but that isn’t fair of me.”
“I’m not going to be your punching bag for the rest of my life, Zuko,” you relent quietly, blinking back the tears that begin to form. “All I want is to start over, but you’re making it so difficult. Why did we even come here?”
“We came here because I realized you deserved better than to constantly live your life on the run,” he admits softly, carefully taking your hands in his own. “I know I’ve failed to make you happy or treat you the way you deserve, but you have to know that I care for you. The best part of my day is coming home to you after work, and I never want you to feel like a burden because you aren’t.”
“Thank you for saying that,” you sniffle with a meek smile, and when he pulls you into his arms for a hug you don’t protest. “I know this has been hard for you, but you have to understand that all I want is to support you and make the change as easy as possible for you.”
“I know, and I’ll forever be grateful for everything you do,” Zuko says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now let’s get home before Uncle begins to worry.”
You say nothing more as he puts a protective arm around you and guides you through the streets of Ba Sing Se. The move has been tough, but he swears then that he’s going to do his best to improve his attitude and give you the support you need.
He has a lot of making up to do.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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sttoru · 9 months
Text
A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !
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ෆ sypnosis. shiu kong catches toji and you in the living room. toji decides to invite shiu into the fun and he agrees after some deep thinking.
ෆ note. this is a part two to this post ! make sure to read that one first. &&i’m happy u all enjoyed the first part ehhh.. i tried my best w this one too, enjoy. also not entirely proof read so excuse the possible mistakes. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. dom!toji (+shiu) x female reader. three some, blowjob, breast play, objectification, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), cum play, free use, dacryphilia, creampies, male masturbation, voyeurism-ish, multiple orgasms, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, doggy style, breeding mention. toji’s mean, shiu a bit less.
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“fine, but we have ten minutes.”
shiu kong crosses the room in a couple strides, hands skilfully removing piece after piece of his clothing until he was left in nothing. you couldn’t quite figure out the unreadable expression on shiu’s face once he came close enough to toji and you on the leather couch.
it was impossible to do so through your tears. plus, due to the man on top of your body guiding your head back to look him in the eyes.
“just because he’s joining doesn’t mean y’re allowed to take those eyes off of me.” if toji wasn’t just a fling, you could’ve sworn that those words were said out of jealousy or possessiveness. even if he was the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.
toji hisses and grunts as he pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in twice as hard. your screams of pleasure were like music to his ear. and not only to toji’s ears; shiu was having a hard time holding his usual calm self together every time he hears your sensual moans.
“shit..” shiu curses under his breath, his demeanour slowly falling apart because of the sight in front of him. but, also because he secretly desires to be the one getting those reactions out of your mouth, “she’s quite noisy, eh?”
toji laughs a bit; a mean (almost condescending) laugh, “yeah— maybe we can see which one of us can make her even noiser, whadd’ya think?”
“..or ya can just make her shut up by stuffing that mouth full. your choice.”
your hands were trembling as they try to hold onto any solid object you could spot out of your peripheral vision. your tears withheld you from seeing toji’s agent masturbating; shiu’s rough hand was swiftly gliding up and down on his cock—coating it with his own pre-cum. if it wasn’t for his desire to dump his cum in any of your holes, he’d have released it all over his own hand already.
“i think i’ll put that mouth of hers to use.” shiu had lost the internal battle of keeping himself together as he walked closer to you, standing near your head and gently tapping the tip of his cock on your plump lips, “you know, toji’s told me you’re good at sucking men off and i’ve always wanted to test that claim myself.”
your eyes slightly widen in response, unable to comprehend anything in this situation you got yourself in. neither toji nor shiu cared about that; they just cared about the pleasure you were going to be giving them.
“c’mon,” toji grins and pulls out of you completely, looking down at his throbbing cock which was covered in your fluids before flipping you around on your stomach, “y’re gonna be a good little slut and suck that man off, yeah?”
shiu takes notice of toji’s action and immediately gets into position like the two have done this many times before with other women. the agent takes a seat in front of you, legs spread to give you a nice view of what he was packing between them. shiu’s back was resting against the armrest as his eyes were scanning your face from up close, “what a pretty girl.”
your mouth was watering more than it did previously, drops of saliva running down your chin as you stared at shiu’s cock in front of you. a harsh slap to your ass makes you squeal lightly and your pussy clench onto nothingness.
“i said something, didn’t i?” toji clicks his tongue while he checks out your ass in his position behind you, “get to work.”
your hands found their way to shiu’s thighs and they slid up until they were wrapped around the base of his cock. an almost unnoticeable grunt left shiu’s lips once he felt that jolt of pleasure run through his body from your simple touch. he had waited so long for this.
“fuck— take me in your mouth.” the older man breathlessly orders. you swallow the built-up saliva in the back of your throat and stick your tongue out to lick the tip of shiu’s dick— testing the waters first. as expected, shiu was easy to please since the man was already moaning and breathing heavy when you hadn’t even started yet.
toji looks down at the two and sees how you tease shiu by using your tongue. shiu was trembling a little, biting his bottom lip while one of his hands was tangled in your hair. the agent was trying very hard not to reach his climax already. not when he hasn’t felt your mouth around his cock at least once.
a smirk forms on toji’s lips as he sees the desperation and lust written all over shiu’s face. toji knew that you were good at giving blow jobs; the little teasing you did beforehand—where you’d hold eye contact with him while licking his length in small intervals—added to the entire experience.
“seems like you haven’t had any action in a while, huh?” toji grins while pumping his cock at the sight of you finally starting to suck shiu off. his hand moved in slow strokes, the other placed on your ass, prepared to slap it if you were caught slacking off.
“shut up, toji— shit!” shiu gasps and throws his head back once your mouth engulfs the fat tip of his dick. the warmth and wetness around his throbbing cock was driving him mad, “if i wasn’t too busy cleaning after your mess, i’d have a woman in my bedroom every day of the week.”
you held eye contact with shiu as he makes small talk with toji whom you couldn’t even see. you start bobbing your head in repeated up and down motions, his cock going in and out of your warm mouth, leaving it completely covered with your saliva in no time.
“fuckkk— she’s good.” shiu groans while his hand tugged at your hair, pressing down on your head to hit the back of your throat—the tip of your nose just a centimetre away from his lower abdomen, “way better than expected.”
that gains a small proud chuckle from toji. the assassin was starting to move, lining up his still hard cock against your entrance, “told ya. she sucks cock like a real fuckin’ slut—always knows what to do.”
shiu fully believes those uttered words as he sees you desperately suck him off, hands playing with his balls and sometimes stroking the rest of his length which you couldn’t fit in your mouth. your tears and drool were dripping down between his legs.
a muffled moan vibrates against shiu’s dick the moment you felt toji bully his way into your cunt again. this causes shiu to thrust his hips forward, making you almost choke at the unexpected movement.
“mhh, that’s hot.” shiu breaths out while holding onto your hair with both hands now, ready to repeat his actions since it added to his own pleasure, “do it again, come on—yeahhh— good girl.”
as you choke and slobber all over shiu’s length, toji starts to roughly pump back and forth, hands on your hips to keep your lower body up to meet his— “your cunt is so fuckin’ tight compared to before—fuck— bet it’s ‘cause you’re a slut who enjoys getting both her holes filled at the same time.”
toji smacks your ass a couple of times as his cock penetrates your cunt to its deepest point, “maybe we can fill a third one soon, don’cha think?”
yes, he was implying what you were thinking; anal sex. the nasty thought made you whimper and squirm under toji while continuing to move shiu’s cock in and out of your wet mouth in rapid strokes. shiu reacts to this by bucking his hips up again and again, moaning and grunting loudly, as was toji.
shiu looked down at you through his half closed eyes, enjoying the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. especially because you were crying as well; it made you look pathetic and helpless yet so attractive.
“fuck— with the way you’re sucking me off, i’m going to cum soon,” shiu says between shallow breaths, seeing your body powerlessly shift back and forth due to toji’s intense thrusts, “mhm— better swallow it all, okay?”
you let out a long, strangled moan. it wasn’t clear whether it was due to toji pounding you or shiu asking you that lewd favour. either way, shiu bucked his hips up one last time, hands clenching around your hair to push your head down all the way to the base of his cock before spurting his hot cum right down your throat—the taste bitter on your tongue.
“swallow,” the older man in front of you reminds you with a hoarse voice, keeping his dick between your lips to make sure you do as told before gradually taking it out with a hiss.
shiu taps the tip on your mouth a little to get the last drops of semen on your lips for you to lick off. toji’s agent started to lazily stroke his dick again, trying to make it hard so he could fuck you as well.
“mhh, want to cum in your pussy. maybe even breed you, huh?” shiu murmurs. his words were solely meant to fuel his desires and get his cock hard again, yet the thought could easily be made a reality.
toji groans as he hears his agent’s dirty talk about breeding you. this causes him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back while he angled his hips in a way to hit your cervix repeatedly.
“fuck, i might even let him do that to ya—let him dump his load into your pussy along with mine.” toji grins, feeling like his cock was swelling even more with each deep thrust, “how ‘bout we try that out?”
shiu takes the chance to watch your tits again as they come into view. his body was relaxing against the armrest of the trembling couch, one hand reaching out to cup a breast and squeeze the hardened nipple.
“ah! yes, y-yes, wan’ both of your cum inside me, please.” you plead and your back arches from all the sensations the two men were granting you in this moment. toji groans loudly at your words, feeling even more turned on than ever and he makes that known.
“yeah? fuck— y’re such a desperate, greedy whore.” toji mocks and continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. shiu was still squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples, going from one to the other,
“just hold on, little girl— gonna stuff you full first.” toji adds and thrusts a couple more times before you sense that familiar feeling again; toji’s cum flooding your insides until it can’t help but leak onto your thighs.
with a deep sigh, toji pulls out again to watch the white liquid overflow from your filled hole. shiu, in the meantime, was still admiring your tits and now used both hands to play with them.
you were too fucked out to see the way the two men were silently exchanging glances. toji nodded downwards at his place behind you and shiu understood: the two were changing places.
shiu let your breasts go and stood up, toji following afterwards. the assassin and his agent slowly swapped positions and stroked their cocks at the sight of your spent body, quivering and silently sobbing from overstimulation.
“mind if i borrow her from now on, toji? just from time to time.” shiu asks with a deep hum, enjoying the sight of toji’s cum leaking out of your hole and the way it stained your skin as the sticky fluid left trails down your thighs.
toji snickers as he was getting his cock hard again by looking at your tits and head between his legs,
“nah, i don’t mind. as long as she returns to me at the end of the day.”
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
Better Than Revenge
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)
a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift
warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.
Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.
Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.
It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.
It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.
You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.
“Do you have something you want to say?”
Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?
She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.
She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.
“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.
The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.
“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”
“Took you this long to pick up on that?”
You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.
“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.
“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”
“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”
“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.
“Oh, Gods. What?”
“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”
She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.
“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”
She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.
“I can do an hour.”
“Oh, really?”
“I have amazing self-control, actually.”
“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.
“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.
She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.
“Really,” she says again.
But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.
It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.
You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.
“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”
“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”
—-
The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.
You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.
You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.
“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”
“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”
Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.
You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”
You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.
You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.
“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”
You risk a small glance.
There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-
You stomach flips.
She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.
“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.
You look pointedly back at Phoebe.
“He’s eh,” you shrug.
“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”
“Is he really staring?” you ask.
“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”
You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.
She bumps your shoulder.
“Any updates with Clarisse?”
You smile, playing with your fingers.
“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”
“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.
“I know, I’m having so much fun.”
You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.
“He’s coming over here.”
“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.
“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”
You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.
“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.
“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.
He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”
He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”
Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.
—-
You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.
“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.
Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.
“You wore those shorts,” she says.
“For you.”
“Oh, you’re so mean.”
“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”
Clarisse laughs.
“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”
“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.
“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.
You turn to her.
“What did you just say to me?”
“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”
You put your face into her warm neck.
“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.
“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”
You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.
“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”
Her eyes blaze.
“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”
You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.
Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?
“Clar, I-”
She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.
Harry walks around the table, smiling.
“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.
Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.
“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.
She looks at you at the corner of her eye.
You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.
“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?
Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.
“She looked cold,” he says.
She finally realizes what happened.
“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”
His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”
She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.
“Girlfriend,” she hisses.
“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”
She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”
Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.
Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.
“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”
Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.
“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.
She punches him in the face.
“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.
A crowd has formed around you.
Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.
“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.
“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”
“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.
“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-
“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.
Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.
“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.
“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”
It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.
“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”
“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.
“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.
You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.
“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.
After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.
Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.
She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.
She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.
She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.
As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
—-
Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.
“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.
“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.
“The contest. We should have stayed-”
You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”
She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.
“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.
“Also, stop punching people.”
“That’s where I deny you.”
You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.
“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”
She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.
“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”
You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.
She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.
“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.
“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”
“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.
You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.
“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.
“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.
She doesn’t like to admit she lost.
You hover your lips right above hers.
“Say it.”
Her fingers dig into your hips.
“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”
“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.
And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.
“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”
—-
(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you)
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(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)
—-
clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces
y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme
@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend
2K notes · View notes
ceilidho · 3 months
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 4) part 1, part 2, part 3
-
You remember the lock turning on the door of another room.
Ice flooding your veins. Heart suddenly tripling in speed, flush against your breastbone, close to snapping your ribs and pumping right out. A man standing in front of the locked door, barring your only way out. Petrified, but not confused; it’d always been an inevitability, something you’d long been waiting to happen, but hoping beyond hope that maybe you’d skirt by it unscathed. 
You’re in a bedroom, but you’re also in a study hundreds of miles away, cabinets along the walls filled with jade carvings and porcelain trinkets, bookcases filled with untouched first editions with the spines still stiff, a leather chair tucked into wide mahogany desk, and a grandfather clock ticking ominously in the corner. And you’re watching a man come into the room and lock the door, shutting you both inside. 
There is a bust of the same man in the corner of the room. When you sink into the memory, your eyes drag there and hold.
“Honey? Honey, are you alright?”
You come back to yourself at the sound of another man’s voice. When you blink, the memory leeches out of the corners of your eyes and you find Price looking down at you with some concern, a slight furrow between his brows. You shudder out the memory until it’s wrung out, until you’re dry of it. Sweat cools on the back of your neck. There’s a tremble in your hand that you notice when you go to rub your forehead, a shake that even Price notices, taking your wrist and pulling it to his chest.
There is no bust in the corner of the room here. The man that locked the door holds your wrist tenderly to his chest and waits for you to answer, his lips still sloped down. The black spots fade from your vision one by one, panic retreating back into your bones. It leaves a too big hole inside of you. 
You know it’s still within you. It slumbers in the marrow of your bones; it cowers in there, sometimes close enough to kiss or close enough to cradle your head and crack it against the nearest ledge. 
“Honey?” he asks again. The deep tenor of his voice moves something back to life inside of you, as much as it pains you to admit. Even to yourself. 
You blink up at him, only realizing how dry your mouth is when you croak out, “I’m—I’m alright. Apologies.”
He doesn’t seem much convinced. Perhaps he has a right to doubt your words. You can’t see the tormented thing staring back at him. 
“I’ve given you a few too many frights today,” Price sighs, head dropping towards you, like drawing a curtain around the two of you. “Thought maybe you needed a bit of a push, but you’re not quite there, darling, are you?”
“Not where?” you ask, lost. “Where am I not?”
For once, he doesn’t answer, doesn’t try to force his vision into your head. It shocks you when he dips his head to press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for several moments. Breathing you in. You let him linger there, half-curious yourself, a softness suffusing into you like breath. 
“Are you hungry enough to eat? Or straight to bed?”
His words give you a nervous thrill, but when you catch his eye, there’s nothing to read there. Absent of double meaning. He’s asking you if you’re hungry and if you’re wanting to eat. 
“No.” You shake your head. “I’m still…well, I’ve had a bit of a cramp all afternoon. I don’t think I’m up to eating.”
“Not even tea or cake?”
The thought intrigues you, but not enough for your stomach to untwist. “Tomorrow, maybe.”
He hums against your forehead, then presses another kiss there, then a third on your temple, breathing out a puff of air that blows across your face and tickles your nose. “Not hungry for anything then,” he surmises, and you hear it there, the silvery flipside of an innuendo. You scrunch up your nose and flinch when he chuckles. “How about just a bath then? And then we’ll tuck in for the night.” 
“That sounds nice. Do you, um…I could help if you want?"
“Already fetched the water earlier today. Wash tub’s downstairs. You can stay here or come down and wait until the water’s warm.”
Finally, he pulls back and puts some space between the two of you. Something buried deep in your chest clicks when he unlocks the door and steps out. You try not to look at it too hard. 
You follow him downstairs, more out of habit than anything. With the water already fetched from the well and Price starting a fire to heat it up enough for a warm bath, there’s not much for you to do besides wait, but you join him downstairs anyway, taking the time to look around. 
“Toothpowder, brushes, and mint are in the drawer under the sink if you need any,” Price tells you. You don’t bother with the mint, but you use the rest to clean your teeth in the bathroom sink, a bowl of water already waiting for you to help rinse your mouth. You rethink the mint afterwards, chewing on a couple of leaves to rid your mouth of the chalky aftertaste. 
It takes awhile to heat up enough water for a bath, giving you time to peruse the rest of the house. After spending the bulk of your day locked up in his room, it’s nice to stretch your legs and move about. The rest of the house is fairly typical, barebones; Price heats up the water in a stone fireplace in the main room and at the other end of the house, you find the kitchen.
The crickets in the bushes out front are louder than you’ve ever heard them. For a moment, you stand alone by the front door, fingers twitching by your sides. It wouldn’t do you any good to run, but your feet feel quick now, light after hours of rest. You could bolt like an Appaloosas if you wanted to. 
Then Price calls your name and you drift back to the other room.
Steam billows off the water in the metal tub. It’s only halfway filled, which makes you frown; you have no right to be picky after the days you’ve spent cleaning yourself with a damp washcloth over a porcelain bowl, but you can’t help thinking that it’ll hardly come up to your waist. Still, staring at the warm water makes your skin itch; you could practically kiss the bar of soap sitting on the floor next to the tub. If there wasn’t a man in the room, your dress would already be on the floor. 
“Are you still waiting on more to heat up?” you ask, casting a glance at the fireplace where a small flame still burns. There isn’t a bucket of water hovering over it though, just a poker stowed back in its place. 
“Any more and I’ll be mopping up water for the rest of the night,” he huffs. “That’s more than enough for us.”
“Us?” you repeat. 
It only makes sense when you turn around and stare wide-eyed at Price as he untucks his shirt and starts at the buttons, each one slipped through the hole exposing a new inch of chest covered in dark hair. You make a noise at the back of your throat, half-aghast. The other half, indeterminate. If your feet weren’t glued to the floor, you’d stop him or grab his hands. Instead, you watch mutely as he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his pants, mouth drying at each new slab of muscle revealed.
You swallow reflexively when his pants pool around his ankles on the floor. You catch a glimpse of thick thighs covered in dark hair and something heavy dangling between his legs before you avert your eyes, staring straight up at the ceiling. Sure to give yourself a kink in your neck, but perhaps forgivable this time. 
“Us?” It comes out squeaky this time, high and tight in your throat. Price laughs.
When he moves towards you, you can hardly so much as lift a finger to keep him at bay. Your body feels tethered in place, sluggish and inert. The world moves around you instead, doubly so when Price fits his hands at your waist and twists you to face away from him. 
Big hands ruck up the fabric of your dress, slowly pulling it over your head. You lift your arms for him on command, the whole time baffled by how little struggle you put up. You imagine him telling that deputy of his what an obedient little bride he’s found for himself. 
“Us,” Price confirms, emphasizing the word the same way you did. “We’d be here all night if we took turns. Water’d be ice cold by then too. You’d rather I freeze my nethers off?” You open your mouth to reply but he cuts you off. “Don’t answer that.”
That pulls a real giggle from your chest, shocking you both. Breath sits like a bubble in your chest. You feel his fingers still at the ties of your corset before pulling it through. 
He loosens each lace slowly, giving each a gentle pull. It’s nerve wracking, nail-biting tedium, the corset gradually giving way to his touch and drooping into your waist. You let him undo each of the hooks and unwrap it from your torso before pulling off your chemise underneath, flesh chilling in the open air. Even stationed behind you, you feel his stare like a heavy, weighted thing. His fingertips trace over the naked skin of your back, looping small circles just for the pleasure of touching your skin. 
Gooseflesh runs down the length of your arms, shivering from his touch as much as the cool air. You tell yourself that it means nothing just to put it all away.
“Alright, let’s get you washed up,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat. “Been awhile since you had a warm bath, I bet.” 
You turn part way around, watching him from the corner of your eye. If only he knew. 
Price gets in the tub first and it’s immediately obvious to you why he hardly filled the tub. His body takes up so much room that you frown when you realize that he expects you to get in next. It’s one of the bigger tubs you’ve ever bathed in and yet he still has to bend his knees. The sigh he lets out after relaxing against the back of the tub makes you shiver. 
When he glances up at you swelteringly, you hear the evocation unspoken. 
“If you’d just give me a minute,” you snap. 
“Darlin’.” 
The note of warning in his voice finally tips you over the edge of hesitancy where you’d been precariously balanced. 
The water is still warm when you dip a foot tentatively in. It’s easier to ignore the indulgent smile on Price’s face than engage with it, sure you’d shout yourself hoarse if you finally let your composure crack. 
You think it vaguely humiliating to have to turn around in front of Price in the tub in order to lower yourself to sit. He doesn’t touch you yet, but there’s no way to avoid the weight of his eyes on your backside. It’s not something you’ve thought about much before. A man’s hands on you, stripped bare for him, lowering yourself into a hot bath with him. 
You peek over your shoulder. “Do you ever stop staring?”
A pointless question. He doesn’t even meet your eye to respond, just stares at the curve of your ass with heavy lidded eyes, the faintest pink hue high on his cheeks. He hums instead. You purse your lips.
The water sloshes up the side of the tub when he pulls you down abruptly, settling your back against his chest. You stiffen in the cradle of his arms and chest, acutely aware of every point of your body pressed into his. When Price sighs now, it reverberates through your back and chest. 
“Why does it feel like you’ve been run against a whetstone?” he asks. The sound drips heavy from his lips because the room is silent apart from him, apart from the gentle lapping of the bath water against the sides of the tub and the water trickling from the washcloth when he lifts it out of the water and gives it a wring. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, frowning. 
“You’re all sharp, all hard edges. If I’m not careful, you might run me through.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you married me,” you huff. 
That gets another laugh out of him, raising your hackles. It’s hard to differentiate between ridicule and endearment. You opt for the former to guard yourself, to keep yourself safe. 
“I’ll take my chances.”
You can’t think of a way to respond to that. It’s loaded in an uncomfortable way. It’s easier to just let it pass into silence. Price doesn’t seem anxious for you to respond anyway, thankfully, instead reaching out of the tub to grab the bar of soap still on the floor. The movement pushes his pelvis into you, the length between his legs pressing against the small of your back. You jolt forward only for him to wrap an arm around your waist and haul you back. More water splashes over the rim.
“Christ, you’re skittish,” he gripes. 
“What do you expect me to do?” You squirm in his hold, which only makes his arm constrict tighter around you, drawing you even closer. 
“Sit there and let me wash you, for one. What’s got you all riled up?”
“You know exactly what,” you say, face hot when you feel it press against you again. 
“My—”
“Yes, that,” you hiss, digging your nails into his forearm. 
“Squirming around isn’t gonna make it go away,” Price teases, squeezing once before finally letting you go. You scoot forward as much as he allows, but it’s for naught; you can feel it press against you still. 
In the brief silence, Price lathers up the cloth until it froths, then puts the bar of soap back down on the floor. You almost stop him to say that you can wash yourself, but he starts on your arms before you’re so much as able to part your lips. 
Your nipples bead when he drags the washcloth over your chest. The material is coarse, almost abrasive, and when you wince, Price murmurs a soft apology into your ear. He’s softer when he pulls your legs one after the other from the water and sets your foot on the rim of the tub, dragging the cloth over your calves and up the inside of your thighs. You shake when his hand disappears under the water, biting your lip until it hurts.
You sit with the silence instead of electing to fill it. It’s better that way anyway; words can unravel so many interiorities that long for stasis. And what has the man at your back done to earn your words anyway, besides lock you up and throw away the key?
You’ll figure your way out eventually. It’s only a matter of time. 
His own washup is perfunctory, performed only to get it over with. None of the affection reserved for washing you. He barely makes you lean forward before dragging the cloth haphazardly across his chest, getting a few good scrubs in before calling it a day. 
“I can’t imagine why you’d spend so much time filling a bath just to wash up in five minutes,” you say, peering over your shoulder at him. Expressly not focusing on the pillowy muscles of his chest or the dark, wet hair now flush with his skin. 
“Haven’t used the tub in months,” he grunts, dunking the cloth in the bath water until it comes out clean. He wrings it dry before hanging it over the rim. “There’s a creek out back, ‘bout a ten minute walk from here.”
You frown. “You usually bathe in a creek?” 
“What’s the point in spending time heating up enough water for a bath when there’s a perfectly good creek nearby? Water’s water.”
“You did it for me.”
“That’s different.”
You roll your eyes. “It shouldn’t be.”
“You like to fuss over nothing, huh?” Price remarks. Again, it’s said so earnestly that it makes your skin prickle. 
When you stand, the water rushes off you in a wave, leaving you slick and cooling rapidly in the air. Your teeth clatter until he steps out of the tub to fetch you a towel, wrapping you up in it and patting you dry. You get a bit dizzy when he kneels before you to dry your legs, swaying on your feet. Under your breath, you mumble something like, you don’t have to. 
He ignores you. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you let it go. 
Your bare feet pick up stray dust and debris on your way back up the stairs alone. You wipe them off on the mat at the door before changing into your shift while Price empties the tub downstairs. The oil lamp on the bedside table illuminates most of the room when you light the wick and delicately put the chimney back in place, apart from the elongated shadows that hang from the corners like spiderwebs. 
The bed looks different when you know you’re meant to share it. You try not to tense up too much when you hear Price come up the stairs, eyeing him nervously from the other side of the room. 
“You’ve got that look again, darling,” he says, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it this time. The knot in your shoulder aches when they untense. 
“What look?” you ask, averting your gaze when he drops the towel to change into his nightwear.
“Like a doe.”
You snort, distinctly unladylike. “Like a deer before it’s shot?”
“The very same. Didn’t I tell you it’d be straight to bed?”
You open your mouth but nothing comes out. In the back of your mind, you must have assumed he was placating you, saying words just to soothe. It’s rare that men speak plainly and mean it. Over the years, you’ve learned to read into second meanings and real intentions couched in soft words. Men like to think themselves simple, but you know a vast underground world. 
Some part of you grows anxious with your own inability to play the part of his simpering wife. He must have thought he’d be taking to bed something nurturing and with wings. It’d be easier if you just acquiesced; you can’t imagine he’d worry so much about his doting wife fleeing in the middle of the night. Not the wife happy to spread her legs for him.
“Why are you so patient?” you ask him outright instead. 
He takes a moment to answer, studying you. His face by lamplight is inscrutable. “Nothing good comes plucked too soon.”
“You don’t think that God gave you the right to—” You can’t say the words, but he understands. 
“The methods of God take pickaxes and shovels to uncover,” Price says, so simply, so plainly. You hardly understand what he means. “It’s not a man’s place to rush to understand His intentions.”
You think it’s almost unfair for a man to say those words to you when you plan on running away from him. It makes you dig your nails into the palms of your hands. 
You’re still nervous when you crawl into bed, eyeing him when he settles on his side and turns the lamp off, cupping his palm around the glass and blowing out the flame. There’s little to worry about though. Price doesn’t so much as shift from his side of the bed. 
The world outside is beyond gold and red now, when you stare out the window from where you lie on your side. When you think of the past, it comes with a searing pain. Then, it is no more.
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basicinstnct · 11 months
Text
can’t quit you / miguel o’hara
Tumblr media
word count: 1642
tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues
ao3 link: here
summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.
a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!
small prequel: here
“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).
“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.
“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.
“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”
You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.
“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.
He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.
Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.
“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”
“I’m not saying no…” 
Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”
If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.
You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.
“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.
It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.
“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.
“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric. 
“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”
“Please what?”
“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”
“All you have to do is ask, baby.”
You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth. 
You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.
“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”
Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.
“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.
“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”
“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.” 
He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.
“Are you…” You can’t say the words.
You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.
“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.” 
“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.
He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm. 
You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you. 
You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.
It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”
You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”
“There are no girls.”
“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”
You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.
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luveline · 2 days
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grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻
You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 
“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 
“Hi, mom.”  
You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 
“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 
“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 
“It’s him I’m calling about.” 
“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 
“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 
It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 
You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 
The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 
He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 
Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 
“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 
Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 
Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 
She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 
Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 
“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 
He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 
“What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 
He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 
You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 
He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 
“Let me sit you down,” he says. 
“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 
He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 
“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 
He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 
It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 
He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 
You close your eyes. 
“Rough day?” you ask. 
“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 
You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 
“How’s that?” 
“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 
“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 
“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”
“No, I know.” 
His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 
You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 
He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 
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