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#i can’t believe all their curses are still going strong
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Brand New One Shot - Second Preview
I cooked a little :3c
Warning for masturbation!
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You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but perhaps you came on a little strong. Plus your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more as you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stoked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips. Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running til you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer seemed to avoid you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous, after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it first hand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
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moghedien · 3 days
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I’m like sooo curious about the Aylin and Isobel after all this because we know they’re going help Selunite enclaves or whatever and I don’t think they’re ever gonna turn away from Selune really but I do wonder if there’s like a twinge of something about their relationship with the goddess now
because again I don’t think they’re gonna turn from her, but they both have their issues and trauma now. Aylin’s is a bit more obvious but I can’t stop thinking about how the game basically tells you that Isobel came back wrong and then never acknowledges that again.
Obviously she didn’t come back as wrong as some of her kin, but the first time we see her she seems ill with something. You can kinda dismiss that as being related to the Shadow curse without full context. Even if you read her diary, you can kinda dismiss it until you understand she’s Ketheric’s dead daughter.
Her diary:
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Like she clearly isnt being spurned by Selune completely as she still has cleric magic and can still protect Last Light, but the phrase “there are some things she would never accept in her devoted” is so ominous. Isobel clearly knows that Selune is having some problem with her and the fact that the problem isn’t as clear as being denied her magic makes it even more ominous. If not that, then what is happening that makes this clear to her?
Then there’s Aylin, who is literally the daughter of Selune, who was sent by her mother to the Thorms. And obviously there isn’t any regret there because of Isobel, but then the Isobel dies under vague circumstances that may or may not be Shar related based on cut content. Then the people that Selune sent Aylin to protect cage her and torture her and use her as a lab rat and organ donor and ritual sacrifice over and over again for the next 100 years.
Aylin was supposed to be an envoy of her mother and ended up being the instrument in which Shar made weapon after weapon. She’s unwillingly spreading the darkness she’s against and all because Selune sent her to these people. Literally 100 years where all she can do is die again and again until she can convince one Sharran to listen to her and not just kill her again.
And like, you can also take into account the possibility that Aylin is an oathbreaker now. I don’t personally buy the theory but I know a lot of people do suspect that her reaction to killing Lorrokan was due to it breaking her oath. I think it’s more likely a trauma response but we can look at this either way.
Because killing Lorrokan should have been the righteous move. He was trying to use and defile her, one of Selune’s children, for his own petty reasons. He was going to commit the same sins as Ketheric. And it wasn’t like Aylin was the only potential victim of him. We know he hurt Rolan, and no doubt many others. What would a man like that do with immortality?
But then killing him just makes her feel empty? She protected herself. Protected Selune’s sword and anyone else that might have been suffering under him. And it doesn’t fill her with the same righteous ecstasy that it should. Suddenly being the righteous paladin doesn’t feel good, it just feels empty.
And if you believe that it did break her oath, then what? She’s being punished by Selune for defending herself and others? She stopped Selune’s envoy from being used in the same profane ritual she just escaped from and gets rejected and punished for that? She’s the one accused of violating Selune?
Again, I don’t personally think the reaction was caused by breaking her oath, but I think it’s a compelling angle to look at, at least.
And all of this to say that again, I don’t think either of them are going to turn against Selune and I don’t think they have a very strong reason to. But I do wonder how their relationship with her has changed in the last 100 years while Aylin was being forced to die for Shar over and over again and Isobel was forced to live by Mrykul, completely unprotected by the moonmaiden they had both been absolutely devoted to.
I just wonder what was going through their heads when they talked to Shadowheart about her past and the fact that she has a choice now, that Selune would take her back after a life time of Sharran indoctrination and crimes committed in her name. Now she has a choice. I wonder if in that moment, there wasn’t even the smallest bit of bitterness toward Selune on their part.
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3xiles · 5 hours
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Sweet lies
Pairing • Toji x gn!reader
Warnings • Angst!, Cheating mentioned, suggestive, manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing, not proof read sorry!! lmk if i missed anything >.<
Word count • 405 words
A/n • This is my first time writing in a while LMAO. I hope you all enjoy! :)) Repost are always appreciated!
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You knew your marriage was going downhill the first time you caught him but, you being young, naive, and stupidly in love you let yourself believe the foolish lies that he would spill to you every night. The tongue that was used to pleasure another being the same one let the words “i love you” effortlessly roll off.
You met Toji when you were fairly young. A fresh college graduate moving away from home to a new city to start your new life. Things were going great! You were able to snag a great job as an accountant and you were making good money. You got a beautiful pent house apartment and were wearing clothes that years ago you thought you would never be able to afford and not to mention all at the age of 24. Yeah, things really were going great for you and things would still be that way if you just hadn’t gone out that night.
You had met a group of girls from this dance class you joined when you first moved and they somehow convinced you to go out clubbing with them one night. ‘What’s the harm in one night out?’ you repeated to yourself in your head, you were never really the clubbing type. Little did you know that one night would somehow change the course of your life. You met Toji on this night out.
He had this charm to him. Maybe it was something about a man that was older that got it you or the strong cologne that hit your nostrils as soon as he walked up. It could’ve been how smooth he was with his words and how dominating his presence was. At first glance he seemed scary but something about him made you feel… safe. Using that deep rasp voice and smooth combination of words he managed to bring you home that night.
It wasn’t something you were proud of, you didn’t like one night stands. Afterwards you were ashamed you would let yourself go like this, especially with a guy you just met not even 2 hours ago! You can’t lie tho, he was the best fuck you’ve ever had. He fell asleep shortly after so you took that as your que to leave. Before you leaving you left your number on his nightstand, you wanted to see more of him but it also made you feel better about the situation. Much to your surprise he ended up calling a few days later and asking you out on a date. It made you feel good, he wanted you. He wanted to turn into something. All that talk at the club wasn’t just to get in your pants, he actually liked you! You both went on more dates and shortly after began dating. It was a very nerve wracking experience for you, him being your first relationship since high school.
You fell hard. He made you feel things you’ve never felt before. He was all you wanted and more. He was nothing like the guys your age, he was grown. He was doing things for you that you’ve only seen with TV couples. Bringing you flowers while you were at work, random dates and gifts, and so much more. Toji was the man of your dreams but like every couple you guys had your ups and downs. The thing that made them all better, that damn mouth of his.
Toji’s words were your drug. He just always knew the right things to say. He had you right in the palm of his hand and you didn’t even know it. The things he has convinced you to do are unbelievable and looking back on it now you definitely wouldn’t have done them. Cutting off all your friends because in his words “They are all too immature” and “bad influences”, moving out of the apartment you loved so so much because he says would be better to wake up with you by his side and even quitting the job of your dreams.. because he promised he would take care of you. He didn’t want you to ever stress your pretty little head or lift one of your polished fingers. You began to rely on him, you began to need him.
About a year and a half into your relationship he proposed and of course you said yes! who were you to say no to him? He was providing for you, keeping you safe, the least you could do was tie the knot with him, right?
Biggest mistake of your life.
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part two???
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sopuu · 1 year
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1 left.
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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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kamaluhkhan · 4 months
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anti-curse
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pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader
summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.
warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3
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when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.
given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.
archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.
so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 
“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”
the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.
that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.
you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 
if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 
you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 
“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”
the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”
"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 
percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”
leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.
you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.
“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”
“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.
“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”
“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.
"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.
"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.
"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."
"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.
"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"
you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."
"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."
"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.
"that's...that's different."
"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"
you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.
"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.
"then what did you mean?"
percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”
“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”
percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 
“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.
“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 
her conclusion makes you freeze.
demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 
what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.
you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.
you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?
either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.
without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 
“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.
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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months
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As a follower who is also fatherless over the past few years, yes please, more Jack Henry. I want to make him my new daddy. And I want him to make me a mommy… 🙈🙈🙈🍆💦
Is this who we are as a society? 😭😭 because me too.
@amisalami03
First piece: You Are My Sunshine
Yandere Head Canon: Hold Onto Me
Yandere Dilf Sheriff x Afab Reader
TW: breeding kink, body worship, dubcon (alcohol), etc
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His calloused hands eagerly ran over the smooth skin of your stomach and hips. His lips fervently pressed against your navel, his scruff lightly scratching your delicate skin like tiny knives. It tickled
Earlier you had downed so much beer until your head rested on his shoulder and your hands squeezed his biceps. You told him he was strong and handsome… didn’t that mean you wanted him too?
Jack ignored the way you drunkenly tried to push his head away. You’d want this… you cried on his shoulder about how you couldn’t find a husband and he was more than willing to take that spot after he made you his woman tonight. And every night that followed
Jack ran his tongue down the fabric of your panties. He was undaunted from the way your body instantly recoiled at the touch.
“These have to go, darlin.” Jack huskily whispered, his fingers hook around the band of your underwear before he teasingly slid them down your thighs.
A low whistle escaped his lips as he eyed your bare body up and down. “Such a pretty thing you are… can’t believe you was hidin this under all yer clothes.”
You can only whine when he pressed a lingeries kiss to your lower regions before he dove right in. His lips eagerly sucked and licked you like you were his last meal.
Your head spun from the alcohol and the tumultuous lust that began to be built up in you from his ministrations. Your fingers tangled in his brown locks as you arched your back.
“Taste so fuckin good… ya’ve probably never had a man do this to ya.” Jack chuckled before he pulled his head away, his lips covered in your juices. “But I can take ya to new levels of pleasure.”
Jack guides your hand to touch the thick bulge in his boxers. You could feel him twitch in your palm in excitement.
“I’m gonna make ya my wife but first…” Jack guided your hand to pull down his boxers. His erect cock nearly jumped out to greet you. “I’m gonna make ya a mother.”
Jack scrambled to kneel between your legs. The sheriff spits a little on his palm to rub it up and down his shaft. The precum and saliva mixed together for more lubricant. “I’ve been wantin to do this fer so long now… ya have no idea how much a I want you.”
You try to scoot back but Jack grabs your leg and yanks you back towards him. A chuckle left his muscular chest. “No need to be so shy… I ain’t gonna bite ya… not yet at least.”
You gasp when you feel him slide the tip up and down your slit. Your eyes wide and your lips slightly parted as fear begun to over take you. There was no way he’d fit in you… he was so big.
“(Your name)? I love ya.” A scream erupted from your lips when he fully sheathed himself into you in one thrust. Your nails dug into his back to try to deal with the pain of the stretch. Your body trembled as it stretched to accommodate him. A hiss escaped Jack’s throat.
“So fuckin tight! I knew yer pussy would be good…” You just hold onto him as he stayed still and peppered your face with tender kisses. “My wife’s so perfect…”
You gasp when he gave one shallow thrust. Pleasure consumed your body from how deep he was. How he hit spots you didn’t even know you had… and Jack noticed your shift in mood immediately. A smirk now on his lips.
“Ya like that? Well,” Jack leaned down to whisper, his scruff tickled the shell of your ear. “This ‘ere is just the beginnin. Haven’t even started yet, darlin.”
And that’s when he begins to thrust. Your hands held him close as the mattress creaked beneath the two of you. You could see the bulge on your stomach from where his body met yours. The older man mumbled incoherent curses and praises as he began to fuck into you like a wild animal
“I’m gonna get your fuckin pregnant. Gonna give you a baby.” Jack hissed as his thrusts became sloppy. “Won’t let ya say no to bein mine. Gonna fuck this ‘ere perfect pussy every fuckin day till you know who you belong to…”
You only moan and gasp as he throws your legs over his shoulders so that you’re in a perfect mating press. His lips pressed against yours in a searing kiss as you felt your high slowly start to approach.
“Love ya so much… just be mine.” Jack hissed as he moved his lips to press hot kisses on your neck. “Yer all mine… my beautiful darlin.”
And that’s when he bit down on the junction between your shoulder and neck. The coil within you unraveled as you screamed out his name.
“Jack! Jack!” And that’s when you feel him shudder as a hot, sticky substance fills your womb. The sheriff whined as he continued to fuck into you , desperate to keep his and your high going for as long as possible until he inevitably goes soft.
“Fuck… fuck.” Jack collapsed on you and kissed the angry red mark he left on your neck. His mark. “That was amazin, darlin.”
You gasp when he suddenly flips your body on top of his. A smirk on his rugged face. “But it’s not over yet. Gotta make sure yer gonna be bearin my child.”
Jack rubbed your lovehandles with a smirk. “Now ya gonna ride this cowboy all night, darlin. Till the neighbors know my name and whose god damn baby yer gonna be havin.”
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sfznyxio · 1 month
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❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k words. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).
𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.
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𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.
rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.
what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere. 
there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?
will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?
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𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐀.
house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.
marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.
it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.
do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?
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𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.
the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.
on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.
he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?
will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?
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𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.
the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.
there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.
after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.
can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?
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𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃.
house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.
the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.
amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.
is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.
the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony. 
three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.
earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.
little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree. 
he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?
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𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐈.
house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.
lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.
soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?
why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.
no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.
you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.
his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.
what secrets have your people been hiding from you?
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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.
there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.
later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone. 
sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.
they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?
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roseykat · 6 months
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TITLE: Venom Biter
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PAIRING: Minho x reader
SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.
A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.
MASTERLIST
“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”
His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier. 
He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.
“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.
A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled. 
“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer. 
“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”
He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.” 
“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”
If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.
Though naturally, you became very close with them. 
“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”
Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.” 
“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.
“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod. 
Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you. 
There had to be another reason, surely. 
But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.
Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to. 
In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created. 
He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.
But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that. 
Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave. 
Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place. 
You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.
It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions. 
Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho. 
All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.
"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.
"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.
You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in. 
"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.
Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"
“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”  
“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question. 
“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?” 
“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."
Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.
“So why is half my stuff missing?” 
Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.” 
“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest. 
“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“ 
“No you fucking didn’t.” 
“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!” 
“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”
The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”
You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”
Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”
“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!” 
Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.
Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back. 
You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him. 
He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down. 
“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off. 
Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been. 
His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy. 
“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means. 
The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers. 
He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening. 
“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.
His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”
Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down. 
“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out. 
Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.
“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck. 
You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him. 
“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm. 
You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is. 
Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;
“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?” 
“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”
A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it. 
You curse right at him, “fuck you.” 
His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back. 
“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down. 
“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him. 
Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast. 
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. 
The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.
“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.” 
Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.  
Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back. 
“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.
Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts. 
Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm. 
His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”
At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm. 
“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length. 
The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.
He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.
The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.
“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.” 
You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.” 
Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more. 
"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.
“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."
“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."
"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."
Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."
“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."
He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”
Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.
It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him. 
"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.
But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”
There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.
-
A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...
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uluvjay · 3 months
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Couldn’t help falling in love- Q. Hughes
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Quinn Hughes x Fem! Reader (feat. Trevor Zegras)
In which you can’t help falling for Quinn
Warnings?; Slight angst, asshole Trevor, slightly suggestive, cursing, kissing, talks of drinking, playboy Trevor?, I apologize for any errors
Prev Part
You and Quinn had left the following night while everyone was asleep, he had told his brothers of your plan but nobody else knew.
According to Jack, Trevor thought you’d gone home to New York and believed that Quinn had to make an unexpected return to Vancouver over something with his apartment.
You and Quinn spent a week in the Bahamas, long days under the sun and in the ocean while your nights were full of delicious food and long talks on the balcony of your room.
Something had shifted during that week, you weren’t sure what it was but whatever it was had you making no moves to stop him when he pressed his lips against your on the last night.
When he pulled away you were as red as a fire truck and it wasn’t from the sunburn you had, and that night you two shared a bed rather then sleeping in your own separate queen beds.
However the second you two entered the airport you felt dread fill your stomach, he held a ticket to return to Michigan while yours was for New York.
There was an admission of feelings in the middle of the airport from Quinn, he had explained that he liked you and had for a while. Yoy told him you liked him back, Quinn made you feel a warmth in your chest that you had never experienced with anyone else before, not even Trevor.
However you opened up about how you were scared about getting into something right now and he understood. So over the next couple of months you two resorted into nonstop texting that had turned into late FaceTime calls that would go on for hours.
Until finally in March you had gotten a job to decorate a home all the way in Vancouver that would need you to stay there for at least three weeks and upon hearing the news, Quinn was thrilled.
He opened his apartment to you and you spent your entire trip wrapped up with him, movie marathons, Quinn showing you around to his favorite places, dinners, ice cream, and anything else the boy could think of.
You felt confident and content with Quinn, the way he always had a strong arm wrapped around you and introduced you as ‘His Girl’ to his teammates when you attended one of him games.
The butterflies in your stomach and persistent blush on your cheeks didn’t go away once while you were in Vancouver, and you weren’t mad about it.
Over the previous months you had taken time to grow as a person, learned to love yourself and noticed that what you felt with Trevor wasn’t true love.
It was silly feelings you’d had since you were younger, you had feelings for someone that didn’t exist anymore. You had feelings for the young and silly Trevor, the one who would stay up with you for hours playing board games and snacking on candy that went against his diet.
Not the Trevor that had grown during his time in the Nhl, the still silly and witty Trevor but he’d grown cocky. He had become someone new, someone you didn’t recognize. He no longer knew your favorite things and you didn’t know his.
He’d became the poster boy that scored cool goals and worked his ass off. The pretty boy that puck bunnies and models lined up for, the boy that could care less about your achievements and feelings. The boy that disregarded your emotions and blew up on you.
What you felt with Quinn was new, fresh, your chest wasn’t filled with anxiety and worry. It was now warm and full of love, you didn’t worry when you told him you were ready for more if he was too.
That night he showed you just how ready he was, he took you to dinner at his favorite restaurant, then when you returned to his apartment he walked you to his bedroom and took off your clothes one by one.
He took care of your body in a way you never felt before, it wasn’t sex, he made love to you. He took his time and learned your body, learned the things that pulled those little whimpers from your throat, and the things that made you cry out his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear.
He woke you up the next morning with flowers and breakfast in bed, he made all your favorite breakfast foods and had gotten your favorite flowers.
After the two of you ate he had asked you to be his girlfriend, and he’d never felt such joy before when you said yes and pulled him into a deep kiss.
And now you two were gearing up for your arrival to the lake house. Sitting in the backseat of an Uber on the way to the house.
Trevor was already there along with Cole, Alex, and some of the other guys that came every year.
“Nervous?” Quinn asked softly from his spot beside you, his thumb rubbing soothingly along you legging covered thigh.
“Not really, I missed your brothers and everyone. It’s just going to be weird seeing Trevor after what happened.” You shrugged, eyes looking out the window.
“Hey” he called softly, hooking a finger under your chin and turning your head to face him. “It’ll be okay. It’s my house and if he has a problem then he can leave”
You smiled at him and whispered a small thank you and before you knew it you were pulling up to the large lake house.
Quinn got out first and made his way around to the back of the car to get your bags while you gathered up your things and took a deep breath before exiting the car.
Jack was already waiting on the porch when you two got there. There was a large smile on his face as he pulled his brother in a tight hug despite his dripping hair and soaked body, No doubt getting right out of the pool when he heard a car pull up.
He moved onto you next and an evil smirk over took his face as he watched you step back from not wanting to get wet.
“No I’ll give you a hug once you dry off.” You laughed trying to get around him and into the house, however you weren’t fast enough and he had you up in the air running outside.
You could hear Quinn laughing as he followed behind and as you made it outside the familiar hoots and hollers of Luke and his friends filled the air.
“Jack, no! Don’t do it.” You laughed as he neared the edge of the pool.
“Give me one good reason”
“If you won’t then I won’t kick your a-“ however you were cut off as your body was submerged in ice cold water.
“Jack Rowden! You asshole.” You coughed as you made it back to the top.
The boy was bent over in laughter as he clenched his stomach while your boyfriend was beside him offering you his hand with a towel in the other.
“Come on I got you.” He laughed and you took his hand allowing him to Pull you from the cold water and wrap you in a fluffy towel.
You pushed Jack in from his spot next to you, a laugh of your own bubbling from your throat as his body splashed into the water.
“Payback bitch!” You called behind you as you wrapped your arm around Quinn’s waist and made your way back into the house.
You took a fast shower in Quinn’s bathroom before returning to the room where he was unpacking your suitcases.
“Can you hand me a bathing suit and one of your shirts please.” You asked him softly.
Quinn nodded as he reached into your suitcase and grabbed the first one he saw, a dark blue one to match his jerseys.
He smirked as he remembered you ordering it a few weeks ago, “come here.” He called.
You blushed as you shuffled over to him, his large hands removing the towel you had wrapped around your body. He grabbed the bottoms and kneeled down in front of you, holding them open for you to step into them before he slid them up your smooth legs.
He picked up the flimsy top before motioning for you to spin around, he placed the cups over your breasts before securing the bottom ties, his hands slowly moving up to tie the top ones.
You shivered as you felt his warm breath against your neck, his beard prickling your skin as his lips kissed along the side of your throat.
“Your brothers and friends are downstairs.” You whimpered as his hands reached around your body, fingertips tracing along the top of your bottoms.
“I don’t care.” He shrugged.
A squeal broke from you as your body was spun around quickly and his warm lips were against yours, his hands slipping down to your thighs while yours went to tug the hairs at the back of his neck.
He kissed you deeper as he picked you up and placed you on his dresser, his teeth nipped at your lower lip before they began to trail down your body.
His lips were inches from your breast when his door swung open, and an all to familiar voice filled the room.
“Quinn my favorite broth-what the hell?” Trevor stopped in his tracks as his eyes caught you perched on Quinn’s dresser with the defenseman between your thighs.
Trevor’s eyes locked on yours and while you were sure your face was full of shock and embarrassment His eyes were dark and clouded with anger.
“What’s she doing here?” He scoffed.
“You mean what’s my girlfriend doing here? I invited her.” Quinn smirked.
“Your girlfriend?”
“Yes and I’d appreciate it if you got out, we’ll be downstairs in a moment.” Quinn smiled all too politely for the emotions that were brewing behind his eyes.
Trevor replied with a scoff before turning around and making his way out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
“He ruined the mood didn’t he?”
“Yep” you breathed looking at Quinn apologetically.
He sighed but moved back and helped you off the dresser before pulling one of his shirts over your head and guiding you downstairs.
Everyone-including Trevor were gathered in the kitchen, Some people had beers and seltzers while others had food and fruits in their hands.
“Y/n!” Cole smiled as he noticed you, pushing Trevor out of the way so he could wrap you in a hug.
“His Cole.” You smiled as you hugged the boy back.
“How’ve you been?” He asked.
“Cole we were just talking the other day.” You giggled.
“So? I haven’t physically seen you in forever.” He scoffed before giving you one more squeeze and returning to his food.
“So when did you two get together?” Trevor smirked yearning him a smack on the arm from Jack.
“When she came to visit in over March but we’ve known we wanted each other since our trip last summer.” Quinn shrugged.
“What trip?” Trevor asked confused and there were a few people that agreed with him.
“When I was gone for that week like mid June, me and Y/n went to the Bahamas.” He explained.
“Wait I thought she went home and you went to Vancouver because something happened with your place.” Trevor asked even more confused now.
“Nope, I was packing to go home when Quinn asked if I wanted to go away and I said sure.” You shrugged.
Trevor didn’t give you a reply, nor did he care to stick around. He grabbed his water bottle and made his way outside towards the backyard.
“Well this should be a fun summer.” Luke coughed causing the entire group to nod in agreement.
-
The following weeks were much of the same, boat rides, late nights by the fire, hook ups in the back of Quinn’s jeep, and Trevor acting like a complete ass.
Most days would be filled with snarky comments at any chance he got, and quite frankly you were getting sick of it, and you weren’t the only one.
Jack as well as Cole had said something to him multiple times about acting like a child and being petty but it never deterred the boy.
Alex had told him that he needed to be an adult and talk things out with you and see things from your side. You had left liked he asked and moved on with your life but he was still stuck on the fact that you’d gone and got with one of his good friends.
“Maybe i should just say something.” You suggested to Quinn as you could feel Trevor’s eyes on you through the sliding doors of the kitchen.
“I’m not going to tell you no because a conversation between you two is needed, however it shouldn’t be you that initiates it. It should be him.” Quinn spoke, he was also tired of how Trevor was acting but he knew that there was unresolved issues between you two.
You thought about his words for a moment and you almost agreed until you watched Jack get up and walk into the house, leaving Trevor out by the fire alone.
“Fuck it, I’m sick of him so I’ll just be the bigger person.” You sighed, sitting down the drink in your hand and taking a deep breath.
“Good luck baby, yell for me if you need me.” Quinn encouraged with a small kiss to your head.
“Thanks.” You breathed and began your way outside.
The second his eyes met your form Trevor was standing from his seat, however the sternness of your voice stopped him from moving any further.
“Sit down, we need to talk.”
“Why would I want to talk to you?” He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Because you won’t stop being a dick and I’m tired of it. So we’re going to have a conversation as adults to figure why you’re so pissed that I’m here.” You explained.
“I’m not pissed that you’re here, I’m pissed that you’re here with him. Just a year ago you were telling Jack how you were in love with me and now you’re dating his brother?.” He spat.
“What’s it your business if Im dating him or not?.” You asked.
“Because, You said you loved me and then went off and got with him!.” He yelled.
You let his words sink in for a minute, what was he trying to say? Did he love you?
“What are you trying to say Trevor?” You asked softly.
“Nothing, just forget about it.” He shook his head.
“No don’t say it’s nothing and go quiet now, the last three weeks you’ve had a lot to say. So speak up and tell me what the hell is going on with you.” You demanded.
“I-I’m not sure okay! Seeing you with him makes my chest hurt, I get so angry when he touches you, or kisses you, hearing him call you nicknames makes my skin crawl. Seeing you be with someone like him makes me realize how badly i screwed up.” He cried.
“So I guess that’s why I’ve been so rude, I was still upset about last summer and I hoped that we could talk things out but then you showed up here, with him and I decided to let my emotions take control.” He continued, his eyes locked on yours.
“So what, you blew up on me for having feelings for you, ignored the texts I sent you for the first two days after, and then when I show up here with Quinn you all of a sudden have feelings for me or something?!” You asked, anger quickly filling your body.
“I don’t know if I have feelings for you but I’ve never felt this way after seeing you with a guy before.” He explained.
“Well now you know how it feels, now you know how shitty I felt when you invited me here just to spent half the nights with random blondes. Now you know how my heart felt when you would be all over me just to take home someone else at the end of the night.” You started.
“It fucking sucks wanting someone that will never want you Trevor, it suck’s when everyone around you gives you pity filled looks when that person is flirting with others in front of you. And now that I finally have someone that doesn’t and would never make me feel the way you have, you all of a sudden want me? Yeah no thanks.” You scoff with a shake of your head.
“Where did your feelings for me go though? They just don’t disappear over night.”
“No trevor they don’t, and it took me a long time to figure out what exactly the feelings I had for you were. I spent nights crying remembering how good things were before you went pro, how you’d make me laugh and always be there for me. But I also sobbed while remembering all the hurtful things you did that I let slide.” You shrugged, eyes filling with tears at the memory.
“What horrible things? Huh? I was always a good friend.” He scoffed.
“Like making me leave my own birthday party in freshmen year because you needed a ride back from some girls, leaving me drunk and alone on multiple occasions just so you could get lucky, leaving me at some restaurant last year because your hookup was horny and then making me cover the bill knowing I just barely had the money, and let’s not forget you making my entire graduation dinner about you.” You shot, eyes locked on his as you recounted just some of the events that he’d made you feel horrible.
“Okay..so maybe I wasn’t the greatest friend.” He shrugged.
“That’s for sure.” You scoffed, moving to take a seat in one of the chairs that circled the fire pit.
There were a few beats of silence between you two before Trevor finally took a seat beside you and spoke up.
“You really don’t feel anything for me anymore?.” He asked softly.
“I think a part of me will always love you but not in the way I love Quinn. I still see you as one of my best friends despite everything, at a point in time you knew every little thing about me and we have a lot of happy memories together but I’m not in love with you anymore.” You replied just as soft.
He smiled at you sadly, “There’s nothing I can do?”
“No Z I’m sorry, you had your chance and instead of being rational you made me leave and treated me differently. I’m sorry you’re just now realizing how you felt for me but I have someone that loves and cherishes me and I really hope you find that someone one day too.” You smiled.
He nodded as he sucked in a shaky breath before standing, “Hug?” He questioned.
You nodded before standing and wrapping your arms around his middle, his hands wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You couldn’t lie you’d missed Trevor’s hugs, they were always nice but feeling his arms around you didn’t cause the same butterflies they used to and the thought of that made you smile.
He pulled away first his hands patting your shoulders awkwardly before he spoke up once again, “I think I need to go apologize to Quinn.”
You nodded in agreement and told him he was probably in the living room but that you’d be staying outside, you needed a moment to think everything over.
A couple minutes later you heard the doors slide open and a body block your line of sight, looking up you were meant with a smiling Quinn.
“Hi” you breathed.
“Hi honey.” He greeted before motioning you to stand up and taking your place, but pulling you onto his lap seconds later.
“Did he apologize?” You asked once you got comfortable on his lap.
“Yeah, said you made him realize some things.” He replied softly, his large hand running along your arm.
“Yeah.” You breathed leaning further into his touch.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asked politely.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is fine by me baby.” He cooed and pulled your body tighter against his as you both watched the fire and bask in each other.
-
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goldengalore · 1 year
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Intimacy
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An anxious!reader fic.
Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.
Word count: 6.5k
Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)
A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)
***
His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.
There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.
His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.
Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.
It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.
“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.
“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.
“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.
“Oh, just your hands.”
His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”
“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”
A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”
“Mmm, not really.”
She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.
“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”
Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.
“I missed you too, H.”
“This week made me realize something.”
Her heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”
His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.
When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”
“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.
He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.
She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.
“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.
She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.
It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.
“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.
“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”
“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”
A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.
“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.
“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”
“But I made things awkward!”
“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”
She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.
“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”
She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”
They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.
After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.
“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”
He nods. “Okay.”
Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.
“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”
“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”
“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”
“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”
“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”
“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”
She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”
He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”
“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”
Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”
She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?”
“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”
“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.
“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.
He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”
“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.
“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”
“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”
His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.
“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”
“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”
Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”
“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.
She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.
***
When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.
Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.
It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.
He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.
“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
“Hmm… A couple days ago?”
“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”
Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”
“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.
“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”
“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”
She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”
He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.
“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”
She swallows. “Yup.”
He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.
In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.
“Careful,” he says.
She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.
“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.
She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.
He smiles. “There you go.”
“Okay, what now?”
“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”
They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.
After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”
She responds with a tiny nod.
“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”
“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”
“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.
“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”
She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.
“That’s good. Keep doing that.”
Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.
“Are we okay?” he asks.
“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.
He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.
Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.
That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.
“Does this feel good?” he asks.
She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”
Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.
“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”
“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”
“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”
He chuckles. “My pleasure.”
Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”
He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.
He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.
After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.
“Can I dry you off?” he asks.
She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”
“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.
Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.
Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.
“All good?”
She just blinks at him.
“Y/N?”
“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”
“Why’s that a bad thing?”
She doesn’t reply.
“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”
“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”
“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”
“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”
It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.
“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.
***
“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”
Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.
A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.
She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.
“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.
A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.
“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.
She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.
“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.
She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.
He frowns. “What are you doing?”
She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.
“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.
“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.
Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.
“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.
“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”
“I do.”
He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.
She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.
Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.
“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.
She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.
“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.
She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.
“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.
“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”
Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”
She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”
“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”
She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.
Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”
“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”
“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”
His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.
“Okay,” she replies.
***
Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.
Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.
“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.
Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.
“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”
“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”
Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”
Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.
“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.
She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”
“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”
He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”
“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”
She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.
“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”
“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.
A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”
He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”
“Baby…”
He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”
“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.
He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”
“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”
It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.
Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”
“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”
“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”
“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.
“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”
She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”
“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”
She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”
He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.
After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.
That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.
Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.
“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”
She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”
A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”
“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”
“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”
“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”
“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”
“Of course!”
“There’s your answer then.”
She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”
They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.
It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.
“Is that okay?” she asks.
“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”
She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.
He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.
“Harry—”
The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.
“Please,” she whines.
He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”
“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”
She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.
“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”
“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.
He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.
Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.
***
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seijorhi · 2 months
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Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)
Event Masterlist
Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader
Part Two
w.c 1.4k
tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore
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There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.
It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 
The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 
Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.
Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.
Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.
Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.
And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 
He also had his cursed technique. 
Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.
For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–
“Everything okay, Yuuta?”
He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 
You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”
You don’t know the half of it. 
“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”
Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.
“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”
Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 
Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 
When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 
Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  
Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”
“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”
His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.
At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”
His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.
Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 
“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”
“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”
Yuuta stills entirely. 
Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”
It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.
The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 
“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.
“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”
Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”
And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 
Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 
“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”
Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.
But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 
No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.
By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–
The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.
It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 
Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 
Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 
A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 
Perfect, beautiful girl. 
Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.
You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 
Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 
There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 
It’s better this way. You’ll see.
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ecoamerica · 24 days
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
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ssweetleaf · 3 months
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not now.
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summary: william wants a baby, but you’re not so sure— he makes sure to get you pregnant whether you like it or not.
william killick x fem!reader
includes: SMUT 18+, dark!william, non-con, baby trapping/breeding kink, choking, face slapping, unprotected p in v, cream pie
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Your cheek stung and bloomed with heat from the constant slaps William inflicted upon you, quick and sharp, forcing broken whimpers and heaving sobs to erupt from your throat.
“I can’t believe you would embarrass me like that,” his voice was raised, jaw tensing while his hand gripped at your throat, keeping you close and in place. “your own husband.”
You clutched at his wrist, desperate for him to go easy on you.
-
“So, Will, isn’t it time you settled down? Have a few kids running round?” One of your close friends had asked, eager to get an insight onto your married life and why on earth you were still without children.
William smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressed a little kiss to your temple.
“Oh, definitely— we’ll be trying for a baby in no time, isn’t that right darling.”
His arm tightened around you, an act of dominance, a warning.
You frowned, cheeks searing and you stuttered to find your words.
“Well,” you started, “I just don’t think we’re ready for children at the moment, m-maybe in a few years.”
You smiled nervously up at your friend, them having no idea the way his hand slipped from your waist, or the immediate tension that grew between you and your husband.
-
“William,” you sobbed, little tears slipping down your cheeks, ruining the pretty makeup you had spent so much time on earlier. “please let go, you’re hurting me.”
He chuckled dryly, humourless, forcing you back with the hand around your neck, the backs of your knees bumping into the bed frame, causing you to tumble onto the mattress.
William straddled you, roughly tugging at the front of your dress, watching your tits spill out of your bodice, nipples on display and hardening from the cool air.
“Wives are supposed to obey their husbands, correct?” He spoke, running his palms along your breasts, grabbing fistfuls of the soft flesh and kneading crudely.
You whimpered, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, playing with them and watching them grow harder with each passing of his digit.
“Answer me.” He snapped, another sharp slap was directed to your cheek, leaving you breathless and shaky.
“Y-yes!” You squealed, sobbing and squirming in his grasp.
“Well then,” he cooed, all condescending stroking your swelling cheek with his knuckle before lifting your dress, bunching it against your stomach. “You’re going to give me a baby, dear— make me a proper daddy.”
Your eyes widened, glassy with another round of un-shed tears, and you pushed at his chest.
“N-no, not now— not like this, William please,” he hushed you, bringing his strong hands to your panties and tearing them apart, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy on display for him, just begging to take his cock and be filled with the Killick prodigy.
“Now, now, none of that,” he spoke, parting your thighs wide, his strong grip stilling you. “You obey your husband like a good little trophy wife.”
He unbuckled his belt in a hurry, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock free. You watched it throb and pulse, desperate to be enveloped and you cursed yourself at the way your clit responded to it.
“See?” He cooed, running his cock head along the length of your slit, your arousal slicking him up and making it terribly easy for him to glide up and down. “You want it just as bad as I do, sweetheart, don’t try and deny it.”
His tip nudged against your hole, slipping inside with little resistance with how wet you had become, and he sank into you, balls deep, right to the hilt, throbbing hotly inside you and you whined at the immense pressure against your sweet spot.
“Darling, s-slow down,” you tried shakily, gripping onto his biceps, your nails leaving crescents in his freckled skin. His pace had turned ruthless quick, balls slapping against your ass and thighs snug with yours on every inward thrust.
“There you go,” he breathed, ignoring your plea to slow down, to go easy on you, instead he just went faster, even deeper. “You’re a good girl really, aren’t you? Just act like a brat to get fucked— I know your little games, dear.”
The thumping of your heart drowned out his filthy words, your chest heaving, coil tightening in your stomach and you just couldn’t help it.
His eyes screwed shut, moaning into the air and he throbbed inside you, you could tell he was close, thrusts already growing sloppy.
“Pull out,” you whined, “not inside, please don’t cum inside.”
He ignored you, batting your hands away when you tried to push at his chest and he lifted your legs up so they rested over his shoulders.
You cried out at the sudden switch of position, his cock so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your throat.
“That’s it, legs up— gotta make sure it takes.”
You sobbed and cried, pussy fluttering around his cock when he thrusted once, twice, three times more before spilling his load inside of you, filling your womb with his seed and painting your walls all thick and white.
“Everyone’s going to know now, darling,” he breathed, “they’ll know just how good I fuck you once you’re all pregnant, pretty.”
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beenbaanbuun · 1 month
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enemies w/ wooyoung
“i can’t believe i have to share a room with you,” wooyoung spits as he dumps his bag on the floor at the side of his bed. he wastes no time in throwing himself down onto the matress, keeping a stern aye on you as you make your way inside, “out of all the people on this trip, its you.”
you scoff as you follow him, slamming the door in your wake. trust you to draw the same colour marble as him. jung fucking wooyoung. number 1 on your hit list ever since the very first time he pulled your hair in junior school. hatred may have been a strong word, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough for the way you feel about him.
and now you have to spend the next week of your life in a combined space with him. perhaps you’ve done something wrong that the universe is punishing you for. maybe it’s a curse, or some evil spirit messing with you. you’re not entirely sure, but either way you’re certain something is out for your blood.
“the couch is available if you want it,” you snarl, barely able to keep a modicum of civility when it comes to wooyoung. there’s just something about him that makes you so inexplicably mad, “you know, if you have that much of a problem with me.”
“i’m fine here, actually,” he puts his hands behind his head in a display of arrogance. it’s difficult not to go over there and slap it out of him as you move to sit on your own bed, “but you can go and sleep there if you want; you won’t find me stopping you.”
you scoff, “what exactly is your problem with me?”
it’s hypocritical of you to ask that, you know. if anyone has the problem, its you. you’re the one who’s always fought against him; eye rolls and back handed comments the only things you give him whenever he’s around you. and you’re the one who’s always arguing with him over the tiniest of things, even if you know deep down that he’s actually right. some days you can’t even find a reason behind your incessant need to hate him, but that never stops you.
he’s just so annoying.
“you’re a stuck up little princess,” wooyoung supplies with that cocky grin still spread across his face. god, what you wouldn’t do to wipe that away and put him in his place; it’s almost a desperate need that you have to knock him down a few pegs.
“anything else, youngie,” you throw the nickname at him like it’s an insult. he catches it effortlessly, chuckling at your attempt to throw him off.
“yes,” he pushes himself from the mattress, sitting himself up straight so he can look at you; look down at where you lay on the bed beside him. so cute, with your arms crossed over your chest in a petulant attempt to act tough in front of him. it doesn’t work, your little act. not with the way your arms push your tits together, making your cleavage look so fuckable. wooyoung’s dick twitches in his sweatpants, “most of my problems are about you, actually.”
cliche, you think as you roll your eyes; of course he thinks you’re the cause of all his problems. just because he doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean he has to blame everything on you.
still, you’re curious.
when he starts talking again, you’re all ears.
“like how you think you’re so tough when you’re being a condescending little brat, when actually it just makes me want to pull you over my lap and make you scream,” the words take a second to sink in, but when they do, your jaw drops. he smirks, “or when you bite your lips when you’re mad; it just makes me think about how pretty they’d look wrapped around my cock.”
you can’t help the way your eyes flicker to the crotch of his sweats. he’s hard, or halfway there at least. fucking huge too, by the looks of it. you dart out your tongue to lap at your dry lips. holy fuck, what’s happening to you.
“and do you know that i see these pretty little things in my dreams?” a single finger brushes gently over your nipple, hard and visible through the thin material of your t-shirt. you suck in a sharp breath, barely catching a moan before it slips out, “wake up covered in my own cum every single time. dream you is just such a good little slut for me.”
the hand that sits gently on your tit begins to move, climbing gently up your chest until it lands on your neck. he squeezes down lightly, your head spinning under the barely there pressure.
“it’s a shame real life you takes a little more taming, hm?” wooyoung drawls as he bends down to your level. warmth spreads across your face as your lifelong enemy blows a stream of cold air over your face, chuckling to himself when you shiver.
how the fuck had you let this happen? one second you’re sure you had the high ground, and the next you have a hand around your throat and wetness leaking from your pussy. part of you wants to fight back. spit in his face and push him away. set a boundary and let him know that this, whatever the fuck this is, will never happen.
what scares you is that an even bigger part of you is begging you to give in.
and it’s a really shame that you’ve never been very good at saying no to yourself. it makes it borderline impossible for you to listen to that ever-shrinking part of your brain that’s telling you to run.
“wooyoung,” you whisper, although youre not even sure of your next words yourself. you haven’t decided whether this is going to happen or not. whether you’re going to let him tame you like he so clearly wants to. you open your mouth, hoping to all that is holy that you make a good choice.
“what do you want, baby?”
“fuck me,” you say.
oh…
“such a good girl.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya pt. lll
Part l here Part ll here
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Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: After promising Sukuna to do everything he wants in exchange for him sparing your friends, you find yourself in a bitter fight with Jogo. While you feel like dying, Sukuna enjoys teasing the hell out of you...
Warnings: this is basically Sukuna flirting with (y/n) through the newest episode so it has no real plot, not proofread bc I'm having a nasty headache, forgive me
Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @wifenanami @ploylulla
You know how reckless it was, making a deal with the devil himself. But you just had to do it. For your friends, for Megumi, for Yuji. Maybe he will be able to regain the control over his own body before Sukuna is even able to harm another soul, maybe everything will turn out alright.
God, how much you beg for your mantra to be true.
“First things first. You.”
His finger darts towards the volcano curse whose forehead is soaking wet in sweat.
“If you land a hit on her or me once, I will fight on your side.”
You can’t believe your ears, whole body screaming at you to run away. Even though Gojo-sensei made it look so easy, you are very aware of the fact that this cursed spirit standing in front of your very own eyes is not to be messed with. How on earth are you supposed to keep up with him on your own, how are you supposed to survive all of this?
“A human?”, he cursed spirit questions, eyes darting towards you in disbelief.
“I hate waiting. Make your decision or die”, Sukuna replies dryly, rolling his eyes while all you can do is stare at him in pure horror.
He can’t be serious about that, right?
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”, you hiss at him, his eyes darting towards you in nothing but amusement.
“Nothing easier than that”, the cursed spirit replies.
You aren’t even able to comprehend that the cursed spirit lifted its arm when you get yanked into the air, followed by a wave of scorching fire.
Fuck fuck fuck. You know you are good, you know you are well-trained. But this? The whole ground underneath catches fire, gets eaten up by countless flames.
What the hell are you supposed to do?
“If you want to survive, you will have to stand close to me”, Sukuna purrs, his arms wrapped tightly around your ribcage from behind while jerking through the air with you.
How disgusting. The thought of feeling your boyfriend’s tight muscles against your back but knowing fully well that the man pressing his frame against yours is nothing but a psychopath makes your guts turn. Your hands fight desperately for your escape, to get out of his iron grip around your body. But instead of letting go, he chuckles into your ear, his body rubbing against yours.
“Pathetic. You might have a strong will, but your body is still as weak as that of any other human.”
“Why not letting me go then? Why did you safe me when I am a weakling in your eyes?”, you scream on top of your lungs.
“Because you’re fun to mess with.”
You stare at him through wet lashes, mind going completely blank. He can’t be serious about his senseless words, why on earth is he doing all of this? Is it because he knows that Yuji loves you? Is it because you are a decent hostage?
“Oh, there he comes again. Duck your head.”
Your usual cool composure is gone in the wind when another ball of fire is yanked towards you, reflecting in your wide-open eyes. A toe-curling scream escapes your lips, hands instinctively holding onto Sukuna for dear life-
Hot tears start to sting in your eyes. The bitter truth is that you don’t want to die. Not through the hands of a cursed spirit, not because of Sukuna, not even through your own force. You want a happy and long life, you want to grow old with Yuji and your brother by your side.
But the way this cursed spirits yanks towards you, eye narrowed when your gazes meet tells you more than urgently that your life is in serious danger.
You close your eyes, breathe in and out. Is there anything you can do to escape this situation? No, your faith lies in the cruel hands of Sukuna – the hands of the king of curses, the hands that are responsible of countless deaths. When he’s done playing with you…
You’ll be next.
“Balling your eyes out? How unusual, (y/n). Do you need a shoulder to cry on?”
This is the time. You have to choose between staying alive for a little longer or risking it all and telling yourself fall into the scorching hell underneath. Your eyes scan the area around you, mind pondering about a way to escape him. If you’re fast enough, you might be able to make it…
“Don’t get stupid ideas. Remember our deal, (y/n). If you break it, I’ll kill everyone you love without even blinking.”
The oh so sweet tone in his voice is replaced by so much taciturnity than your blood freezes in your veins. Your orbs stare at him boldly with your head up high. No, you have to keep on fighting. You have to stand up to him. For your friends, for your brother.
For Yuji.
“I won’t break it”, you assure him, earning a maniac grin instantly.
Oh, what a beautiful sight you are with tears streaming down your face and your eyes of determination.
“So, what now? You said you wanted me to let you go, right? Nothing easier than that.”
His grip around your body loosens. Before you are able to get a hold of him, your body flies towards the ground, cutting through the hot air.
“Sukuna!” you cry out desperately, arms flying around without an aim.
What are you supposed to do? Is there a way your technique might help you? If Megumi’s shikigami were here to catch you…
But it isn’t. And you’ll crash into the ground with full force within the next seconds if you don’t come up with a plan.
“I want you to beg for it, (y/n).”
You let out your breath, eyes piercing through the man flying above you. That fucking asshole. Nothing is further from you than to worship a creature like Sukuna.
“Go to hell!” you shout over the noise of the rapid air around both of you.
Do you really have a choice, though? If you want to live, if you want to survive Shibuya, you have no other choice than to do what that man wants.
“Fuck”, you curse under your breath, closing your eyes.
You have to do this.
“Please safe me, Sukuna”, you press out.
“Not enough.”
The heat of the ground becomes almost unbearable, with every breath your lungs feel like bursting from the hot air. Time runs out.
“I beg you with all that I have, please safe me Sukuna!”
His hands grab your body tightly before he catapults both of you into the air again.
“See? Wasn’t hard, was it sweetheart?”
Your fast and shaky breaths ring in your ears. That was close, way too close for your liking. What is all of this about?
He comes to a stand on a nearby building, still holding onto you while his eyes roam around the area in amusement. You really are a handful, the mix of emotions reflecting in your eyes making it so enjoyable for him to toy with you. And that oh so sweet scent of yours. You feel just like he imagined it, your heartbeat hammering against his very own chest.
“Out of breath, sweetheart?”
That fucker. He seems so unbothered by all of this, the whole city underneath your feet going up in flames. What about the people? Please, hopefully Maki was able to escort all of them out.
“Shut up and get moving, aren’t you able to see that he attacked us again?” you bark at him.
The dark night sky is discoloured in crimson, deafening noise keeps moving towards you. Without saying another word, Sukuna grabs you firmly by your waist and pushes your body up in the air along with himself.
“Let’s play a little.”
Your eyes aren’t even able to comprehend the movement around you. Fire blasts around your frame, just inches away from burning your skin. Without saying a single word Sukuna lifts you off the ground and holds onto your back and knees. You want to scream at him to let you go, you want nothing more than to free yourself out of his grasp.
But you are powerless. This fight that lays itself out in front of your very own eyes would have killed you in the matter of seconds if it wasn’t for Sukuna. These targeted attacks, the sheer force of his cursed power. All you can do is stare at the scenery with your glossy eyes wide open and your hands holding onto Yuji’s uniform for dear life.
The untouched part of Shibuya comes nearer and nearer. You squint your eyes, observing what looks like people on the ground. Wait…Your heart sinks immediately, the feeling of throwing up becomes almost unbearable. That there is Panda. Panda from Jujutsu High, panda your comrade.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Your hysteric voice doesn’t seem to interest him the slightest, bodies still aiming for the humans to your feet. No, you can’t let that happen, you can’t allow him to hurt your friends. Even though he swore he won’t hurt them if you do what he wishes…Sukuna is no one to trust.
“Panda, hurry up and run!” you scream on top of your lungs.
His soul almost leaves his body when realizing that it is Sukuna who holds you in his arms, thick fear clouding your sight. How did you end up here? He wants to turn around, to free you out of his grasp. But instead his feet are about to start moving, on their way to get him out of this mess-
“You won’t”
Everyone around you stops in their tracks, completely crushed by the sheer presence of Sukuna. Gently he lets go of you, letting you stand on your own wobbly legs.
“I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from here to move until I say ‘now’. And of course, I will kill anyone who violates that rule.”
“Sukuna…”, you mumble, eyes wide open by the sheer sensation of a fucking fireball shooting your way.
He chuckles to himself.
“Not yet.”
“Sukuna!” you bark at him, the sky completely on fire by now.
“Still not yet.”
“Sukuna, you promised!”
You fist the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you while staring at him intensely. If he won’t let them go immediately, all of them will burn to death. When his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but amusement, lifting his arms painfully slow.
“Now”, he announces along with clapping his hands.
But he himself has no intention to leave this place, let alone letting you flee along with your friends. No, instead he holds onto your body tightly when a wave of fire, magma, rumble and death washes over you. Fuck, this will definitely burn you to the ground. Out of instinct you hide your face against his chest, squinting your eyes shut.
Is this how you die? Because you’ve got hit by a random fireball at Shibuya? What would Megumi say if he knew about all of this, would he be proud?
Your heart skips a beat. Definitely not. You acted like a coward, pressing yourself against the king of curses in order not do die. What about Yuji? What about your plan to free him?
“Now you’re in the mood to cuddle, huh?”
He moves fast. In the blink of an eye your body gets pressed against the ruin of a nearby building, his hands wrapped around your nape and wrist while all you can do is stare at the man in front of you in silence.
“What do you want from me?”, you breathe out.
“Oh, sweet little (y/n). You are my favourite toy since we’ve first met. Let’s just have a good time together, shall we?”, he hums in satisfaction.
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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months
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The One I Want: Part 7
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos
Words: 3262
The One I Want Masterlist
Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that. 
“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”
Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.
Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late. 
You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it. 
You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.
But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him. 
You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection. 
“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.
“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”
The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.
Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling. 
Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears. 
Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand. 
His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom. 
You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”
You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way. 
You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop. 
But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance. 
What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.
In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well. 
Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off. 
It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you. 
Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to. 
Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.
These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well. 
That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance. 
When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety. 
“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”
She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”
“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.” 
Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack. 
Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”
“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”
You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.
“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.
“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”
If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would. 
Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing. 
Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.
Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.
You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy. 
When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now. 
After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state. 
You don’t care how you look, though. 
You care about pushing yourself forward. 
“Jake?” 
His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go. 
He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”
His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”
“I trust you,” you repeat. 
One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again. 
Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.” 
Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him. 
“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.
“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath. 
Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more. 
“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”
Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.
When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid. 
And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer. 
Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze. 
Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours. 
His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his. 
Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.
Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades. 
“Your turn,” you whisper.
---
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