Tumgik
#I felt okay enough to go down the stairs and back up them!
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Come Out and Play 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your mom welcomes an old friend back into her life that brings chaos with him.
Characters: Thor, Loki
Note: Two silverfoxes for the price of one
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖
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You hide away in the room that was once your own. You’re dressed and ready to go but waiting for the chance to flit out. You have a fib ready to go. You’ll tell your mom the landlord called and you had to leave quickly. 
The opportunity hasn’t come yet as the house is lively with noise. You didn’t wake up early enough to get ahead of your mother and her friend. You know he stayed the night; you can see his car through the window. A steel grey SUV with a boxy build. 
As you build your courage, bag in hand, with a plan to dart down and grab your shoes and coat, there’s a knock at the door. Dang. You drop your bag as you mother calls through to you. 
“Honey boo,” she trills, “are you hungry?” 
You huff and cross the room. You open the door only a few inches to see her. You stare back at her blankly. 
“Thor cooked some breakfast for us? Isn’t that lovely?” She preens.  
You weigh your options. There’s not really more than one. If you say no and rush out now, that would be rude. And a free meal isn’t something you should pass up. Not with your rent due. 
You nod and come out into the hallway, “okay, thanks.” 
“Oh, don’t thank me. I know you’ll be polite and let Thor know you appreciate it,” she steps back and waits for you to go ahead of her. “I’m so lucky to have such a good daughter.” 
“Mom,” you grumble. 
“Sorry, I’m just so... happy. I miss you,” she tugs your hair playfully from behind. You feel a little icky as you suspect the true reason for her good mood. Not that she isn’t always chipper. 
“Miss you too, mom,” you throw over your shoulder as you come down the stairs. 
You slow as you near the kitchen, hearing the subtle clinking of dishes. Your mom points you into the dining room and you gratefully accept the detour. 
“I’ll check in on him. I know he was wrestling the coffee machine.” 
You sit at the table as she tromps off into the kitchen. You hear Thor’s timbre and her singsong replies. You can’t make out the words, not until the last. 
“Go, sit,” Thor insists. “I’ve got it all figured out, Seli.” 
Your mother giggles before she appears again. She sits across from you. She’s always been bubbly but she seems bouncier. You’re happy for her. She deserves someone. It’s been so long since your father passed. You always felt a bit guilty for how much she put into raising you. 
“Ah, ladies,” Thor pops in just behind her, “coffee for both? I can always put on tea.” 
You nod and your mom turns, “yes, both of us. Thank you.” 
“Of course,” he grins and your eyes meet for a startling second. 
He stalks back to the kitchen. You wonder if a man his size ever does anything quietly. You tap your fingers on the table as you wait. 
“Hon,” your mom reaches across, “thanks.” 
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you insist as you still your hands. 
“I know it’s a lot.” 
“He’s nice,” you say. 
She smiles even bigger, “he is, isn’t he?” 
You nod again. You can’t say you really know him. You just love seeing her so excited. 
“Ah coffee,” Thor declares as he sweeps in, “did we require sugar, dairy?” 
“Black,” you confirm, “thank you.” 
“Just some almond milk for me, please,” your mother replies. 
“As you wish,” he bows his head and backs out. 
It’s awkward. Almost as if you’re at a restaurant. It’s a bit too much but you suppose he feels just as weird staying in someone else’s house. Especially with their daughter crashing on the fun. 
He dips out once more and you squirm in your seat. You just need to get through this and you can go home. It might not be very warm there but it’s your own. 
Thor returns with two plates in hand and the cart of almond milk under his elbow. He sets a plate by your mom, and the milk, then reaches across to put the other before you. You chew your lip sheepishly. 
“Oh, thank you, this is so amazing,” your mother squeals, “and it smells delicious.” 
“Thank you,” you echo softly. 
“Full Norwegian. Smoked salmon, scrambled eggs with my secret ingredient, Jarlsberg cheese, and some oat bread toasted.” He announces proudly.  
“Wow, oh my god,” your mom touches her cheeks. “I never knew you could cook.” 
“Well, I had a few kids, had to learn,” he chuckles boisterously. “Now, please, dig in. I’ll just go get my plate.” 
“We can wait--” 
“No, no, it’s best to have it hot,” he insists, “please.” 
You pick up your fork only as your mother does the same. You use the fork and knife to pick apart the salmon. It really is tasty. You take small bites as your stomach swirls uneasily. 
Thor sits by your mother and wiggles as settles into the seat, “so, literature? What year?” He asks. 
“Oh, um...” you peek at your mom, “I finished last year.” 
“Ah, sorry. I think I misheard. That’s great. All set then. And are we going for another degree or out there is the wonderful world of employment?” 
“Erm, well, I work right now at a temp agency. Desk jobs, mostly.” 
“Oh, very interesting. You probably meet all sorts. See different places,” he remarks. 
“When there’s work,” you shrug. 
“Of course. That’s the catch then,” he says. 
“Mhmm,” you hum. 
“She’ll get there. Remember when we were in school and I worked at that pop up shop? Oof. They had me selling overpriced anti-aging cream. I was nineteen. Imagine.” She chirps. 
“Oh yes, I was lucky enough to work for my father’s firm. Well, luck being a relative term. He is a hard ass but I suppose I turned out alright. Now my brother for the matter,” he chortles and shakes his head. “So, just the one then, Seli?” 
“Just my precious bean,” your mom grins and you cringe. She can be so embarrassing. 
“Ah, I always wondered what it would be like to be an only child. You must be spoiled, especially with her as your mother. She’s always been a horrible enabler,” he nudges her and she guffaws. 
“Me? I would day you are a bad influence,” she pushes back on him. 
You muster a smile. Just to be nice. Then you focus on your plate and the food. The quicker you finish, the sooner you can be gone. Alone. 
💜
“I hope I haven’t run you out,” Thor catches you off-guard as you sit to pull on your boots. You pop your head up and wince. You were going to say bye to your mom before you fled but you just can’t seem to summon your usual invisibility. 
“Um, no, I gotta get back. See if they can fix the radiator.” 
“Radiator? Hm, I used to have a fussy one back in college. Actually, my first home was built at the turn of the century, not this one, and it had some rattly ones as well,” he rambles, much like your mother. You see why they get along. “I could have a look. It’s rather cold out, you wouldn’t mind the ride, eh?” 
“Oh, well, that’s fine. My landlord can fix it,” you tie your boots as you mutter at the carpet. 
“That is so sweet,” your mom strides in and you sit up in surprise. It’s almost as if she was waiting to sneak up on you. “Oh, Thor, would you mind? I really hate her on the bus. Did you hear about last week with that woman and her purse?” 
“Mom,” you drone. 
“I don’t mind at all. I’ve got some running around to do. Can’t be too far out of the way. Besides, I can see you’re keen to have me out of your hair already, Seli,” he chortles. 
“No, no, oh it’s been so nice to have you. Both of you! Have you found a place yet?” She asks. 
“Still nothing,” he answers with a tut. “Mother’s a lot like you though. She likes having me around, better when the kids chance to visit.” 
“Oh, I can’t wait to meet them. Won’t that be nice, honey? I think his daughter’s about your age,” she says around him. 
“She’s a year or two back. Still in school,” he intones, “close enough then, eh?” 
“It’s really not...” you begin but see your mom’s smile falter. “Oh, well, thanks, sure. It’s really nice to offer.” 
You stand and both of them smile. “I’ll just get my coat and that,” Thor says. 
He moves around you in the entry way and your mom flutters closer, “oh, honey bun, I’m going to miss you!” She hugs you and rocks you. You’ve never lived in a different city but she acts like she never sees you. “Don’t get in trouble, alright?” 
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Thor jibes as he pulls on his thick flannel coat. 
“Love you, mom,” you murmur quietly. 
“Love you!” She lets you go and pats your head. “You call. Let me know about the heat. Don’t you dare stay if it’s freezing. You’ll catch cold.” 
“Nothing I can’t fix, I’m sure,” Thor insist, “come, I’ve still got a whole list I should’ve done yesterday.” 
You give a wistful look to your mom and a small ‘bye’ before you reluctantly follow after the large man. He holds the door and you step out into the frigid air. You approach the steps warily. He’s still only a stranger to you. 
He frightens you as he puts his hand on your back and dips around you. He reaches the SUV first and opens the passenger door. You look over your shoulder as your mom waves giddily. 
“Drive safe!” She calls out. 
You turn and grab onto the door. You haul yourself up with your bag, an extra push from Thor along your lower back. You quickly swing into the seat and hug your knapsack. He closes the door without comment. 
You buckle your seat belt as he gets in the other side. You stare ahead as your mom gives one last wave and goes inside. You look down at your lap and pick at the zipper of your bag. The engine rumbles to life and you jolt as he reverses out of the driveway. 
He asks for your address as he idles in the middle of the street. You give it and he keys it into the GPS built into the dash. 
As he drives, you watch the houses pass outside the window. The cold makes the silence crisper. The heater blows warmth over you but you feel a shiver creeping nonetheless. 
“Mm, don’t take much after Selina. Quiet...” he muses. 
You nod. It’s the truth you can’t dispute that. 
“That’s not so bad though,” he says. “It means you put more thought into what you say. My brother can be the same way. Yet, he’ll often say too much.” 
You sniff and wiggle your foot impatiently. You’re burnt out from all the social interaction. You can handle your mom, but with his unannounced visit, you’re feeling yourself wear thin. 
He doesn’t say anything else, almost as if he can sense your reticence. You shrink down next to him. Your eyes threaten to close. You feel the how little sleep you truly got. Maybe you would’ve been better off sleeping in the cold. 
Finally, you get to your building. It would be a solace if he didn’t get out with you. You point him ahead to the building as you fish out your keys. 
You show him inside. You’re not used to the company. You’re always alone. Even your mom’s only been there a few times. You don’t like having her over because she just complains about it being too small. You tell her you don’t want to crowd her but she’s just wants to make sure you’re okay. 
“Brisk,” he says as he follows you down the hall. 
“If you can’t fix it, I’ll be okay,” you say. 
“Of course, but if I can, I’d hate to not look,” he assures. 
You unlock your door and let him in. He enters and stops to pull untie his boots. You do the same before you lead him further in. It feels like a violation to have him in your space. You’ve always been very protective of your bubble. 
He finds the radiator without direction. He grunts as he gets to his knees bracing his lower back, “never get old, mouse, or at least stretch,” he chuckles. “It isn’t fun.” 
He takes out his phone and shines it between the slats and bends further to see. He reaches underneath as you shiver behind him. He feels along and lets out an aha! 
“I think we only need to bleed the radiator,” he twists and something creaks loudly. “Just so.” 
He sits up and looks at you, “may be some trapped air. Easy repair but if you don’t know the little tricks, an easy miss,” he explains, “come, let me show you.” 
He beckons you over and flashes the light toward the small red knob, “this is the bleed. You can twist to release then close it back up.” 
“Okay,” you lean in and squint to see it. 
You lift your head, nearly brushing him with your nose and back up. 
“I’ll close it and give it a bit. Do you have the thermostat here? Or is it central control?” He asks. 
“Um just... on the radiator.” 
“Ah,” he cranks the knob tight then moves to the end of the metal heater. He moves the gauge and the radiator rattles. He puts his hands up. “Think I’ve done it.” 
“Thanks,” you wring your hands in front of you. “That’s... thanks.” 
“Oh, it’s nothing.” He gets up with another grinding grunt and some popping in his knees. “Anything else before I go? Maybe a leaky faucet?” 
“No, no, that’s it,” you say but wince. Your mom would be disappointed in your lack of hospitality. Besides, he did help and he’s her friend. You can’t just kick him out. “Do you like tea?” 
“I love tea,” he smiles, “but let me not presume on you.” 
“It is cold in here. I was gonna make it anyway.” 
“Well, then, if it isn’t any trouble, how could I deny the little mouse?” 
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swampndn · 4 months
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Y'all, I have a HIGH pain tolerance, and this back pain just may take me out.
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sweetrainbowcandy · 1 month
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A Logan x chubby!reader blurb <3 let me know if you guys want a part two <3
TW: Suggestive
Edit: part two here
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Logan never thought he’d get caught up with a pretty little thing like you.
You’re absolutely precious. Wade’s neighbor directly across from their now shared apartment. You’re shorter than him with the cutest chubby body, your legs and tummy jiggling subtly when you walk. It was enough to kill him, and that’s saying a lot for a man who can’t die.
You’d shared a couple brief greetings in the hallway, a polite smile from you and a nod from him. There was an afternoon him and Wade were walking back from helping the X-men on a mission where the two of them caught you struggling to pad down the stairs, looking nervously around your over-stuffed laundry basket with a focused, worried expression.
Logan didn’t know what came over him— sure, he was told beneath his spiky exterior he had a soft core, but he usually brushed off that comment as nothing more than people trying to make him feel better. Wade was halfway through throwing a teasing comment at you before Logan was already there, gently taking the laundry basket from your grasp and tucking it under his big arm.
Wade let out an over exaggerated gasp, and you immediately tried to reassure Logan you could do it yourself, but he was already headed down the stairs to the laundry room. Thats where you two formally introduced yourself to each other— and also Wade, who had followed the both of you downstairs since his FOMO was chronic.
You were precious, so fucking sweet and kind.
It was driving Logan crazy.
That’s why when Wade approached him asking if he could go over and fix your sink for you— you had asked Wade initially since you knew him better, but Wade told you to wait a moment while he talked to ‘the old ball and chain’— Logan knew that it was going to be a challenge.
Now, Logan wasn’t a plumber or anything, but in the two-hundred something years he’s been alive, you get around when you have to learn to provide for yourself. He took his toolbox he bought a couple weeks ago after Wade lost to the computers in Mario kart and got so pissed he broke the coffee table in the living room, so Logan bought and assembled a new one.
Knocking on your door, Logan found himself actually wondering if he looked okay, if his hair was too much of a mess and if his cowlicks made him look stupid. Little did he know you thought they were absolutely adorable.
You opened the door, blinking before smiling, opening it further and gesturing for him to come in, “Logan, hey!” You greeted softly, and he felt his heart rate speed up at the sight of the slight blush on your chubby cheeks, nodding as he stepped inside, “Sorry, I was expecting Wade,” you said with a small giggle.
Logan shook his head with a grunt, “Fucker can’t fix anything to save his life. Better at breaking shit,” he says, walking over into your sink and setting down the toolbox on the counter. He crouches to open up the cupboards beneath it, and he hears the subtle gulp from you behind him as you observed the muscles of his back flexing under his tight white tank.
“Well, I seriously can’t thank you enough,” you say softly, stammering a bit as you fidgeted with your slightly pudgy hands in front of you. Logan just nods, pushing down the voices in his head that screamed about how fucking cute you were, how he just wanted to grab you by your adorable chubby stomach and pound—
He blinked, grunting before turning back to the pipes, “‘S not a problem,” he says, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. He locates the problem, grabbing the desired tool and twisting a couple parts back into place.
You stood awkwardly behind him, your sweet scent enveloping him, and it was making it hard to focus. You smelt like vanilla, probably some sort of body butter or lotion based on how your skin glistened in the dim light of your apartment.
Focus, dammit.
“…Are you thirsty at all?” Your soft voice asks, and Logan pauses, pulling back out from under the sink to look up at you.
“Water’d be nice,” he nods, watching with a clenched jaw as you smile and pad over to your fridge, cursing softly under his breath at the sight of how your fat, jiggly ass bounced beneath the skirt of your sundress. You walk back over and hand it to him, and he quietly thanks you.
It’s a few more minutes of you standing there and watching him work before he pulls back, putting his tools away and checking the sink, watching as the water flowed out smoothly and patting the edge, “Should be good,” he says, and you grin ear to ear.
“Oh, Logan, thank you!” You say, walking over to where your purse sat on the counter and rifling through it before pulling out your pocketbook, “Let me at least pay you,”
Logan’s eyes briefly widen before he shakes his head, “No, no, you don’t gotta do that, bub,” he reassures, “I don’t do this lookin’ for payment.”
You stop pulling the bills out, “Are you sure?” You ask softly, and he nods. You felt bad not doing anything for him, “Are you sure there’s no way I can pay you back?” You ask, and Logan pauses, visibly tensing up. You tilt your head, unaware of the suggestive undertone of your words.
Yes, Logan thought, you can help me out by wrapping those soft lips around my cock. Logan prayed you couldn’t see the hunger that flashed behind his eyes. He just cleared his throat and shook his head, exchanging a couple more words with you before you thanked him and he went back to his apartment across from yours.
You shut the door and smiled, biting your bottom lip and holding back a giggle.
Maybe you’d mess with your sink on purpose again.
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jaysng · 3 months
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when your daughter walks in on you | pjs
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pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader
genre: married au, comedy (tried my best), fluff
warnings: suggestive, jay sucking boobs like a madman
your husband has had an exhausting week and needed some way to relieve the stress he had related to his workplace. 
and that’s why, you were here know trapped in his hold in the kitchen, “missed you s’much baby” he said as he open mouthed-ly(?) tracing your neck leaving kissed and licks here and there til he reached your earlobe. 
as soon as you opened the door, he looked at you, yes with those goddamn eyes. next thing you know, you’re pulling him from his tie. “fuck can we do this? like in here—“ he asks as he lifts you up easily in one go and puts you on the counter“i have put her to sleep, use me all you want jay.” 
the approval was enough for jay to let his guard down as he dives in again attaching your lips with his, you were wearing a cute loose set of night wear with easy access, in one swift move he pulled your top down by the shoulders as he took a step back appreciating your mounds. 
giving each attention one by one, jay knew how needy you grew when he gave most of his attention to your chest he took your left nipple between his fingers and pinched it, fondling with the other one all while keeping eye contact.
“l-lick them jongseong, feels s’good when you do that” you said as you kept your hand on his, the one massaging your breast as he bend and took one of it in his mouth.
licking, sucking, making out messily with saliva everywhere as you arched your back with your hand on his hair and the other on your mouth to not disturb your ‘sleeping’ daugther. 
few minutes into it, jay felt your body really stiff, not squirming or whimpering anymore, maybe she’s too lost in i—
“appa don’t you think you’re abit to old to be doing that?” 
shit
shit
shit
oh fuck
his head shoots to the direction of the stairs as he sees your 4 year old daughter, half sleepy half astonished, wiping her eyes with her chubby hands. 
now standing straight, not knowing what to do he stares into blank space for a while then stares at you
blink
blink
“ah, yes.. baby uh…” you say breaking the silence as you thought, was better than the silence. “didn’t you say she’s asleep” he whispers, almost just mouths while shooting his big wide eyes at you. 
brushing a hand through your hair, you get of the counter “could’ve atleast pulled my shirt back up jay” you mouth another sentence at him blaming him in panic while fixing your top. 
“baby, weren’t you sleeping?” you ask as walk to her and run a hand over her head, “i dunno… eomma i heard sounds… breaking sounds! i thought bad people came in..” she says, still clumbsy with her words as you chuckled, 
“oh well, uh mommy and daddy were playing a game okay?” you mentally face palm yourself as you hear jay’s embarrassing made up excuse, still funny as even you were out of excuses— i mean what the hell would you tell your 4 year old daughter who just walked in on your husband with your titty in his mouth?? 
“hmm” she says as she looks around, honestly not taken aback or interested in it at all, thank god thank god she was in her sleepy state “i want ice cream” she demands as jay now picks her up in his arms.
the sigh of relief that left both of your mouth were synchronized, you knew your daughter and how she doesn’t process anything when she has just woken up, similarly and gladly this was the case as for what she just saw. 
“you can’t have ice cream baby, it’s midnight.” jay coos at her as she puts her face on jay’s neck and nods already drowsy and sleepy, you felt bad for her to be woken up and disturbed like that. 
shooting at sorry glance at jay who was pretty much sulky right now as the sexual tension was ‘ruined’ and probably not coming back again for today as your daughter was pretty much stuck by the glue to his chest as she slept.
putting her to bed, you entered the room as you found jay on the bed hands splayed around the bed, as the baby slept peacefully in her room now, the two of you exchanged knowing glances and started quietly chortling over what just happened
“a message would be good?” you say between the laughter sitting beside his laying figure putting his head on you lap. 
“massage it is.” he says, smiling with embarrassment.
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palajae · 6 months
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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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theoldsports · 5 months
Text
SOLUTION.
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Art Donaldson x Reader | 5k words
SORRY SERIES LINK.
warnings: pregnancy, implied discussion of abortion, a boy groveling on his knees for his family, there’s a dog (a real one, not just Art), talk about Art’s forced weird athletic borderline disordered eating.
okay, i lied last time. THIS is my best work. this is very out of my brain and i hope you love it. holy shit.
Have you ever sat and listened to a leaky faucet? I mean, really listened?
Steady. Like a heartbeat, if you think about it.
Sometimes, though, if the leak is slow enough, it’s more like the kind of heart rate that sends the nurse with the crash-cart sweeping into the room to shock you out of an AFIB pattern. Or however that worked.
[Y/N] was listening to it. The dripping. The kitchen sink. It hadn’t stopped for days. When it began, it was steady. Now, it was irregular. It started the day Art left
Art had been away at an early season tournament. [Y/N] had an impossible work week, so Art had told her he was happy to go for the better part of the week on his own. They both knew Art really did hate to be alone in situations like that. He had always had one of his people there. His mom, Patrick, [Y/N]; one of them was in his corner at these things. This time, he was truly on his own. Art could not stand to travel alone. He had his team of physios and coaches, but not his family. [Y/N] was going to swing by and surprise him at the end, but her boss had leaned into her for trying to take more days off during release season for the big summer blockbusters. Plus, someone did have to watch the dog.
This context about Art’s being away is important. It’s not that Art was the epitome of a handyman, but he really liked to feel like he was contributing to their home’s ecosystem when a lightbulb went out or a switch needed replacing. The man was incredible with the small things. Yet, [Y/N] sat at the kitchen table with a frown on her face, trying to rough in an outline for an article. With the faucet dripping. If Art were there, or if she was with Art three states over, the faucet wouldn’t be dripping against the porcelain basin.
It wasn’t like the wifi signal was strong enough anywhere else on the property for her to up and move either.
drip drip drip. Said the faucet.
[Y/N] was damn near the point where she was going to run upstairs to the bedroom and get the baseball bat Art kept with the express purpose of running down the stairs in his briefs and cracking up on possible intruders. All she could think about was bringing the wood down against the glass and cheap metal on her kitchen counter.
A new house would have a working sink and a bathroom counter that wasn’t too small and a halfway decent wifi signal.
Instead, [Y/N] set her face down upon the cool blue faux granite countertop. The temperature helped ease the feeling of the hyperbolic corkscrew being driven between her eyes. The dripping kept dripping and [Y/N] wanted to cry.
This agony wasn’t all the sink’s fault, though.
[Y/N] saw on the tennis channel before she even got a call from Art that he’d won that weekend. He still hadn’t called. The lack of a call from made her feel ashamed. Not a soul there to celebrate the success with him. She felt an immense sense of guilt slide across her skin because she wasn’t there to witness that smile he got when he won. Sweaty and angry, but relieved every time. He still got that look when he won. Art was a machine on the court, and a competitor not worth counting out at this point in his career. He still looked surprised and delighted every time he, of all people, hit the winner. [Y/N] loved that look. Art loved how she would celebrate with him after a win, too.
[Y/N] prayed Art made his flight without delay that evening. Selfishly, because she wanted her boy back. Also because Art was mortally terrified of airplanes. Planes made him feel out of control due to lack of trust with the pilot. Without that phone call from him, [Y/N] was scared knowing he was out on his own and that he likely felt anxious enough to give a horse a heart attack. She would have no way of knowing if something had happened between the match end and now.
She did know that the sink was leaking.
She also knew her period was two weeks late.
That, Art couldn’t fix on his own. In fact, it was fairly obvious that the delay was more or less Art’s fault.
[Y/N] hadn’t yet taken a pregnancy test at that time. If she took the time to take one, it would make everything the obvious answer a reality she would have to deal with. She had scares before. Ones that she had never, and would never, tell Art about. She would wait for her delayed—not missed!—period and everything would be fine. Like the other times. It had to be fine.
She checked her phone. It was a blue slidephone with small rhinestone stickers she had applied to the back. Still nothing from Art. He said he would call first right after the match, but he still hadn’t actually called, so maybe it was time to call first. It had been hours since he said he’d ring up. It wasn’t a major concern that Art would blow her off. Ideas of danger and uncertainties flooded her head.
“I’m the one that wants marriage so bad. Not Artie. What if he says no? Or not now…?”
[Y/N] sat on the beach with her back against Patrick’s shins. Art and [Y/N] were completing their first year completely post college. [Y/N] and Patrick were twenty-four and Art was almost twenty-four. His November birthday set him behind.
Patrick’s hands were on her shoulders and his body in a beach chair behind her while they both stared off over ocean as the sun set. “You’re actually stupid if you think he’ll deny you, [Y/N].”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to step on his game, or whatever. The guy is supposed to ask. Isn’t this going to be… emasculating or something?”
“Emasculating for Art? For pretty baby? Yeah, okay,” Patrick teased. [Y/N] threw a fistful of sand at him. “Christ, okay, okay. Cool it.” He spit.
Art had run back up toward to hotel to grab his water bottle, while Patrick and [Y/N] stayed at the dunes. [Y/N] wanted to propose to Art by trip’s end. She thought it would be sweet. Art was extremely forward when it came to her her, but he hadn’t been forward about the whole proposal business. He seemed scared about marriage. [Y/N]he would do it herself.
She was grateful for the time alone with her best friend too. Sitting and doing nothing, or partying. Either was more than welcome. “He’s not going to say no,” Patrick continued. His mouth casually leaned close to her ear. “Because it’s insane how whipped you’ve got him.”
“Don’t say that—“
“He wants to have your babies. Ask him. Trust me, he’ll say yes and he will be all the hell over you.” His fingers worked into [Y/N]’s shoulders, feeling the tension there. He took his hands off of her when Art came running down the beach.
[Y/N] heard a click in the lock. Her head flopped to the left, still pressed against the counter, to glance at the door. Her heart rate increased. She was so tired and the speed of the situation so fast, that she didn’t both moving or attempting to defend herself.
Most fortunately, when the door swung open, it was her Art. The sun was going down behind him. He looked a bit ragged and had a racket bag over one shoulder and two duffels in the other hand. She sat upright sharply on the kitchen barstool. “Pretty baby!”
All Art’s gear hit the floor. The door was left open behind him (taking a big chance that their Labrador mix, Cheese, didn’t run down the stairs and bolt out and away). Art walked toward [Y/N], arms extending. His strong arms pulled [Y/N] in close to his chest. She rested her head against his soft gray t-shirt. Her own arms embraced him back and one of her hands tucked comfortably into the back pocket of his jeans. “[Y/N]… I missed you.” Art said into her hair.
“I missed you… I-I… You didn’t call. How did you get here—“
“Final match actually started on time, so I gambled on moving my flight to the earlier one. I didn’t have time to call if I was taking the early one. I should’ve texted. I got nervous with the-the flight. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
[Y/N] leaned back to look at him. There was no more welcome sight in the world than Art Donaldson. Irish genetics saw to it that Art was freckled from the spring sun. With shaggy hair boyishly covered by a baseball cap tipping back dangerously, he practically glowed. Even though he looked like shit. His sunglasses were hanging on his shirt. [Y/N/] tilted her head up, signaling for a kiss. Hungrily, Art leaned forward to take as many kisses as he wanted. His lips tasted like spearmint gum. Like always.
Cheese did run downstairs when Art’s hand climbed up the side of [Y/N]’s throat and when her own hand started to squeeze from under the fabric of Art’s back left pants pocket. Art had to pull regretfully away to grab Cheese by the collar and shut the front door.
Delightedly, Art did gteet Cheese with ear-scratches and a belly rub. Art received the customary licks and a tailwags in return. Cheese was always pretty down when the whole family wasn’t together. He walked and played a bit, but when his dad wasn’t around, Cheese kind of deflated. He had spent most of the time laying flat on Art’s side of the bed. It was obvious the dog was grieving the disappearance of his boy.
When Art bent down to pat his beloved Cheese, [Y/N] stood from her chair and bent at the waist. She pulled Art’s hat off and set it on the counter. Gently, she kissed Art on top of the head. With a scratch not unlike the ones he gave to the canine to the back of Art’s neck, the man looked up at her from the ground with a half-smile.
“Congrats, baby,” [Y/N] said. Art cut his eyes curiously from her to the tennis channel on the TV playing in the next room. That had him realizing where she would have gotten the information of his win from so efficiently. “How was the tournament? I’m sorry I couldn’t—“
“Sure, sure, but I bet Cheese here is pretty glad you were home,” Art said and stood up with one final pat to Cheese’s flank. “The whole thing was great. I… I’m kind of surprised I won, if I’m being honest.” Art said, wrapping an arm around [Y/N]’s waist.
Naturally, her hands flattened against his toned chest when he tugged her towards him. “I’m not. You’re fucking good at tennis, Art.”
His ears reddened in embarrassment as he tucked his face into [Y/N]’s neck to hide his face. Art was used to praise and loved it more than anything, no matter where it came from. Every compliment from [Y/N] was worth a hell of a lot more. Art hated thinking about why that was the case. He knew why, though. She had seen he and Patrick play and even then thought Art was good. Art still won the match when it came to [Y/N] and he would never tell her that.
“Hush…” He mumbled into her neck, planting a biting, teasing kiss there. She laughed. He laughed. “I played against an eighteen year old kid yesterday. He played really well,” Art leaned back to look at her again. “You saw, I’m sure,” he indicated the TV with a nod. “He would’ve won this weekend if I hadn’t won that match. Just… I’m twenty-six. Made me feel old.”
“…Glad you won, then.”
“I said if I hadn’t…”
“Well, if you’re sooooo down on your win then congrats on flying home all by yourself like a big boy.” [Y/N] smirked.
“Oh, you’re gonna be like that, huh?” Art withdrew his hands from his wife’s body and put them teasingly on his own hips.
[Y/N] nodded. “Yeah. If you’re old, imagine how I feel.”
“Ancient, probably.”
Art leaned in for another kiss. She pushed him back playfully. “No! You called me old!” [Y/N] laughed.
She leaned one way, then the other to avoid Art’s beautifully wrinkled nose and smiling mouth. “Please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re-you’re not old!” Art said and attempted to trap her with his arms and give her a kiss.
[Y/N] turned hard over her shoulder and ran up the stairs. Cheese gave a woof from the couch when Art chased after her. Art spent his life chasing after her.
“No! You can’t kiss me! Doghouse! Bad Art! Bad!” [Y/N] accused jokingly. Art jumped up the stairs. He took them two and three at a time.
Art backed her against the bathroom door. Nowhere left to run. His rough hands settled on her hips. “Gotcha. You’re pretty fast for an old lady, y’know. Late for bingo, or—“ Art smirked when he leaned in to kiss her.
[Y/N] shut him up with a kiss. She had missed his stupid boy babbling. His mouth was soft against hers. Art put one of his hands on the wooden door beside her face to hold himself up. The other hand found her belt loop, keeping her body close to his.
“I love you,” Art whispered between kisses. “I love you so much, honey. I missed you.”
[Y/N]’s head leaned back against the door with a soft thud. Her breath caught in her throat. “I love you t—mmh!” Art leaned in for another kiss.
The joy of being Art Donaldson’s wife was that he never got tired of touching her, or being physically close. Sometimes, [Y/N] would look over at him while she was writing, or making dinner, and he would be staring, or slowly extending his hand to her and seeing how long it took for [Y/N] to acknowledge his presence. It never ceased to make her feel beautiful. “Can we…” his fingers danced over the button on her jeans.
“Can we what…?” She asked coyly.
Art blushed, but smirked and lowered his lips by [Y/N] ear. “Can we fuck? Please?” He asked too politely for as dirty as those words were. Like the good midwestern boy that he was.
She tipped her head back further. Art kissed her neck with all the energy he could muster. “Can I not make you dinner first? You-you a cheap whore as well as old now, too?” [Y/N] jeered. Art snorted a laugh. The warm air from the giggle spread over [Y/N]’s skin, causing goosebumps to raise. “I’m never letting you leave home alone again, then.”
Art nodded against her skin, sucking and licking a spot they both new would bruise dark. The sound she let out was absolutely disgusting and Art loved it. “I would prefer to never be let out of your sight, personally.” He said when he pulled away.
“Come on, house boy… We’re havin’ dinner. And you’re gonna eat some bread,” [Y/N] said, pointing a finger at Art’s chest. He started to put up a fight about the ultra-low nonexistent amount of inactive carbs he was eating during the season, but [Y/N] kept chattering. “Stop talking. Your brain doesn’t work right without carbs. Braindead. Come on, dinner.”
“You’re bad for me.”
“I know.” [Y/N] smiled.
Normally, [Y/N] drank a cup of coffee when the pair made dinner. Art knew the pattern. He made her the cup of coffee every time. It sat mostly unfinished that night, though. She found herself heating and reheating it in the microwave as they cooked. She started to space out as he recapped the tournament in full detail, as she requested. If Art noticed, he didn’t let on. [Y/N] noticed, though. Little stood between her and coffee. She didn’t want to drink it. That was violently unusual.
“Hey, I’m gonna go piss. Can you—“
“Watch the sauce?” Art asked, indicating the creamy pesto she had on the stove while Art cleaned and cut vegetables.
“Mhm.” [Y/N] confirmed. Art slid over to take the spoon from her. He placed a hand at the bottom of her back as she walked away. Art fit perfectly into her life. It wasn’t fair how right he was for her.
She went to the upstairs bathroom instead of the downstairs one. She hoped that didn’t set off Art’s sixth sense about the way-things-had-to-be. Once upstairs, [Y/N] wasted no time yanking open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. It was overflowing, naturally. Makeup, supplements, condoms, hair ties, pill bottles, loose painkillers. It was a disaster. There was also a pregnancy test.
A laughing Art had given it to [Y/N] as a joke the morning after their wedding night and she had hit him hard enough to bruise across the chest. The test sat wrapped and in the box behind the mirror every day since. Just in case.
[Y/N] had officially arrived at just in case.
She gingerly tossed the empty box under the sink so Art wouldn’t see it without looking for it. Then, [Y/N] undid the buttons on her overalls and, well, took the test.
Lacking the time to sit and watch it come back positive or negative, [Y/N] tossed the clean cap on the stick, slid it into the pocket of her overalls, washed her hands and went downstairs like nothing was wrong.
Except she knew something was wrong. Now she felt like she had a loaded gun in her pocket. She was too cautious with her movements due to the fear that the test would slip out of her front right pocket in front of Art.
She was damn near about to step into the pantry and shut the door just to see if the pee stick had one line or two. If he wasn’t already suspicious, that would do it. [Y/N] felt that the anxiety created was easily the worst anxiety she had ever had. Oops.
[Y/N] got quiet. She was talking less and listening more. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but she was a chatterbox. Art would notice her blanched face and wrinkled brow eventually, she worried.
Ever the perceptive bastard, Art did. When he sat beside [Y/N] at the counter to eat a bowl of pasta with more inactive carbs than he had eaten in six months, he kept cutting his eyes at her. His bare foot nudged her ankle. Her dish was relatively untouched. “You good, babe? You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird.”
“You are being weird because you’re not being you. I’ve barely asked you how you’re doing with all the excitement. Long day?” Art asked, setting down his fork to drag his hand across the back of her shoulders.
“Yeah, a bit.” [Y/N] said. What she meant to say was I have a pregnancy test and I bet it is positive in my pocket right now and I’m so terrified that I can practically smell my pit stains right now, baby. But she didn’t say that.
Art spun to face her, taking in her expression and demeanor. There was that contemplative knot perched between his eyebrows. The back of his hand landed calmly on [Y/N]’s forehead to check her temperature. “Art…” [Y/N] said, pushing his hand down.
“No, hang on.” Art said firmly. He tried to put his hand back on her face. Instead, not having a clue what it said, [Y/N] reached into her front right pocket and slammed the pregnancy test down between them. Art retracted his hand and flinched back a bit at the sudden movement. The test was face down on the counter.
Art’s eyes cut from the test back to her. His face was suddenly very solemn. “Are you—“
“—I dunno. I didn’t-I couldn’t look. It’s been in my pocket for twenty minutes. No idea.”
“Do you think you are?”
[Y/N] shrugged and looked at her bowl. It looked too green. sick sick sick. drip drip drip said the faucet.
“Do you want to know if you are?” Art asked wide-eyed. “I want to know, personally. Do… Do you?”
Again, [Y/N] shrugged. “If we don’t look, it’s not real.”
“…That’s stupid.” Art shook his head.
“You’re stupid.”
Art sighed. “I’m gonna look. I mean, I’m going to turn it over,” his eyes frantically reached for [Y/N]’s. He grabbed her hand with his to get her attention. “I’m going to look. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah.” She whispered and it was okay.
And she was pregnant.
Two blue lines stared at them.
“Fuck.” [Y/N] said. She felt both elated and humiliated. She wanted so badly to be a mother. She wanted to cry. How could they keep it? The timing was wrong. She hadn’t agreed to this. The two of them had so many fights about it. She barely understood how this happened. She thought they were being so careful. It didn’t make any sense. Every precaution she could think of had been taken at one point or another.
And the fucking faucet was still dripping. She could hear it. drip drip drip. Over and over.
“Fuck.” She said sliding out of her chair and standing unsteadily. That wasn’t the result one should feel when they get something they have spent so long wanting.
Art ran his hands through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be smiling when she looked so worried. His face betrayed the wide smile he hoped to hide. That’s exactly what he wanted to see. Fuck.
“Honey… Hey, hey. You’re okay. This is awesome. C’mere.” Art said like he was diffusing a bomb. His arm were wide open to hold her.
“Art…”
“No, uh-uh. Just come here. Please.”
Cautiously, [Y/N] made her way into her favorite pair of arms in the world. “It’s not supposed to be like this.” [Y/N] choked out as Art held her.
“Shh, I know, I know,” Art said calmly. His left hand’s fingers brushed her hair away from her face. “But that’s how it is now. We have to accept that and solve for the next move, right?” It was silent for a while after that. [Y/N]’s arms were tightly wrapped around Art’s shoulders and their bowls of pasta were certainly cold. She felt that she had ruined everything.
She glanced at Art’s face. The small smile betrayed him. “Art… We can’t. Not now.” she had told Art not now so many times that it felt forced and rehearsed. Now that [Y/N] that was actually pregnant, she wanted nothing more than to stay pregnant. The timing was far from good. She had articles that were still very due the next day. She had a husband who very much traveled often for work (who she traveled with too). She had Cheese, who was staring at her weird over the back the couch because he didn’t understand crying.
“What do you mean we can’t?” Art said quietly. “We-We can. We… have. We are… Actively.” He fumbled.
“We can. We did! But… You know now’s not a good time, baby.” [Y/N] countered weakly.
Art’s hands never left [Y/N]’s waist. “Let’s run pros and cons.”
“Pretty baby.” She said accusatorially. Good old analytic Art…
“Let’s run pros and cons.” Art repeated unflinchingly. He sprang up off of his barstool to gather a sharpie and a legal pad from some drawer. Art uncapped the marker harshly with his teeth. Cap between his teeth still, he asked: “Do you want it?” while he found a clean, smooth page.
Before she could respond with her head, [Y/N] responded with her heart. She nodded a yes to him immediately. “Do you?”
Art capped the back end of the marker to free up his mouth. “More than anything ever, I think. It would probably kill me a little bit, actually, if… Yeah. I understand and it’s all up to you, honey, but… Yeah.” His hand created a PRO column and a CON column on the page.
Under PRO, Art added the items he knew would cause no trouble in his blocky capitalized handwriting:
FINALLY START FAMILY
NATURAL/EASY START
SEASON ALMOST OVER
[Y/N] HAS FLEXIBLE HRS
DREAM COME TRUE??
WILL BE GR8 PARENTS
[Y/N] nodded in approval. She couldn’t think of more pros, but Art handed her the marker and she started in on the CON list:
OLYMPICS??
ART’S NEVER HOME
EXPENSIVE
SMOKING/COFFEE
CHEESE JEALOUS?
TOO YOUNG!
Art drew the line at giving up stimulants and assigning the dog human traits and struck both of those off the list with a frown.
Frankly, Art thought the cons list turned out rude.
“I haven’t qualified for the Olympics yet,” he protested. “And if I do, imagine how early on that would be. Before all the hard stuff.”
[Y/N] replied with the thing they both knew was the most real problem. She had waited forever to say it out loud. “No offense… You are never home anymore. You’re busy all the time. Which I get. It’s your job. You’re good at your job. But look how excited the fuckin’ dog got to see you because you were gone so long. You are never here. We can’t put a human in doggy day camp all the time. It would be fucking impossible to raise—“
“I’ll quit,” Art said, wincing. He wouldn’t. [Y/N] felt that this was a bluff. He tried in vain to hide his expression of shame. “I’ll quit tennis.” He said. He wasn’t going to.
“That would worsen the problem. No money.”
“I’ll work at the 7/11. I’ll be a construction worker. I could be a fuckin’ coach. I actually have a degree, y’know, I can use it. I’m more than a racket. I don’t want you to feel alone here. I want to be here for all of it, I can—“
“You know I’m alone here a lot, babe. A lot. You don’t… You’re in a position where you’re unable to help constantly. Because you’re gone. That’s okay. I married you knowing that, right? But a baby, Art? That’s not fair.”
“I’ll bail on a season. I will. I just…” Art stared at her. “Please. I’m begging you. See this kid through with me.”
The sharpie was forgotten on the counter along with dinner. Art’s knees landed on the floor before [Y/N]. Art practically lived on his knees in front of [Y/N]. He gathered [Y/N] hands in his. “Please. It’s your call, but hear me out. Because that thing is part of both us. I don’t want you to hate or resent me or the little stinker forever, but you want it. I know that. Hear me out.” His beautiful two-tone eyes stared up at her.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“I will give you anything. Please, my world is you. Not tennis; you. I’m telling you, I-I would leave that behind to be anything you need right now. Just ask it. You’re my fucking priority, you got that? I just.. I… Please? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to keep it too, but—“
“Then what’s the big deal?” Art asked hopefully.
“It isn’t a good time. It’s too soon.”
Art’s mouth trailed kisses across his wife’s stomach and hips and hands and arms. He let this go on for several minutes. “Please,” Art whimpered pathetically into the skin of her wrist. “Please, please, please. I will do anything, my love. I’m on my knees here,” Art looked up at her through thick lashes. “We can do this. Both of us together. I’ll do whatever you want. You know I will. This can be good for us. I’m really sorry we’re here, but here we are, hon. What time’s going to be the right time? Please. I love you.” Art pleaded desperately.
[Y/N] knew this was going to be a disaster. But she wanted to keep it. What time’s going to be the right time? rung in her ears over and over, like the faucet. They had put so much time into arguing about the time and the place that would be right for a family. Now it was right in front of them. Her hand caressed Art’s face. She loved it when he groveled like that. This time, on his knees and everything. On instinct, he nuzzled his face into her hand and looked up at her through long lashes.
“Will you fix the faucet? It’s been dripping all week.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’m going to think about it. The baby.”
“You will?” Art’s teary eyes widened.
“Objectively, this is a terrible fucking idea. We both know that. But if it’s really so terrible, why do I feel, like… happy about it…”
Art’s face lit up. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. [Y/N], honestly, found it very hard to say no to Art. His arms wrapped carefully around her thighs while his head rested against her middle as he knelt. [Y/N] could feel his silver ring through the denim of her overalls. “God, I love you. I love you, [Y/N]. We’re not going to regret this. Holy shit…”
“Love you too. We’re gonna… We’re gonna try, maybe? This doesn’t feel real. Does this feel real? I…”
“It feels like a dream is what it feels like,” Art mumbled into her clothes. “I love you.” Art said, pressing a kiss to her stomach.
“I love you.”
“I’m gonna be a dad…” Art almost wept. “If you, y’know, but… Shit. I’m sorry.” Which part he was apologizing for was unclear.
At that, [Y/N] laughed and tangled her fingers in his curly blonde mop of hair. “Yeah, you’re gonna be a fucking dad, pretty baby.” She smiled.
[Y/N]’s next instinct was to say: I have to call Patrick. Then she remembered couldn’t call Patrick.
TAGLIST (ask to join):
@diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @shysstuff @soberbabes @avylanchce
apologies for tag issues. i’ll dm those it didn’t work for!
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starkwlkr · 7 months
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fever dream | sebastian vettel
part 2 part 3
warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!
AN: THIS SAYS THAT SEB AND THE READER WERE TEAM MATES FOR 2014 AND 2015 THATS A MISTAKE SORRY I ONLY MEANT TO PUT 2014 😭
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yourusername a short trip back home 🤍
lewishamilton enjoy it!
yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍
lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more
yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home
yourusername 🤍 love you
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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”
but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.
“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.
“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.
“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.
“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”
“alison!”
the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.
“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.
“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”
“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.
“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.
“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.
“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”
or a mother.
only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.
you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.
“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”
you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.
“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.
“hello?”
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dervampireprince · 1 year
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taking care of astarion after cazador's death no smut, just comfort /// gender-neutral reader/tav
after cazador's deminse, after the spawn leave, once it's just you and your companions again, astarion doesn't speak. it's as if he's in a daze. you're torn between giving him space and leaving him on his own, and wondering if he really needs to not be alone right now.
he's still covered in blood, you'd given him a shirt he pulled on over his head, the grime on his skin soaked through and left it sticking to his skin, it was over his face, in his hair. he didn't make any move to wipe any of it away.
the trek out of the castle, out of the dark, seemed so long. you wondered how he was still standing, how he was dragging his legs. you stay by his side, but did not touch him, you make no move to grab his hand, to sooth him. you hoped walking at his side, matching his pace, conveyed enough. you were here. and you weren't going to touch him until he said it was alright.
you only had one plan you cared about when you finally reached the inn. the others talked amongst themselves, one by one their eyes lingering on astarion, apologising, telling him he did the right thing, that they were proud of him. you watched them start to retreat up to their rooms as you spoke with innkeeper.
once done with your conversation, key in hand, astarion still stood at the foot of the stairs.
"were you waiting for me?" you asked. he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes drifted down, he paused. "i want to take you somewhere. and i know you're tired, i promise it's to help you rest."
he nodded, still mute, you reached out to take his hand, stopped yourself, and instead beckon him to follow you.
you wound through the inn, existing out into a small garden, and entering the building on the other side, guiding astarion through the main door and down the corridors until you found the door that fits the key the innkeeper gave you.
inside was a small, private bath, sunken into the ground like a hot spring. it's nothing that fancy, but it's quiet, and fits it's purpose. you press the key into his hand, carefully.
"i can leave, if you'd like. and you can take all the time you need... or, if you'd rather, i can stay and help you wash. and that's all we'll be doing. i'd be touching you, but it wouldn't be sexual. and if you're not comfortable with that, it's okay," you twisted your head to try and catch his gaze. "would you like me to stay or go? i won't be offended or upset, the choice is yours, and if you'd rather i go i'll be waiting for you upstairs."
he still didn't speak, you wondered if his screams and cries earlier have made his voice hoarse, or if he just can't bring himself too. your hand hovered by his cheek, not touching, but trying to guide his head to turn towards yours, and when he finally does there's wetness in his eyes, the blood high on his cheekbones becoming smudged.
"would you like me to stay?"
his teeth sank into his lip, if they drew blood you'd be unable to tell. he nodded his head.
"would you like to undress yourself, or do you want me to help?"
you saw him shudder, and he stepped back and as he started to remove his clothes you did the same with yours. you wade into the bath, sinking down and sigh as the water washes over your tired muscles.
you turned, and reached out a hand towards him. he took it.
he's silent as you reached into the small basket at the side of the bath, lathering soap in your hands and getting to work, starting with his hands, kneading around his nails, up his arms, his torso, his face.
he's silent as you nudged him to move, knelt up behind him, asked him to tilt his head back, poured water over his head, felt him start to relax as he closed his eyes, running your hands through his hair, feeling as though it's the most intimate action you've ever done with him, despite the multiple nights of passion.
he's still silent when you exited the baths, annoyed that you can't just roll under clean sheets but have to redress yourselves, as you hesitated to follow him into your room, ready to bunk with one of the others, but he took your hand, and then you're both silent as you undress again, crawl under the sheets, letting him reach for you this time, now that he's ready, taking him in your arms, cradling his head to your chest, fingers playing with his hair.
you don't imagine the soft "thank you" that fell from his lips as you both drifted off to sleep.
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two little lines
toji x reader
in which you find out that you're pregnant and fear toji's reaction.
because of pregnancy this is technically an AFAB!reader, but I did my best to keep it gender neutral. though I did use the pet name "doll" (sorry it feels so toji), and I don't exactly know if it's gender neutral.
despite this technically being AFAB, if you're AMAB and want to read I am not here to yuck your yum.
wc: 1551
look at me mixing it up with a toji fic after three straight nanami fics!
pt. 2 pt. 3
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two little lines. all it took to seemingly destroy your entire life was two little lines on a pregnancy test. 
sure, it had been two months since your last period, and sure, you were in a long-term relationship, so pregnancy was something that was technically plausible. however, you just couldn’t fathom how you had been so careless. i mean, having two kids was enough, but a third? 
no, your husband was definitely going to leave you, and the thought of it made your heart clench. 
‘fuck,’ you thought, vision blurring. ‘everything is just going to end because of two stupid fucking pink lines?’ 
you’re lucky toji was off on some other random bounty hunt, giving you time to hide the test before going to pick megumi and tsumiki up from school. the floorboards creak as you run to the kitchen, throwing the test in the box with your favorite snacks, knowing toji would never look inside it.  
silence fills the house, creating a sharp juxtaposition with the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. there has to be some way to calm down before going to get your stepkids. you tried everything you could think of, from splashing cold water on your face to walking around to holding an ice cube in your hand, until eventually you got to a point where you felt like you could pretend. 
keys, wallet and stress in hand, you got in the car and headed to their elementary school. the kids were there, standing on the curb, and you waved as you approached. there seemed to be an argument before tsumiki opened the passenger-side door, megumi grumbling as he slid into the backseat. 
“how was school?” you asked, and the kids scrambled to talk about what they learned, from the different types of clouds to their times-tables. 
“it was super fun and the teacher said that we have a new project coming up about the types of clouds! we get to make diaramas of them and it sounds really fun!” tsumiki exclaims, the smile evident in her voice. 
“that does sound fun! you’ll have to tell your dad all about it when he gets home,” you feel your brows furrow at the mention of toji, but you quickly resume your role of the happy guardian so as not to cause any problems. 
the house comes into view minutes later, and megumi runs inside. you turn to get out before tsumiki sighs softly. 
“wait,” she says, and you turn to her. “is something wrong?” 
‘curse her for being so observant,’ you think, but you shake your head quickly. 
“nothing for you to worry about, just worried about your father, as always,” which technically is not a lie, just not fully the truth. 
“oh, well you know that he’ll be okay! he’ll be back and then he’ll stomp around the house talking about those ‘damn sorcerers’-” tsumiki deepens her voice to imitate her father, but you stop her. 
“hey! watch your language!” she opens the door and runs inside, laughing the whole way, and you smile softly. you really do love those kids, even if they aren’t yours by blood. 
the house is cold when you enter, and you make your way towards the thermostat. however, before you can even turn the temperature up, a sour taste climbs up your throat. you feel sweat drench your brow, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re going to throw up. 
you run up the stairs, throwing yourself in front of the toilet to empty your stomach. footsteps pad up the stairs, and you feel a little hand rubbing against your back. 
“(y/n)? are you sure you’re okay?” tsumiki’s soft voice brought tears to your eyes, more running down your cheeks as you retched. it took a minute or two to get everything out of your system before you sit back on your heels. 
“sorry, i guess i’m a little sick. we should have some microwavable meals in the fridge, do you think you could make some food for you and megumi?” she nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. 
‘he’s going to find out soon,’ you worry, brushing your teeth to rid the awful taste from your mouth. ‘i guess i should get some rest so i don’t have to face him when he comes home.’ 
you sink into your shared bed, blankets reaching out to hug your body, and you drift off to sleep. 
the bed sinks, pulling you out of your slumber. you begin to turn to face your husband before you’re reminded of the events from earlier. your pulse is rapid, and you think about pretending that you’re still asleep before toji speaks. 
“hey doll. ‘miki said that you weren’t feeling well earlier. you’re not hurt, are you? i can handle whoever it is for you.” you smile at the softness he only displays for you, but how can you explain that the person causing you stress is none other than him?
“i’m okay. it’s probably food poisoning or something. you did cook dinner last night,” he frowns, groaning lowly. 
“i’m not that bad. the brats said it was fine enough,” you laugh at him, burrowing into the blankets. your husband slides his shirt over his head, revealing his broad shoulders riddled with muscles and scars. mindlessly, you reach out to caress him softly, and he slides into bed beside you. while normally you’d ask to lay on his chest, you’re worried being that close would make him aware of your irregular pulse. 
“goodnight babe,” you say, curling back into yourself and closing your eyes, knowing that if you look at him now his confusion would cause the truth to tumble out. 
“night doll,” he hesitates, weight settling in on the other side of the bed. 
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
you wake up to a quiet house, something that sets you off immediately. two elementary school aged kids does not bode well for a quiet house, and so you sit up, reaching to your right to find toji’s side of the bed cold to the touch. 
‘okay, something’s up.’ 
you walk down the stairs to the kitchen, calling out for the kids, only to see that their shoes aren’t by the door. toji’s in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. 
“hey babe, where are the kids?” you normally get them off to school, but it seems that maybe you’d slept in late. 
“they’re at school,” he says shortly, taking you aback. 
“okay. sorry i slept in, i must have been really tire-” you stop when you step into the kitchen, seeing your positive pregnancy test on the counter. the whole world freezes, and you can feel everything crashing down. 
“oh that? yeah, it was weird. i tried to bring your favorite snack to you in bed when the box was making a weird sound. found that at the bottom.” he gestures haphazardly, cracking the dam holding the next wave of your anxiety back. 
“it’s a friend’s-”
“don’t bullshit me. were you even going to tell me?” his voice is low, eyes piercing. 
“toji-” 
“were. you. going. to. tell me.” he enunciates. 
“i didn’t know how! i mean seriously, you have two kids to worry about, the last thing you need is a fucking baby! i get it, it’s over. i’ll go get my shit,” tears are running down your cheeks as you tear out your heart with your bare hands. you turn to leave, making your way upstairs, when a hand grabs your wrist softly. 
“wait–doll. fuck.” he turns you to face him. “you don’t have to leave.” 
“of course i fucking do. should probably go now before the kids get back. i don’t want them involved.” you take another step, but his grip remains firm. 
“i said you don’t have to leave. the brat’s mine too.” 
“wait. you want to keep it?” he looks to the side, rubbing his other hand against his neck. 
“of course i fucking do,” he mirrors, and your eyes widen. 
“you mean…you’re not mad?” 
“i’m mad you didn’t tell me, not about the brat.” your eyes water, and before you know it you’re sobbing into his chest. 
“what is this all about? you really have such a low opinion of me to think i’d kick you out?” his voice rumbles through his chest against your ear. 
“you’re just so busy, and i thought…i thought that you would be mad,” you sob even harder, not knowing where the emotions end and hormones begin. 
“so what? i’d just kick you to the curb?” 
“i mean, you have two kids already…maybe a third would be too much.” he starts to chuckle, causing you to pull away from him. 
“what’s so funny?” 
“that you seriously thought i’d kick you out. i don’t break promises, doll, and marriage is just a big promise. besides, you’d probably get custody of the brats. they like you more than me.” 
you run your hands over your face before reaching out to play with his hair. 
“you’re really not mad?” you repeat, and he rolls his eyes.
“no dumbass. besides, i can’t let any other men see how hot you are carrying my kid.” you snort, circling your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 
“love you, toji.” 
“love you too, doll.” he says, your lips meeting.
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Saving Batboy
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It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.
Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.
Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.
Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.
Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.
If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?
It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.
Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.
Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.
Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.
****
"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.
The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.
"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.
"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.
"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.
"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"
"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.
****
Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.
When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.
"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"
Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.
His son looked at him with pleading eyes.
"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.
Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.
Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.
"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.
Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.
Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.
"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.
The journey back to the manor was silent until.
"I'm sorry." Bruce said.
"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.
Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.
When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.
Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.
Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.
The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.
Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.
Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.
Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?
Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.
Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.
But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.
A sneeze.
A fucking sneeze.
It came up from under the cloak.
Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.
"What happened!!" He yelped.
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Heyoo can I request modern au aegon ii x reader with prompt 19 "you're my favorite person" where aegon is the golden retriever vibe in the relationship and reader is the black cat vibe and he gets jealous when he sees her connecting with Daeron but she reassures him with prompt 19 (if you're up for it, you can add smut but no biggie!)
Thank you!
I took another turn with Daeron, but kept the black cat/golden retriever dynamic
Warnings: inappropriate flirting (from Daeron)
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’I need to start looking for an apartment,’’ Aegon grumbled as he came back to his bedroom, frustrated by the crowded house.
Everyone was back home for the summer, much to Aegon’s annoyance. Aemond and Helaena were back from college, and Daeron from boarding school. Despite the house's size, it felt cramped and easy to invade someone's space.
He settled into bed and leaned in to kiss you, but you pushed his shoulder. His lips formed a pout, silently begging for a kiss. You sighed and gave in, pecking him sweetly. 
‘’You said that when it was winter break…and spring break. Yet, you’re still here,’’ you reminded him, taking a strawberry from the bowl he just brought. 
Moving out and getting his own place sounded nice, but Aegon was too comfortable at home. There were no bills to pay, no cleaning to do, and no cooking required—mainly because he didn't know how to cook anything other than plain pasta or toast. Moving out would mean living alone. His parents might be too in his business sometimes, but it was better than solitude.
‘’Because when I asked you to move in with me you said ‘no’,’’ Aegon countered, settling back against his pillows.
You sighed, not feeling like having this conversation again. Your family wasn’t poor, but you and Aegon were not from the same social class. He was very privileged compared to you. His dad pulled strings to get him a full scholarship and got him a paid internship while you were working at the bookstore part-time at minimum wage. 
‘’Where’s the melted chocolate to dip them in?’’ you asked, your eyes searching for the bowl.
Aegon groaned. ‘’Shit. I forgot it on the counter…’’
‘’I’ll go get it,’’ you said, standing up and heading towards the door.
You walked down the hallways and downstairs to the kitchen when you found the bowl of melted chocolate exactly where Aegon had left it. You grabbed it and saw it was not melt-y enough so you put it back in the microwave. While you were waiting, Daeron came through the sliding doors, shirtless and hair wet from being in the pool. 
‘’Hey there,’’ he said, grinning. ‘’I didn’t know you were here.’’ Daeron leaned against the counter, appreciating your choice of clothing for the day. ‘’What are you doing?’’
‘’Reheating the chocolate,’’ you replied, glancing at him and then back at the microwave. ‘’Aegon and I are watching movies.’’ 
Daeron watched as you moved, his inappropriate gaze un-noticed by you. ‘’It’s nice out, you should come swim.’’ 
You glanced outside, seeing the sun shining bright. ‘’It’s too hot. Maybe later.’’ 
‘’Hot is good.’’ Daeron locked eyes with you, but you looked away, praying the microwave would beep soon. 
Once it did, you quickly grabbed the bowl and stirred the chocolate, not caring that it was hot. ‘’I have to get back to Aegon.’’ 
As if he had sensed what was going on, Aegon stepped into the kitchen. ‘’What’s taking you so long, babe?’’ he asked, his voice tense when he saw Daeron ogling you.
You looked over to Aegon, chocolate in hand. ‘’Had to melt the chocolate again,’’ you explained. ‘’I was heading back now.’’ 
You led the way to the stairs, wanting to get out of the kitchen and away from Daeron’s attempt at flirting. You were dating his brother, how did he think this was okay? 
Back in the bedroom, Aegon sat down heavily on the bed after closing the door. ‘’What the fuck was that? I can't believe him…’’ 
‘’It’s fine, Aegon. He was just—’’ 
‘’It’s not fine. The little shit was staring at your tits through your shirt! These tits are mine.’’
You rolled your eyes. ‘’He’s seventeen. You did the same when you were his age,’’ you said, thankful Aegon didn’t hear what Daeron had said. He would be so mad. 
‘’I don’t want his perverted eyes to look at my girlfriend.’’ Aegon pulled you down on his lap, almost making you drop the chocolate. 
With your free hand, you cupped his jaw, looking at him closely. ‘’I don’t care who looks at me. I love you.’’ You kissed him, slow and deep until he calmed down from his jealous fit. ‘’You’re my favorite person,’’ you said, leaning your forehead against his. 
Your words made Aegon smile, his arms wrapping around you. ‘’You’re mine too.’’
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princessbrunette · 7 months
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⊹ . ⁺ 🍭🤍⋅˚₊𐙚
being sarah’s lil best friend who just won’t leave rafe alone.
you always see yourself into the house, which aggravates him as it means he has no control over the home he sees as his own, stepping up for ward. sarah hasn’t even made it out of her bedroom before you’ve barrelled into the kitchen in the tiniest shorts and a bikini top that might aswell not be there, throwing your arms around him as soon as he turns around.
“hiiiii rafe!” you practically pur, lashes batting and purposeful. he swore he could even feel you pushing yourself up against the shape between his thighs beneath his shorts.
“shouldnt you be with my sister?” he drawls in a deadpan, trying his best to ignore the way his body heats up. he peels you off his body and pushes his hair back.
“what i can’t say hi?” you coo, clasping your hands all faux innocent below your waist, the act of your arms coming inwards only forcing your tits to jostle together. he licks his lips subconsciously. jesus, rafe— control yourself. that’s your little sisters friend.
he doesn’t get to think of an answer because sarah comes swinging in, instantly wrapping a hand around your arm. “hey! there you are.” she directs her attention to rafe, a glare. “is my pervert brother bothering you?” she scowls and he throws his hands up in exasperation, knowing for once he actually didn’t do anything wrong.
“no, no. it’s okay.” you shake your head all shy, all victim-like and non-convincingly which only makes sarah shake her head in disgust at her brother, leading you up the stairs. he watches you go, and you peer over your shoulder — stifling a giggle as you bite down on your manicure. fucking menace.
he doesn’t like losing, or more specifically — losing control, so when you show up one day when sarah isn’t home, he feels like he has to escape you before he gives into his impulses.
“there you are, been lookin’ all over for you.” you chirp, sliding into the kitchen where he stands at the fridge. his eyes widen for a second, looking around for his sister.
“y—you know sarah’s not even home. wastin’ your time here ‘cos she’s off with that routledge kid.” he shakes his head, forcing nonchalance as he leans down to scan the inside of the fridge. you’re at his side before he blinks, nail grazing his thick, tanned arm as you all but pet him. he felt weak.
“cant i just hang out with you? why’s it always gotta be about sarah?” you pout, urging him to look your way. you’d really perfected your doe eyed pout since you’d last visited, and the angle you stood at gave him the perfect view down your top. it’s exactly why he grabbed an apple juice carton and turned away, meandering away from the fridge after closing it.
“well i’m not your friend, alright? go home.” he commands, but of course you follow.
“you’re playin’ hard to get.” you whine.
“you’re playing hard to get rid of.” he retorts and you giggle, catching up to him.
“play with me rafey.” you chime seductively, and the tone makes his cock jump. so much so that it irritates him, and as you reach to grab at him again, he snaps around to you, gripping your wrist.
“quit with the slut shit, alright? you’re my little sisters friend. know what that means? means you’re just a fucking kid.” his voice raises only a tad, but it’s enough to snap you out of your whole bravado— the act dropped as you stare up at him with wide eyes, shocked. he can see that you’re hurt and he lets go, the regret instantly settling in as he licks his lips thoughtfully, scratching his forehead.
“okay.” you barely whisper, rejected and damaged. he watches you for a moment, and as you move away to leave he speaks.
“sarah will probably be home soon she… she always comes back. so… just go hang in her room. you’re uh—welcome to stay, alright?” he raises his eyebrows, talking all slow and reassuring the same way you’d speak to a younger sibling to stop them from crying and snitching on you when you play too rough. that wasn’t much comfort to you.
you do as he says and stay there for the rest of the evening. you wake from your slumber when the door cracks open, late at night. you think it might be sarah, but you’re met with her big brother instead.
“sarah still not back?” he converses awkwardly, though the answer is clear. you shake your head, shy and bashful. this was where he wanted you. the control was back in his hands. he’d broken you down to make you feel like you couldn’t have him, and now he could take what he wanted.
he nods, slowly approaching the bed and he almost smirks at that hopeful look in your eyes.
“doin’ a bad thing, kid. you are aware of that, right?” he asks and you nod, your turn to look guilty. he scratches at his jaw, deep in thought as he eyes you over— cute little lacy cami and pyjama shorts that rode up far too high. shit, he could even see your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. was he meant to be the bad guy for not being able to resist this shit? “must think you’re a big girl… comin’ onto me like that earlier. hah…” he chuckles, almost nervously at what he’s about to do.
“just want you. s’not my fault.” you pout and he fixes his expression to a faux solemn frown, nodding like he was very serious.
“yeah, nah— can’t… can’t control what our bodies want, right?” he justifies and you nod before the two of you stare at eachother. his minds made up. “so ‘fuck you still staring at me for? take those shorts off… n’roll over. not dealin’ with the guilt of the shit you’re about to make me do in my sisters bed.”
⊹ . ⁺ 🍭🤍⋅˚₊𐙚
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imnotaacat · 2 months
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I Can Not Do It Without You.
husband!Anthony x fem reader wife.
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— Summary: You have been married to Anthony for a year, and you are about to give birth to your first baby. However, after overhearing a conversation between his younger brothers, Benedict and Colin, it makes you doubt whether your marriage is prosperous and honest, which leads to an early and complicated birth.
— Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, fluff at the end, no use of Y/n, mentions of deception. (I think that's all)
A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)
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“It’s funny that she thinks Anthony is still in love with her.” You heard Colin’s voice behind the door, followed by Benedict’s laughter.
That was enough for you to ask the footman accompanying you to prepare the carriage, you would return home. Since a few weeks ago you suspected that Anthony was cheating on you, the last few weeks he began to go out more often with his younger brothers, and of course, there was nothing wrong with it, but it happened every night and he always returned at dawn. And you, who were about to give birth, only wanted to feel protected, cared for by him, but you felt the opposite, he simply left, leaving you completely alone.
“My dear, won’t you stay for dinner with us?” Someone asked behind you, it was your mother-in-law, Violet. “Oh, I really appreciate it, you must excuse me, but I would like to have dinner with my husband.” Violet smiled. “Don’t worry dear, it’s okay, give him my regards.” You nodded and walked to your carriage, the footman helped you get in.
Once home, you entered and began to climb the stairs, as fast as your belly allowed you.
“Honey, you're back, I was waiting for you for dinner.” Your beloved husband's voice said with his beautiful smile at the bottom of the stairs. Something inside your chest stirred. You smiled.
“Oh dear husband, I apologize, but I've already had dinner with your mother and brothers.” You said, he smiled, he loved the way you got along with his family, he couldn't have chosen a better wife. I apologize for not accompanying you, but I feel very tired. — He nodded again.
“Don't worry, rest, I'll be with you in a few moments.” You nodded. You finished climbing the stairs that led to the room you shared, you asked your maid for some help to undress. Once you were ready, you got into the sheets of your bed, but you couldn't even close your eyes. Thirty minutes later you heard your husband's footsteps coming up the stairs, you settled down with your back to the door and closed your eyes pretending to be asleep. You listened to his footsteps and movements around the room, a few minutes later you felt the mattress sink and then the warmth of his body, he placed his hand on your belly, kissed your temple, and got ready to sleep.
About an hour later, he was finally fast asleep, you got out of your bed and left the room making as little noise as possible, you went down the stairs and headed towards his study, you placed the candle you were carrying on his desk and you got ready to look for something, something that would help you, something that would give you a clue about something. And as the saying goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.” In one of the drawers of his desk, you found several newspapers. As you skimmed through them you noticed something. They all had an ad for an opera concert and all of them had one name repeated: “Sienna Rosso.” You didn’t know whether to be happy for having found what you were looking for or to cry for what you had found. The second to last ad was dated two days ago, the last time Anthony had gone out, and the last ad was dated two days from now. You put everything back the way it was, closed the door to the study, and headed back to your room. To your relief, Anthony was still fast asleep.
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“Good morning,” you said, announcing your entrance to the dining room. Anthony smiled. “Good morning, dear. Did you rest?” He asked. You nodded, at that moment the maids came in with their breakfast trays, so they began to eat, leaving a comfortable silence in between. — You know… yesterday I saw an announcement, about an opera concert— You spoke breaking the silence and lifting your face to look at him, he already did. — I heard that the girl is very good, I think her name is Sienna… yes Sienna Rosso— Anthony coughed. — And well, I would like to find out for myself, and why not with my dear husband? The concert is in two days, so, could we go? — You asked with a nice smile, Anthony quickly nodded.
“Sure, why not, I have a little work, but I will do it in these two days, so we can go out.” You nodded with a smile.
During those days when the long-awaited night arrived, Anthony, no matter how much he wanted to concentrate on his work, couldn't do it. The only thing he had in mind was your request, but rather, the way you asked for it, your look when you asked him, during their first year of marriage, he had noticed that whenever you asked him for something there was a special sparkle in your eyes, however, that morning he couldn't see it, instead there was something else, your gaze had something dark in it.
When the agreed time and day arrived, you went down the stairs while he went up, you were wearing a Bridgerton blue dress, white gloves, and a pretty pearl necklace, he praised how pretty you looked, he asked you for a moment so he could get ready and go out with you.
Once at the theater, you asked to sit up front, and he accepted without arguing anything, minutes later the concert started, and boy was the girl good, she was wonderful, out of the corner of your eye you noticed that throughout the act Anthony looked at the stage a couple of times, most of the time he saw you, the floor and the ceiling, and of course, anyone would say it was romantic, but you knew it was guilt.
Once the concert was over you told Anthony that you needed to go to the bathroom, he nodded and joined another group of men who greeted him happily.
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“Miss Sienna, someone is waiting for you in your dressing room.” A voice said behind the girl as she walked off the stage, she smiled and thanked him with a nod. Finally, Anthony had returned. However, he froze when he saw a female silhouette in his dressing room, you were with your back to her. You were looking at each of her outfits with a smile, and from time to time you touched the fabrics with your hands what caught her attention the most was your belly, you could give birth at any moment, even now.
“Were you hoping to see the Viscount?” You asked still with your back turned, you only heard a low “Excuse me?” before turning to look at her. — I asked if you were hoping to see Anthony. — You asked again, Sienna was surprised that you called him by his name, but it was logical, you were his wife. Seeing that she had no answer you sighed and spoke again. — I know he has come to see you frequently, so I wanted to meet the woman who fucks my husband. — You said with a forced smile on your lips. Sienna smiled back, she didn't expect the Viscount's wife to be like this, she imagined a silly girl, but no, you were different, you were direct. At that moment something occurred to her, something that would make Anthony come back to her again.
“Yeah well, Anthony comes here often, he even comes with his brothers.” He said with a smile. You just nodded, but anger was growing inside you, how could she call him by his first name? — You know, it's nice that he comes to see me at my concerts but to attend with his wife... it's very bold.” She said with a smile.
“Sienna... I was the one who suggested he come, he came simply because I asked him to accompany me, if he had wanted... or rather... been able to, he would have stayed in his studio.” You saw how Sienna's face fell.
Seriously Anthony had stopped loving her? Just like that? After you two got married he paid you one last visit, where he made it clear that you would never have another meeting. In exchange for various favors, she was able to arrange for several Lords and Dukes to meet Anthony at the theater or places where she would perform. She knew that once they were alone, Anthony would come back to her. Her surprise came when he didn't even look at her, or even notice her presence, and she was accompanied by her brothers. Every time she passed by his place, she heard how wonderful his wife was and how much he was in love with her.
“Listen to me-“ She began to speak, calling you by your name, but you interrupted her.
“For you, I am Lady Bridgerton,” you said. Anthony heard it and went to the place where your voice came from. He noticed that you hadn't returned from the bathroom, so he decided to make sure everything was okay. He followed your voice, down that path that he had walked so many times a few years ago. — You can fuck Anthony as many times as you want, it's fine, but listen to me, I'll be the only one that Anthony will present as his wife, I'll be the one who will have his children, his heir, my children will carry his blood, my children and I will be the ones who will wait for him at night to have dinner, I'll be the one who will see him walking arm in arm through the parks, while you... you will simply meet him at night, when everyone is already home, you will stay in the dark, hiding, making sure that no one can see you. — Sienna was definitely speechless, after hearing everything you had said, you were right, he would never leave you for her. Anthony, who had heard everything while walking towards you, was proud to hear what you had said, you didn't even raise your voice, much less attack her to leave her speechless.
“Whatever you say Anthony loves me-“ Once again she was interrupted, this time by Anthony's voice.
“For you, I am Lord Bridgerton, I will never allow you to call me by my name again, our relationship ended a long time ago, Miss Rosso, and that day I made it very clear to you that I would never return to you again.” You smiled at the look on Sienna’s face in front of your husband’s back. — If you will excuse us, the Viscountess and I must retire, good night, Miss Rosso. — He said, giving you his arm so that you could walk with him, and said goodbye to the friends who were still there.
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Anthony helped you get into the carriage and once inside silence reigned between you, you were sitting face to face, so Anthony could see how your eyes began to get brighter and tears began to appear in your eyes. He felt guilty, guilty because he was the reason for those tears.
“Honey I-” He started to speak but you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear anything Anthony.” He nodded. Once at home he helped you get out of the carriage and both of you climbed the stairs that led to his room.
“Marie, please tidy my room, I’ll be staying there tonight.” Your maid nodded and took from both of your rooms the things she would use at that moment and the next day to get ready, you heard a sigh from Anthony, and then his footsteps moving away towards the master bedroom, so you did the same, but in the opposite direction, before reaching your room you felt a pang in your lower belly, you grabbed the wall, Anthony turned and walked towards you when he heard your moan. “I’m fine” You told him when you heard his strides towards you, he stopped and nodded, but as far as he could see after you closed the door, he noticed that you were holding on to the wall as you walked.
Anthony wanted to talk to you, he wanted to tell you that it was all a misunderstanding, his affair with Sienna had ended a long time ago, even long before the two of you got married. Unable to fall asleep, he went down to his study and made himself a drink, then sat down at his desk hoping to be able to concentrate a little and even distract himself from what was going on with his work. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep at his desk.
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“Mr. Bridgerton! Mr. Bridgerton please wake up.” When he opened his eyes he felt disoriented. “Mr. Bridgerton” The woman made a small bow. “Lady Bridgerton has gone into labor, but she is in very bad shape,” the maid said just as she heard a scream coming from the upper part of the house. — We have already sent for your mother, the Duke, and the Duchess, the young lady asked for it, and the doctor and the midwife are already with the lady. — The girl spoke as she followed Anthony up the stairs, another scream came from your room, with long strides he arrived at your room, and he saw you there, screaming and writhing in pain, and then he was nineteen again, panic began to bloom in him.
“Lord Bridgerton, the baby is not in position, I need to know what to do, save the baby, or save your wife.” Another scream from you was heard. “I told you to save my son.” You screamed with difficulty. — The decision must be made by the lord. — The doctor spoke. And one more scream was heard.
“Save them both,” Anthony spoke. “Sir, we will try, but-” Anthony interrupted him. “I told you to save my wife and my son,” Anthony screamed. — Yes sir, we will do our best.” And once again the doctor entered your room. Tears began to sting his eyes, just at that moment the doors of his house opened, it was Simon, his mother, and his brothers.
“Simon, Colin, and Benedict stay with Anthony, Daphne comes with me” Violet said as everyone went up the stairs. “Everything will be okay dear, I promise,” Violet said before entering your room with Daphne. The screams were getting louder, and his brothers didn't know what to do, or how to comfort him, Simon was already a father, of course, but none of Daphne's births had been like that, they didn't know what to do.
“Anthony, everything will be okay, your wife is a strong woman” Benedict spoke. There was silence. “It's my fault.” Anthony spoke. “She found out about Sienna, she noticed that I was leaving at night and she thinks I've cheated on her.”
“But it’s not like that, you ended your relationship with that woman, we have been with you so that you could avoid this.” Colin spoke, and Anthony nodded. “And I thank you, I should have told you what was going on” Anthony said, his head down. “I don’t know how you found out, but two days ago she asked me to go to the concert tonight, she had an argument with Sienna, and then when we got back home, she asked to have her bedroom fixed, she complained of pain, I should have insisted that she sleep in our bedroom, I should have stayed awake to take care of her.” Anthony spoke. Your screams still hadn’t stopped, they could hear the voices of the midwife, her mother, and Daphne asking you to push.
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Anthony looked at his watch, it was almost five in the morning, and the fear he felt was from another world, he didn’t know what was going on in there, he only heard your screams. The four men were desperate, they knew there were only two options. Finally, the cry of a baby, their baby was heard behind the door, the four men looked at each other, then looked at the door, Daphne came out with the baby in her arms wrapped in a blanket. “He’s a cute little boy” she said with a smile, putting the baby in Anthony’s arms, he smiled. “Daphne, how is she?” Simon asked, Daphne just lowered her head.
“Daphne, how is my wife?” Anthony asked. “She is not well Anthony, she lost a lot of blood, she has a high fever, and the doctor does not know if she will survive.” Anthony sighed, he was happy for the birth of his son of course, but at the same time the love of his life was between life and death, he could not do it without her.
“My lady, stay with me, do not close your eyes.” the voices of the maids were heard, alarming everyone who was outside. “She cannot die” Anthony said finally letting the tears come out, hugging his little son.
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It had been a week since you had given birth, and the fever and bleeding had stopped, however, you were still weak, you still had no strength, and you spent your time in your room. Violet and Daphne had asked to stay home with you, to help you and Anthony.
“Anthony dear,” Violet spoke entering her son's bedroom, Anthony was playing with Edmund, they had agreed to name him in honor of his father if they had a boy. “You should talk to your wife, I don't know what's wrong Anthony, but it's like she's rejecting her son.” Violet paused. — The only moment she is with him is when she breastfeeds her son, that's not good, you're doing an excellent job as a father, but this baby also needs his mother. — Anthony nodded, left his little one in the bassinet next to his bed, and called a maid to keep an eye on the baby. Leaving with his mother he went to your room, opened the door, and could see you, after a long time, you were looking out the window with your back to him, you had your hair down, a silk robe, you looked very beautiful.
“Love…” Anthony said. There was a pause, he expected you to say something or at least turn to look at him, but it wasn't like that, you continued looking at the window. “Since we met I noticed your desire to be a mother… But now that we have our son, you… you reject him.” Anthony doubted if he was using the right words, he didn't want to be hard on you, so you lowered your gaze to your lap. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything.” There was a long silence for his liking, or rather, for the moment you were in.
“I don't want him to get used to me.” You spoke and finally turning to look at him, Anthony looked at you confused. “I’m dying Anthony, just look at me.” And yes, you looked a little haggard, you had lost a little weight, but nothing that a little food couldn’t fix. “Besides…” You paused. “I’m scared Anthony, I’m scared of being just like my mother.” You finally burst into tears, Anthony was a little surprised, you had known each other for a little over a year and a half, and he had never seen you cry like this, or rather he had never seen you cry, it was a little difficult for you to show your emotions one hundred percent. Because of how you grew up, your parents never showed any kind of love between them, nor to you or your siblings, you and your siblings were raised for society, with no laughter or exaggerated emotions, just enough, if you wanted to cry or express your emotions you had to be completely alone, no one could see you like this or they would call you exaggerated. Anthony took a few steps to be closer to you and wrapped you in his arms. “You’re not dying, sweetheart… you’re not a bad mother either… Do you think I don’t notice how you play with Gregory or Hyacinth? Or how do you interact with Augui?” Anthony spoke, you smiled remembering how good it felt to play or spend time with them. Anthony pulled you away from his chest so you could look into each other’s eyes, he cupped your face in his hands, and with his thumbs, he wiped your tears away. “You’re nothing like your mother… but if you keep acting that way… rejecting your son, you’ll be just like her.” You nodded and hugged him again, he also hugged you back, and kissed the top of your head, both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry.” You said, separating from the hug. — Not just for this… also for what happened a few days ago at the theater, I shouldn’t have acted that way. — Anthony shook his head.
“The one who should apologize is me.” He said take your hands. — I wasn’t honest with you, I should have told you what was going on because I went out every night… somehow that woman made all the business be handled in those places, I asked Colin and Benedict to accompany me, just to avoid this, but I should have told you too. — You noticed the sincerity in his words and the regret in his eyes.
“You should have told me, of course, but I acted recklessly, I should have talked to you before, can you imagine the scandal it would have been if someone else had heard? Can you imagine if it had been Wistledown?” Anthony laughed.
“But I must admit, you acted better than I would have acted if I had been in your place.” They both laughed. “But you know… I’m a little curious to know how you knew?” Anthony asked.
“Well… I heard your brothers saying it was funny that she thought you were still in love… and well, you know what happened.” Anthony laughed. “Instead of helping me, they sink my head into the mud.” There was a silence between you. “It’s nice to be with you again,” Anthony said. — But I think you should meet someone… Give me a moment. — Anthony left the room, and a few seconds later he entered the room again, but this time with the baby in his arms, you smiled when you saw him, the tender image of your husband with your baby would be an image that would stay in your mind and heart for a lifetime.
Anthony walked over to you, pulling you close and helping you carry your baby. You finally allowed yourself to see your baby's face, you knew it was too soon to say it, but he was a lot like Anthony.
“Hey baby, you look so cute today.” You said the little baby let out a small laugh. Both you and Anthony smiled at it. You definitely scolded yourself for depriving yourself of this thing you had always wanted.
Anthony guided you to the bed so you could get some rest, despite everything, he knew you were still a little weak, Anthony placed himself right next to you so you could lean on him, and you stayed like that, he held you close, while you held your little baby close.
“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” — Anthony said while smiling at you.
You two definitely, unexpectedly changed each other's lives. You both knew that nothing and no one could separate you or hurt you after this day.
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I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗
917 notes · View notes
subwaysurf45 · 1 year
Text
She’s Not Mad
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Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience! 
Masterlist
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A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk. 
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had. 
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.” 
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?” 
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.” 
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word. 
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer. 
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late. 
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question. 
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees. 
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you. 
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from. 
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table. 
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table. 
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times. 
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?” 
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.” 
“You’re calling me a liar?” 
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.” 
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions. 
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child. 
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.” 
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.” 
And he did. 
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place. 
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked. 
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house. 
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap. 
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again. 
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often. 
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important. 
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.” 
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle. 
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone. 
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door. 
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.” 
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward. 
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered. 
He walked you back home and cheered you up. 
Just like he said he would. 
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse. 
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless. 
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong. 
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you. 
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view. 
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you. 
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants. 
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms. 
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you. 
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more. 
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game. 
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment. 
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment. 
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now. 
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again. 
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response. 
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.” 
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip. 
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.” 
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded. 
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder. 
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall. 
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.” 
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up. 
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.” 
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?” 
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs. 
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you. 
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to. 
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you. 
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder. 
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table. 
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots. 
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why. 
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass. 
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom. 
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.” 
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend? 
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.” 
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup. 
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing. 
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night. 
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying. 
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him. 
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids. 
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back. 
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb. 
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you. 
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep. 
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. 
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it. 
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him. 
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours. 
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted. 
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly. 
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage. 
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down. 
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look. 
And my god was it worth it. 
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear. 
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed. 
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around. 
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him. 
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more. 
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.  
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat. 
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers. 
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully. 
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from. 
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV. 
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game. 
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck. 
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.” 
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?” 
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.” 
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand. 
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.” 
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this. 
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.” 
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset. 
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you  it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.” 
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?” 
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well. 
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him. 
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it. 
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you. 
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time. 
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it. 
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him. 
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day. 
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser? 
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either. 
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place. 
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later. 
You: sure, it ends in an hour. 
Bucky: I’ll be there. 
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there. 
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out. 
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible. 
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?” 
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?” 
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?” 
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?” 
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense. 
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.” 
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt. 
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?” 
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?” 
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?” 
“Then what were those condoms for?” 
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light. 
“Oh,” was all you could say. 
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.” 
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.” 
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?” 
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.” 
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands. 
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you. 
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong. 
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back. 
“I’m all good,” he shrugged. 
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him. 
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how. 
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world. 
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed. 
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door. 
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.” 
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say. 
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.” 
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before. 
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?” 
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken. 
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up. 
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it. 
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?” 
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes. 
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?” 
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest. 
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.” 
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry. 
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you. 
“You’re very safe,” you whispered. 
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you. 
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.” 
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going. 
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.” 
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.” 
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.” 
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.” 
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension. 
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair. 
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep. 
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close. 
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done. 
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you. 
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing. 
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered. 
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?” 
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen. 
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it: 
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
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mrrharper · 3 months
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Elevator Malfunction
Greg was walking along the corridor. He had just finished his last lecture for the day and was ready to leave the campus and go get something to eat. He got to the staircase but decided he didn't feel like walking down all these stairs, so he pushed a button for an elevator instead.
As he waited for it to come to the floor he was currently on someone walked up to the elevator and stood next to him, also wanting to give their legs a break. Greg looked to his left, then quickly moved his head back. That was Brad Petrović, one of the stars of their university's soccer team.
One look at the jock was enough for Greg to feel his cock hardening in his pants. He felt he was turning red and he hoped no one would see him getting a boner. From his perspective Brad was a perfect male specimen, and exactly Greg's type - clearly muscular but not bulky, tall with a masculine jaw, short hair, thick thighs, that permament arrogant smirk on his face, a constant aura of sweat and musk. Greg, a closeted gay man and an obvious nerd, knew that the chances of getting a guy like that in bed with him were very slim, but he could always dream.
He took another quick glance at Brad. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, which allowed Greg to just barely see his hairy armpit and chest. He was now sure his boner would not disappear for as long as he was in close proximity with the soccer bro.
The elevator had finally arrived and the doors opened. Brad went in first, followed by Greg who constantly made sure there was distance between them. And he made sure his shirt was hiding the bulge in his pants. The jock then pushed the "ground floor" button and the eevator began slowly moving down.
Greg turned his eyes for a split second and saw a few beads of sweat run down Brad's arm. Fuck, he was hot. He wanted to look again, but the more rational side of his brain prevented him from doing that, aftaid the athlete would notice, call him a perv or maybe beat him up.
They were around halfway down when the elevator wobbled. Both guys looked around but saw nothing that would suggest something was wrong. But then the lights flickered and the elevator suddenly stopped. Greg, who wasn't expecting this sudden change in velocity didn't have the time to grab anything, so he lost balance, fell down on the ground, bumping into Brad and then crashing his head against the floor, loosing consciousness for a moment.
A few moments later Greg opened his eyes and was instantly blinded by the light shining from the elevator's ceiling. He blinked a few times and put his hand over his face, trying to shield his sensitive eyeballs from the bright lamp above him. He slowly dragged his body off the floor and sat down, already feeling pain radiating from the back of his head.
He turned his head and-- he blinked quickly a few times, because he couldn't believe what he saw. He saw himself, his very own body standing up and looking towards him. Greg was sure he also saw confision on his-- his body's face, but it was quickly replaced by concern.
"Brad, you're alright? Oh my god, I'm so sorry I bumped into you. Are you okay?"
Brad? He wasn't Brad, he was-- Holy fuck! Greg looked down and saw the jersey Brad was wearing on his torso. He almost jumped and turned towards the mirror on the back wall of the elevator. A confused Brad Petrović looked back at him.
"Jesus Christ, what happened?" he asked aloud, then flincked, surprised by the deep voice that he was apparently in control of.
"I... I don't know" He heard his own voice behind him and turned around to see... No, he was certain he was looking at himself. This must have been a result of a concussion. He's never experienced soemthing like this but this was the most logical explanation. Yes, this would end in a moment. "I think the elevator stopped suddenly for some reason and I lost balance, and then... then I fell onto you, and then we both... Are you sure you're okay?"
"No" Greg muttered under his breath.
"Oh god, you have a concussion? Crap, we need a doctor to have a look at you" his body stood next to him. This was a reasonable suggestion. But Greg was not really thinking straight right now.
"No!" he barked a little louder than he wanted to. "I... I need to get home."
"Oh, uhm... of course, of course" The other Greg quickly took a few steps back. Then they heard a ding and the doors of the elevator slowly opened. Greg watched as his very own body walked out of the elevator and was gone in justa few seconds. The real Greg, now seemingly occupying the body of a soccer jock bro, stood still, failing to comprehend what was happening around him.
The doors started to close and Greg quickly jumped out of the elevator. He took a few deep breaths and thought about what should he do. He had now convinced himself that all this was the result of him injuring his head during the fall and it would all go away in a few minutes. Maybe hours. Hopefully not days. Oh god, he wanted to go home so bad. He quickly left the building and made his way to his dorm on the other side of the campus.
As he walked he realized his dick had been hard this entire time. And since he seemed to be wearing gym shorts it was way more visible. Greg looked around, hoping there weren't many people who would witness him with a hard on in public. Thankfully the area was not very busy.
He got to his room, unlocked the door and-- wait a minute! This wasn't his room. He took a step inside and instead of his small and tidy space, he saw a fairly large room that almost certainly belonged to a jock. A bunch of posters of various athletes hanging on walls, dirty gym gear laying everywhere, the table covered with empty beers, boxes of protein powder, a few condoms even, and of course the smell of sweat. This was Brad's dorm room. How did he get here?
A thought appeared in his head. It was muscle memory that took him here. Brad's muscle memory. This was not a concussion. Greg's mind was currently occupying Brad Petrović's body. He closed the door behind him and looked around, then grabbed his head with both hands. This couldn't be happening, this was just a dream!
He slowly went further into the room, then stopped as he felt he stepped onto something. Greg looked down and picked up a pair of boxers, with clearly visible sweat and cum stains. The smell was intoxicating. He suddenly thought about smelling, maybe even licking the underwear that was clearly used by the real Brad fairly recently. His cock reacted positively to this possibility, but Greg wouldn't allow himself to use his terrible position like this.
Although... would it be that wrong? It would get rid of his boner, allowing him to think more clearly. No one would have to know, he was all alone in this room.
Greg sat down on the couch standing in the middle of the room and took off his shorts and briefs in one, brief motion, freeing his hard cock. He then put the dirty boxers up to his nose and breathed in loudly. It felt like getting high, the manly smells filling up his nostrils. His hand gravitated to his dick and started stroking it as he imagined worshiping this body, all of its hard muscles, the armpits, the thighs, the crotch.
He sped up his hand movements and moand loudly, still pushing the underwear against his face. He started licking the material and another wave of lust came over him. He was overwhelmed with what he was feeling, his brain overridden by his horny instincts. He thought he could taste the cum and it got him even more excited, if it was even possible.
As he continued stroking though, something happened. The images he had in his head of Brad's flexed arms that revealed two sweaty armpits turned into a topless woman waving her boobs in front of him.
This would be enough to raise concerns, but for the moment Greg was fully controlled by the horny part of his brain, which didn't allow any critical thoughts to arise. He just continued jerking off, not realizing that his dick got even harder the moment the images in his head changed.
It didn't stop there. Next came a memory (wait, a memory?) of Brad eating pussy of some random chick. Greg continued stroking and licking the cum off of the boxers while his head became filled with images of Brad Petrović having sex with a bunch of women. No alarms went off in his head, he seemed to get more horny the longer he played with his dick.
A certain scene got stuck in Greg's head - Brad fucking a blond haired girl, letting his primal instincts control him. As he leaned in to touch one of the girl's breasts Greg finally got over the edge. He came harder than ever before, his jizz landing on his hand, jersey and the couch.
Brad cleaned his hand with the boxers he was holding for some reason, then threw then on the floor and immediately forgot about them. Instead he thought about that blond chick - Beth. Fuck, he needed to find her again. He heard his phone ringing. Oh fuck, he was supposed to meet with Garrett and Trevor at the gym! He quickly stood up and ran out of his room with only his phone in his hand. It was time to get jacked, then find some pussy later. Shit, Brad loved his jock life.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 months
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Warnings: Drunk Daryl lol, Soft!Daryl is probably also a warning cuz ugggghhh
"Alright, cowboy. Watch the steps, okay?" Your arm was slung behind Daryl's back as you led him toward the front door.
"I ain't a damn cowboy. I ride a bike, not horses. Fuckin' jumpy-ass dinosaurs. No thanks..." he drawled, drawing a laugh from you.
"I didn't mean it literally," you retorted. "Okay, straight downstairs, mister. Can you manage?"
You'd stopped at the top of the stairs down to the basement and Daryl wavered a little on his feet, frozen as he tried to regain his balance.
"Okay—just to be clear, I can't catch you if you fall. If you trip, you're going all the way down to the bottom," you said, laughing. "You're bigger than me..."
"I got it," he retorted, murmuring it just loud enough for you to hear. He reached out and gripped the railing and you let out a breath of relief as he seemed to regain his balance and go down steadily. You trailed behind him.
Daryl made his way over to his bed and sank down on the edge of it, looking back at you as you moved into him. He suddenly froze and gave you a strange look.
You froze too, smiling at the expression on his face. "What?"
"Whaddaya doin'?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
You laughed again and Daryl rubbed at his chest where it fluttered and warmed at the sound. "I'm gonna help you with your boots," you said, bending to unlace them.
"I can do it," he said stubbornly, attempting to toe them off, but you'd already tugged them free in an instant.
"I know you can," you said. "Now just lay down, drunky, and get some sleep." You went to his pack and dug his canteen out, bringing it over and setting it by his bedside. You felt his eyes on you and looked down at him where he'd settled into his pillow, one arm slung up over his head and his features soft. "Hmm?" you hummed, your heart suddenly pounding.
"You're so, so, so pretty," he drawled sleepily. "I ain't ever told ya that before, but I think it every second that I see ya."
You were so taken aback you froze completely for a long moment. "I—You're—" you sighed. "You're so drunk, Daryl," you finally laughed nervously, adjusting the sheet over him.
"I know. But that dun mean it ain't true."
Prompt: "You're so, so, so pretty."
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