#i'm bound to get their heights wrong

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am VI

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: You come home after a meeting

"Sorry," You laughed," This must be a pretty elaborate joke."

But no one at the table was laughing and your own petered off uncertainly.

"No, I'm serious. Who's pulling this prank?"

You glanced between your father and your brother but neither of them had a hint of a smile on their faces.

"I understand that this might come as a surprise-"

"A surprise?! You're not telling me you're actually serious."

"Y/n," Your brother said," I know that this isn't what you expected-"

You stood up, hands slamming onto the table. "No! You can't be serious. I wasn't even born second in line. Are you crazy? This is breaking, like, years of tradition!"

"As the reigning king, I'm well within my rights to-"

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should!"

"It's already been decided," Your father cut in, holding your gaze unwaveringly," William does not wish to be King and does not wish to for his children to feel the same pressure. Harry has already made his own thoughts on the moment known. It falls-"

"If you say it falls to me, I swear to god-"

"As my only other child, you are next in line."

"Do you understand how crazy you sound? Skipping over two perfectly good lines of succession to instate your youngest child as heir?! What will the media-"

"The media has no say in family decisions," Your father said," Don't think of them. Is it truly this bad for you? That you cannot see a world where you sit on the throne?"

You pursed your lips, glancing away from your father to your brother. "This is truly what you want? William, you and Kate are beloved-"

"I want what's best for my family, I hope you can understand that."

You narrowed your eyes at your brother, poking your finger into his chest. "You so owe me for this," You told him," Big time."

He grinned. "So that's a yes?"

You rolled your eyes. "Well," You said," I always did look better with a crown than the rest of you."

It was only on the flight home that you'd realised just what you agreed to, though to use the word agree would probably be wrong. Your agreement didn't matter much at all actually. With or without your consent, it would have happened.

Something that you realised with startling clarity the moment you stepped through the front door.

The decision had been made.

Now all you needed to do was tell your wife.

"Well, hello, Rufus," You cooed as your nine week old Corgi came bounding towards you," Were you good for your Mami? I think you were!"

"The girls are training were all spoiling him," Aitana said, hip leaning against the wall and arms crossed over her chest," You're home late."

"Meeting ran over," You replied, looping your arms around Aitana's waist to pull her closer," I missed you though."

"I know," She said," You only sent me twenty-thousand messages telling me."

"Don't be stupid," You said," It was at least thirty-thousand."

Aitana rolled her eyes, dropping a soft kiss to your lips.

"Well your son kept me very good company."

"Our son," You corrected, leaning down to pick up the happy Rufus so he could join in," Like I knew he would. He's a good boy."

"Well that good boy took over your side of the bed so you might not be getting it back."

"That's okay. There's a perfectly nice bed at Buckingham Palace waiting for us."

"A bed in which Rufus will sleep in," Aitana insisted and you rolled your eyes, lifting up your wiggling puppy to eye height.

"You win this round, Mr, but don't go around thinking that you're stealing my wife and my side of the bed."

Rufus licked your nose.

"Yeah, I love you too."

"Me or the dog?"

"Both?"

"Good."

It isn't until early evening that you get the chance to tell Aitana about your meeting, when you're curled up in bed together and her head is pillowed on your chest.

"William has withdrawn himself and his children from the line of succession," You said, voice low like it was something secret you were telling her," And Harry's already done the same."

"I don't understand," Aitana said, drawing a soft pattern on your stomach with her finger," What does that mean for us?"

Your muscles tensed under her touch and you had to remind yourself to breath.

"Well, with my brothers and their lines are out," You replied," I mean, technically, it falls-"

"To you," Aitana said," You're next in line."

"I can always abdicate," You explained," I won't take the crown if you don't want me to. I can always-"

You didn't get to finish your thought because Aitana surged forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

"I think," She said," You would look very good in a crown."

"Yeah? I mean, you'd get a crown too."

"Shh," Aitana said, grinning as kisses were given lower and lower," Let's focus on you first."

[chaotic-toasters]

Up the Stairs?

This actually happened to me one time LMAO

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

------------------------

"I'm not climbing those creepy old stairs!" Ella protested. "Y/N and Hannah should go. They're the youngest and the most fit, so if there's a serial killer hiding in the stairwell, they can outrun them. I'm taking the lift, I don't care."

You rolled your eyes. "C'mon, Hannah. Let's go."

"Tooney's such a baby," the Keeper laughed, matching your stride as you approached the hotel's staircase. "I swear, she believes the dumbest things."

You snickered. "Right?"

Hannah started climbing the steps, but you began bounding up them three at a time instead of your usual two. The girls always said you were childish, and this was one of the reasons why.

Because you weren't used to the extra height, you tripped, moving your hand out in front of you to break your fall. However, the sudden impact to your hand sent a sharp pain shooting down from your wrist to your forearm.

"Oh my days," Hannah grimaced, forcing you to sit as she gingerly picked up your hand. "How much does it hurt?"

You squinted at her. "On a scale of what?"

"One to 'take me to A&E, I'm dying'."

"Meh."

She scoffed. "Yeah, right. That crack echoed 'round the stairwell."

"That's just because the acoustics in here are really good," you dismissed her concern. "Seriously, Hannah. I'm fine."

"I'm still telling everybody," she warned. "We need to keep an eye on it. You might not have any symptoms now, but that can change in a few days."

You groaned. "Fiiine."

-----------------

"Are you hurt?! What happened?" Rachel yelled in your ear, startling you. "How did you break your hand?! Are you alright?"

You scooted away from her and closer to Alessia. "I'm fine, Rach. And I didn't break it, it's just a scratch."

"Scratch? More like a loud arse crack," Hannah shook her head. "I think we should take you to the medics. Even if you aren't feeling too much pain and it's not broken, you might have sprained it or something."

You pouted, turning to your more empathetic teammates pleadingly. "Lessi, Niamhy, tell them I don't need to! I'm literally fine."

"Sorry, kiddo," Alessia smiled apologetically. "I'm with Rach and Hannah on this one. If it goes untreated, it'll heal wrong and you'll have chronic pain."

Niamh nodded her agreement, a sheepish look on her face.

You turned to your last hope. "Hempo?"

The forward picked up your hand, turning it over and observing it. "Nah, you're fine."

"She doesn't even have full range of motion!" Hannah exclaimed. "Her wrist can't move in a circle smoothly."

"I'll go to the medics if it gets worse," you grumbled. "Now let me be."

An awkward grin spread across Rachel's face, causing you to frown. "What?"

She looked down, unable to remain neutral. "I- uh... I texted Leah."

As if on cue, the door flew open, revealing a very worried Captain England. "Y/N! What the hell did you do?"

You gasped, glaring at your traitorous teammate. "You snitch!"

"Get up, we're going to the medics," Leah pulled you up by your non-injured hand. "Come on, let's go."

You tried to remain still. "Leah-"

"We're going," Leah grunted, throwing you over her shoulder despite your protests. "You're not getting out of this."

You stared glumly at the floor, ignoring the giggles of your teammates.

"I need a medic for this one," Leah declared as she entered the room, setting you down on a chair. "She fell down the stairs."

Sarina's head whipped towards you. "What?!"

You looked at Leah indignantly. "No, I fell up the stairs. Get it right."

Leah threw up her hands in exasperation. "How do you fall up the stairs?"

"I was going up and I tripped," you answered, frowning when one of England's medics held up your arm and hand. "I fell onto the step above me."

Sarina sighed, rubbing her temples. "Did she fracture it or anything?"

The medic shook his head. "Likely a mild sprain, especially if she can still somewhat move it. We'll give her a wrist brace. I'm sure you know how that works, Y/N."

You gave Leah the stink-eye. "This is all your fault."

"No, this is all your fault," she corrected, patting you on the shoulder. "You're the one who likes to go up multiple steps at a time."

"Whatever," you stuck out your tongue, taking the brace from the medic. "We all know that this is really all Tooney's fault."

Leah paused. "Yeah, that's true."

[sanguineterrain]

Femjay you say 👀 how about the classic "you're alive?!" confrontation with a sprinkle of pining

sprinkle of pining you say-oh dear! i've dumped the whole bag in! along with a jar of erotic violence! whoopsies...

female!jason todd x afab!reader. violence, angy jay, reader being held down, crying, reunion. remember that girl best friend you had highkey lesbian tension with? yeah.

****

It's her eyes you recognize first, oddly enough, through her cracked helmet. You shouldn't recognize her at all, with how everything about her has changed. Even the way she looks at you is different. You've never seen Jay Todd so ferocious.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" she screams.

It's true, you weren't. You stumbled across your dead best friend by accident, found her hissing and vicious with a shattered helmet and a smoking gun. Four dead men surround her.

"Get out."

All you can do is stare. She's alive. She's back. She's yours.

"Jay..."

Okay, you lied. This wasn't an accident. This was fate that you played a hand in. This was what was bound to happen after Jay got too close, let herself get seen. You've had an itch for months, eyes on your back. You're a civilian now, sure, but you loved a bat once.

She pries off her helmet and your breath hitches. God, she's beautiful.

"What is wrong with you? You could've fuckin' gotten shot."

Your legs start moving. Your arms part. You expect the feel of a soft cape between your fingers, black curls to tickle your chin due to a height difference you never let her forget.

Jay drops her gun, grabs your wrists, and knocks the wind out of you in a graceful takedown. You can't even be mad.

"You're alive," you choke out.

When she was Robin, you had a slim chance of physically overtaking her. Now, double in size and muscle, Jay keeps you pushed to the ground with no chance of getting free. Her hands hold you by your wrists, body hovering close so you can't move much.

Her eyes are wild. A mix of blue and green. More green than you remember. Her irises have swallowed her pupils and her curls are knotted and frizzy. You feel inexplicably hunted.

"How dare you?" she spits. "How fuckin' dare you come here?"

"Jay," you say softly, unable to keep your eyes fixed on one part of her. You're afraid to blink and make her disappear.

"I could've shot you," she says. "You could be dead right now."

"You're a good shot."

You mean it as a compliment. Jay only seems to get angrier.

"I have to be. I'm the only one keeping myself alive," she says. You make a weak noise in your throat.

"I should've looked for you," you say.

She scoffs. "Don't say stupid shit. You're smarter than that."

"I should've," you insist. "I should've found you. I felt you."

"Yeah? Feel how I could tear you apart? It comes so easy now, you have no idea. 'M fuckin' soaked with blood."

You stay silent. Jay's eyes flash. She leans in, breath hot on your ear.

"Are you scared?" she asks like she knows the answer.

But she doesn't.

Your legs part further so she can kneel comfortably. You shake your head.

Jay snarls. "You should be. I've killed people. I'll keep killing."

"It's okay," you say. "You're angry. It's okay to be angry. I don't blame you. No one does."

"Stop talking like that!" she yells, tears in her eyes. "Stop talking like we're friends. We aren't friends. You don't know me!"

"But I do," you say, limp beneath her, like a lamb caught in a wolf's bite. "Jay, I do."

"No, you don't," she snaps. Her voice is mocking, brittle. "You know your fancy publishing job in a big shiny office, away from this shithole, and-and fuckin' Paul from Marketing who brings you banana pancakes from the diner."

Your breath comes out in a careful exhale. "You've been keeping tabs on me. How long have you been back?"

Jay's mouth quivers as she bares her teeth. "I took you to that diner. It was mine first."

"It never stopped being yours," you say quietly.

"You—" Jay growls in frustration. Her hands squeeze your wrists. "This isn't how it's s'posed to go. Hate me, hate me. I'm a monster."

"You're not."

"You're fuckin' deluded," she says, eyes glassy with tears. "Fuckin'—sleep so heavy, like I can't slip in and smother you. No one would know. Make tea in your-your robe, don't even pull the curtains shut. I can see you. Anyone can."

"I missed you, Jay," you say, a heart-shaped lump in your throat.

"And so what?" she asks, tears falling down her cheeks. "So fuckin' what if you missed me? You kept living."

You try to pull your hand free, and to your surprise, you do. Jay lets you slip out of her grip. You use your free hand to hold her scarred cheek, wipe her tears with your thumb.

Jay is perfectly still for several moments. Then she wraps two big hands around your ribs, pulls your shoulders forward like nothing, and rests her cheek on your chest. She shakes into your skin, kneeling between your legs.

You hug her head, smell her new-old smell, and let her curls tickle your chin once again.

[baedreamverse]

hidden love — s.jy

enhypen jake head cannon

warnings: college!au, age gap by two years with Jake, reader attends a different uni from him.

brother's best friend!Jake who first encountered you from a young age in middle school.

brother's best friend!Jake whom you haven't seen in a while ever since your older brother chose to attend a university with Jake three hours away from home.

brother's best friend!Jake greeted you with a bright smile, approaching you with a hug whilst messing up your hair.

"You're still the same height the last time I saw you," he playfully teases.

brother's best friend!Jake whom you have a small crush on since your first year of high school.

brother's best friend!Jake whom you have a bantering relationship with since you're both competitive.

"Nuh-uh, it's out of bounds!"

brother’s best friend!Jake who has a golden retriever vibe, in which you have a tendency to pat his head when he does something cute.

brother’s best friend!Jake who has a great sense of fashion taste, sometimes helping you pick out which clothes to buy when you ask.

brother's best friend!Jake who used to hang out at your house after school back then.

brother's best friend!Jake whom you have daily walks with Layla.

brother's best friend!Jake who’s love language is quality time.

“Want to build Lego’s with me downstairs?”

brother's best friend!Jake is great at playing sports such as soccer, baseball, badminton, and rugby.

"Let's take a break! I'm sweating too much, look-"

brother's best friend!Jake who is academically smart with honors.

brother's best friend!Jake who plays the violin for his school band.

brother's best friend!Jake who used to tutor you on your studies.

brother's best friend!Jake who easily gets scared from the loudest noise, especially when you drag him along to the horror night events, which he doesn’t really mind as long as he’s with you (in this case, he’s either hiding behind you or leaving you behind)

brother's best friend!Jake whom you tried to move on from your one-sided love by going on dates and hanging out more with friends.

brother's best friend!Jake whom you can't avoid at the house when he comes over during university breaks.

"Did I do something wrong?" He grasped onto your wrist, stopping you from your track, "You're acting different than usual."

brother's best friend!Jake who just realized he has feelings for you when he picked you up from your college dinner outing.

brother's best friend!Jake who looks out for you when you're attending parties with him and your brother.

brother’s best friend!Jake who wraps his arms around you from behind, glaring at the guy in front of you who’s been pestering you nonstop at the party.

“Who’s this, love? Is he bothering you?”

brother’s best friend!Jake who lends you his hoodies, loving the way you look in them, which are still in your closet. he'll switch out the hoodies once in a while so his cologne lingers a bit longer when you do wear them.

brother’s best friend!Jake who makes you blush by complimenting you every chance he gets.

"Your smile is so pretty."

"You look beautiful today."

brother’s best friend!Jake who you encountered at the movies with your close friends.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here. What movie did you watch?"

"Let me drive you back home."

"Do you want to eat dinner together?"

brother's best friend!Jake who secretly enjoys having you play with his long hair, of course he won't admit it.

brother's best friend!Jake who pouts when you don't focus your attention on him.

brother's best friend!Jake who loves cooking ramen for you when you come over to his house.

brother's best friend!Jake who becomes awkward seeing you cry, in which he tries to comfort you with hugs.

"I hate seeing you cry.."

"Let's go to that spot you've been wanting to go, my treat."

brother's best friend!Jake who charms you with his smile.

"I know I'm handsome but you might want to close your mouth before a fly goes in."

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on me.”

a/n: hii, i'm back with another short cannon~ as you can tell, this is inspired by the c-drama "hidden love". i totally recommend watching it! im in love with the trope. I hope you enjoyed reading this~ Jake really has that older brothers best friend vibe. do you also get that from him or is it just me? lol btw have you watched ENHYPENs performance at KCON LA '24?? im so happy they added paranormal and fatal trouble into the setlist. ENHA really is the main event there, it felt like their concert. im so glad they had fun performing.

ENGENES if you have the time, pls: -> VOTE for XO on ALLCHART app under 'PRE-VOTE' -> VOTE ENHYPEN on the UPICK app under 'KWDA Boy Group Popularity Award' -> STREAM XO on YT, Stationhead, or Spotify We need more man power in regards to streaming and voting so we can help our boys earn more awards. If you have any questions, just lmk and i'll try my best to guide you. ^^

☆ pls like & reblog ☆

[bobbeshwar]

kenji sato x reader

Sort of fluff | Kenji x sort of mean fem!reader | Love me some Kenji

I saw a TikTok that said if Kenji found out how many fangirls he has he would eat that shit up. Like I feel like he would def flex on the regular about it, he's so conceited. You cannot convince me otherwise…

Anyway, I'm like imagining him with a reader who is a little mean and intimidating and you guys just got into an argument. Y’all need to see the vision, he needs someone that can humble him!!

It's practically the middle of the night, Emi snoozing soundly in her little capsule, your shared home quiet save for the two of you yelling. Your arguing is bound to wake her up soon.

"Out, Kenji." You said firmly, an effort to end the argument. You’re seated at the edge of the bed, legs crossed in your silky pajamas. You nod your head towards the half-open bedroom door with a glare that tells him you’re not looking for a response.

“I’m not the one in the wrong here.” He scoffs, stalking towards you, “If anyone is leaving, its should be you.” He ignores the anxiousness slowly growing in his chest, the slight fear of what you would do or say in response, but if there was one thing that Kenji Sato didn’t do, it was backing down.

You stood up, craning your neck slightly to look up at your partner’s face. Most times, the height difference between you and Kenji comforted you, but now it irritated you to no end. It wasn’t hard to get the reigns on Kenji, you were walking him like a dog ever since you started your relationship, but right now you couldn’t be more pissed off. He was in the wrong goddamnit.

“Are you making me repeat myself, Kenji?” You seethed, feeling slight delight at the way his hardened expression sort of faltered as you peered up at him.

He let out a loud sigh before grumbling and walking away from you to his side of the bed to snatch a pillow, you rolled your eyes at the sound of his little mumbles under his breath.

“Hope you have a good night.” You knew it was rubbing salt in the wound but you couldn’t help it.

Kenji, who was seconds from opening the door and leaving turned to you, “Yeah, I’m gonna have a great night! There are plenty of women online who would be happy to share a bed with me!”

You turn your head so fast it might as well break and fall off, “What did you just say to me?”

Kenji’s eyes widen at the sight of you, “N-Nothing, good night!” He says weakly before shutting the door behind him.

[yesornopolls]

Hey, this is sorta time-sensitive, can I get some opinions?

So my (19M) brother is dating a (17F) girl, they're both in college. Please keep in mind that my brother turned 19 literally last week and she'll turn 18 tomorrow, so by no stretch of anyone's imagination is this actually pedophilia.

However, the height difference is a little ridiculous. He's 6'6" and she's 5'2". My very puritan aunt is wholeheartedly convinced this makes him a "pedophile adjacent". Everyone has told her this in an insane opinion and to keep it to herself, but today at lunch she outright accused my brother of "raping that little toddler girl". As you can imagine, neither my brother nor his girlfriend appreciated this.

There was a brief argument and I said that this was weird, telling my aunt that she was being no different from those people claiming interracial dating is wrong. This made her SO mad, and she went off about how interracial lovers have been oppressed, but tall men dating short women have never been oppressed.

Now, this is true, obviously, but also not my point. After a solid 5-10 minutes of her lecturing me on interracial issues, I got pissy bc me and my brother are mixed and she's just white, so why was she acting like I needed her to tell me what fucking racism is a mostly-white country?

I snapped that she was acting just like her toxic ex-husband, who is rather infamous for yelling at a wheelchair-bound woman for blocking the way, then saying it was ableist to challenge him because he's got anxiety.

This REALLY pissed my aunt off and we were unceremoniously thrown out. After three days, she was apparently still upset, so I messaged her word for word,

"Hey. I'm sorry if what I said about you acting like your ex last week confused you, I didn't mean to imply that you're as abusive as he was."

She was happy at first, but then quickly realised I hadn't actually taken back what I'd said. Almost everyone in my family exc. my brother is urging us to to both take everything back and wipe the slate clean. My girlfriend is telling me that if I give them an inch, they'll take a mile.

So... Should I take back what I said? Please include a results button in case anyone was struggling to understand, I have a bit of a hard time with English.

[vampiriito]

Here comes the sun. (JJ Maybank x reader)

"JJ knew it wasn't right. He knew it from the start. But nothing felt wrong about being with you when you looked at him with those eyes—eyes that seemed to pull him into a world where everything else faded away. Even for a moment. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to let himself get caught up in fleeting moments, quiet confessions and a love that was bound to eat away at everything he had. Even if he didn't have much."

He gritted his teeth, trying to stop him self from yelling. He knew arguing didn't get either of you anywhere, but right now he was fed up, he was annoyed, he wanted answers, something anything."I'm tired of you always giving me these vague ass answers. I'm tired of you just expecting me to accept whatever you give me because you know I'll take it anyway."

(...In which you and JJ blur the line between friendship and something more on a whim, and with the intent to keep things casual. But somewhere along the way things get messy in a way that JJ isn't so sure he is fond of anymore. Especially when he finds himself as the other man. )

warnings; cheating, unprotected sex and uh a lil bit of overstimulation if you squint (p in v), overall a toxic ass relationship (inspired entirely by the whole trilogy album by the weeknd)

If JJ was the king of anything, he was the undisputed monarch of plunging headlong into messy, adrenaline-fueled escapades. Ask anyone even remotely acquainted with the sun-bleached blonde, and they'd tell you exactly that. JJ Maybank lived and breathed for the thrill—the intoxicating rush of adrenaline and the exhilaration of defying every rule laid before him. Boundaries were mere suggestions in his world, lines drawn in the sand only to be crossed without a second thought.

His fingers were a little too quick, a little too light—sticky fingers, they called it. He had a knack for making things disappear, a sleight of hand that was both impressive and infamous. Sneaking off to get high in the dim corners of the school's bathroom became a regular thrill, the weed smoke a temporary escape from the constraints of small-town expectations.

Cliff-jumping from perilous heights, feeling the icy embrace of the water swallow him whole. Surfing during raging hurricanes, the colossal waves towering above like ancient, uncontrollable beasts. Sneaking onto the opulent properties on Figure Eight under the cloak of darkness, stripping down to skinny dip in pools that shimmered like liquid silver under the moonlight. Each act was a defiant laugh in the face of authority, a challenge he was all too eager to accept.

These were more than just reckless antics; they were declarations of freedom. And inevitably, each daring decision earned JJ more than just disapproving glances. The scornful looks from townsfolk, the exasperated sighs of teachers, even the familiar discomfort of the police station's hard benches—all became routine parts of his life. Yet, he reveled in it. The consequences were just another thrill, another story to tell.

Risk was the air he breathed, chaos the rhythm to which his heart beat. His mission was simple: to have a good time—all the time. Consequences be damned. After all, wasn't that what being seventeen was all about? Pushing limits, tasting the forbidden, and dancing on the edge of oblivion before the weight of the world could press down on his shoulders. For JJ, the world wasn't just a playground—it was an endless expanse of possibilities, each more exciting and perilous than the last. And he was determined to seize every moment, no matter the cost. And of course, he wasn't too keen on practicing self-preservation.

Hence, you.

Saying JJ was drunk would be an understatement. It was nearing the end of a kegger thrown down at the Boneyard—a stretch of beach where the locals and tourists alike loved to party under the stars. The bonfire had dwindled to glowing embers, and JJ was definitely more than a few drinks deep, his thoughts muddled and his inhibitions long gone. Stumbling slightly, he pulled out his phone, too intoxicated to suppress the impulse as he dialed your number—a number he hadn't dared to call in weeks. Uncertainty gnawed at him; JJ wasn't quite sure what the two of you were anymore.

Before everything went downhill and your relationship morphed into one of toxic fuck buddies, you had been best friends—childhood companions who knew each other's secrets and dreams. But luck was never on JJ's side, not now nor at any point in his life. And you weren't making it any easier for him, especially since you had a boyfriend—a guy you didn't mind being seen with in public, unlike JJ. Yet behind closed doors, you were still drawn to each other, hooking up secretly whenever you got drunk or had a spat with your so-called boyfriend.

JJ leaned against a weathered piece of driftwood, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as he listened to the ringing on the other end. His heart pounded in syncopated beats, each one echoing the turmoil inside him. The moon cast a silvery glow over the restless ocean, mirroring the confusion in his eyes. The memories of your shared laughter, stolen glances, and whispered confessions flooded his mind. He knew it was reckless, reaching out to you like this, but the alcohol had blurred the lines between right and wrong.

He couldn't help but wonder if you ever thought about him the way he thought about you. To the world, you presented a picture-perfect relationship with your boyfriend, smiling and holding hands where everyone could see. Meanwhile, JJ was the shadow you retreated to when things got tough—a secret solace in moments of weakness. It stung more than he cared to admit, but he couldn't let go. Not yet.

As the phone continued to ring, JJ closed his eyes, a mix of hope and resignation washing over him. Part of him craved your voice, needing to bridge the distance that had grown between you. Another part feared what this call might lead to—a continuation of a cycle that left him feeling emptier each time.

The sounds of the diminishing party faded into the background—the distant laughter, the crackling fire—all overshadowed by the anticipation hanging in the air. JJ took a deep breath, the taste of salt and alcohol lingering on his lips, and waited to see if you'd pick up.

After the voicemail ended, he just sat on the tailgate of his truck, staring down at his phone. He didn't know what to do when he was sober, so getting drunk sure wasn't helping. He couldn't stop thinking about you - what you were doing, if you'd even listen to that stupid voicemail, and if you ever even thought about him anymore.

He groans, tossing his phone onto the dirty tailgate and burying his face in his hands. "God damn it," he mutters to himself.

The insistent ring of your phone shattered the remnants of your sleep. Groaning, you sat up on your elbows, your eyes half-lidded with the fog of early morning as you brought the phone to your face. The harsh brightness of the screen was a rude awakening—three missed calls from JJ glared back at you.

This is great, you thought, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He was probably drunk again. You recalled all too well how your impulsive midnight calls usually ended: getting fucked into the mattress by him, only for you to vanish before the morning light could truly make you real again. It was like a routine that both of you didn't speak about, through the day. As if the sun's warmth could temper the wildness of the night and kept you both sane enough to blissfully ignore the shit show that you both got yourselves into.

Now, with the missed calls and his lingering voicemail echoing in your thoughts, you hesitated before reaching for the phone once more. Yet, drawn by a mix of longing and inevitability, you found yourself dialing him back, even if your fingers trembled with uncertainty.

He’s honestly surprised you called back - he’s not really sure what he expected to happen, but it definitely wasn’t an answered call. He grabs the phone as soon as it starts ringing, answering without even a ‘hello’. He takes a second to get over his initial surprise before he responds.

“I didn’t really think you’d call me back” He says, his speech still a little slurred from being drunk.

"Why are you calling me?" you replied, your tone harsher than you intended. The sound of his voice, and the fact that he sounded like he was plastered made your heart clench a little; but you pushed the feeling down.

He sighs, a small part of him hoping for a more emotional response from you - of course you’d never give him that though. It only ever made it hurt all the more.

“I just-“

He’s not even sure why he called you. It’s a habit at this point to call you during the wee hours of the night, when he’s not thinking straight and he can blame the alcohol for any of the stupid things he says. He doesn’t even really know what to say now, feeling too vulnerable to act like the carefree idiot he normally is.

“I just… missed you, I guess”

And now JJ feels like an idiot. His head is starting to hurt a little, not only from the alcohol but also from trying to express his feelings for once - not that you cared. You never really cared all that much for him anyway.

"That's nice... but you're drunk." you stated, sighing. You didn't mean to come off so rude, but you were half asleep; and with the way your relationship with him was going you were never... emotional with each other. You used to be, but shit happens when you grow up into dumb 17 year olds.

It was bittersweet to think about, that 6 months ago roughly, you were still best friends and that only, no fucking or arguing involved. Every time you'd be with JJ the thought of your boyfriend would haunt you, and you'd end up leaving before sunrise, ending in the same cycle. Having him drunk call you at 3 am or the other way around.

JJ rolled his eyes, though you couldn’t obviously see it. Your words stung a little more than he’d like to admit, though that was normal at this point. There was always just a part of him that hoped you’d sound excited or at least happy to hear from him - and now that you didn’t sound like it, it was almost a cold reminder of what your relationship really was. A dirty, tangled mess.

“So it’s okay when you’re drunk and can’t keep your hands off me, but it’s wrong when I’m the drunk one?” He muttered bitterly,

"Did you call me to make snarky comments?" you bit back, the reminder of your own actions feeling like a bucket of cold water, his words almost waking you up fully.

He chuckled humorlessly, almost scoffing at your words. He knew you weren’t gonna take any of this seriously - hell, he wasn’t even really expecting anything out of this call in the first place.

“No,” He paused, and for a moment he thought about telling you how he really felt and just spilling everything, but it’s not like you’d ever believe him anyway. “I just wanted to talk to you… I’m tired of you just- disappearing all the time when you’re done with me for the night.”

"I'm sorry?" you asked in mock disbelief, although you heard him clearly. You felt guilty if he put it that way, especially since you also had a boyfriend. "And what could we possibly talk about?"

He took a deep breath before sighing again, running a hand through his hair in frustration, tugging at the strands. He knew damn well you weren’t going to talk about anything serious, but he was a little too drunk at this point to think rationally.

“I dunno, our lives? The fact that you’re basically cheating on your boyfriend every time you come over and you won’t even look me in the eye the next day?”

"I don't hear you complaining when i come over. In fact you seem pretty enthusiastic to me." you spat back bitterly. That was one hell of a reality check.

He felt a pang of annoyance go through him. You always seemed to twist things around and avoid the fact that you were doing something wrong.

“Of course I’m enthusiastic-“ He said, scoffing again. “And who’s fault is that? I’m not the one with a boyfriend.”

"As if you'd do it any differently if you had a girlfriend." you scoffed, shaking your head. You knew what you were doing was morally wrong. Hell, sometimes you wanted to walk around with a sticker on your forehead that said 'cheating slut.' But he had no right to point it out when he was just as guilty as you were, given he knew about your boyfriend. "...-and you know i have a boyfriend, but that doesn't seem to stop you from sticking your dick inside me."

He felt another stab to the chest at your crude words, and he hated the fact that you had a point. “Damnit,”

He ran his hand through his hair again, trying to keep his cool. The last thing he wanted right now was some pointless argument, but of course, that’s what ended up happening anyway.

“That’s not the point, okay?” He said, almost sounding desperate to convince you to understand. Of course, you never did.

He sighed, frustrated and tired of going around in circles all the time. How many more times would you do this - how many more times was he going to let you come back just to forget everything the next day and go back to being with your boyfriend as if nothing happened in the first place?

“So are you just gonna ignore that what we’re doing is messed up, or what?” He asked, his tone harsher than before.

"I'm not ignoring anything okay? it's just-.. i can't just remove you from my life. Go ahead and do it; if you're feeling like doing the morally good thing.." you mumbled, your cold façade cracking just a little.

JJ’s heart clenched at your words. He knew you meant it, too - even if your feelings for him didn’t run too deep, there was just something in you that couldn’t just cut him off, either.

“Don’t give me that,” He said, although his voice softened a little at your tone. There was a part of him that just wanted to reach through the phone and pull you into his arms, but he held back - he knew that would only make things more complicated.

"Look, I'm just saying. You don't have to do this.. and yet here we both are.." you mumbled in something that sounded like resignation.

JJ couldn’t do much but sigh again at your words. You knew him too well, it almost frustrated him how you could see through him. The truth was, he didn’t have to do this, but for some reason he always did.

He chuckled darkly, running his hand through his hair yet again. There was a part of him that knew how toxic this relationship was, and yet he never wanted to stop either.

“Yeah, here we are..”

A silence fell between the 2 of you for a moment. It wasn’t an entirely comfortable silence, but it was a little less tense than the conversation before.

After a moment though, JJ decided to speak a question that he always wondered, but never had the courage to ask. “So… how’s your boyfriend?”

"He's.." you started, "-well, not on the island. I dunno.. he's on vacation with his parents right now.." you mumbled almost dismissively, rubbing your hand over your face to ease up the sick feeling and the slight irritation tugging at you.

JJ didn’t respond for a moment, letting the information sink in. Honestly, he was almost surprised your boyfriend was not around for once. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it made him feel a little hopeful.

He took a deep breath, gathering up his courage before speaking. “You’re uh, alone then.. huh?”

"Yeah." you answered simply, falling silent almost as soon as the words left your mouth.

JJ felt relief at your confirmation, though he could tell that there was something off in your tone. You seemed almost tired and maybe even sad. He didn’t want to ask why though - it wasn’t like you’d be telling the truth anyway, and it didn’t matter why you were alone in the first place. All that really mattered to him was the fact that you were alone right now.

He took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone a little tentative, almost as if he was feeling you out. “You… want me to come over?”

"Do you wanna come over?" you asked, narrowing your eyes even though he couldn't see it given you were on the phone.

He chuckled slightly at your response. Even when all hell broke loose between the 2 of you, you always somehow found a way to be stubborn about things. It was almost endearing, if not maddening.

“Oh, you’re asking for my opinion now, huh?” He said, his tone lighthearted - for now at least.

“Well, the answer’s yes, I want to come over. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

You hummed knowingly, "I'll leave the window open in case you follow through with that." you spoke after a small moment of silence.

JJ smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly at your words. How did you always manage to keep things so casual between the 2 of you?

“You know I will.” He said softly, already getting up from where he was sitting. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

True to his word, JJ arrived at your place shortly after your call. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the quiet, wealthy neighborhood. He couldn't help but notice that the house was shrouded in darkness, each window unlit—a clear signal that everyone else in your household was fast asleep. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Good, that worked for him. The stillness of the night amplified the distant hum of cicadas and the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by a balmy breeze.

Navigating with practiced ease, he made his way around to the back of your house. The familiar path was etched into his memory, each step bringing back a rush of shared whispers and hidden laughter from a long time ago. A time that he tried not to think about. Your bedroom window stood slightly ajar, just as you'd promised—a silent invitation.

He hoisted himself up effortlessly, the muscles in his arms flexing as he gripped the windowsill. Careful not to make any noise that might disturb the tranquil hush, he slipped through the opening with the grace of someone who'd done this many times before. The scent of your room enveloped him—a gentle mix of lavender and the unmistakable essence that was uniquely yours. He closed the window behind him.

The dim moonlight cast long shadows, but JJ moved confidently. He had long since memorized the layout of your bedroom—the way your desk was cluttered with scattered, expensive makeup and perfume, the cozy chair draped with a soft blanket, the shelf overflowing with well-worn books. His gaze lingered on the small details, each one a reflection of you.

You heard him come through the window, slipping out of bed and walking so you were standing in front of him, watching him fix the curtains after closing the window. You scanned him as well as you could in the dim light. He looked like he always looked, handsome. Sometimes you couldn't believe your small booger infested best friend grew up into a 17 year old who looked like America's next heartthrob.

Despite that, he still looked a little wrecked, like he was plastered and he had a rough night, your tone a little softer than how it was on the phone, "you look like a mess.."

JJ chuckled lightly at your words, giving you a small smirk. He knew he looked like a wreck - his hair was messier than usual, shirt wrinkled, and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion from the alcohol.

He took a step towards you, standing right in front of you and looking down at you in the dark. He always forgot how much shorter you were than him. "So I look like a mess and you still called me over, huh?"

"I couldn't possibly know what you looked like..." you mumbled, raising your brows as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled again, a low, hoarse sound. He knew you were bullshitting, but he couldn't really care at the moment. All he wanted was you.

He lifted one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your chin. “Yeah, of course you didn't..” He said, his tone sarcastic.

“Did you call me over just to criticize the way I look? Damn, talk about rude.”

"No-.. sorry.. i just, felt like i needed to point it out." you spoke nodding along with your own words.

He could tell that you were lying again - you always apologized when you didn't mean it, but tonight he wasn't going to call you out on it. He was too drunk for that.

He chuckled again, pulling you closer to him, his other arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you against him. He leaned down a bit, speaking in a low voice by your ear.

"So then, why did you call me over?"

"Technically you suggested to come over.." you deflected given you had no answer to that. Sex? that was always the main factor either of you saw each other alone.

He snorted, a small smirk on his face at your answer. At least you were being honest about that part. He leaned down further, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke in a soft, gravelly tone.

“Now we’re just gonna be petty about technicalities?”

He heard you hum in response, your arms coming up around his shoulders, fingers tracing over the back of his neck almost lazily and making him shiver slightly against your touch.

He felt the familiar pull of lust starting to stir up in him, and suddenly he couldn’t hold back. He suddenly wrapped his arm around your thighs, easily picking you up against him and carrying you over to the bed.

He sat down on the bed, setting you down in his lap, your knees on either side of him.

He let his hands wander down to your waist, gripping your hips as he pulled you close to him, his lips pressing against your neck, trailing kisses down your throat. God, he'd missed the way you felt in his hands..

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders almost without realizing. It felt like your body already knew what to do, having done it so many times already. Despite that you always managed to get turned on in a way that it didn't feel repetitive or routinely when sleeping with JJ.

He groaned against your throat, his hands already working at the waistband of the shorts you were wearing and trying to pull them off of you in the position the two of you were in.

He left a trail of kisses down your throat to your collarbone, his teeth gently sinking into your skin, trying to find that one sensitive spot that he knew always drove you crazy.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as his teeth found the specific spot under your jaw. It was like he knew what your body liked already and in some fucked up it was endearing. Even when you were technically cheating on your boyfriend. You ground your hips gently, your hands tangling in his already messy hair, messing it up even more.

He groaned softly against your skin when he felt your hips grinding down on him almost hesitantly, his arms wrapping around your waist a little tighter. Damn how he’d missed this, even when he was aware just how wrong it was to be doing what he was doing with you.

He suddenly pulled his head back, his lips finding yours as he kissed you deeply, desperately. He always had to remind himself that he couldn’t leave any marks on you

You cupped his jaw, your fingers splayed out on his cheeks returning the kiss messily, deepening it almost instantly, again, in a practiced way.

His hands quickly found the hem of your shirt, pushing it up and over your head and tossing it onto the floor. He wanted to feel your skin, your body, everything. It'd been too long since the last time he was allowed to do this.

He pulled back from the kiss, his hands pushing your hair back and he looked up at you, his eyes roaming over your body in the dim light of the room.

He let his eyes trail down to your neck and collarbone, a little mark on your collarbone from a previous time they were together still remaining. He suddenly leaned down again, pressing kisses to it before gently biting down on your skin again, his mouth trailing the same path as his eyes towards your breasts covered by your thin bralette. He pressed soft, almost reverent kisses on the skin, his hand kneading your other breast gently.

He looked up at you again when he was done, his breath a little ragged.

"You still taking the pill?"

"You didn't bring a condom?" you asked, furrowing your brows at his question in mild annoyance. Some people had dirty talk before they fucked, you two had this. Having to make sure nothing went wrong and asking the questions you had to ask in a casual manner.

He chuckled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes slightly. Honestly, he knew he should’ve expected the question, but it still amused him how quickly you both went from being all over each other to the serious questions.

He ran his hands up your thighs and gripped your hips, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

"Of course I didn't.."

His hands were still at your hips, his fingers pulling at the hem of your shorts as he looked up at you. His eyes seemed just slightly darker than usual.

"So I'll take that as a yes.." It was a statement, not a question - he already knew the answer. You'd never said no before after all.

"Of course it is a yes... you never bring condoms for some reason." you muttered shaking your head in disbelief, your hands reaching behind you to unclip your bralette.

He smirked when he saw you reach back, his eyes on your hands as they unclip the clasp and push the straps over your shoulders, discarding the item of clothing somewhere on the floor.

"I told you - I don’t like them." He said simply, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looked you over again, growing more uninterested in the conversation at hand.

"Yeah but we can't afford to.. have any slip ups.." your voice was slightly hesitant as you gazed down at him; still straddling him, your expression a stark contrast from the fact that you were on his lap topless. You could tell he was still drunk, and you were kinda feeling the reality of the situation settle in for a split second. After a few weeks of not talking, or sleeping with each other for that matter, you guilt came back full force. But it was pushed down quickly, as it usually was. You felt like a horrible person but you just couldn't help it. Especially when it was JJ.

He raised a hand, gently cupping your cheek, running his thumb over your skin. His touch was a little bit gentler than usual, the alcohol in his system making him a bit more sentimental and open.

"Hey - it’s okay, we won't have any slip ups. I know you’re on birth control, I know you’re careful. We’ve don’t this enough times, everything is fine."

He was reassuring you as best as he could given his state and the fact that he was trying to ignore the guilt in the pit of his own stomach.

He let his hand fall from your face to your waist again as he continued to talk, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the skin there.

"I’ve never once forgotten to pull out. It’s gonna be okay."

He could tell you were worried - you always got like this whenever you thought about the slim possibility that there could be consequences for what the two of you were doing.

You were gonna say something but held back, you were already half naked and he was already in your room; you couldn't possibly deny yourselves of this, especially when you could feel how hard he was. Stopping this one time wasn't gonna make either of you better people or fix the mess you were so deeply buried in. So, you cupped his face, leaning down to kiss him sloppily once again, the kiss hot and hurried in a way.

He groaned against your lips, his hands going to your hips and digging his fingers in to hold you in place. The taste of your lips against his and your skin against his skin sent his heart racing in a way he hadn't felt in a long time with you.

He felt your tongue against his lips and he opened his mouth, his tongue pressing against yours as he kissed you hungrily, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip gently.

He suddenly grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, your bodies now flush against his. He groaned again, and he had to stop himself from asking any stupid questions - they'd both just be lies anyway since they'd never get any answers out of you.

He pushed his tongue against your teeth, the kiss more sloppy now as he tasted the inside of your mouth, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, your hips - trying to touch you everywhere he could, cover as much skin as he could.

Your tongues tangled as you let the kiss deepen, your hands cupping his jaw holding it tightly, your head tilting to the side gently, He tasted like beer and vodka with a hint of weed, and your thoughts swirled in your head, questions and some snarky comments even. Why was he here with you when he could've hooked up with a random girl at the party he was at? why was he putting up with this shit, if you were arguing on the phone before he came over? But you guessed that just like you, this was his way of taking the frustration out his system. After all, physical was better than emotional even though you both fucked with each other's emotions more than you fucked probably.

He moved his hands from your back to your hips again, and suddenly started to pull them down against his own, forcing your hips to rock against his. He groaned softly against your lips as he felt the friction against his lap, his already half-hard cock getting even harder now. It wasn't enough though, it never was, and he always wanted more than he probably deserved when it came down to this.

He groaned again against your lips, the sound guttural as he continued to guide your hips against his - pushing your clothed core against his own still-clothed hard on.

He pulled away from your lips to start trailing kisses down your neck and your collarbone, his tongue and teeth leaving light marks against your skin that would disappear in the morning. It wasn’t like he could do much more even he wanted to, but he would always have to make sure there was no actual damage to your skin, for the sake of your boyfriend.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pushed your hips down, all your worries vanishing for the split second of pleasure, grinding down while your hands held onto his shoulders, your breathing growing more ragged as he continued to nibble at your throat gently. You felt slightly dizzy, your head spinning a little at the overwhelming feelings which your brain tried to register all at once. The feeling of his hands holding your hips, roaming over your sides, waist and ribs, his lips moving across the sensitive skin of your throat, all of it was almost sickening in a good way.

He smirked against your neck slightly, feeling your whole body shiver under his hands. He pushed his lips down to the top of your breast, his tongue and teeth leaving a small mark on the side. It would probably just look like a regular ol' bruise and wouldn’t be an immediate cause for suspicion from anyone else, so he felt okay leaving it there.

He pulled you down from straddling him, lifting his hips off your bed so that he could flip the two of you over so that his body was on top of yours, leaning over you as he pulled his shirt off.

The skin on his chest and his abdomen were warm against your body, his broad shoulders hovering over you as he leaned down against you, his forearms rested on either side of your head. He hovered there for a second, his eyes trailing over your face and chest before he leaned down to press his lips against yours again.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, returning his kiss instantly like you always did, the warmth of his body welcome against your skin. You grazed your nails gently across his shoulder blades as you kissed him back eagerly, tongues tangling in a familiar dance.

He groaned into your mouth, his body shivering when he felt your nails on his back. He deepened the kiss in response, his hands roaming and touching your body wherever he could. He wanted to touch every bare piece of your skin underneath him - to savor every taste and sound that he could get out of you from what time you had.

He broke the kiss again, his lips going back down to the skin of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbone. His teeth scraped against your throat and he had to stop himself from biting too hard, knowing that there were some limits he couldn’t pass. He had to be extra careful, as if he even could be, with things like this. He pushed that thought out of his head and continued on your skin, his lips finding their way down to your chest.

In some way you could tell that by the way he was kissing your neck he was hesitant. Afraid to push some boundary that you both set at the beginning of this whole thing. Again it was endearing in a way, if you didn't think about the fact that he respected the boundary in the first place for the sake of your relationship. In moments like these you wondered why you were even dating your boyfriend in the first place; when you and JJ obviously had something, even if it was hid underneath arguments and screaming matches peppered with snarky comments. But then it was the whole paradox of you basically cheating on your boyfriend with him, which wouldn't technically work in the long term with JJ. After all the way you win them is the way you lose them, despite knowing that you and him had something genuine you wouldn't be forced to go look for it somewhere else.

You took the time to shrug off the shorts you were wearing along with your underwear, saving him the trouble of him doing it him self, your hands going back to tugging at his hair, or run your nails along the skin of hi shoulder blades mindlessly.

He pushed himself up for a second, sitting up on his knees to get his own pants off, pushing them down over his hips and tossing them on the floor. He looked down at you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. It never failed to take his breath away, to see you like this when it was just the two of you and nothing else.

He suddenly shifted, pulling your hips roughly towards his lap again and positioning himself between your legs.

He leaned back over you, his chest against yours as he let his weight fall into you. He reached one hand down between your legs, his fingers searching for the heat between them as he looked down at you again. He saw you bite your lip, holding back a slight gasp from the touch, and that was all he needed to continue, the slight hitch in your breath sending his imagination spiraling, as if he hadn't done this more times that he could possibly keep count of.

You let your eyes flutter closed for a second as soon as his fingers made contact with you, your lips parting ever so slightly at the feather light touch and the contrast between his weight on top of you.

He continued using his fingers, moving them in rhythmic, careful motions that he knew all too well how to do. He shifted himself just slightly, making it easier to reach his other hand down to your hip, grabbing it and holding you still as he continued to use his fingers.

His fingers kept their pace, the feeling of your wetness against them making it difficult for him to do so. He wanted to lose himself in the feeling, to get you to the point where you’d make that pretty little sound that only he knew how to bring out of you.

Your brows scrunched up ever so slightly, your breathing sputtery as his fingers moved in rhythmic circular motions over your clit. You let your lips part a little, small moans escaping them as soon as they did. It was insane how he instantly knew how to move his fingers, as soon as he touched you the familiar feeling of pleasure building, the focused look in his eyes intensifying the lust filling your senses.

He smirked slightly when he heard the moans escaping your mouth, seeing the effect he had on you. It was still an ego boost for him every time he got a reaction out of you. He loved knowing that he could give you a moment of pleasure away from the rest of the world. He wanted those moments for himself, to get that one little bit of you when he could get it because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give it to you again when the sun came up.

His fingers kept their pace, keeping up with your breathing that started to get more ragged and harsh. He wanted to bring you to that point, the one where you’d get lost in the feelings he was giving you and his body pinning yours onto the bed. He wanted you to feel pleasure and only think of him, to give him everything he needed because he knew that in the morning, you’d be gone again and he’d be forced to be alone once more in the same cold bed he’d been in for a while.

Your eyes fluttered open to lock with his, your face still scrunched up in pleasure, your legs parting slightly without realizing when he slipped them inside you. His fingers although moving at a relatively fast pace, they felt almost tender even. And you were glad for that subconsciously, given it's been a while. You wouldn't admit it to JJ obviously, but when it came to doing these things with your boyfriend they felt rehearsed, like he'd do everything robotically. JJ was different, despite being rougher, you felt like it was allowed between you with how familiar you both were with each other due the long friendship backing this shit show that was unraveling more and more between you 2 the more you slept together. Like a train wreck that just kept on wrecking.

He looked back at you, his eyes locked with yours. It was stupid of him to allow himself more than this - just a moment of pure bliss between you two - but somehow he was always a fool when it came to you.

He suddenly moved his hand away from between your legs, bringing it up instead to rest next to your head, his free hand still holding your hip in place as he leaned his body down against yours

He brought his lips down to your neck again, his teeth scraping against the soft skin as he moved them further down to your collarbone, leaving more marks. He didn’t care if your boyfriend would notice them - he hated whenever he saw them on your skin - because if there was one thing JJ was it was selfish. He was selfish and he was selfish when it came to you above all others.

When he pulled his fingers away and slipped them out from inside you you were left feeling a bit empty, physically that was. Emotionally you felt empty for a long time now when it came to him. It was ridiculous. Your hands reached up to run through his hair, your fingers carding through the messy strands, allowing yourself to relish into the pleasant feeling of his warm body against yours, the way he kissed your neck more feverishly now.

He shivered against you when you ran your fingers through his hair, his breath hitching just slightly. He almost hated just how much he actually felt when you did that, to how easily you could distract him with just the simplest of touches.

He moved his attention to your chest once more, his lips and tongue marking the sensitive skin, his mouth leaving small, dark marks in their trail. He made sure to keep them mostly below your collarbone, where they’d be easy to cover up in the morning.

He kissed the skin on your chest again before pushing himself back onto his knees, still between your legs. He looked down at you, his eyes darkened and his breathing heavy. He loved seeing how wrecked you were when he got down like this with you, your skin covered in marks and small reminders of him for the days, and weeks, ahead. Reminders he knew you’d try to hide again from everyone else.

He grabbed your hips again, his grip firm as he held onto you and pulled you closer to him. He shifted, lining himself up with you as he looked down at you again, waiting for permission to continue. You found yourself nodding, granting him the permission he asked for almost mindlessly, your body taut with anticipation.

He swallowed a breath again, his eyes glancing down to what he was doing before he looked back at you, seeing your own eyes locked with his as he teased your clit with the tip of his cock. He could practically feel the anticipation from you, the same as him. He knew it was stupid, that this was the same cycle the two of you continued. You were together in the moment, and distant in the morning. But he was a fool and so were you, and that was something neither of you could help.

He pushed himself forward, sinking into you as he did. He let his eyes slip shut for a moment, a slight exhale leaving his lips as he did, the feeling of you enveloping him familiar but still overwhelming for him. It was always like the first time he got to do this with you, and it hurt him each time, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to give this up anytime soon. He wouldn’t be able to get the chance to get over you because you were always there in the middle of the night.

You drew in a breath, the physical emptiness melting as soon as he was inside you again. It was always overwhelming and mind-numbing despite being done multiple times already. Ironic. You arched up a little, despite still needing a few moments to adjust fully. The stinging wasn't unpleasant, at least not with JJ. It meant you could hold onto it and have it make your stomach constrict and your chest tighten.

He looked back down at you, seeing you arch your back against the bed, the feeling of you still wrapping around him making it hard for him to concentrate. He held onto your hips again, his fingers digging into the skin there to keep himself stable.

He had to hold himself back a little bit, from moving too quickly. He knew that even if you didn’t care, there was a risk of getting caught by your family, and he didn’t want to give them any real reason to hate him any more than they probably already did.

He let out another breath, his breathing getting quicker as he began to move in small thrusts, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through both of you. He held back a moan when he did, trying to keep quiet, and he knew that you were doing the same, the two of you having to stay quiet to avoid too much attention to the fact that he was here right now.

As he began to move you let out a small breath accompanied by a moan, which you knew you had to muffle in order not to accidentally wake up anyone, your palm moving to cover your mouth, prevent the sounds to spill out.

He let his eyes glance down, watching as your hand moved to your mouth as another small moan escaped you. It was hard for him not to pick up his pace at that sight, the fact that you felt the need to be quiet. He wanted you to be able to be loud (like obscenely loud), and to let his name fall from those pretty lips without a care in the world. But he knew that that wasn’t possible - not in this moment or ever - so he had to keep this all as a secret and a memory.

He continued doing the slow, almost rhythmic movements inside of you, the position allowing him to sink deep. His eyes stayed on your face, watching the way your eyes closed and the way your body reacted to all the feelings he was giving you. It was as if he were burning into memory every single expression you made in this moment, knowing that by the time the sun rose in the morning, this moment would be forgotten by you, but him alone. And he knew that he had to savor this, savor these moments, just to keep him going in the days and weeks to come.

"I wanna change.. behind.." you found yourself mumbling without realizing through the hesitant moans, your eyes fluttering open to lock with his.

He paused for a moment, still buried deep inside you, to take in your words. It took him a second to realize what you meant, but when he did, he couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face.

He was all for trying out new things with you, but he didn’t expect you to come up with it yourself. He nodded quickly, pulling himself out of you and backing away a little to give you room to switch positions.

You shifted on your hands and knees, your forearms slipping under your pillow slightly, arching your back up a little, all the while steadying your breath.

He couldn’t help but let out a small, shaky breath upon seeing the position you were now in. Seeing you like that was always so arousing to him, especially when it was your choice to do so. It was like you were submitting to him, and it was hard to keep his own pace when you did.

He shifted closer behind you, one of his hands resting at your hip as he used the other to prop himself up, his eyes looking down at you. He swallowed a breath again, his mouth growing a little bit dry at the sight of you bent over in front of him, waiting for him to take you again. It was the best thing to him - this position. Because like this, he could pretend that you were his, and his alone, even though he knew that you would never be. And it was this moment, he felt in control of you, and it was one of the few moments where you allowed yourself to be JJ and [name] and no one else.

He took a shaky breath before sliding himself back into you, letting out another groan, louder than he meant to. Thankfully, you had buried your head in your pillow, to prevent that sweet moan you knew would let out once he was back inside you.

You arched a little more, tilting your head back allowing him to muffle your sounds more easily now that he stood up straight, his big hand almost covering the lower part of your face, the other hand holding your hip to guide him self in and out of you at a steady pace, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

He continued to thrust into you slowly, although he didn’t know how long he could keep this up, the feeling of you wrapped around him and your sounds beneath his hand beginning to get to him. He leaned closer to you, his chest against your back, and brought his mouth down to your shoulder to try and muffle his own sounds against your skin, his lips against the marks he left earlier, his own small reminders of the time he spent with you like this. The only reminders really.

He couldn’t help but feel just a little greedy, not wanting to slow down as he continued at a relentless pace now, even though he knew someone in this house could easily wake up and check on you. He wanted just a little more time, and a little more of you, even though he knew that it could mess everything up.

He pushed himself in a little rougher now, making sure not to press too hard against your shoulder to keep himself quiet. He knew he was being selfish and careless, but he just wanted these moments, to hold onto them so that he would have something to keep him from breaking in the morning. He wanted just a little more time in this bed, with you, so that he could pretend it was all okay. That he was just a dumb teenager sneaking into the room of his girlfriend and mess around, under the nose of her family. It was far from that.

He continued with the relentless pace which allowed him to kiss your cervix with every thrust, his hand on your hip gripping you tighter to keep you still against him, as his hips moved against yours, pulling more whimpers and moans out of you, even with his hand covering your mouth. It was harder to hear you now, but he was satisfied that he was able to muffle most of the sounds that came out of you. He also knew that he would be satisfied with these memories until the next time he could sneak in and this could happen again, over and over again, in a never-ending cycle.

You knees dug into the mattress for support, still resting on your forearms, back arched up perfectly so you could have him buried deep inside you, the action one akin to a cat arching its back. Your sounds muffled by his hand were growing more frequent now, although they sounded more like mewls instead of actual moans.

His own sounds got a little louder, but he was still able to keep it quiet. He let out a low moan, but it was quickly cut off by him biting into your shoulder again, trying to distract himself from the feeling by leaving more marks. He knew it was self-serving, and that you had to deal with the fallout of that in the morning, but he hoped that you wouldn't mind too much, especially since it meant he could keep a small reminder of you on him as well.

He continued to bite down onto your skin, leaving small marks there in different spots which varied from the back of your neck and your shoulder, marking and claiming you as his even if he didn't really have any right. But JJ was so used to being alone, and he just wanted something that was his, even for just this moment.

He continued to bite and suck into your skin, as his pace started to quicken, losing himself a little bit in trying to drown out the world and enjoy this moment as much as he could, in case it could be the last time it happened. He knew that he was being careless, that this could all end in an instant if someone barged in on them. But he wanted more, he wanted you all to himself, even though he knew you'd never allow it.

One of your hands reached up gently, as if trying to pry his hand from your mouth to speak. You wanted to change positions again, to maybe prolong it a little bit more, even if once it ended you didn't exactly know when you'd sleep together again.

He took a deep breath slowly removing his hand from your mouth to let you speak, curious about what you would say. He could still feel you shuddering against him, the pace of his movements not letting up, but slowing just a little bit, waiting for your next words.

"Let's switch again.." you almost whimpered out, turning your head to gaze at him over your shoulder.

He slowed down and pulled himself out, taking a moment to control his breathing before nodding. He wasn’t going to say no to you.

"How do you want it this time?"

"Missionary.." you mumbled, shifting once again, your limbs shaky and a bit uncoordinated as you moved to lay on your back.

He watched you as you moved, his eyes wandering over the marks he left on your body, some already starting to form into little bruises, like reminders of the fact that he was here, that he had been with you. His eyes glanced down at the way your body quivered and how your breath hitched as you laid down and waited for him, making his own breath hitch in response.

"Yeah, yeah… okay…" he mumbled, shifting to situate himself in front of you.

He slowly settled between your thighs, his hands on them already pushing them apart. He was a little impatient, but he tried to give himself some time to breathe and pull himself together, as he looked down at you, the sight in front of him still just as good as the first time he had you like this, just as breathtaking as it was the first time he had you underneath him.

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance, looking down at you as he did, silently asking for permission, waiting for any sign to tell him that this was what you really wanted, even though he already knew. He still wanted to be respectful, even if everything they did in these moments was the opposite of respectful, and it was hard for him to hold back the sounds that wanted to come out of his own throat when he saw you laying there, waiting for him, legs and lips parted and eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure.

You nodded eagerly, brows knitting up in desperation and plea, your tongue darting out to run over your lips.

He couldn’t help the sound of a sigh coming out of his mouth when he saw that, at your desperate nod and the way your tongue seemed to be begging without words. It made his stomach swoop and his chest tighten at the sight, the way you wanted him still surprising him every time. One might have thought that he would get used to it, but no, it just made his want for you grow.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he pushed himself back into you once, letting out a low moan as he did, but quickly he covered his mouth at the sound that came out of him. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled his hand away, his eyes looking down at you as he pushed again, his pace starting out slow, but getting more and more rougher again.

You spread your legs a little, wrapping them around his waist loosely to fully bury him inside you, along with your arms around his neck, every time he slipped inside you felt like heaven. Your lower stomach was already beginning to grow taut again, the pleasure coiling and ready to snap. You tilted your head back into the pillow your mouth falling open slightly.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching you as he continued, the view of you laid back among the pillows, your head tilted back and your hair splayed out against the white fabric, the way you seemed to almost glow in the dim light, even through the darkness. His hand came down to your hip, holding you in place as he got more rougher with his thrusts, his breath sputtery and ragged.

He looked down at you again, his eyes taking in all of your reactions, feeling your hands and legs on him, and how you felt around him. The sounds that came out of his mouth were low, as he tried to not let his voice get too loud in case anyone in your house could hear him and what he was doing to you. But it was hard, the sight of you making him want to let out every sound he was holding back, everything he had been holding back from you and this for so long since he first had you. JJ wasn't one to be quiet during these things, he liked to talk and he wasn't afraid to moan or whimper, he was no bitch about that kind of thing. But he had to, at least when it came to you. He had to be quiet and treat this as it was- a thing that was done on a whim and that had to be kept at a low volume.

"Feels so good.. like that.." you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open, trying to suppress the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips when you spoke, your words quiet. You still clung to him, your nails digging into the soft sun-kissed skin of his shoulder blades.

He was almost surprised that you were able to speak in sentences, knowing that this must have felt just as good for you as it did for him. The sounds you made, the way you held onto him and the way you looked all served to make it hard for him to hold back.

"Yeah?" he panted, his voice coming out a little strangled even as he mumbled. "Does it feel that good?"

"Mhm..." you whimpered weakly in response, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him even deeper, letting out a choked moan at the feeling. "Faster.. go faster J.."

He felt his stomach swoop and tighten at your response—at the small nickname, and when he felt you wrap your legs around him to bring him in deeper, he thought he saw stars for a second. He looked down at you with a desperate expression, his eyes searching your face for confirmation. When you told him to go faster, he took one breath before nodding and picking up the pace, his hips moving against you at a faster pace now.

"Fuck.. yeah.. that's good.. so good" You spoke in a hushed murmur, barely above the sound of your racing heart. Your head tilted back further into the pillow as if seeking refuge in the softness beneath, while your body instinctively arched upward into his chest. Without conscious thought, your nails dug gently into his back, and your fingers traced tender, desperate patterns, as if each scratch could etch the memory of this solace onto your skin. Every quiet touch was a silent plea for more—a wordless confession of longing and vulnerability in the darkness of the room.

He couldn’t help but let out a strangled moan when he heard you say that, the sound almost escaping from his throat before he could try to muffle it against the skin of your shoulder. The way your nails were digging into his back was sending sparks through his body, and he was sure that in the morning he would have little half-moon marks and scratches there as a reminder of this moment.

He continued to pick up the pace as you pushed closer to him, his thrusts getting a little rougher and faster than before. He could feel your back arching up into his chest, the feeling of your nails scratching against his back almost enough to send him over the edge. He bit into your shoulder to muffle another sound, and his arm wrapped around you, holding you closer to him almost tenderly.

His arm wrapped around your middle clutched at you, lifting your lower back from the bed ever so slightly, thrusting deeper and deeper causing your mouth to fall open a little, jaw slack from the white hot pleasure.

He felt the way you gasped, and he could feel the way your body trembled beneath him as he continued to hold you closer to him, his arm around you helping him with the angle. He continued to muffle his sounds against your skin, as if still trying to keep this moment a secret from the world, the sounds coming out of his own mouth just as obscene as the ones coming from your lips.

He was starting to forget about everything else in the world as the orgasm built, the world outside the window of your bedroom, the people in the house with you, even all the things around him in your room, just focusing on you and the way you felt against him, the way your body was wrapped around him and the way you sounded, your little mewls and whimpers that he loved hearing and wanted to hear even more of. He didn’t care if he was being greedy in the moment, he just wanted it to last.

You could feel yourself becoming almost mindless from the pleasure, your mouth still slightly open and writhing in his hold. The angle almost made you suffocate from the intense pleasure, still scratching and digging your nails into his shoulder blades, to the point that if he wasn't just as numb from pleasure, he'd probably hiss in pain. His pace and thrusts were messy, sloppy and uncoordinated just like his moans. You were hoping you were doing a good job at holding back your moans.

He almost tried to speak some words, tried to tell you to stop digging your nails into his flesh, but he couldn’t find the words, and he honestly kind of liked the pain. It was a token of everything that was happening here, and he could tell that he would have some little marks in the morning, and he would be able to look at them and think of you every time he saw them.

He was trying to be quiet, and he was struggling to keep his control, and this whole situation felt so wrong, and yet it felt so good that he couldn’t stop to care about it. The only thing on his mind in the moment was you and the pleasure that he was feeling, and the sound of your voice was music to his ears, even if you were trying to be quiet.

"You.. can.. finish inside.." you found yourself almost panting out, your hips moving to almost pull him even deeper than he was. Desperately.

He almost wanted to say that he shouldn’t, even though he wanted to, he didn’t want to make a mess, he wanted to be polite, and he couldn’t risk anything. But when you panted that he could, he couldn’t get himself to stop. It was like someone gave him the command, and he wanted nothing else but to comply.

He could feel himself getting there just from your words, your movements and the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. It was almost like the rest of the world had faded away and you were the only thing he could see, the only thing he wanted to see. He was desperate for you, and he knew he was a hopeless case, even if he didn’t like to admit it to himself sometimes.

He could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling in the bottom of his stomach, the way his movements were getting more sloppy, more desperate. He couldn’t hold on for much longer, he was starting to get closer now, his breath coming in quick pants, as his own sounds were starting to slip from his throat, his pace quick and messy, his mind completely focused on you.

The pleasure building in your lower stomach was getting more taut, your hands tugging at his hair or digging your nails into his back. His hand reached up, pressing his thumb between your already parted lips and pressing down on your tongue; your sounds becoming a little more obnoxious as his thrusts got more sloppy and fast, "JJ... 'm close.." you managed to mumble around his digit breathlessly, half opening your eyes to gaze at him despite his face being buried into the spot where your shoulder and neck met.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, too focused on how to keep himself under control, how not to let something that might end up being too loud escape from him, to form any coherent thought. But when he heard you say that, he looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours. He could tell you were getting close, and just the thought of that made him feel even hotter and more eager. He panted against your skin, his breath hot and shaky as he tried to form words.

"Yeah.. come on, sweetheart…"

He tried to speak again, his voice barely above a whisper, his mouth next to your ear, as his hips stuttered a little, his pace still quick and desperate. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open, to keep his voice down and not let it escape his lips. He wanted to hear you say more, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to hear you say how much you wanted him, how good he made you feel. He wanted to hear anything and everything as long as it was in that tone.

You found yourself nodding at his shaky sentence, your face scrunched up in pleasure. Your brain was too focused on the myriad of sensations, his arm wrapped around your waist holding your lower back off the bed a little, his teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder every now and then when he tried to muffle his sounds, the pleasure from the fast pace, the thumb pressing down on your tongue or caressing your bottom lip. Everything JJ had to offer you, even for a limited time. "JJ.." you mumbled, wanting to say something more than his name but your brain was too fogged up to let out other words.

He held you close to him, even though he was so worked up he couldn’t think straight, holding you tightly against him as he continued to move, his head moving so his face was right next to yours, so he could speak to you in a low, almost gruff voice, his southern drawl slipping out even more now. His nose brushed against your cheek, his mouth now next to your ear.

"Come on, sweetheart.. come on, I want you to-" He almost couldn’t control the sound of his own voice, his pants getting heavier, and he cut himself off before he could say more.

He couldn’t think straight, the feeling of your skin against his, the way you were clenching around him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, everything was overwhelming, and he could feel his mind going blank from all the pleasure and pressure he was feeling. He didn’t care about holding back anymore, he didn’t care about anything else, all that he could think about was you, and your voice, and how badly he wanted to hear you say his name in that special way you always did when you were losing your mind.

You wanted to prolong it, but you had been close so many times already, reason why you asked him to change positions two times but you couldn't hold back anymore. You found your self mumbling his name as quietly as you could, feeling the pleasure wash over you and the knot in your lower stomach snap, leaving you almost breathless. Your body shook gently for a couple of times, your jaw slack, legs wrapped around his waist in a tight lock.

He almost couldn’t breathe when he heard you say his name like that, heard the sounds that were coming out of your mouth. It was like a song to his ears, the best sound he’s ever heard, and just the way you were clenching around him, he felt like he was starting to reach the edge. But the way you were shaking, he was so overwhelmed, hearing you say his name again and again, like a prayer.

"Yeah.. keep saying that, sweetheart, just like that..."

He felt like he could get addicted to that sound, that way you spoke, all breathless and quiet, like you were barely holding on, like you couldn’t get enough of him. Every time you said his name it was like you were giving him a little piece of you, a little piece that nobody else but him was allowed to have, and he wanted more of it, he wanted more of you, he wanted to feel you all around him. Like when he'd plunge in the ocean water and he could feel it surround him.

You didn't even notice you finished because it happened really fast and he wasn't there yet. You clutched to him still, your thighs spasming a little with every of his thrusts, your voice coming into small mewls and his name like he asked. You were tugging his hair, the other hand splayed across his shoulder blade, clenching around him as if urging him to finish.

He couldn’t stop panting, he was holding you so tight against him, he could feel you clutching on to him, and he knew you were gone, but he was still chasing his own feeling of release, panting into your ear, he could feel yourself clenching around him and your fingers in his hair and he never wanted to forget this moment, he never wanted to stop feeling this feeling, and hearing how his name left your mouth, knowing he did that to you, it was so good he never wanted it to end.

He couldn’t tell if you were saying all his name because he told you to or because you were just so worked up, but he couldn’t tell if it mattered anyway, he couldn’t get his mind to wrap around anything that didn’t have to do with you and the feeling of you clenching around him and how wet and warm you were.

"Yeah.. come on, ‘m close, ‘m so close.." He could feel the knot in his stomach coiling, the heat and pressure in his lower growing hotter and hotter with each thrust.

"Come on JJ... i want you to finish.." You urged in a breathless murmur, the air in your lungs momentarily stolen as his hips shifted and the tip of his cock kissed your cervix so sweetly. Every subtle movement sent ripples of delightful overstimulation through your body—a sensation so intense yet perfectly pleasurable.

He couldn’t respond for a moment, his breath coming in ragged pants, it was getting harder and harder to form any sentences, even thoughts. But he could hear you speaking to him, and it was like his body was completely under your control, his arms tightening around you even more as he kept his face by yours.

"Yeah, yeah, sweetheart I swear, I’m- I’m almost there, I'm…" He cut himself off when a quiet moan almost escaped from his lips, almost too late, his head dropping to the crook of your neck instead.

He was so close, he was almost losing his mind, he was practically holding you against him like a lifeline, needing to feel you as close as he could get you. His movements were getting sloppy and jerky, his breath coming in quick pants, he was hanging on to you as if he couldn’t function otherwise, and the thought of that only made it better for some reason.

"Yeah.. ‘m close.. 'm.. I..” He couldn’t form words anymore, he was so overwhelmed, so desperate to finish and his arm wrapped around your middle like a vice.

He wasn’t sure if he actually finished, he wasn’t sure what happened, the whole world went a little fuzzy for a moment. All he could feel was you against him, all he could hear were the sounds you were making, and then the aftermath. His breathing was heavy, labored and shaky, and his body was completely pressed up against yours, his face still pressed against your neck. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to let go, he just wanted to stay like this forever if he could.

As soon as you heard the incoherent sounds from his lips followed by that one specific sound that would have you drenched and horny instantly, you knew he finished. You slumped your head on the pillow, lips parted as you panted, your thighs still spasming a little from overstimulation, your eyes closed as you tried to catch your breath. You were still wrapped around him inside and outside, your arms and legs hanging around him loosely now.

He couldn’t move, he just wanted to stay like this, keep you close to him. He was panting against your skin, trying to catch his breath, and he was completely spent. He could feel his breathing shudder as he tried to calm down, and he couldn’t stop himself from placing a small kiss against your neck, an almost instinct, as if needing to be close to you again, needing a small moment to ground himself again.

"God… damn it..” He mumbled against your skin, his voice hoarse.

He tried to lift his head up a little, looking at your face, your closed eyes and parted lips, he could see your expression, he could see how out of breath and overwhelmed you looked. It made his chest fill up with an almost primal satisfaction knowing he did that to you, that he was the reason you looked like that.

"You good..?” He asks after a moment, his voice still shaking a little, he just wanted to make sure you were alright.

"Yeah, 'm good.. just a little... out of it." you mumbled, taking a deep breath, your eyes fluttering open to gaze into his.

He nodded, taking a deep breath himself. "Yeah, same." He chuckled a little, running a hand over his face, and looking down at you.

"Damn.. we made a mess."

He let out a low chuckle as his eyes roamed over the sheets and between your bodies, the evidence of their activities staining the sheets and dripping down the inside of your thighs. He couldn’t help but smile a little, he liked making a mess of you, and his satisfied, almost cocky smirk was on display on his face as he looked back at you.

You glanced back down at your self and then back at him, raising your brows with a small smile, "yeah.. think i need to change the sheets tomorrow.."

JJ let out another small chuckle at that, resting his chin on your shoulder, still keeping his body close to yours, he didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to let go of you quite yet.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what a dirty girl you can be, hm?" He teased lightly, a smirk on his face as raised his eyebrows at you

"I just think if anyone heard anything they'll know.. which is—scary." you sighed softly, bringing a shaky hand to rub over your face.

He hummed in agreement, resting his chin against your shoulder as his own hands started to rub small circles against the your back. "That’d be bad. What would everyone think if they knew you were letting a pogue like me in your bed in the middle of the night all the time?" He teased lightly, a small cheeky smile on his face.

"I don't think I'm supposed to let anyone in my bed, pogue or not..." you half teased back, the other half dripping with seriousness.

He was silent for a moment as you said that, his hand paused from where it was rubbing against your back, and the smile on his face faded as he thought about your words. He’d be lying if he said he never felt guilty about the whole situation.

"Right. Guess you’re a bad girl after all then, huh?" He said teasingly, his hand resuming the soothing circles on your back.

His mind was wandering, thinking about the whole situation and how screwed up it was. He knew you weren’t really supposed to be doing this, that you were off limits, he knew that you had a boyfriend who you were meant to be with instead of him. But despite all that, he couldn’t help himself whenever he was around you, he never could.

So, here he was again, in your bed, tangled up with you like that was where he was supposed to be. Like he actually belonged here.

But he didn’t, it was a shitty situation, and it was shitty of him to keep taking advantage of you like this when he knew you were supposed to be with someone else. The thought of you being with someone else while he was the one in your bed, it made him feel sick.

He wrapped his arms around you a little tighter and pulled you closer against him, as if trying to ignore the guilty thoughts in his head.

"Yeah given I'm bad at everything.." you chuckled bitterly after a few moments of silence, the reality of the situation setting in. But just like other times you pushed it down. You'd have time to wallow in your own self pity when you were with your boyfriend anyway.

He frowned at that, he hated hearing you talk about yourself like that, he hated how broken and bitter you sounded when you spoke about yourself.

"Hey, you’re not bad at everything..” He started, shifting his body so he was looking down at you. "I mean you’re really good at-” He cut himself off, his eyes trailing down your body for a moment before he cleared his throat.

"At having adulterous sex?" you smirked at him, finishing his sentence as he gazed down at you.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, he did like when you were like this, witty and sarcastic. It reminded him of how you were when you were kids.

"Don’t say it like that, makes it sound less dirty” He grumbled, even as a part of him did like hearing you say those kinds of things.

He hummed as he thought of other things you were good at, moving to lay on his back next to you, pulling you over so you were laid out on top of him, as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin against the top of your head.

"You’re good at being smart, you’re good at being funny, you’re good at.. I dunno, a lotta things. You’re not bad at everything” He shrugged, his hands running over the smoothness of your back

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm having adulterous sex with the guy i tell my boyfriend not to worry about.." you narrowed your eyes teasingly, the smirk still there. You rubbed your hand on your face again, brushing back the strands of hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks, the feeling irritating you a little bit now.

He was silent for a moment, his arms were still around you, still holding you against him, but his hands stopped moving over your skin.

"You tell him that?" He asked eventually, his tone a little more serious than before, but there was a hint of a smirk, like he knew the answer to that question already. He did. He knew your boyfriend didn’t know about the two of you. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

"Yeah... he seems to think we're prone to sleeping with each other since we're childhood best friends. What a ridiculous dumbass, right? as if that could happen.." you chuckled, shaking your head at your own sardonic words.

His chest panged a little at that, listening to you say that, like you were lying to yourself. He wanted to call you out on that, point out the fact that what your boyfriend thought was completely true, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, it would be just repeating the obvious.

"Yeah.. he is a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?” He quipped instead, playing along with your words.

He kept his arms wrapped around you, his hand still rubbing up and down your back unconsciously. He was quiet, silent as he thought. God, your boyfriend really was an idiot, he was so lucky you hadn’t told him and yet your boyfriend was still too stupid to even see what was right in front of him.

That thought made him tighten his arms around you, holding you a little closer against him. He didn’t want to let go of you, he wanted you staying on top of him like that, he wanted you in his arms and tangled up with him. He didn’t want to think about the fact that you weren’t his, that you were supposed to be with someone else, with a pogue hating, money chasing tool and not him.

He hated the situation you were both in, he wished things were different.

"You staying here or going home?" you asked after a few moments of silence, your hands carding through his hair to distract yourself.

He closed his eyes and hummed a little, melting into the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. He was quiet as he thought about your question. Truth is he didn’t want to go home, he wanted to stay with you and never leave. But that wasn’t possible.

“I don’t know” He mumbled after a moment, opening his eyes to look at you. “Why, you tryin’ to kick me out or somethin?”

He closed his eyes and hummed a little, melting into the feeling of your hands carding through his hair. He was quiet as he thought about your question. Truth is he didn’t want to go home, he wanted to stay with you and never leave. But that wasn’t possible.

“I don’t know” He mumbled after a moment, opening his eyes to look at you. “Why, you tryin’ to kick me out or somethin?”

"No. If you were to argue with me about something stupid like usual, maybe." you responded bluntly, furrowing your brows to yourself.

He chuckled at that, a small smirk on his face at your answer. He knew you were right, the two of you often did argue over stupid things. A part of him wanted to argue with you now, just for the sake of it, so he could stay.

“What about if I don’t argue.” He asked after a moment, his hands still running up and down your back. “What if I’m on my best behaviour?”

"Then i guess you could stay." you muttered, you wanted to add that he should leave in the morning, through the window still but you fought against it. That would be cruel, and it wasn't like he didn't know that.

He could tell you held yourself back from saying that part, he could tell that you wanted to be cruel to him, for him to leave. And hell, maybe he deserved that, he definitely didn’t deserve you.

But he didn’t comment on that, instead, he just hummed in response. “Fine, I’ll stay. As long as I’m allowed to be the big spoon” He teased lightly, giving you a smirk He shifted on the bed a little until he was in his desired position, with you pulled against him, your back press up against his torso, his arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin resting on your shoulder, his face buried in your hair, inhaling your familiar scent.

Usually, JJ would be the kind of person who’d fall asleep almost as soon as he lay down, but right now, he felt wide awake. He didn’t want to waste any time with you and sleeping. It was selfish of him, but it didn’t matter.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as he hummed a little, burying his face against the crook of your neck.

You shifted as soon as he spooned you, his chest pressing against your back. Which was kinda sweaty and sticky, but so was he. You let your eyes flutter closed, not sleeping yet but just having your eyes closed. You pulled your messy duvet over you, noting that you'd have to probably change the entire bedding, with how sweaty and sticky you both were. A small part of you said no, of course. It would be nice to have the sheets smell like JJ after he left in the morning.

He made himself comfortable against you, snuggling deeper into the crook of your neck and letting one of his hands move from your waist to splay out over your stomach as he held you.

He could smell a faint hint of your perfume through the usual sweat and sex, but he didn’t mind it, he actually kind of liked it, he liked smelling you, it felt familiar, like home in a way. If he had one. He let out a grumble as he pressed a light kiss against your shoulder, shifting a little behind you so he could pull you even closer.

His eyes closed as he breathed you in, a sort of content expression on his face as he relished the feeling of you against him. He hadn’t felt so relaxed or comfortable in a long time, he could almost pretend that things were different, that the two of you were something different, something more. But that was a dangerous thought to have, and he tried to push it from his head.

He couldn’t help but think of other times like this, when he used to sneak into your childhood bedroom late at night and stay over instead of sleeping at his own shitty house.

He hummed as he thought about that, his hand slowly tracing patterns against your stomach as he let himself think about the past for a moment. He remembered one time in particular, when there had been a big storm and he was too scared to go home drenched, with his dad still angry from the previous fight. So, he snuck over to your house, climbed through your window and spent the night. You’d both snuggled up against each other, him holding you, just like he was right now. It was a memory he often revisited, thinking about how much had changed since then.

He knew things were different now, he wasn’t staying over because he was scared of a storm or his dad, he wasn’t a kid anymore. And neither were you. So much had changed. And yet, at the same time, nothing had changed at all. He was still staying over at your house and crawling through your window. He was still snuggled up against you, the two of you still tangled up together.

He just wished things were different. He shouldn’t still be sneaking over to stay with you, he should be your boyfriend, it should be his bed you were sharing.

"Can't fall asleep..?" you asked gently, noticing he was shifting and writhing a little, instead of being knocked out cold, like he usually was when you both did this.

He looked a little startled by the sound of your voice, he hadn’t expected you to talk, he’d just assumed you were asleep. When he realized that you were asking a question though, he grunted a little in response, his chin resting on your shoulder as he cuddled you against him. “Nah, I’m a bit… wired” He admitted

"You were plastered when you got here like an hour ago.." you mumbled. You had thought he would be wasted and fall asleep instantly, especially also fucking for almost an entire hour. So his words were a bit shocking.

He felt his face grow a little red at the mention of that, he’d been so drunk then, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he fell asleep as soon as he got comfortable. But now he was surprisingly wide awake, he couldn’t explain it, he just felt a bit restless. His hands gripped your waist a little tighter as he grunted a little in response to what you said.

“I dunno why I’m still awake” He mumbled even though he knew why. Guilt kept most people awake.

His eyes fixed on his own fingers, the movement of his hands as he traced lazy circles against your bare stomach. Part of him itched for a joint, he felt restless somehow, he was craving a bit of a distraction, something to take the edge off. He usually didn’t get like this, but then again, usually it was a lot easier for him to fall asleep, especially when he was with you like this. But right now, he just felt a kind of tension running through him, and he wasn’t sure how to get rid of it.

He shifted a little again, one of his legs tangling between yours. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like that he couldn’t get his mind to calm down. He thought about the joint again, that should help, it would make it easier for him to relax.

“I’m thinking, I’d like a joint right about now” He mused quietly, his voice a deep grumble against your skin as he spoke, his fingers still tracing circles against your stomach

"Yeah a joint would absolutely slap right now.." you nodded weakly at his words. A joint would help tame the guilt and the constricting feeling in your chest and stomach. That feeling faded when you had sex but now it was creeping back in. Out with the mind numbing orgasm and in with the self hatred. So weed it was, "think i have some weed hidden around here somewhere," you muttered once again.

“Damn, you got some good stuff hidden in here? You’ll have to show me where you store it” He chuckled, his fingers still tracing lazy shapes against your skin. He liked the idea of a joint, maybe it would mellow him out a bit, help him fall asleep, at least he hoped so.

He hadn’t been able to stop dwelling on the past and how much had changed and just how much he shouldn’t be here in your bed. The best way, of course, was to forget for a bit. Usual JJ coping mechanism.

He nuzzled his face against your shoulder again, his nose nuzzling against your exposed skin as he breathed in your scent. He knew it was stupid and risky being in here in your bed, he didn’t want to think about that. All he wanted to do right now was distract himself from the feelings and thoughts bouncing around his head.

He didn’t want to think about how things were different, how he should be your boyfriend, how he should be here with you and it not be a secret in the middle of the night.

"Dunno if it's good enough for you. Given you smoke weed like 4/20 is every day but—" you trailed off, your voice trailing into uncertainty as you slowly disentangled yourself from him. You moved with a hesitant grace, your body still humming with the residual heat of intimacy, and settled on the edge of the bed. With a careful hand, you gathered your t-shirt and underwear scattered on the floor. His shirt lay next to yours—a silent invitation you longed to accept, though you resisted the urge, not wanting to blur the lines of an already delicate boundary. It was already too intimate as it was.

You slipped into your own clothes—the familiar fabric grounding you—and, with a final reluctant glance at the space between you, you slid off the bed. Each step toward the dresser felt weighted with unspoken tension. Kneeling before it, you opened the bottom drawer and sifted through its contents until your fingers closed around a small tin box. Clutching it, you made your way back to the bed, sitting beside him.

He almost pouted in response to you untangling yourself from him, but he didn’t say anything, only watched you as you got off the bed, pulling a t-shirt and panties on, a small part of him wishing he could’ve seen you naked for longer.

He sat up in the bed, crossing his legs and resting his chin on one of his hands as he watched you kneel before the dresser, searching through it as you grabbed something from the bottom drawer. He couldn’t help but admire your ass a little as you knelt down. He had to.

He watched closely as you walked back to the bed, a small smile on his face as he looked at the tin box in your hands, guessing what was in it. He uncrossed his legs and patted the spot beside him, gesturing for you to sit by him and share what you found together

The small tin box was opened and JJ’s eyes immediately fell on the pre-rolled joint and half pack of Marlboro’s stashed away inside. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, he hadn’t fully expected you to have anything besides the joint, and he found himself impressed by your stash. It was also a bit of a surprise to see the pack of Marlboro’s in there, he knew you smoked regular cigarettes, but he didn’t think you’d have them stashed away with your weed.

He hummed and picked up the joint from inside the box, his fingers playing with the paper for a moment before speaking, his eyes fixed on the joint in his hand. “How come you’ve got cigs in here?” He asked, picking up the half empty pack of Marlboro’s and giving them a little wave, before looking up at you

"Marlboro's are good to smoke with a joint.." you smiled lightly as he shook the red pack of cigarettes. "My other pack is hidden in my purse.. can't have them out and about.." how ironic. Smoking was a secret as much as screwing around with JJ was.

He chuckled a little in response, putting the pack back into the tin box and picking up the joint as he laid himself back down, propping himself up with a few pillows behind him so he could sit up a little.

“You wouldn’t want a big shot like your boyfriend to find out you smoke, huh?” He teased, the joint held between his fingers as he looked up at you with a smirk on his face

"He says it's not feminine to smoke," you scoffed, your tone a blend of amusement and something akin to disgust. Your hand slipped into the familiar tin box, fingers closing around the lighter as if it were a an extension of you. Leaning in, you hovered over him just long enough to ignite the joint that rested between his lips—a delicate, intimate act that blurred the lines between challenge and tenderness. The flicker of the flame danced across his features, making his eyes sparkle and his features more sharper and breathtaking.

He chuckled around the joint as he took his first inhale, his lips closing around the tip of the joint as he inhaled the smoke, letting his tongue dart out to brush against the side of it as he finished taking a hit

“He sounds like a real prize” He teased as he took another quick inhale and let the smoke out, his eyes going to you as he passed the joint over to you with a smirk on his face.

You watched intently as he took the first drag, another amused scoff leaving your lips at his words, taking the joint from him eagerly. You brought it to your lips taking a long drag and holding the smoke in your lungs for a good moment before exhaling it. "Yeah you could say that.."

He watched you as you smoked, his eyelids lowered in a sort of lazy, half-lidded look. His eyes were fixed on the way your lips curved against the joint, how you took the hit, the way you exhaled. He knew it was wrong for him to even look at you like this. He knew how dangerous all of this was. And he hated it.

"Why do you even put up with him?" He asked, picking up the box and taking out a Marlboro for himself, his eyes still fixed on you

He lit the cigarette, putting the still burning joint on the ashtray you had handed him and placed between the 2 of you. He didn’t smoke cigarettes often, they weren’t really his preference. But it helped dull his frustration for the time being, so he wasn’t complaining.

"He isn’t the best guy in the world, so why do you bother staying with him?" He asked, looking straight at you this time, his eyes studying your face, searching for any sign of what you were truly thinking

"It's not a matter of if he's the best guy or not.." you grimaced almost imperceptibly, laying on your back next to him, a small distance between the 2 of you for the ash tray. You grabbed a cigarette before placing the tin box on your night stand, keeping the pack of cigarettes in your lap.

"Well, what is it then. Is it the money? I know his Daddy is swimming in it." He said, taking another drag of his cigarette. The bitterness was clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. He was jealous of your boyfriend. He was jealous of the fact that he had everything that JJ didn’t, and more. He had money, a good, proper family, decent behavior. JJ had none of that.

"Technically yeah.." you turned to side glance at him as you took a drag of your own cigarette, already feeling a bit dizzy when the nicotine and weed mixed together.

He couldn’t help the scoff that came from him at your response. It stung, it stung to know that you were staying with a douchebag because he had money. That you stayed with someone you didn’t actually like because you preferred the money he threw at you. It stung. JJ didn’t understand why though, he wouldn’t admit it, but it hurt. “So you stay with that tool for the money. You don’t actually love him?”

"God no.. Riley's good company.. sometimes. But I'm not after his money or company..." you grimaced again, tapping the cigarette gently to ash it. Your words felt a bit horrible if you thought about them. Given you were dating your boyfriend for almost 2 years now.

JJ couldn’t help the twinge of anger he felt. You were with a guy for 2 years, spending time with him, going on dates, probably doing other stuff as well, but you didn’t even like him. You just liked the money he had. While here he was, stuck with nothing and nobody. The anger was starting to become bitter resentment.

"So… what’re you with him for then? If you don’t care about the money or him?

"Cause... you know my parents.. they're really old friends with his.. and i guess it gives them a reason to combine their richness.." your frown deepened too as you spoke, taking another drag of the cigarette.

He could see your frown forming as you spoke, the words spilling out of your mouth. He hated it. Hated your parents, hated your relationship with your rich boyfriend, how you were so content with the shitty situation.

"So, you’re basically a trophy. A toy for your parents to show off" His words sounded harsher than he’d originally intended

Although technically it was kind of true you didn't like the wording of that fact. With the way they were planning on marrying you off this dude was kind of like melting 2 trophies together to create a big pile of gold. You opened your mouth to speak closing it again glaring at him slightly, "it's not that simple.. you don't even know the whole situation."

He almost bristled at your answer, his jaw clenching in frustration. You were right, he didn’t know the whole situation. And that was exactly his problem. He didn’t know why you stayed with your boyfriend, why you didn’t want to tell your parents to go screw themselves. Why couldn’t you just break up and be with him instead. JJ let out an angry exhale, another bitter scoff leaving his mouth

"Then why don’t you tell me then, princess?"

"Cause it doesn't matter, okay?" you grimaced once again, looking forward as you took another long drag from your cigarette.

He was even more pissed now, his irritation building more and more with each vague answer you gave him. He really hated when you did this. When you answered a question with a vague ass answer that left more questions than it gave answers. He stubbed his cigarette into the ash tray with more force than was necessary. He wasn’t going to keep being left in the dark by you. That wasn’t going to happen

"Bullshit it doesn’t matter! Why won’t you tell me?"

"Cause i thought this was supposed to be casual... we would fuck and then, i dunno.." god, you sounded like an asshole. Of course it wasn't casual, neither of you believed it, especially with your friendship looming over the whole ordeal like a big green monster. It made things more tangled than they would've been if JJ was a mere stranger. You like to pretend you weren't yourself when these things would happen, because you felt like another person. And yet you couldn't understand why JJ was here, putting up with your bullshit and vague answers.

He was even more hurt now, hearing you talk about your ‘relationship’ like it was nothing. He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything he knew he’d regret, he couldn’t get caught up in the shitty emotions he was feeling, he couldn’t get attached, he couldn’t do that to himself. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere, you’d made that clear. But that didn’t make it better. "So… this is nothing then." His voice was flat, the familiar bitter undertone of resentment in it.

"No... no, it's not nothing. But explaining isn't gonna help us okay? It never does.." you mumbled the last part, your anger turning into something akin to bitterness, mixed with the guilt of the whole situation, still holding the cigarette between your fingers.

He gritted his teeth, trying to stop himself from yelling. He knew arguing didn’t get either of you anywhere, but right now he was fed up, he was annoyed, he wanted answers, something, anything.

"I’m tired of you always giving me these vague ass answers. I’m tired of you just expecting me to accept whatever you give me because you know I’ll take it anyway."

"No, because if I explain the whole situation, you'll just try to find a way out of it—even when there isn't one. I know because I've tried, okay?" you spoke bitterly, your words laced with a simmering frustration that threatened to boil over. Irritation flared up once again, a familiar heat rising in your chest. With a sharp exhale, you stubbed out the cigarette into the ashtray, the smoldering ember crushed under your fingertips. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, a hazy veil that matched the tension thickening between you.

Sitting up a little straighter, you squared your shoulders, a silent declaration of your resolve even with your eyes glazed over by the remnants of the orgasm and the weed.

The silence that followed was palpable, broken only by the distant hum of cicadas outside and the ticking of your bedside clock that seemed to mock the passing time. You could feel his eyes on you, searching for cracks in your armor, but you refused to meet his gaze. The weight of unspoken words pressed down on you, each one a stone added to the burden you carried.

A knot tightened in your stomach as you wrestled with the myriad of emotions swirling within—frustration, hurt, a flicker of hope quickly extinguished by reality. The walls felt closer now, the room smaller, as if the very space conspired to force a confrontation you weren't ready to have. One that always ended up happening anyway.

He couldn’t keep the anger and bitterness from pouring into his voice now, he was too riled up for that.

"God, why do you always do this?! Just always assume that I’m gonna try something. What do you think I’m gonna do, hm? Find out the reason and then what? Try to find a way to get out of it? Try to win you over from your rich boy? Why do you think I’d do that?"

He stood now too, facing you head-on, frustrated and upset. He didn’t like how you just thought he was gonna try and sabotage your current relationship. He couldn’t help himself, he was too frustrated, and now his irritation was starting to manifest itself into anger.

"Do you honestly think I care that much about you dating some rich douche bag that I’d try and steal you away from him?"

"Then why do you wanna know the reasoning? what does it help you with?" you were hurt at his words. Of course, you were. It already wasn't easy for you and somehow JJ made it harder. He always did. You knew he was in the same place as you emotionally, but he just hid behind this stingy persona that some how hardened any soft emotion you had. So for the time being you'd bite back if that's what he wanted. You'd get to wallow about it later.

His expression softened momentarily in surprise at your response before hardening again almost immediately. He didn’t want to feel bad for you, and yet he did. He felt bad for you because he knew you were in that shitty, uncomfortable situation, because deep down he knew you didn’t actually want to be with your rich prick boyfriend.

"Because it’s infuriating to just be left in the dark all the time. Just to be forced into something I don’t know the context of"

"Hellooo..." you dragged out the word almost mockingly, "you knew the context of this situation. When we started this bullshit the context was pretty clear. 'We'd do it once' we said... and then we started making a habit out of it." you scoffed, crosing your legs under you as you sat straighter on the bed, "—and no one is forcing you.. it's not like I'm doing something you don't participate in.."

"God, you’re impossible. Do you honestly think I’d be here if I didn’t have some kind of feelings for you, huh? You think I’d keep coming back here every time, going along with this ‘arrangement’ as you so conveniently call it, if I didn’t?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to keep his voice level but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. The things you were saying were pissing him off. Greatly.

"That just makes it worse... feelings always complicate things. You think i don't care about any of this? shit, maybe if i was a heartless slut i wouldn't.." you mumbled chewing the inside of your cheek. It felt like your stomach constricted a little when he said he had feelings for you. It was relieving to hear you weren't the only one feeling something. But the hope stoked out because it was impossible and this wasn't a romance novel.

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat, almost scoffing at the fact that you thought feelings were what complicated things. Feelings were what made everything make sense to him. They explained why he kept letting himself into the shitty arrangement. Why he continued coming back when he knew it was breaking his heart.

"You think I care if things are complicated? If I didn’t feel anything, if I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t let you drag me deeper into this."

"You could at least be selfish. You usually are. So i don't understand why you don't think about yourself here? If i have to live this shitty life and feel like this, why do you have to too?" you stood up and walk over to him standing in front of him as he paced a little at the foot of your bed.

"I could say the same thing to you. Why do you let yourself live this shitty life? Why are you letting some rich douche control you, huh? If you don’t want to be in that shitty life, then why don’t you just change it?"

He was getting heated now, his voice rising as he spoke louder. And yet he didn’t care if this would wake up the rest of your family, he was too riled up to take that into consideration.

"Cause it's not that simple. None of this is. Out of the two of us you have the privilege to walk out and live your life like you wanna." you scoffed, shifting your irritated gaze to the side.

“Oh please. Don’t give me that bullshit. Out of the 2 of us, no matter what I still have it worse. So don’t even think about giving me that. I come from a shitty family with a shitstain of a father. I barely have enough money to keep myself afloat. At least you have the money to fall back on!”

He hated bringing up the money, but he was so sick of you acting like you had it worse than him. Like you were some sort of sad charity case when you had money and a family that actually gave a damn.

"That's not what i meant. I wasn't flaunting my money and family to you.. i know better than anyone the differences between us." you spoke, your voice softer this time. You felt bad suddenly, cause it was true—he did have it worse. Sometimes it made you wonder how something as beautiful as JJ got such a shitty deal in life. It was ridiculous how rotten and shitty you were, and you got such a pristine life while he was left with... whatever he could get.

He hated how soft your voice had gotten all of a sudden, making him immediately feel guilty for even bringing up the money. It wasn’t your fault his family was shittier than yours, and he felt like an ass for making you feel bad.

He stayed silent for a moment, looking down at the floor for a moment until he looked back up at you. Though his voice had lost the irritation from before and was replaced with something more bitter.

"You still didn’t answer my question. Why don’t you change your life then?"

"Cause it's not changeable okay? This shit runs deeper than any of this combined.." you gestured between the 2 of you, "sometimes i think cheating on my boyfriend is the best thing i can do for myself.." you mumbled bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest and gazing to your side again, at the ashtray with the barely touched joint on the bed.

When you mumbled that you thought cheating on your boyfriend was the best thing you could do for yourself, a scoff escaped his throat.

“That doesn’t make sense. How can cheating on him be the best thing when it’s something that’s tearing you up inside and making you hate yourself even more than I know you already do?”

"Cause at least it's something i wanna do. I wanna sleep with you. It's not like anyone is forcing me to be with you." you turned to him, furrowing your brows and letting a scoff of your own.

He didn’t know why, but something about the way you said that riled him up again. His body tensed and his face hardened into that expression he usually donned at the Boneyard when he saw something he didn’t like. That cold, emotionless facade that always had people pissing themselves when they saw it.

"Oh really, that’s why you cheat on your boyfriend, huh? Cuz you want to be with me. Because you want me this much. Right?”

You averted you gaze again, scowling to yourself. You weren't scared of him, hell you knew him since he was eating his boogers. You were just exhausted of arguing and falling into the same cycle. All of it because you couldn't stay friends when puberty hit. It was angering and sad.

"You never answer me when I ask that question. Whenever I ask if you actually want me, if you actually want what we have or if this is just a way to pass time. You always get silent or deflect. So, answer me for once. Do you want me? Do you want this?”

Maybe it was a bad idea to keep pushing, JJ already knew you wouldn’t answer but something inside him made him continue despite being a masochistic idiot.

"Do you think i'd be doing this if i didn't want you?. You think i use sex just to pass time?" you scoffed bitterly. You weren't surprised he thought that, after all you would act like a cruel bitch sometimes despite loving JJ more than you would ever admit to anyone, yourself included.

He couldn’t do anything other than scoff at your scoff as he ran his hand through his hair once more. Frustration coursing through his veins and his jaw clenched so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if his teeth cracked. He was tired of this. Having to ask you the same question and never getting an answer. Never knowing anything about what was going on in your head.

"You’re never direct with any of your answers, you always have to be vague or snarky. Can you blame me if I think that? You never actually tell me what you want from me.”

"I dunno okay? Sometimes i pray to God you just brush me off when i show up to your door drunk." you knitted your brows up in exhaustion. You knew, since your parents basically married you off to someone else, that you and JJ couldn't have anything. You convinced yourself that if he did casual hooking up with girls at parties, it would work in your case too. Spoiler alert: it was back firing more than you could handle.

Again, another vague response and once again, he felt his irritation spike. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as he felt the urge to scream from frustration, but instead, he just let out a scoff-like laugh.

"Of course, that’s your answer. ‘I dunno’, you never know.” He stepped towards you, narrowing his eyes at you. He didn’t care that his voice was borderline yelling and that it was a quiet summer night outside.

"You never know, no matter how many times I ask, you never know."

He got right in your face, closing whatever distance was between you two so that he was looking down directly into your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to look him in the eyes and actually speak to him for once without any vague answers.

"What do you want me to do? You want me to just blow you off? Ignore you completely? Not answer your calls and not give you the time of day anymore? You want me to do that, huh?”

"Well if you don't like this.." you shrugged, raising your brows and fixing him with your gaze, although a small part of you hoped he would take the words back and maybe you'd go back to smoking the joint and cuddling until the morning when he had to leave.

He hated it when you did that, when you looked up at him with that expression, so emotionless and vague. But he wasn’t a complete moron, and he could see the hints of hope in your eyes, despite it being barely noticeable. He was tempted, he was so completely tempted to just drop this and go back to smoking and snuggling. He always was. “No, no, answer me. That’s all I’m asking for. Tell me what you want.”

"I want things to be different okay? that's all i wanted and I'll want until i die. Sounds dramatic but it sums up this whole situation." god, someone who finally asked what you wanted, the wrong person at that, because you had no reason. You wanted to keep him here with you, and have him do this, repeat the cycle. But if you were him you'd get fed up too. Hell. you'd probably not take the bullshit you gave him.

He let out a frustrated huff as he once again ran his hand through his hair, pulling a little at the ends. How in the hell was he supposed to respond to that? How was he supposed to react to the fact that you were unhappy and that it was something they both couldn’t change?

“You can’t say that and just leave it at that, we both know that there’s a million different outcomes for how things could be different.”

"You don't understand that it can't be. It just can't. It's not as easy as breaking up with my boyfriend and dating you. Although that's what i wanted from the start of this." you looked up at him, scrunching up your face in sort of desperate expression, whisper shouting at him.

JJ felt his insides twist and turn, his frustration only getting worse. You didn’t even have the faintest of ideas about how much he wished that were actually a viable option. How he wanted to be able to wake up in the same bed as you and not have to worry about sneaking out the window in the middle of the night so no one saw.

"Well, yeah. I do understand that, that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it? I get that it’s not easy to just break it off with him and start dating me."

He clenched his jaw as he looked away from you, a part of him still desperately wishing he could grab you and kiss you right here, right now, and pretend that everything was fine. But he couldn’t, especially now, and he knew it.

"It’s more than just ‘not easy’ it’s pretty much impossible. Or at least impossible to change right now, I mean we still got one more year before graduation, and we both know that your parents aren’t just gonna let you ditch college prep for a life with me.”

"It's not like I'm going to a college that i wanna go to..." you mumbled, scoffing bitterly.

"That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you want, it’s what your parents want. And they don’t want some stupid pogue kid to ruin their perfect little college prep daughter’s future." he replied bitterly.

"Yeah it doesn't matter. It never does. It didn't matter when i told them i didn't want to date Riley and it won't when it comes to college or any other life plans. Because they have that all planned out. Hell, they probably planned my first kid already and I'm only 17." you turned your head back to him, scowling and raising your shoulders in a half shrug.

His heart ached at the expression on your face, you looked so damn miserable. So damn broken and defeated. But he knew that it was the truth. He had always known it, that your life would never be your own. That you’d be forced into the future your parents wanted for you, whether you liked it or not. And he knew there was nothing either of you could do about it.

"I know, princess. I know."

It was the pet name. That was his one big fatal flaw. Whenever he called you that he would instantly get this overwhelming need to protect you, hold you tight, and try and shield you from the rest of the damn world. And that was exactly what he did in that moment, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, holding you tight against him as if he could shield you from your shitty parent's influence.

You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck, despite the hostility and anger that was felt before the hug, your stomach doing a little flip at the softness in his eyes and the pet-name. A hug was probably some sort of mistake even if not directly, but you needed and he offered it and that's all you could get. So you'd gladly take it.

He held you close for several moments, letting himself savor the feeling of holding you again, relishing the feeling of running his hand through your hair and having you against his chest. Even if it was a mistake, he was happy to make it. Because all he wanted was to hold you, to hug and kiss and comfort you whenever he could. He just wished that things were different, that he didn’t have to be a little secret. But he was, and there was little he could do about that.

Eventually, he felt his will and self-control slowly but surely beginning to crumble. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew that, but goddammit, he was only human. He was a pogue, it wasn’t as if he had endless supplies of self-discipline.

He gently pulled you back onto the bed and laid down with you, letting out a soft sigh as he continued to run his hands through your hair and hold you close, one hand trailing down your spine.

You let him guide you back to the bed, laying back down with him after placing the ashtray with the stubbed out cigarettes and the barely touched joint as he wrapped and slipped his hand under your shirt, tracing the outline of your spine, your face buried in his chest.

He couldn’t help the way his hand traced its way up and down your spine, gently trailing his fingers down the smooth skin and feeling the bumps of your vertebrae. It helped keep his mind occupied, it was a nice distraction from the feeling of wanting to give in to his emotions and kiss you and shower you in all the attention you deserved. But he was also finding it harder and harder to fight that feeling, especially as he felt the warmth of your body against his chest, the feeling of your breath fanning across his collarbone. It was making him want to pull you closer and just hold you forever.

He was losing the fight against himself, and he knew it. But it was too difficult, it was too difficult to go this long without feeling you or holding you close. He just missed you, he missed you so incredibly much. And he hadn’t noticed that he was slowly starting to pull you even closer, almost as if he was pulling you on top of him. And he wasn’t even aware of the fact that his lips were gently trailing across your forehead, as if he was subconsciously craving the feeling of having you so close.

It always surprised you how gentle JJ could be, not only after arguments or sex. Just generally, and you were probably the only person who could say that and mean it. He just was. And it broke your heart a little every time he held and touched you like you were some kind of porcelain doll he treasured and wanted to gaze at. You knew that he'd be such a great boyfriend if you both had it differently. He would. A small part of you, the one that wasn't as selfish as the bigger one, hoped he'd find someone and ditch this situation you both kept sinking further down in. You'd just have to marry some man you didn't love and before you'd realized it you had became an alcoholic living in a shitty suburban home with a husband who cheated as much as you did. Although you wouldn't see Riley doing that, and he probably hadn't done it in the time you had been "dating."

JJ's hand continued its gentle tracing up and down your back, his touch was always strangely sweet and gentle. As if you were the most precious thing in the world to him, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt you. As if he was trying to savor these little moments of being able to touch you, to have you close, as if these little moments would suddenly disappear and never come again. Which, technically speaking, could happen. Anything was possible.

"Why do you do this to yourself..?" you asked quietly, playing with the small shark tooth necklace around his neck, your brows furrowed as you studied it.

JJ was taken off guard by the question, not expecting it. Why did he do this to himself? Because he was a stupid, selfish addict is why. An addict for you, at the very least. Despite knowing that this was all just some terrible mistake, he craved you so badly, that he couldn’t stop himself from giving in time and time again. So in a way, he was doing this to himself, he was the one getting himself into these stupid situations.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, not knowing what else he was supposed to say.

He leaned forward and rested his chin on top of your head, letting out a soft hum as his eyes fluttered shut. He was still holding you incredibly close, his arms wrapped tight around your waist, almost as if he was terrified that this would all slip through his fingers and you would be gone when he'd open his eyes.

“Why do you let me do this to myself?” He mumbled, trying to turn the question back on you.

"Because I'm selfish.. duh." you mumbled, wrapping one arm around his neck and resting it on his shoulder, a small bitter scoff leaving your mouth.

“Oh, I know that princess, I know that real damn well.” He hummed sarcastically, one hand slowly trailing up and down your bare back under your shirt.

“But why? You could easily find someone else, hell you could do a lot better than me.”

"You think i'd do this with someone else..? i take mindless sex in stride already." you chuckled dryly at his statement, of course he'd say that. He always did. In different words but essentially the same essence. And the truth was you were honest, if you did sleep with your boyfriend it would mindless and meaningless. You'd just rather get your self off instead of sleep with him. At least you'd come. "the same goes for you.. i think you could easily find someone less complicated and with less baggage."

He chuckled softly, his hand continuing to slowly move over your back, tracing up and down. “Yeah, of course I could. I’ve had people lining up and throwing themselves at me my whole life. I’ve just conveniently ignored every single one of them.”

He said bluntly, as if it was a ridiculous thing to think otherwise. Not that you didn’t already know him well enough to know that he wasn’t lying.

He let out a soft sigh as his hand stopped on your lower back, pressing you a little closer than you already were.

“I think… I think we’re both too screwed up to be with anyone else.” He mumbled, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

"A masochist and a cruel bitch with an emotional baggage that could easily crush him into alcoholism.. picture perfect couple material." you mumbled letting out another bitter laugh. You were still mindlessly playing with his necklace, your eyes trained on the shiny shark-tooth, sparkling once in a while in the dim light of your room.

He couldn’t stop the half laugh half scoff that escaped his lips at that. You were right of course, the two of you combined were a recipe for disaster. He tried to picture you, as a couple going on dates and holding hands and being happy and all that. It made him want to throw up in his mouth a little, a sort of anxiety settled in his stomach at the thought.

The hand he was using to trace your back came up to gently grab your hand, stopping you from playing with the necklace “Don’t do that, you’re gonna get it tangled up.”

JJ didn’t like it when you played with the necklace, it made him uncomfortable, nervous, the thought of someone else’s hands touching it, messing with it, made him more than a little uncomfortable and he would do damn well to never admit it. “And it’s an ugly necklace anyway, why do you always play with it?” He said, trying to play it cool, hide the nervousness he felt.

"Lemme play with it." you mumbled, furrowing your brows stubbornly as you moved your head to gaze at him, "and it's not ugly.. where did you even get that?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking down at you with a slightly annoyed expression, you always were a stubborn girl, it drove him crazy sometimes.

“Don’t be so stubborn, I don’t want it to get messed up.”

He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head back so that you were looking at him. To stop you from focusing on the necklace for a moment. “Someone gave it to me a long time ago, just don’t touch it."

"No-.. i meant where did you get the idea that it was ugly.." you sat up a little straighter to look at him curiously, "...but now you made me curious. Who's this person who gave it to you?"

He sighed. He really was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. The person who’d given it to him had to be a touchy subject, but he also knew you, and he knew that you wouldn’t let it rest until he told you who it was. As soon as he saw the look in your eyes, he knew you were going to keep bugging him until he told you, he just was too tired (and slightly drunk) to try and deny it anymore.

“Why do you want to know?”

"Just kinda curious is all.." you grimaced at how strange and secretive he was being, over a necklace which looked like it was bought from the souvenir shop on the highway reserved for tourons.

JJ huffed softly at your grimace, he knew his secrecy was going to seem suspicious. But at the same time, he also had a very good reason not to tell you who the necklace actually came from.

“..It was a friend. A long time ago.”

He mumbled, trying to keep his tone nonchalant, even and normal. But the way he was speaking, as if he was purposefully avoiding giving details was anything but normal and nonchalant.

JJ tensed up at the mention of her name, quickly becoming uncomfortable. He should’ve known you’d think it was Kiara, that the two of you were close, and it made sense.

“No. It wasn’t her.”

He mumbled, avoiding your eyes. His mind immediately going to the person who it really was, and the thought filled him with a feeling of anxiety. But it’s not like he could tell you the truth. "Why would think it was her?"

"—Cause Kiara looks at you like she's in love with you. And she is. And that's not a problem itself, if she wasn't hopping from John B to Pope and then realizing that the one she wants is you." you shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and his question was stupid. Because it was, you could tell by the way he stiffened under you slightly.

He didn’t really have a response to that. You were right, and he knew it. How was he supposed to say “yeah I know a girl is in love with me but I’m obsessed with a girl that’s in a relationship with someone else” without sounding like a scumbag?

He huffed again, turning his head and refusing to look at you. “..Why do you have to bring her up?”

"Cause it pisses me off how easily she got off the hook with it. She's my friend, yeah.. but it doesn't change the fact that she's a homie hopper and that in a way it made things awkward between all of us. Reason why i hang out with the group rarely now." your grimace turned into a scowl at your own words, your eyes directing it to your leg mindlessly.

JJ found himself grimacing again as you continued. You weren’t exactly wrong, in his eyes Kiara had pretty much gotten off the hook without a scratch. And he was too soft on her, not that she’d ever done anything to upset him personally, he understood why it annoyed you.

“..She’s just confused.. she doesn’t understand her own feelings.”

"Can you just.. not?" your scowl melted into a glare as you turned to glance at him, your voice low and uncomfortable.

He tensed again, his eyes narrowing at you as he met your glare. He felt slightly defensive suddenly, what the hell was your problem?

“How about you just not get pissy over every little thing you don’t like?”

"Oh, excuse me for getting pissy over your little Kie.." you scoffed incredulously at his words, voice dripping with sarcasm.

JJ clenched his jaw as you mocked Kiara’s nickname. Something about it struck a cord in him for some reason. He really shouldn’t care that you were making fun of a friend, but he did anyway and it was just pissing him off more. He rolled his eyes at you, his annoyance now fully directed towards you instead of just the topic of Kiara. “For god's sake why do you have to be so damn jealous all the time?”

"You call it jealousy, i call it being the only one in that group who's not head over heels in love with Kiara Carrera. For fuck's sake, you don't remember what she did to Pope, after also kissing John B? How was any of that normal? She slept with him knowing he was in love with her, and then decided to play the 'i wanna stay friends' card." the words came out before you could filter the resentment and bitterness out of them. It was stupid and it was more stupider JJ was being defensive of it. Showed you what kind of guy he was. Not that you were a better kind of girl inherently.

His expression darkened even more than before, his annoyance quickly turning to straight up anger. You were not gonna sit here and talk like that about Kiara, who was also one of his friends and had done nothing to you. Sure, she’d messed up, but everyone did sometimes. JJ knew that well enough. He didn’t bother trying to keep the venom out of his words as he spoke.

“You know what, you’re being a damn bitch. Yeah, Kiara made mistakes, but everyone does.”

You couldn't believe him, but then again you never could. So, it wasn't anything new that he was defending her to the heavens like that. You turned your head to the side, frowning and letting your eyes fall onto your window. You knew in a way, that if JJ was in love with her, that it would be better for him in a way. They had the perfect set-up for a friends-to-lovers thing. You and him were a shittier, much more toxic knockout version of the trope.

He clenched his jaw, his anger slowly growing. He noticed you looking out the window, avoiding his eyes, but he didn’t care. This stupid argument was starting to bother him enough to want to look your in the eyes and make you look back, but he also wasn’t gonna risk it turning into something more.. physical. He ran a hand over his face again, frustrated. “You know, maybe she is perfect for me. We’d probably make a hell of a lot more sense as a couple than whatever the hell you and I were.”

He immediately wanted to take the words back. It was a low-blow, and he knew it. He knew better than anyone just how hard it was to admit you and him would never be “officially” together. But he also couldn’t help it, you being a jealous idiot over Kiara of all people was infuriating and he was drunk enough to be angrier over it than he normally would be.

You felt the sting of the words like that one time when your mom slapped you when you were 14 for something stupid. Just like the slap, the words were fleeting and said out of anger, but what was worse was that they were, in fact true. You were thinking the same thing and he was voicing it out. You shouldn't care, not when you were such an asshole and dragging JJ into in your own pile of shit willingly. It still hurt you.

You tried to hide the sad frown that came over your face as soon as he said that by still avoiding his gaze. You weren't going to let him see your face, because with how emotionally drained and exhausted you were you'd just.. cry.

He immediately regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but once the words were there, they were impossible to take back. JJ felt his heart clench as he saw you try to hide your face from him, trying to make yourself seem unbothered. No matter how many times he saw it, he could always tell though. A part of him wanted to apologize, just apologize and tell you he didn’t mean it. But he didn’t.

He let the silence settle over both of you for a few moments more, not knowing what to say.

He sat silently for a few more long, drawn out moments before he spoke again. He knew he shouldn’t say it, but something in him felt like he needed to.

“I mean it, y’know. Kiara would be more of a proper girlfriend than you could ever be.. I wouldn't have to worry about her sneaking off to cheat on me.” He tried to sound convinced, but the words sounded half-hearted to his own ears.

Once he spoke the words, the reality of what he had just said settled in. His heart squeezed painfully, but he pushed the feeling aside and continued trying to convince himself.

“Hell, she’s probably better for me anyway. Doesn’t put me on edge like you do.. wouldn’t just disappear at the mention of her parents or your boyfriend..” He stopped himself, the words coming out in a quiet, bitter scoff. It shouldn’t sting to say, not when you were basically nothing to each other.

Of course he would say that. You knew he believed it, and in moments like these you didn't know why he was putting up with you then. If he wanted he'd probably get sex from her too. It wasn't like it was hard. So then why did JJ hang around you? It was always your biggest question, given you had your answer to it.

Your frown deepened even more, your lip sticking out a little, now that you were actually suppressing the urge to actually cry. It wasn't like that was the cruelest thing he said to you, but it was cruel enough to slowly set you off the edge into a free fall basically. You just were so angry and frustrated at everything and sometimes your body thought crying was what was best for it. You still didn't cry but you were damn near it.

Seeing your expression twisted painfully in his stomach again, but it wasn’t like he didn’t mean it. He knew things between you weren’t going anywhere, and yet he kept going back on you like a fool. So why didn’t he just admit it to himself, that you were both just playing with fire with these meetings?

He was just drunk and angry enough to keep going, to keep feeding the fire.

“She’s probably not even gonna go off to some fancy college and leave me behind, like you are..”

A pang of guilt flashed through him again after saying the words, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was the truth, after all. He wasn’t stupid. You were going to eventually go off to college and ditch all his stupid-ass friends and leave the life you had here behind. You had bigger things ahead of you, and you were definitely smart enough to achieve it. He was just some burnout loser who was probably gonna end up arrested or in an early grave.

By now you would've turned to him and told him to get the fuck out of your room and wherever he would sleep at, when he wasn't here or at John B's house. Screamed at him until he left through the window and then smoke the entire joint alone to cry yourself to sleep. But your mouth already felt watery, like when you'd hold tears and your stomach felt absolutely sick. A small sob escaped you and then it was like a match to a drizzle of gasoline. Your head dropped on top of your knees, your arms wrapped around it as you sobbed quietly. You knew it was dumb, and that he'd probably just get up and leave, too weirded out and not wanting to deal with it. You didn't know if that was good or not.

At the sound of you crying, all the fight that built up within JJ was suddenly gone.

Now that he did feel guilty. The sight of you made his heart clench in a way that felt almost physically painful, and he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. The last time he had seen you cry like that was when your dog died, and he knew it was usually only something like that that would reduce you to this.

But he was the one causing it this time.

He scooted closer to you, hesitating for a second before bringing an arm around your shoulders. It felt weird to do, and he knew you probably didn’t want him to. It reminded him of all those times when the two of you were kids, and he used to hold and comfort you after a nightmare or when you got hurt. How you would clutch his shirt and hide your face against him, knowing he would keep anything from hurting you.

He knew things weren’t the same anymore, but he still pulled you towards him either way..

He sat silently for a few moments, the sound of your quiet sobbing filling the room in a way that somehow made everything feel so wrong. He didn’t say anything, not really sure what to say. Part of him wanted to try and comfort you, tell you it was just a joke and it wasn’t actually true. But he knew that wasn’t the issue, that it was the fact that he wasn’t wrong. And you knew that.

He clenched his jaw again, his own words replaying in his head again.

“M’ sorry.. I didn’t mean it..” He said the words quietly, his heart clenching once more at the sound of your sobbing. It hurt to be the cause of these tears, the one to make you crumble and fall apart in such a way. Not for the first time he wondered how he ended up here, how he could’ve managed to destroy the one thing he’d ever loved. Well, it wasn’t really destroyed, yet..

And you didn't care because it didn't change the fact that the words were as true as the sky was blue. That wasn't the main reason you were crying. You were angry. At yourself, at your parents at everything. At the fact that your friendship was ruined by lust and other factors and that you had lost your best friend to. The only one you had, if you were honest with yourself. And you didn't do that. Not when you knew you were madly in love with him, or when most of you resentment towards Kiara was because she was in fact, the better option and probably the only one.

You palms were covering your face, crying into them softly at everything that was gnawing away at you up until that moment, your body not even registering that he was now next to you, comforting you just like when you were both kids.

It was strange - the way being with you again, the way holding and comforting you in such an intimate way took him right back to your childhood days. Back to when he would hold and comfort you after a bad day or a nightmare, you clinging to him and him relishing the feel of your body against his.

Except now it was different. You didn’t hug onto him like you used to, you didn’t bury your face against him. You were no longer the little girl he used to look after, and he was no longer the boy who would fix all your problems.

He felt like he needed to say something, to say anything. But every time he went to say anything, the words got stuck in his throat. The sight of you like this, so torn apart and broken - it made his stomach twist in a way that felt almost painful, and his heart ached for you like it never had before.

He clenched his jaw again, hating himself, hating the situation. He suddenly understood how the saying “I’d rather watch you walk away than watch you hate or cry” came to be.

He felt like a fool for letting himself get into this mess. For letting himself fall for you the way he did, for letting himself get attached like an idiot. He knew better than that. People like him didn’t get the girl, they were never supposed to.

He thought about all the times as a child like this you had held onto him, the way he would do anything to make you happy again, and he wondered why he couldn’t do that now, why he was so unable to just do something to make it better..

It was still surprising to you that he was still there. He wasn't doing or saying much, but he could've left. Especially with the harsh words he said. It was weird, confusing and it always made your mind flood with questions that you knew you wouldn't get an answer to. Your sobs weren't loud or anything but you were still crying, your face hidden in your knees. The awkward side hug wasn't doing anything to soothe you, and in the back of your mind you were thinking how stupid you looked, breaking down over some words that were true, despite being said so harshly.

The sight of you crying against your knees, trying to hide yourself from him as if he had never seen you cry before, it made his chest ache once more. He had seen you cry hundreds of times before, in all kinds of situations and circumstances, but somehow, this one was hitting him especially hard. Seeing you broken and crying like this, and knowing it was all his fault, hurt more than any of his father’s drunken blows to his face or his ribs.

He clenched his jaw again, taking a breath to steady himself before he spoke.

“Stop cryin’ sweetheart, m’ sorry..”

He didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what he could possibly say to make this better. Even the nickname slipped out before he could fully register it, reminding him of all those times he would use it to make you stop bawling as a child.

The sound of his voice made you actually raise your head to side glance at him, and by the look on his face you imagined how you looked. You furrowed your brows, as if questioning him about his words, your face going back to being buried in your knees, small hitched sobs escaping you from time to time as you cried.

The sight of you turning to look at him, your red puffy eyes meeting his own and making his chest clench, made him wonder if he had said something wrong. Should he repeat himself? Should he not say anything at all? He felt completely lost and stuck, like no matter what he did this situation could never be made better.

He hesitated for a moment before bringing up a hand to gently run through your hair, the same little thing he used to do all the time when you were little to soothe you.

He couldn’t help but recall those days when he used to sneak over in the later hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning. When you would cling to him like he was your lifeline, the only one keeping you from drowning, and sometimes he wondered if it was true. If he was the one keeping you afloat for so long.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, still running his hand through your hair. It was an attempt to give some sort of comfort to you as you cried..

The sobs died down after almost 10 more minutes of crying, raising your head to wipe the remnants of tears streaming down your face. Now that the tears had mellowed down, the sadness was replaced by a sense of shame at crying cause of some words that were said in an argument. That made you wonder how did you two let it get it so far and complicated. The sex, the arguments, the toxicity; it was all now defining your once beautiful childhood friendship. It felt like a joke, and a bad one at that. One that lacked a punchline or any humor.

You turned to look at him, still sniffling from time to time, "why are you still here?" you asked quietly, your voice a little broken and shaky still.

He took a breath, surprised at your question. He knew he probably should’ve left by now, it was clear you didn’t want him here anymore, and after what he had said he honestly wouldn’t blame you for it.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you here on your own like this, not when you were still so upset and clearly broken up. He had never been able to leave you alone and crying, not even once.

“..I ain’t gonna leave you like this..”

He ran his hand through your hair again, his expression almost sad as he looked at you. It was as if he was studying you, taking in your appearance as if he thought he might never see you again.

His heart was aching again, hating how broken up you looked and knowing that he was the cause of it. He remembered all those times when you would smile, laugh, laugh at him or just be happy, and he couldn’t recall if he had seen you like that for him in months..

"Wow.. thanks." you mumbled sarcastically, taking a deep breath to calm down fully, the inhale still sounding shaky and broken up.

He tensed a bit at your sarcastic comment, sighing in slight irritation. After everything, you still had that attitude on you, the same one that got you into this whole damned mess.

“Really?”

His voice was almost snappy, clearly irritated at your sarcastic comment. He didn’t move his hand from your hair, as if trying to make up for his tone with the soothing action.

"Yeah.." you smiled slightly although it didn't reach your puffy eyes, as if you were pleased with how the comment had rubbed him.

Another scoff left his mouth at your tone, his irritation growing more. This was always how you were though, stubborn and quick to anger him. He hated it, even when he knew you most likely did it on purpose.

“God, when are you gonna learn to knock that attitude off?” His hand kept running through your hair, even as he spoke to you.

"I don't have an attitude.." you muttered, sighing in resignation when sensing he was getting irritated at you again. The thirst to argue had died down completely with the tears and you were left with a sense of sickness and sadness. Regret at all the things that led to this.

That sarcastic attitude of yours again. He gritted his teeth, knowing that you were just being stubborn again, but he was still determined to try and calm down himself as he spoke.

“Yes you do. Ever since middle school that damn attitude of yours had gotten worse and worse.” His voice had a bitter sort of tone, almost resenting you for it.

His hand stilled in your hair, trying to ignore the thoughts that came to mind. Memories of the two of you growing up together, the way you would follow him around when you were younger, always by his side no matter what. Now look at the two of you. Fighting constantly, and hating each other for the most part. Hell, he even hated himself for the things he said to you.

His hand moved from your hair to your chin, gently turning your face to the side so you’d be facing him. He studied your face, taking in every detail of it, committing every feature to memory for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp..

“How’d we even get here, huh? How’d it end up like this..?” His voice was quiet, with a sort of longing to it.

"I have no idea.." you shrugged, chewing the inside of your cheek as you mulled over his words. How exactly did you two get here? you'd never stop saying that it was almost ridiculous; having something so pretty reduced to something as stupid as lust and toxicity.

He shook his head slight in response to your shrug, feeling a sort of anger bubble up inside of him. It was always the same, the same damn situation, no matter what. But he couldn’t help himself, no matter how much he tried to stop it, he was always going to want you…

“..Don’t give me that. You know how we got here, you’re as much to blame as I am..”

"Didn't say i wasn't.. -think most of the blame goes to me if I'm being honest.." you spoke evenly, fidgeting with your rings mindlessly.

He watched as you fidgeted with your rings, the sight strangely familiar. It was something you always did when you were nervous. He had seen you fidget like this so many times, before exams, when you were worried about something, hell you even did it back when you had your first date.

He huffed in response to your statement, his eyes focused on your hands and their fiddling. “..Why you saying that?..”

"Dunno.. most of the bullshit in my life is from my stupid decisions.." you raised your eyes to lock them with his, brows raising at the same time.

His gaze snapped back to your face when you looked back at him, meeting your eyes, taking a moment to register what you said before answering.

“..I’ve made plenty stupid decisions myself, you know that. Don’t go putting all the blame on yourself now, you weren’t the only one involved here..”

He paused a moment, the realization settling in as he spoke again.

“..You’re being too hard on yourself..” His voice was almost gentle, that hint of irritation from before gone. He hated that you always had to take the blame for things, even when it wasn’t your fault. He knew that you were just worried all the time, that you had anxiety about everything, and that even when things weren’t entirely your fault, you’d still blame yourself.

The way the former comment sounded. 'Involved', like it was a past situation you weren't part of anymore, like this whole thing between you was ending. Or had ended already. And you remembered his words about Kiara being better for him and how'd they make a more healthier couple than whatever you had going on; and it kinda clicked in your head. Maybe this was the time where you'd finally stop being selfish and bring everyone in your situations, "So, what now?" you settled on asking, the question being the less loaded one out of your brain.

His eyes were still on yours as he studied you, sensing the shift in mood, seeing the realization come over your face.

His own gut squeezed, knowing exactly what you were alluding to. But he wouldn’t admit it, wouldn’t admit that it sounded a little too much like an “end”. He didn’t want to think about it like that, didn’t want to admit that he might be losing you for real..

He took a moment to answer your question, his voice still gentle. “..What do you mean..?”

He raised his hand to your face, softly brushing a piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. Part of him wanted to hold you tighter, pull you against his chest and never let go again. But the other part, the logical one, told him that this needed to end, that there was no point in keeping up a facade of some thing that was bound to fall apart regardless..

"You know what i mean.. you said some things that hinted at something and i wanna know what you're planning on doing from now on.." you sighed, looking at him with a mix of sadness and determination, your eyes raking over his face in the dim lighting of your room.

JJ looked away from you, his jaw tense. The sadness and determination in your eyes made his heart hurt, and he knew what you were hinting at. But he kept telling himself that it wasn’t like that, not really.

He was quiet for a second, trying to find the words, when suddenly he felt a wave of drunken honesty hit him.

“..It’s not like we can keep on doing this forever, you know...”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and for a moment he looked vulnerable, the cool nonchalance of before gone as he met your gaze again. His hand was still gently cupping your face, his thumb softly rubbing against your skin as a wave of emotions took over him.

“Eventually it’s gonna get too complicated, too messy. We’ll get caught, or you’re gonna stop looking for some stupid thrill to do when your boyfriend pisses you off and you remember you have a good ole boy toy waiting on the side..”

"This was never about the thrill of it.." you muttered, your face twisted into an almost offended look.

“Bullshit-“ He said it before he could stop himself, and he immediately regretted it as he watched your expression, but a part of him still couldn’t bite the words back.

“..C’mon, you tellin’ me that you’re sneaking out to be with me cause your in love with me and not cause you get some sort of thrill out of this?” He spoke in a sardonic tone.

He knew he was crossing a line, but the alcohol was still coursing through his veins and he couldn’t help himself.

“You’ve got a boyfriend that you already said you care for enough to consider marrying, hell you’ve got more than enough reasons to stop hooking up with me.”

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself at this point, but the words just kept falling from his lips like earlier, like word vomit.

"I am not considering marrying him.. it's not up to me, and it doesn't matter who I'm in love with. Not to my parents anyway.." you shook your head in slight disbelief at his words.

It took a moment for your statement to sink in, the realization that your parents didn’t care who you actually cared for..

A pang of anger, or maybe jealousy, went through him at the thought, and he found himself pushing further.

“Exactly.. you don’t actually get to choose anyway, so why bother hooking up behind his back? Is it just some kind of stupid form of rebellion..”

"If i told you that i loved you and it wasn't some sort of rebellion what would you say?" you asked bluntly, too worked up now to stop saying the words you were trying to hold back for the sake of not making the situation more messier than it already was.

JJ’s eyes widened in surprise at your blunt question, part of him not expecting to actually get an admission from you. He was silent for a long moment, just looking at you, taking in the words you just said.

“..I’d say you’re lying to yourself,” he said quietly, his eyes holding a challenge in them as he refused to look away from you.

You shook your head chewing on the inside of your cheek, fixing him with your gaze silently. This was probably the only time in your life where you weren't lying to yourself. But it seemed like he didn't believe you. Or just didn't want to.

His jaw tensed slightly as he saw how genuine your expression was. He wanted to believe you, but for some reason part of him was still hesitant, still needed more.

“Say I actually believed you.. what would that change? You’ve still got a boyfriend, and your parents..” He stopped, his gaze hardening slightly.

"The way you think i look at this situation... i don't do it cause i get a kick out of it." you shrugged, a sense of desperation lingering in your voice.

JJ’s expression softened slightly, a pang of guilt going through him at the tone of your voice.

“..if it’s not because you’re getting off on it… then why do you do it, huh? Why do you keep going back to me if you don’t even love me?”

"That's what I'm trying to tell you... that's the reason why i keep coming back. But you obviously can't wrap your head around the fact that i actually care about you, as if we weren't friends for so long before this." your face contorted into the desperate expression even more, gesturing a little as you whispered at him.

JJ’s expression darkened at your statement, his body tensing up. He didn’t respond for a long, drawn out moment, still reeling from the words you had said.

“..bullshit. You don’t get to say that you care about me. We aren’t friends like we used to be, we’re.. something else entirely. And don’t even think for a second that I buy what you’re saying. Because you don’t actually care about me.”

"Okay then leave." you whispered softly, your expression hardening as he brushed off your admission and words, too exhausted to argue or scream at each other, especially since it was the early morning now. “Gladly.” He sneered, his expression dark as he pushed himself off the bed, moving towards the window after putting his clothes and shoes back on in a infuriated hurry. But before he left, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back at you one last time, his expression becoming almost soft and vulnerable again

“…You know that I care about you too.”

He said quietly, the confession slipping out before he climbed out the window. JJ made his way back to his house, the cold air biting his skin and sobering him up a little too much for his liking. But the night air couldn’t stop his mind from spinning, going over the words you had whispered to him, over and over like a broken record..

Bye lmao, i went thru like 3000 emotions while re-writing and editing this. Here's smut, i guess? this is the most angstiest smut ever written prolly. Let me know ur thoughts and if you want a part 2 to this one too. I promise summer was my first love is also getting another chapter.

Tag-list*:･ﾟ✧ @cali-888, @bee-43, @jjscoquette, @melsbels-zip, @stanseventeen

Divider credits:✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ @strangergraphics, @cafekitsune

[bismuthburnsblue]

THE STAYS ARE FINISHED!!!!

I still have to bury a bunch of threads, and I might add a lining in at some point, but functionally!!! They're done!!!

I've summarised everything I did for them below the cut, but!!!!! ah I'm so happy. It's my first time making stays & I'm pretty pleased with the outcome! I'm sure ill find things I want to change some day but for now... yeah I did good

I started off with redthreaded's 1750s stays pattern, but I ended up making a variety of modifications to it, so if you follow the same pattern, yours wont look exactly like this.

from most to least drastic, here's what I did:

completely moved the seam between the side front and side back to more accurately reflect historical patterns

realigned the tabs to be even again after I changed the pattern pieces

redrew most of the boning channels- partly because of my seam change, and partly to angle the bones towards the centre more as i thought the front panel stayed too vertical

took in more on the seams around the bust to fit me better

raised the height of the back panels (for no particular reason, I just liked it)

(heres that side seam!)

I made my stays from three layers- my fashion layer, a cotton drill & a coutil to form the structure, and I used light steel bones to bone the entire thing- as I said as I was making it, I've never found synthetic options offer the support I need.

I bound the entire thing with bias binding to match the light parts of the motifs, keeping it as narrow as I felt I could get away with. The tabs were sewn entirely by hand, right and wrong side, and the top edge was hand sewn on the second side. Overall, it took me about 19 hours to do!

The eyelets are all metal except for the four for the straps, which I sewed by hand, since they're far more visible. It was my first time hand sewing eyelets, and I'm pretty happy with how I did :) The ribbon is a placeholder, but I'm not sure what colour to get for the real ones yet.

The back is spiral laced, as was the historical standard- I probably marked them a little closer than needed, but I like the look of it all the same. I've been lacing them upwards as I've found I need the tension around the waist more than the bust. It makes it harder to lace on my own (or at least securing the knot anyway) but I did manage to do it by pulling the lace firmly, then tying a knot, then loosening it back down evenly again.

The horizontal bone is removable- I made the channel by sewing a piece of twill tape (folded in half, but only because that was the width I already had. The bone sits next to the fabric) along the marked lines. The channel went right into the armpit, so I caught one end under the binding, but tucked the other side of the binding under the twill tape (I'd left it a little loose at the end to make this possible) i then hand tacked the end down, leaving open the short side so I can slot in the bone. It's kind of dirty, but I think it should function- there's enough tension through the curve of the channel that I don't think it'll slide back out, but if I have issues ill find a way to secure it in. The bone I've cut is actually a tiny bit too long, as I have to trim that down at some point, as it's almost out enough to poke me.

I think I want to make some pads to support my bust at some point. The stays fit really well after all my modifications, but I don't have a whole ton to work with, and I feel like I could do with a bit more in the front of the stays to really hold everything how I'd like it to be (at least for this costume, anyway) At the moment it almost acts like a binder on me, which whole cool, is not the look I want.

I'm just! I'm so happy with how these came out. When I bought this fabric two years ago, I knew I wanted to make a pair of stays with it, but they've come out better than I could have ever imagined. I'm so proud of myself and what I achieved here, and I'm glad I put in all the extra work into these, instead of just rushing through something to have the garment for the rest of my costume. I think I made something here that stands on its own. I'm just... really proud. I'm going to bask in the glory of these for a while, I think.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

The Tragedy of What Was (pt. 2)

masterlink

A/N: yeah no yall im alive yet have no life (school and life are coming for me). im so sorry it's literally been MONTHS but uhm here is whatever this is. Transaltions are at the end for the german words (pls dont kill me i used google translate) pls pls let me know your thoughts:)

warnings: unintended self harm, allusions to depression, bad grammar and spelling.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Wistful wind caressed your strands as it fleeted through your hair. The Geneva winds were kind on the sunny day as you sat on the cherry brown bench. Pen and leather-bound journal in hand, the words on your page turned blurry when your focus shifted.

The new metropolitan park was not too busy during the midday, which was likely the cause of your attention shift. A few feet in front of your feet, a deep charcoal grey pigeon rested awkwardly due to its pain in its left wing. The angle of the wing was unnatural, but you knew not from vision but feel. The alignment of the bones was all wrong, and it pierced through the status quo of the bird's natural gravity. Quiet, weeping chirps were all the poor creature could manage.

Your grip on your journal tightened as you focused on the world and air around you. A breath in, and it felt like surfing on smooth liquid; you felt all the slight crevices and edges of the snapped bones in the pigeon’s wing. A breath out, paired with a sharp call of pain, and the wing was returned to its natural state. You watched as its yellow beady eyes scanned in amazement while it flapped its wings over and over again, testing out the sudden fix.

Within a few moments, the small creature trusted your care enough to take flight, a successful venture that brought a satisfied smile to your lips. Even if small, it brought you a special kind of warmth to know you helped just one living creature live life a little easier. You didn't interact much with people, so your "patients" were often the concerning amount of injured animals who occupied the various cities across the globe you were dragged along to.

It was an odd life you walked in. Your days were spent in peaceful parks, calm cafes, and buzzing bookshops. So surrounded by life, yet you felt you lacked one of your own. Your train of thoughts was starting to buzz in a headache, but you were never good at regulating yourself as the spiral began. The years of a singular chase — Sebastian Shaw — were coming to an end as each lead got you and Erik oh so close. A thought that should have made you happy but only had your body feel unbearable with the weight of your anxiety about the future. You had no proper education as your childhood was spent moving from place to place. Those days after the camps.

The breath you were seemingly holding let itself out in a painful escape. You needed to clear your mind of such consuming thoughts or at least do it in a fashion that did not play into your body's instinct to cause self-agony. The more you tried to stop, the more the pain in your skull intensified. Flashes of knives, sounds of buzzing, and hands — crack! One tiny little burst in the rough surface of your skull. A pattern that would have likely continued if not for the rough voice breaking you out of the tunnel of misery you were sure to experience.

"And how many birds have to thank you today?"

Erik's impressive height had you turning your head upwards, ignoring the pain raging through your head. He wasn't ignorant to your tendencies, but rather the intensity of the involuntary reactions. So you tried your best to hide it behind a smile and harshly crinkled eyes hidden behind a chic pair of white sunglasses.

"I'm not one to keep count, but if you must know... four. I'm starting to get concerned about how many I've had to help out."

You get off the bench and walk beside your older brother as he lightly scoffs at your response. You quickly pack away your very light leather-bound notebook, the mass you manipulated a long time ago to make it easier to carry around.

"The reach of humanity's cruelty is not surprising."

Even behind the dark-lensed glasses and Erik looking forward towards the busy street, you made a show of rolling your eyes.

"All this talk, yet I don't see you protesting for birds' rights."

It was then his turn to roll his eyes as his rigid posture made its way across the newly paved crosswalk. He never said a word of where he was taking you two, but that wasn't a new aspect of your very complicated brother. You could only assume it was back to the hotel you rented out only yesterday so you could check out and travel to yet another place on your wild goose chase. The globe-trotting would have been endearing if it wasn't fueled and caged within the confines of brutal revenge. A revenge you have rarely taken part in as Erik deliberately left you behind on his deliberation missions.

You weren't bloodthirsty like Erik, not that you blamed him. He took the hits twice as hard, once for himself and once for you. Though he could not stop all the attacks; reality still drew its blood. Suddenly, you realized that Erik had yet to elaborate on his meeting with the Nazi associate at the bank. You stared at him expectantly. He couldn't feel glances and other movements as tangibly as you, but you knew this wasn't ignorance.

"So..."

The tall man took a short look to his left toward you to silence any pestering questions when he was taken aback.

"Are those new glasses?"

You ignored him swiftly, fighting the twitching need to adjust them. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"That's the third pair in a month, Y/N."

"Argentina. I've been saying this for how long?"

"Y/N." His tone was grave and pertinent, but you couldn't succumb. You didn't want to acknowledge the truth, so you kept up your mask of smugness.

"I think this confirms that I indeed do have a second mutation that lets me see the future."

All cheery brags were halted, as was the entirety of your body. You kept your eyes forward as your weak defense, in the form of the cream-colored cat-eye glasses, was swept away and pulled effortlessly into Erik's calloused fingers.

Trying and failing, you hissed in pain as the afternoon light burned through each river of blood splattering your eyes.

You hissed as the sunlight stung your eyes. In an instant, the intense light dimmed as your eyelids shut in an effort to protect your sensitive irises. You walked so perfectly and casually that no one would even realize you had no vision. The vibrant feeling of every object and organism called out, guiding you along the way. One good thing about shutting out the visual world was avoiding Erik's disapproving glare.

"Why are you wearing these?"

Eyes still shut, the invisible strings pulling on every fighting molecule tugged the now slightly broken accessory. It was incorrectly angled, a problem likely caused by Erik's careless and harsh grip. You really liked that pair. Though that wasn't much of the reason why frustration began swirling in your heavy sighs.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the little fact that my eyes are blood-busted? Who would have thought having nerves that self-explode would cause some sensitivity!" you grumbled. "Stop thinking I'm ashamed of my mutation, Erik. My injury makes me sensitive, and while the sun burns the normal retina, it boils me alive. It's a shield from the sun, not my identity. Like I've been explaining for the past decade."

You muttered the last part, feeling a slight insecurity. Over the years, your vision had cleared up, but you still had the scars. Swirling snakes of crimson still slithered in your glassy orbs, even all these years later. Your body and mind grew, yet those eyes remained the same. A symbol of a scared little girl. One who couldn't hurt a fly but could shatter each one of her bones in an instant.

Erik huffed as if he didn't fully believe you, which he likely didn't. He doubted the only thing bothering you about your eyes was the pain and not what caused it. "Something is still bothering you. Your eyes have been more sensitive than usual, isn't that so? You keep breaking glasses."

You opened your mouth to argue when he hit you with an argument you couldn't deny.

"The air around you is suffocating at night when I come back or wake up early. Like when we first left the camps."

You felt your heavy breaths settle uncomfortably in your paused lungs. Swiftly, the fashionable glasses were back on your pretty face. They were only a centimeter crooked. A lone tear protruded from your lacrimal and slid solemnly down your cheek. Erik felt the atmosphere becoming colder, even though there had been no shift in the general temperature. He knew you wanted the conversation to end, but you couldn't keep ignoring whatever was eating you alive because, one of these days, it would physically crush you. Your emotions had been playing roulette with your psyche and connected body for far too long to keep getting empty bullets.

The looming hotel leered from above you as you walked through the shiny revolving door effortlessly. Your strides were far shorter than Erik's long legs, but you were stubborn. A trait that he dreaded being on the other side of. Finally, your legs were forced to pause their march as you awaited the luxury elevators.

"What is it that you cannot talk to me about?"

Dark-lensed glasses still on inside the artificially lit hotel, you kept your head forward. The air still acted like guards from Erik's inquisition.

"So, Argentina?"

The tall man huffed, knowing if he pushed any further, you would push yourself into a new set of injuries. Numerous past experiences taught him the extent of your uncontrollability.

"We are leaving tonight. Pack your bags."

Ding!

"Never have enough time to unpack anyways."

And with that, you slipped through the doors of the gold-encrusted elevator.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

The Argentinian sun rays were blissful upon your skin—a welcoming feeling after the odd prickles of discomfort dancing upon your goosebumps. Though the break was short-lived. Following the same pattern you had since the '40s, as soon as your feet touched foreign ground, Erik went off on his own. As you walked across the dirt and stone streets of the small rural town, surrounded by beautifully secluded mountains and lush greenery, you felt just as grown as you did when you were 10. The feeling of uselessness was one you had never gotten used to—just one item on the exhausting list. Self-pity had never done you any good, so the tiny, warmly inviting shop seemed like a good distraction.

Your deep maroon leather notebook had filled its last pages, much to your irritation, on the plane ride over. Writing was always your one sure cure for clarity, and you wrote as much as you could in the metal contraption flying unnaturally through the air. You felt everything too vividly, and it suffocated you. You often wondered whether or not Erik enjoyed being surrounded by so much power, though you never managed enough courage to ask.

The colorful bells rang above your head as you smiled at the dark-haired, pretty woman behind the counter. Walking straight into the nearest aisle to avoid conversation, it found you regardless. As you were taking off your glasses to observe your surroundings, you found yourself right in front of what you were searching for—an array of bound journals shining beneath the sunlight. Squinting to adjust to the light change, you realized that your sudden stop wasn't due to a wall but rather a middle-aged man with fair brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a thick mustache.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden collision. The sight of your reaction caused the man’s own eyes to mirror your expression. It was hard not to feel ashamed and timid as he took his time gawking.

Turning away, you focused on a rich blue version of the journal you already had. The urge to hide from his stare behind your glasses tugged at your heart while your fingers shakily grasped the journal. The look in his eyes reminded you of men so sinister they transcended the bounds of the moniker.

“Do not be ashamed, leibling.”

The roughness in his aged voice was oddly laced with a smooth layer of reassurance. The warm blood flowing in your veins halted at the term of endearment. He caught onto your surprise and gave a sigh of acknowledgment.

“I can always tell a beauty from the motherland. Far too many have been running away here. Though that would make me a hypocrite, no?”

You looked at the unnerving man. Keeping silent would only do you more harm than good.

“I was not sure I was so noticeable.”

You didn’t want to be. You never were. All you wished was to be in those lush fields you saw on your way here. Away. Far away from the watchful eyes of those gray memories.

“I am not here to stay. Business trip with my brother.”

The sound of your stutters in your mother tongue made you cringe. It had been so long since you’d had a lasting conversation with someone in German. The only times you ever practiced it consistently were in your writings and mutterings to yourself. Erik stopped using it with you a few years after you turned your back on Auschwitz. Only in anger did the tongue of your lineage emerge.

The man took in your answers, stepping closer into your personal space.

“Ah, I am impressed with a man serving his people. The ones of true worth, not those cowards letting our land be split apart by those Americans and communists.”

You could feel the spit and hatred mix together as he spoke. The tubes stationed within your throat felt constricting. The work and people the man was referring to sickened you. It disgusted you that you could so easily be mixed up with your torturers. Self-hatred settled itself on the six inked numbers on your left forearm.

“Your father, where was he stationed?”

The dark numbers and darker memories felt as if they would burn their way through your thin sleeves and lies. The gulp in your throat reverberated through your weak, trembling body.

“Auschwitz.”

Your tone was as grave as the site. As grave as the one your father deserved instead of the trick of a shower. Muscles around your eyes yearned to twitch. Your forearm felt as if it were being carved all over again, this time with shame instead of ink.

An amused laugh scratched its way past his lips. He cackled.

“A man of honor. Tell him and your brother to visit the bar just outside of town. He shall be met with the last men of purpose.”

The contents of the aisle spun around your vision as the man clasped your shoulder and walked past. There would be no need to tell Erik of the small bar. You knew he was already there and would be the last man to leave alive. So much for those great “men of honor.”

Maybe if you had even tried to shift your focus onto anything else, you wouldn’t have had a mountain of emotion embodying itself on your shoulders. But you had given up on that battle a long time ago. The last time you tried, you nearly split your brain physically in half.

In the meantime, you tried to walk out of the shop quietly, but you heard the splintering of the wooden door as your panic did what it does best—ruining its surroundings. You had no choice but to run to your small hotel room, as if any slower steps would leave you sinking into the earth. A new place on the wide planet, the same stares and distress.

Making it to your room, you should have known better than to collapse on your bed, as it did just that—collapse beneath the weight of your turmoil. You could feel the pricks of wood and springs, but you could focus on healing later. Right now, all your mind could replay were insistent flashbacks. That man from the store shape-shifted in your memory to endless faces of torturers. The countless men and women who looked at your small body, not as a child, but as a simple experiment.

Number 214783.

Screams ripped past your resistant cords as scratch after scratch cemented themselves temporarily into the permanent mark of your worth. Of your place.

It was several hours later, in the darkness of night, when your gravitational sense felt a resistance. A resistance that naturally came after one of your breakdowns. And as always, it was Erik who was trying to push against your invisible walls.

You made no move to open the door he was so insistent on bending to his will through mere strength. The room was pitch black, and you were covered in debris when Erik finally managed to get through the stiff gravity. He didn’t need to turn on the lights to know what he would see. Yet, the artificial lighting burned your retinas anyway.

“Whatever this is, it isn’t healthy. Why don’t you let me help you, Liebling?”

The nickname made you flinch—a movement visible as the debris surrounding you did a little shake in apprehension. You manipulated your gravity to ease yourself onto your feet and look around at yet another mess you caused. You could feel a bit of stabbing in your shoulders from wooden splinters, but those were quickly sorted out as you used your mutation to clean the chaos out of your body and off the floor. With too much ease from too much practice, you were able to get the bed back into a condition good enough for use. You really wished you’d gotten the journal before you had your breakdown.

“Y/N—”

“Is this what my life is?”

Erik Lensherr is not a man of many words, but that does not mean he gets speechless. He seldom does, but this was one of the rare moments. You stared out the window at the dim lighting dancing in the town center.

“Just following you around, doing all the real work while I sit here and destroy everything I touch?”

“That can be controlled. You losing your life cannot. We’ve talked about this before, and the answer is still no.” Erik’s firm voice only seemed to infuriate you further. Is this what the edge felt like?

“What life?! I am sick of being sick! I am getting hurt doing nothing; at least let me do so while doing something worthwhile.”

“You are doing something worthwhile by making sure Mama’s daughter lives! I am not disappointing her by letting you do something so reckless.”

This was meant to make you back down. Echoes of the same message from all the years flowed through your ears, but all you could hear was the ringing of anger and a migraine.

“You speak of making her proud? How about I avenge her?! She was my mother too!”

“I can do it enough for the both of us!”

You could feel the metal shake before you saw it happen around you. The keys, the lights, that accursed coin. The look of horror on your face snapped Erik out of his fit of anger, bringing him back to his senses—a trait of his you have always been envious of.

There was no more point in arguing. There didn’t feel like much point to anything lately. You laid down gently on the bed this time, not even bothering with the blanket, simply turning your back to the one person who claimed to love you.

“Liebling. Please, I am only worried about you.”

You left his confession to mingle with your silence as you closed your eyes. It would only be a matter of time before Shaw would have to face the Lensherr wrath. Not just Erik’s, but as you swore to yourself, yours too.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Turns out that moment came far sooner than expected. After yet another trip, you expected it to be one that blended into all the others. That was until you caught onto the tension surrounding your brother. You kept your eyes down on the small book you managed to snatch from the lobby downstairs. In the corner of your eye, you saw him in a fully black outfit, seemingly ready for a swim. He grabbed an overcoat, and before he left the room without saying a word about his whereabouts, he turned to you.

“Tonight, we make our parents proud.” He closed the door in your face.

You had only moments for action. He was right. You both would make your parents proud.

One look at your outfit and it was clear you did not plan for the assassination of a former Nazi official. With a sleek pair of brown slacks and a black turtleneck, you were at least grateful it was dark and warm enough for the cold night air.

Erik’s tall frame was easy enough to follow, though his constant scouring behind him and around made it a constant game of hide and (hopefully) no seeking. After the 20-minute chase, the ultimate destination presented itself. A lit-up yacht was lounging restfully upon the languid water. A deep breath, a jump, and Erik landed in the water. Not a moment was wasted as he made his way through the cold, dark liquid. If he was making his way, then you needed to.

All you wanted to do was scream as the temperature began seeping into your veins, but if you stood around in discomfort, it would overcome you. You didn’t have much experience swimming, but you used your mutation to glide without much hardship.

The megaboat presented itself far too quickly for your taste, as did Erik’s jump onto the surface. A man so focused was rare to see, but it was clear, even from your lowered position, that only one thing was playing in his brain. You swam to the very edge of the boat by the ladder, and that’s where you witnessed the knives being pulled by your brother. Even more so, the symbol engraved on it. Sebastian Shaw was going to die by his own legacy.

You had just jumped onto the boat when Erik’s frame entered the boat lighting and Shaw’s sight.

“Herr Doktor.” The man—the monster—had finally come face-to-face with his own monstrous creation. No fear seemed to present itself in his voice, though, as he only greeted Erik with an odd surprise of delight.

“Little Erik Lensherr.”

Even though the knife was on full display, his blonde companion was quick to broadcast his intentions. “He is here to kill you… and he isn’t alone.”

Well, that wasn’t planned. With no choice but to come out, you realized that you were grossly unprepared. You brought no weapon other than your mutation’s unpredictability. Though, as you came face-to-face with the man who had haunted every thought you’ve had since you were six, you were certain that a chaotic outburst wasn’t too far away. Hopefully, you could aim it this time. As surprised as Shaw was, it was nothing compared to Erik’s surprise. Maybe you should have just stayed at the hotel.

“Ah! Two makes a party! It’s a shame that, even grown up, you haven’t learned manners. Come on now, this is not the type of greeting. After all these years?”

Suddenly, piercing scratches engraved their way through your ear canals and into your brain. Sounds of drilling, shrieks, and electricity all began buzzing and mixing together as one face came into focus: Sebastian Shaw and his sick satisfaction at your torture, which he labeled “experiment.” You noticed Erik was on his knees yet broke free and took his chance by throwing the knife, guiding it through his own mutation. This break of focus by Emma Frost gave you liberation of your own mind and the opportunity to strike.

As Emma flung Erik over the boat’s edge, you took your time to fight back. In her diamond form, you swung into the air, hitting no target with your physical knuckles but using the gravity around her to make your impact, seeing a satisfying crack in her diamond coating.

“Well! Young Y/N fighting back!” Shaw's disgustingly gleeful voice rang through the air, distracting you just enough for Emma to nearly repeat the same move she used on your brother. But you were fast. Grabbing her arm, you used a few moves you managed to learn from Erik's very limited fighting lessons. Kicking her firmly in the stomach was enough to deceive you into believing you had a chance—until coast guard lights began lighting up your scene. Even with spotlights on you, you weren't going to let your shot at Shaw miss.

You fully lunged for the despicable man, until suddenly your feet were no longer touching the ground. Looking down, you saw the boat at least 40 feet below you, and as you turned your head upwards, you were met with a devilish face snarking back at you.

“He doesn't need two of you.”

You were no stranger to pain. Crushing, slicing, and even nerve-shocking pain were unfortunate realities of your mutation. But the feeling of stabbing was different—not a thousand little pricks, but a clean slice across your stomach. As was the sensation of it being ruptured and invaded by the dropping air, as the grip on the front of your black sweater let go. You could hear metal rampaging through the yacht, knowing Erik was doing what he was bred for: pain and destruction. While you were doing what you were bred for: failure embodied on a chopping block.

Your mutation worked instinctively to protect you from death upon impact, but the frigidness seeped into your wounds as crimson began coating the already dark waves. Even with the softened impact, your lungs still had the air knocked out of them, which you naturally gasped to regain, yet only took gulps of salty water flavored with copper blood.

Eyes closed, your connection to Erik was still too strong. The connection to all the forces was too strong. You could feel the submarine slipping away, along with your consciousness. If death already had you in its grasp, you might as well play your last laugh in life.

With every last cell marked with the pesky X-gene, you bent gravity to your will to lift the submarine. Slowly, the ocean's grip on the metal contraption began loosening as it was exposed to the night air. It was becoming excruciating as the salt penetrated your exposed flesh and water filled your lungs as you began laughing. You were happy you were in the water when the tears came. At least when Mama saw you, she wouldn't be able to tell the tear stains. If you died laughing, maybe Erik would somehow hear it through the ocean's enveloping waves. At last, you would be at peace. The darkness that overtook your eyes then overtook all your senses, leaving you an unconscious hope drifting at sea.

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

Charles Xavier has known humanity more intimately than potentially any human before. Yet that fateful night in 1962 was one that changed his perspective on it more than any of the prior decades of his telepathic existence.

All he was meant to do was invade the mind of one Sebastian Shaw, help with world peace, and get started with his teachings as an official professor. Though, nothing worthwhile in life is planned. When Charles realized that the water was not free of occupants, he rushed to save Erik from drowning himself. Until he realized that there was a soul drowning beneath the waves and one suffocating above in the night air.

“Oh my God,” a horrified Moira could only gasp as two figures levitated above in the moonlight before one simply poofed away while it seemed a girl dropped at a concerning speed. In an instant, Charles made a plan and prayed that it would work for the lives of the two strangers and his own conscience. The water was unwelcoming to Charles as it clung to him, trying to drag him down, but he was defiant as he latched onto the tall man in front of him.

“You can't! You'll drown! You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you and your sister are going to die. Please, Erik, calm your mind.”

The sensation was all uncomfortable and intrusive to Erik, but the one thing that made him refuse all his instincts to keep going was the mention of his beloved sister, you. The two men emerged from the icy domain of the water, and as all questions of who this strange voice in his mind was, Erik had only one thing on his mind:

“Where is she?!”

Very distantly, Charles could feel the last grasp of consciousness and knew time was of the utter essence.

“She is not far, but we have no time to lose. Can you pull her with your ability?”

Out of breath and in far too many layers of confusion and panic, Erik had no hesitation as he stuck his hand out, praying you had enough metal upon you for Erik to use. Thankfully, you decided to wear the very first necklace Erik had gifted to you after your escape for Hanukkah. It was a small necklace with a few charted stars. It was stolen, that much you could assume due to your financial standing, but you had kept it dear to your heart and chest for all these years.

Erik clung to the feeling of its magnetic pull and called it to him. His frozen blue eyes were manically wide as he kept out for any sign of you. While he worked on bringing you forward with his mutation, Charles dove back in. Back into the dark abyss of the water and your unconscious mind.

It was rare for the mind to be a silent place. Even when he was younger, accidentally invading someone's dreams was never a quiet sensation. Yet again, Charles had never been in the brain of an unconscious soul. He didn’t want the list of firsts to continue with the feeling of losing a life in his arms. Faster, deeper, he went at full speed, chasing that faint buzzing of your brain. As he got further below the surface, you got closer to it. The small and dainty necklace was unnaturally the levy to your entire being when Charles grabbed your faint body in his arms and swam to the surface with a hunger for air. With each stroke, he tried to enter your mind, begging you to wake.

Within a few moments, the two of you were back in the realm of oxygen as Erik met you. Charles quickly switched you into Erik’s arms as the three of you made it to the CIA boat. Erik had no reason to trust the man in front of him except for the fact that he saved your lives and that he may be like you. A mutant.

Even before your body was lain on the ground, Charles' urgent pleas for medical aid rang through the icy air. Erik's reddened hands were covered in crimson while his cheeks were covered in tears.

“Liebling, please. Please! Bitte!”

Erik hadn’t pleaded in 17 years. It was a foreign taste to his tongue, but he would make it go numb if it meant you no longer would be. You weren’t the one meant to die today. Erik was going to surprise you. Just one last ticket. This time, wherever you want to go. Forever. Start your life. It was supposed to be the beginning. Now why is it the end?

It was hard for Charles to focus when Erik's thoughts nearly drowned out the faint buzzing of your consciousness. All he wished to do was calm Erik's mind, but any second spent on him was one second closer to death for you. With a hand on his forehead and one brushing the hair away from your face, Charles clung onto that small sliver in your brain.

It was a fountain. Not too grand, but with the way the water sparkled and mirrored the surrounding gothic buildings, it made quite the spectacle. The weather was warm yet not hot, aided by the slight breeze. Floral scents wafted through the air, mixed in with the fountain and fresh bread from a bakery close by. Charles knew he was in a memory of yours with the way he felt the emotions you did: joy, contentment, and hopefulness. He knew it was a memory because above all those emotions, the one of aching presented itself painfully.

Fingers were intertwined with his. He finally moved his eyes away from the fountain and to the point of connection. Your hands didn’t clench to him. Instead, his did to you. Yours were grasping until the point your knuckles were white, with the hand of a woman. She looked youthful and beautiful, though there was a strain in her eyes. A sadness she entrapped, only visible in the reflection of the sparkling water fountain. You faced forward, but the look of wonder was infected with confusion at Charles’s additional presence. The fingers in his began to move, brushing with his. The woman to your right, who you assumed to be your mother, sighed lovingly and pulled your hand toward her as she tried to move. You were frozen.

“Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe.”

Her voice was honey-sweet and a long-sought comfort. Charles noticed how your knees bent to move and your finger pointed to follow.

“Y/N, come back to us.”

Your fingers were now tracing the inside of his palms, as if trying to follow a map. Once again, you made no effort to move, but Charles did. He tugged your hand gently to gain your attention, though it didn’t work as your eyes still traced the glorious movements of the falling water in front of you.

“Y/N, wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet.”

Your name sounded so pretty with its proper pronunciation from the woman who had given it to you. The language was still foreign to Charles, but it was your mind, so you could make sense of it, and by association, so could he. A tug once more to your clasped hand.

“Erik is this way. He needs you.”

Your eyes flinched as Charles saw more life and confusion dance behind them. Turning your head, you saw your mother. Her patient smile, crinkled crow's feet, and jubilant hair you always loved to play with when doing dress-up with her. She was everything you longed for. A near step in her direction was too close for Charles.

He placed a hand upon your shoulder, and only then did he finally get the privilege of being witness to such a sight of beauty. You turned your head and knew instantly that this was not a product of your mind. It could never produce such a sight as Charles Xavier’s eyes. The longer the stare was held between you two, the more you felt it all. The gravity of the water, the birds slicing through the air, and a faint pain growing stronger in your stomach. You looked down at it and saw the red staining the milk-white dress you donned. Back to those deep orbs, who seemed to beg you to tug back. Slowly, you started to hear the pleas of a man echoing through the memory. It sounded eerily similar to Erik.

“Y/N.”

At the same time, your mother’s comforting and Charles’s intriguing voices called for you. Your hands were outstretched in front of the fountain as the sun began to set. You felt as the skin began to break apart as the cut deepened. Erik’s voice was as persistent as that never-ending flowing fountain. It was odd—not being able to feel another’s heartbeat, but Charles’s beating so rapidly. Your mother’s didn’t beat at all.

The young man knew just how tempted you were to let go of his grasp. The soliciting pathway out of the tribulation so filled with sorrow was hard to resist, more so for you. All it had been since this near-decade-old memory was a sea of despair. Charles swore to himself that if he was able to get you back, it would not follow that pattern. He was in your mind, but it seemed you were in his as well, as you looked at him as he took his vow. A silence between you two as more voices joined the now urgent shouts of Erik and the maelstrom of metal bending. Your fingers clutched your mother’s as she gave you a loving smile. It was returned with glossy eyes.

“Erik is waiting for me, mama.”

Your fingers finally fully intertwined with Charles’s as you let go of the woman you thought of every night. Once again, your eyes were caught in his orbit as everything became far sharper and more tangible. The sounds of the falling water droplets of the fountain were the last of the memory to dissipate when your eyes finally opened.

A ragged and painful breath was signal enough for Erik as he lifted his head from your shoulder in disbelief.

“Liebling!”

Charles stepped back to give you room but noticed your hands were intertwined in reality, just as they had been in your mind. You looked around and met at least half a dozen pairs of eyes staring down at you, and a pair of gloved hands trying to catarize your stomach in a fashion that made you queasy.

Erik grasped your face to look at it, but you pushed his hands away, along with the young man trying to heal you. If you could, you would have pushed everyone far enough away so you could do your own healing in seclusion, but you did not have such privilege. Eyes slipping closed, your hands rested on your stomach as you sped up your blood clotting process. The cut was diagonal, long, and deep, but with years of practice on much smaller cuts, you were able to manage a speedy procedure that fully stopped any external bleeding. Then came the painful part. You looked forward, past a certain brunette woman’s curious eyes, as you held back grunts of pain. Charles watched in amazement and intense worry as your skin was being pulled at an unusual pace toward the other ripped half, unnaturally closing securely. After one internal check of everything in order with your gift of gravity, you let out a shaky breath, dreading what was to come next.

“That was extraordinary.”

To your left, the man from your mind was there. He was real, yet still not out of your brain as you heard him. He gave you a charming and compassionate smile at your confusion.

“I am just like you. You are not alone.”

You were given no opportunity to respond, nevertheless comprehend what had all happened when Erik forcibly turned your sore body towards him.

“Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?!” The words didn’t need to be elaborated to any of the operatives, which many could already translate, to know they were not ones that you were eager to answer. Their expectations coming true as you lifted yourself up, with generous aid by the man you for some reason wanted to call Charles. Erik’s eyes were wide and frantic as he examined you and your shivering form. He had nothing to give you of warmth, but Charles did. Wordlessly, he offered you his coat, and yet another staring match; you took it with a shy smile. As if there was a conversation between the two of you that the rest were not privy to. He suggested that all of you go inside and shelter away from the cold, an offer you gladly took as it took you away from Erik. Though, of course, not for long.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t know where you were going, you simply walked the halls and back towards your brother. “I would simply like to rest, Erik, not now.” Looking past Erik’s burning stare, you addressed the young man who you just now noticed was as drenched as you and Erik. “Do you have anywhere we can rest? We will be gone by dawn, I swear.”

You had no idea how you would do that and where you would go from here, but that was an issue for tomorrow. If you could, you would have demanded to be taken to shore and out of the way of whoever these people were, but you were simply too exhausted. The young man stepped forward, his accent as smooth and refined as silk.

“Actually, we would prefer you to be here by sunlight. We would like you to stay, join us. You two are not the only ones. You are not alone.”

You finally looked at Erik, albeit with apprehension, and he did the same as he tried to understand what the still unintroduced man was saying. It seemed to hit him then (or did he peer into your minds? Was that his ability?).

“Ah, I am so sorry, I fear I have been too distracted to properly introduce myself. Charles Xavier.”

He first held out his hand for you, that smile ever-present. You took it cautiously but he returned with understanding. He turned to Erik, who, to your surprise, took it. An enthusiasm radiated in the air surrounding Charles.

“This is Agent Moira MacTaggert and fellow CIA agents—”

“The CIA?”

A panic rang through your voice. You were raised to trust no one, nevertheless the government. Any kind. You remembered the last time you got caught up. You were beginning to question whether or not Charles was a telepath or empath, as he knew exactly what to ease your worries, somewhat.

“The mutant division. We are after Shaw just as you are. Now you just don’t have to be on your own.”

Moira nodded from behind him in confirmation while Charles was focused on Erik, seemingly knowing he was the decision-maker between the two of you. Clearly, there was a conversation between the two in the sphere of the mind. Yet, whatever Charles had said must have been meticulously crafted as Erik did something against his very nature. He took Charles’s hand and agreed to join along with whatever this was. Then it was his turn to brush past you and deeper into the boat.

Considering you were all in a metal boat that he could easily crush like a tin can, it was no surprise a short man with glasses and a black suit followed along with the pretty Moira. That just left you and Charles.

“I apologize for the intrusion, though that was a beautiful memory. I can see why you thought of it.”

His words were soft and genuine. You knew mutants were oddities, but Charles seemed the oddest of them all. A rarity within rarities.

“You saved my life.” The words were blunt but didn’t offend Charles in the slightest.

“I would say you saved your own life. You made the choice.”

Charles took your processing time to take you in. Your hair was drenched and knotted yet somehow looked perfectly styled for your prettily reddened cheeks and nose and sparkling eyes. His bones were freezing but, to him, it was worth it. He would be willing to suffer the cold into the morning if he could ensure you would be there. Just a glimpse into your mind, and Charles wanted to indulge more. This was a sensation he had never felt before. His own cheeks grew red, not out of bitter wind but out of embracing heat as he thought of how Raven would tease him mercilessly if she saw him now.

Clearing his throat, he gestured for you to follow him.

“You can rest in this room tonight. I will tell Moira to bring you a change of clothes to ensure you don’t get a case of hypothermia. Rest as much as you need, truly.”

You looked inward at the small but functional room. You turned back and noticed the intense gaze of those crystal eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.”

If only you had a dollar for every time he had flashed that ever-present smirk at you.

“A ‘goodnight’ should suffice quite nicely.”

A slight smile began to grow on your lips. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.✫・゜・。..✭・.✫・゜・。.

translations:

Liebling - darling

Bitte - Please

Es ist Zeit zu gehen, meine Liebe - It's time to go, my love

wir müssen gehen, Erik wartet- we have to go, Erik is waiting

Was dachtest du, was du da macpymhst?! - What did you think you were doing?!

[leviafin]

Big Fish Phantom Shifts

Phantom shifts are often kind of "in the way" for a lot of people. Wings clipping through or bumping into walls. Antlers or horns bonking things. Tails being annoying to deal with when faced with the back of a chair... You get it. I have... a definite problem with this in a very similar way, but it's different than any of the guys in my system with phantom shifts. Namely because I'm a very fucking long fish, made for open water.

My tail at its shortest? Easily 3x the height of my body, if not more. It replaces my legs when I get a phantom shift and I definitely rely on using my cane more in those moments because my legs feel a lot less "real" than they should, and I always feel at more risk of tripping or taking a step wrong. I can still feel my human legs, sure, but they kind of become an afterthought and less present in my mind. Kind of dissociated, less a part of me and more a part of... Something else.

I don't directly feel every inch of my phantom tail though either--more like... There's a sense of there should be a sensation there. I don't feel much aside from where it should connect and curve away from my human body--everything else is a lot less physical. The sense of "this should have feeling" means I don't get hurt or any real direct sensation from it interacting or not fitting in physical objects properly, but it's still a sense of mental discomfort. A sense of "I shouldn't be able to fit here", or a sense of "this should be kinda painful". If I'm in a space where I can't make a logical conclusion to where my tail could possibly fit in a comfortable way, it's like a nagging at the back of my brain telling me to move. Even though I can't physically feel where my tail is or that it would be uncomfortable, my brain knows I shouldn't be able to be in whatever position it is that I'm currently in, and urges me to get to somewhere more comfortable ASAP.

Even though it doesn't cause much physical distress, the tail being so long makes it incredibly annoying when dealing with shifts in the body and performing daily tasks. Walking around outside? Oops, that car just ran over my tail, that should probably hurt. That guy is standing in it, okay sure. It doesn't fit into the car I'm in and my brain can't figure out what to do with that information.

I try to do things in my house? The thing hardly fits in my room, let alone on my bed. Turning around corners can be annoying because my brain will scream about how I'm turning in a way that would hurt my tail. Sitting on a couch is the same issue as the bed. Oops, the dog just walked up and fell asleep where my tail should be, that's bound to have some sort of discomfort.

It's overall not the biggest issue, it's manageable, but it's a weird psychological thing that bugs me sometimes. I'm glad I don't have physical sensation in it because that would be impossible to manage, but having the mental push of "this isn't right, your tail can't fit here" still is... An Experience to have. Most other people in my system can feel a large portion of their phantom limbs, but it honestly makes sense as to why I can't feel mine in the same way--I just literally wouldn't fit in human society. In both of my forms (vast/hunt leviathan and Sebastian Solace), my body is made for open water, not houses, stores or cars.

[nateconnolly]

Me: Now that I’m about to move to a much smaller living situation, I should probably give away some of my books, so that my collection is smaller. That way, my books won’t take up too much space in my new studio apartment :)

Also me: When I get there, as a reward for doing the hard work of moving, I'll get myself a copy of Blood Meridian. And American Mother. And Desiderata and Nausea and Howard Zinn on War and Kindred and the novel version of The Shape of Water and Antigonick and Gravity And Grace and The Persian Bayan and The Collected Poems of Borges and The Empathy Exams and The Cancer Journals and Regarding the Pain of Others and Rap and Redemption on Death Row and Unraveling Oliver and Foundation of the Metaphysics of Morals and Tetrabiblos and Unsong and Werewolves in Their Youth and The Shahnameh and The Lotus Sutra and The Complete Plays of Euripides and Thirteen Ways of Looking and Pig by sam sax and The Underground Railroad and Under the Banner of Heaven and On the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals and A Question of Freedom and The Ferguson Report: An Erasure and Life and Times of Frederick Douglass and Allegory in Dante's Commedia and North and Howl and The Epic of Gilgamesh and Poison for Breakfast and The Inexplicable Logic of My Heart and Strange Adventures (2021) and Nightingale and When Einstein Walked with Godel and Everything and More and the Annals of Tacitus and Wuthering Heights and Last Night in Montreal and Jokes Told in Heaven About Babies and Exhalation and All My Sons and Limbo and Other Places I Have Lived and Plainwater and The Idiot and Anna Karenina and The Avesta and Braiding Sweetgrass and The Phenomenology of Spirit and The Blind in French Society and Short Stories of the Troubles and Cities of the Plain and Desert Solitaire and Mysterium Cosmographicum and Giovanni's Room and The Things They Carried and The Hidden Lives of Trees and Cosmos and The Kitáb-i-Aqdas and The Birth of Tragedy and Emily Wilson's translation of The Iliad and Go Tell It to the Mountain and Archeology of Knowledge and Ledger and The Beauty of the Husband and Everything in this Country Must and Paper Covers Rock and Horseradish: Bitter Truths That Are Hard to Swallow and Crush and A Bound Woman Is a Dangerous Thing and Emma and Richard II and Sherlock Holmes Was Wrong and Philosophical Fragments and Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind and Mrs. Dalloway and The Seal of the Unity of the Three and Anatomy of Melancholy and 2001: A Space Odyssey and Pensées and The Argonauts and Huckleberry Finn and Lose Your Mother and La Vita Nuova and Renaissance Rivals and American Originality and The Art of War and The Fire Next Time and The Lola Quartet and Ireland, Colonialism, and the Unfinished Revolution and The Haunting of Hajji Hotak and The Bloody Chamber and Howl's Moving Castle and The Poetic Edda. I'm sure I'll have space :)

[whxre-bxby]

Good luck with your big thing and I'll wait patiently for your next fics! :)

:) Thank you, I think it's passing so we good (I'm back)

"Insane Like Me"

Recom Fike x Human f. Reader

(1K special request from @supernovapsycho2321 )

Masterlist

Summary: Fike is known as the shortest recom who happens to be hot-headed. When he meets you he realises your attitude and personality match. After you overcome your first tense encounter, you realise you're both growing a soft spot for each other.

WARNINGS: Fluff, little bit of Angst, tension, cursing

Words Count: 2126 (short one-shot)

You often hear people say that to find yourself the perfect person, you need to complete each other. Like two completely different puzzle pieces that just happen to match and finish the whole puzzle. 

Well, let me tell you…

That's not always the case. 

Fike is one of the shorter recoms and with that height come certain personalities. To tease him and really piss him off, his friends compare him to a Chihuahua. Fike is not similar to a Chihuahua. More like a shrunken Pitbull. Not that those are very tall either. 

Pitbulls are strong and can be aggressive but most importantly, they have a soft and sweet side which is often overlooked by people. That is Fike. He is a hotheaded marine like many others but he isn't unsensible. 

Often, he likes his challenges to be big. Bigger than him. That can also backfire, but he manages to blame it on someone else if it does. 

Then, there is you. You work for the RDA, just like Fike, but in a different branch. And you get irritated very easily because everything seems to be made for giants. We're not talking about Avatars here, I mean people. 

You're just very short, but you never say that. You're personality and attitude completely match Fike's energy. It's either a love or a violent mess bound to happen. Whether the love blooms or the chaos erupts entirely depends on the situation you meet each other in. 

One wrong move and it's over for both of you. Things will be flying through the air and curse words will be erupting from both your throats. 

You don't care that he's a recom, quite frankly it would annoy you even more. 

The inevitable meeting isn't the best situation because you've both had a stressful day when you bump into each other in the hallway. However, something that shocks the universe takes place. 

Fike is walking through the seemingly endless hallways and his head is clouded with thoughts. Heavy footsteps, reminding others an Avatar was walking by, made employees move out of the way. The ones that didn't would get swished with Fike's tail which seemed to have a mind of its own when he was pissed off. 

Since most people moved out of the way, he wasn't counting on that one person not doing the same. As he approached your much smaller self, he didn't bother to stop. Neither did you. So you ended up knocking into each other, causing your paperwork to fall to the ground. 

Fike's attention was no longer on his thoughts but back in reality as he stared down at the human whom he had collided with. 

I freeze in my tracks after almost having the air knocked from my lungs. My eyes shoot up and I huff an annoyed sigh. Of course, it was a recom. They thought they could do anything they wanted. 

He stared down at me while I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. It caused him to raise an eyebrow. 

"What?" He asked, not seeming to understand my expression. 

"Are you going to apologise?" I ask, not looking away from him. 

Nothing could intimidate me after the awful day I've had. If he thinks he can just walk into me like I'm not there then he has one hell of a shitstorm coming his way. 

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise and disbelief at my words. 

"For what?" He scoffs, barely glancing down at my work. "Makin' you drop some shit?" 

I cannot believe him. 

"This 'shit' is the reason you're alive again, asshole. Watch your mouth and pick it up." I snap at him. 

He seems to be processing my words. 

"Nah, don't think so. You're closer to it shortstack." 

The pet name made me furious. 

"What? You think you're too good to pick up the mess you made?" 

"The mess I made? Think you walked into me." 

"I was walking on the right side of the hallway. You were in the middle!" I snarl, pointing at the line dividing the floor in half. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head. 

"That's not a rule"

"Yes, it is! Can you see the line? Yeah? It make sense to you yet?" 

My demeaning tone seems to annoy him for a few seconds because he flattens his ears back. 

"Listen lady, I don't know what you think you're doin', but-"

"No, you listen to me!" I shout, interrupting him. "I don't care if you're an Avatar! You need to respect others. Now pick up the goddamn papers you hit out of my hands and make it right!" I say, now pointing to the messy stack of papers at my feet. 

The people watching around us are beyond entertained at this point.

There are a few minutes of silence where the Avatar just stares at me. I refuse to stand down and frown up at him. 

Suddenly, to my surprise, he bends down and starts to neatly pile my papers into a stack before straightening up and handing them to me. 

My expression changes from the harsh glare I had before as I slowly take the papers back into my hands. 

"Happy?" He asks. 

"Yeah. Wasn't so hard was it?" I say, rolling my eyes and starting to walk away. 

I notice him turn around after me. 

"What's your name? We should do this again sometime!" He called after me. I stop and give him a doubting look before flipping him off and walking away. 

Fike lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before turning away and continuing to walk in his direction.

Anyone who would have known Fike would have been in shock. Normally, situations like those would have quickly turned into fistfights. Even though you're a woman, he would have still been mean. But Fike left that situation feeling a lot better than he was before. Even if you weren't. 

After that incident, Fike couldn’t shake you from his mind. He’d never met anyone like you and he couldn’t deny that it didn’t stir something in him. Fike liked that you had an attitude and even despite you being a third of his size, he liked that you talked to him like you weren’t. 

The next time you saw each other was coincidentally at lunch. It was nothing but eye contact for a few seconds. Yet, that was enough to have both your hearts racing. He knew he liked you and why but you weren’t sure why you felt drawn to him. You didn’t even know each other's names.

When you left the cafeteria, Fike immediately left his table and friends behind to follow you. He needed to find out where you worked or spent most of your time so that he could meet you again. 

It wasn’t easy, sneaking around as a recom but he managed without you noticing. 

Since then, he would hurry through his training session and speed up his showers. Often he would skip meals or take them with him, just so that he can pretend to accidentally run into you again. 

That way you would often see him in the hallway, walking by whenever you finished your shift. The glances slowly turned into polite smiles which was unusual for both of you. 

At one point, Fike was becoming impatient so he waited for everyone to leave your office before he let himself in. 

My eyes tear themselves from the documents I was correcting when I hear the door open. To my surprise, I see the recombinant again. The same one I bumped into a few days back. Well actually, he walked into me. It wasn’t my fault, all his. 

I stop what I’m doing and watch him. He scans the room before his eyes meet mine. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he turns around to close the door behind him. 

“Hey.” he starts talking, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you lose something?” I ask, leaning against my desk and dropping my pen. 

A soft but raspy chuckle leaves him. It made me want to hear it again. 

“No. I didn’t catch your name last time.” he said. It seems as though my attitude made it easier for him to talk and remember why he’s here.

“It says it on the door.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

I roll my eyes. Of course he does. 

“Why? This department doesn’t concern you.” I add, not wanting to make it easy for him.

I hear him sigh. “Come on, just give me your name, doll.”

“That doesn’t work on me.” I say. Pet names never do. And the last time he used one it didn’t either. 

“Please?” he asks, wondering if perhaps being polite will do it. 

I give up with a soft huff. “It’s Y/N.”

The Avatar smiles. “Y/N. Nice name.” he says and I softly scoff, looking back down at my papers. 

I hear him take a few steps towards me and soon he is in front of my desk. He reaches for a chair and uncomfortably sits on it. It was made for humans, not Avatars. But it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

“Now you can ask for my name.” he says, looking back at me. 

“Why would I?” I say, but he can see through my bluff. 

“C’mon. I see the way you look at me. No need to hide it, shortie.” 

I frown at the pet name but his grin tells me he used it on purpose again, just to annoy me. 

“What’s your name then?” 

“Fike. Sean Fike.” 

“Hm.” I hum with a small nod. 

“Nice to meet you.” he teases, extending his hand to me. 

“Such a pleasure.” I answer sarcastically, briefly shaking his hand before trying to focus on my work again. 

“It will be, just wait and see.” Fike joked, grinning at me. He rested his elbow on my desk and was watching me shuffle through my paper. 

I scoff and roll my eyes at his comment. But oddly, his way with words reflects my behaviour. I don’t know whether I like it or whether it makes me uncomfortable. 

“Don’t you have places to be?” I ask, glancing up from my sheets. It was difficult to concentrate on work with him around. 

“Nah, I’m done for the day.” He smiles at me and I sigh. 

“Great.” The words leave my lips in a muffled whisper. I’d have to put up with him now for as long as he liked. 

“What are you doing after this?” he asks. I really won’t manage to get any work done…

“Grabbing something to eat and then going to my room.” 

I purposefully don’t look at him because I know he thrives in my attention. Making him seem less important amuses me. 

“Alone?” 

Now I can’t help but look at him. My eyebrow raises at his question. 

“Yes, alone.” 

“Would you like some company tonight?” he asks and I stare at him in disbelief. He seems to suddenly realise how one could misinterpret that question so he quickly tries to save it. 

“-not in that way! Unless that’s what you want then that’s great but-” 

“Fike.” I warn him, straightening my posture. 

“I meant for dinner.” he says, exhaling softly. “Can I take you out?”

My expression softens slightly and I’m no longer irritated by his presence. I can tell he’s being genuine.  

“In this shit hole?” I joke for the first time since he’s entered and it makes him smile again. 

“Yeah, sorry. Options are limited.” Fike answers. The RDA facility wasn’t very visually attractive. There was little colour and cement was everywhere. 

I sigh, hating how I’m growing a weakness for him. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be done in an hour.” I reply and his smile extends to his cheeks. 

“I don’t mind waitin’.” 

“But I actually have to work, we can’t be talking.” I say, trying to stay serious. 

He nods understandingly. “Yes ma’am. Can I help?” 

His words have my cheeks slowly heating up into a blush and I have to look down to hide it. Dammit, why was the name-calling suddenly pleasing to me?

“Yeah, uh... Can you get that down from there?” I ask and Fike reaches for a box on the high shelf. 

For the next hour, Fike manages to stay quiet. Only because of the date we have after, of course. Otherwise, he would be teasing and distracting you. It was exciting for both of you to have finally found someone so similar to yourselves. One could say it would get boring after a while but your personalities were far from boring. And now there were two of them which made things that much better.

Tag List: @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal @numarusworld @jatwow @ken-dala

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Right, chapter 8 is done! Something much shorter and lighter than the last one, as they'll hopefully mostly be from here to the end of the story. Enjoy!

~~Little Flame, Chapter 8~~

Over the next few weeks, word got around to their remaining friends of Frank's request. There were of course the murmured apologies for bounds overstepped, but he was quick to assure them that it really was alright and all was forgiven. He meant it too. Now that their initial bout of anger had long since passed, Frank felt almost embarassed to have gotten *so* worked up about it.

Oddly enough, one of the people most upset to have made them upset was apparently Howdy. He'd been quite enjoying the recent upswing of their friendship, and "would hate to know I'd done something to ruin it." To make up for that, all kinds of baby supplies were brought into the shop for Frank and Eddie to choose between, the caterpillar assuring them that any products they didn't buy would be shipped right back or kept waiting in storage.

"Wow, quite the selection you got here," Eddie said as the two walked in. A row of freshly-constructed cribs stood side by side in the widest space the shop had to offer. Behind them were neatly organized shelves of diapers, bottles, tins of formula & pastel onesies. And in the middle of it all stood Howdy himself, looking proud as could be.

"Yep! Spared no expense. Your kids deserve the best after all, and that's exactly what they'll get here at Howdy's Place." It was his usual sales-pitch talk, but underneath there was also a genuine sense of love. Being able to provide for his friends and their families was Howdy's greatest joy in life, and even though he'd yet to meet them he was clearly keen on showering the child with gifts.

Frank chuckled, and set about testing the strength of one of the cribs. "What do think of this one love? It seems pretty sturdy, and the slats aren't too far apart."

Eddie considered it for a moment, looking the thing over carefully. Then shook his head as he pressed down on to the mattress. "Too firm, little guy needs somethin' softer. Don't wanna mess their bones up!"

"Not too soft though," Frank countered. "Babies need head & back support as well."

"How about this one then?" Howdy offered, gesturing over to one tall and elegant in white-painted wood. "Extra storage underneath, soft foam top layer on the mattress with a sturdy base, and it even has built in slots for mobile & monitor!"

This time both of them disagreed. "Far too fancy," Frank said. "And the height's all wrong. Let's take a look at the others before we make any decisions."

And so it went, going one by one through the different beds in search of a perfect match for their home. Yet in each one, no matter how perfect they seemed at first, there was always some trouble too much to bear. This one's slats were too wide, that one wobbled on its uneven legs, this other would be so close to perfect except it looked so terribly ugly.

"AUGGHH!" Frank groaned in frustration, burying his face in their hands. "Why is this so difficult? It's the first choice, and we can't even decide on that." He sighed deeply and shook his head. "We're no good to be parents."

"Aww, don't say that darlin'," Eddie reassured. "We're doin' fine, just...hit a little snag is all."

Frank snorted and glared at their husband through his fingers. "We would've already been done by now if you'd just agreed with me at the start."

"Hey now, you saw yourself it wasn't right! I'm just doing what's best for 'em!"

"And I'm not??" Frank snapped.

"HEY!" Howdy shouted above the rising cloud of tension, his upper arms gently keeping the two at a distance. Thinking quickly, he pried the tall white crib's deluxe mattress free, then swapped it out with the one from the first frame, internally sighing with relief as it fit near perfectly onto the shorter bed.

Gesturing proudly now with all four hands, he declared, "There you go! That should solve all your problems, so there's no more need for fighting."

Frank and Eddie stared silently at the newly re-mattressed crib for a moment. Then a nervous chuckle rumbled up from the grey, spilling over into genuine laughter from both. "That's perfect!" Frank said. "Thank you." He then leaned against their mate's shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Eddie. You don't deserve it when you're just trying to be a good dad."

Putting an arm around them, Eddie snuggled back. "It's ok, I know ya didn't mean it. This is stressful business, and we're all feelin' a lot right now. It's a lucky thing Howdy's here to help us out though, right?"

"Of course!" Howdy smiled warmly. "It's what I'm here for. And I really do mean it- I want the best for all of you."

They ended up buying that first bed in its refurbished state, along with several boxes worth of the other supplies, a few toys and some clothes as well. Howdy helped them carry it all back to their house, and as he watched the two chat happily over their armfuls of bags, he couldn't but smile. Yes, this was how it should be. All his friends were were safe and happy. Their little town was so full of warmth and life and love, so ready to welcome its newest resident. Yeah, he thought with a soft chuckle. Things really are gonna turn out alright.

[dardinan-ingellvar]

Interview About Emmrich

(These are the questions asked about Dorian toward my Inquisitor. Figured I'd answer them about Emmrich this time) Hello, Dardin'an.

Hello!

How are you doing?

Alright, could be better, I suppose. Bit worn down after the whole 'fighting two gods' thing...But I'm good.

Let's begin.

1. Who is your partner? Tell us a bit about them.

Emmrich Volkarin. He's a professor in the Necropolis, smart, charming, kind, witty....handsome as hell, and quite the silver fox...

2. How did you meet, and how did you get together?

Oddly enough, we never actually met during my time learning under the Mourn Watch...I'd heard his name float around, I think...It sounded familiar anyway. And I always got the feeling we'd met before, but...Ah well...We met after a bit of a catastrophe involving two dragons in two different cities...I picked Treviso...but it wasn't enough, and we needed a dragon expert, and a Fade expert. The first time I saw him, his head was a glowing green skull, but I fell hard and fast. And then he showed his true face after a few moments, and I was done for. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen...Somehow nostalgic, like filling a void I didn't even know I had. After some light flirting, a couple dates, and almost being lost in the Fade forever, we made it official...I mean, I was bound to him the moment I laid eyes on him, but...You know...'official'...*wink, wink*

3. What is your partner's best physical feature?

His smile, his eyes, his hair, his mustache...his height...I really might be able to list every single thing.

4. Name one hobby or passion of theirs.

Hmm...I mean, he is big on alchemy, and he has numerous collections...books, skulls, jewelry...I think that last one might be the strangest. And he has this one bracelet he says started it all...I swear one of my first lovers had one just like it, but it looks custom...And I don't remember which one, even though I seem to remember giving them one...But...Uh...Can we move on? Something's...weird.

5. Name one thing you like about their personality.

He's kind. Like, in ways most people aren't. Even though he did wish for Lichdom, and being truly immortal like them, nothing he does is selfish. He even sacrificed his chance at his dream to save our son's life. Our son, the...talking skeleton, by the way. He's quite the wisp. Even knows magic now.

6. Name one thing you dislike about their personality.

He can be a little obsessive. Don't get me wrong, that's not inherently bad. In fact, I find it endearing more than anything. But he has tried to take half the library with him on certain ventures, including a camping trip with Harding. It's cute, but it can get in the way of actual experiences. It's about the worst thing I can think of...and it's not even that bad. Oh! That, and he's a little *too* proper sometimes. I do think he could do to relax more, you know? Let loose, let his hair fall out of place a little from time to time...But I also think it's part of his charm...So...Heh...I'm so disgustingly smitten, I know it.

7. What is something you absolutely love about them?

Haven't I gushed enough? No...Scratch that. I'll never gush enough. He's just the best thing that could have ever happened to me. He's always putting me first, while I'm doing the same for him, we're wildly compatible, in just about every way, and even when we aren't spending time together, everything just...feels right, knowing we're together as a couple. Like, in ways I've never felt right before...

8. What is something you absolutely cannot stand about them?

Yeah, I really listed the worst things already...There's nothing I can't stand...Well...Actually...That's a lie. I would like to wake up next to him, but the man wakes up at the most Blighted hours of the morning, so I'll never beat him to it. I do hate that.

9. Is your partner the romantic type? Do you want them to be?

He is a true, old-fashioned romantic, in the best way...And I wouldn't have it any other way. He was entirely about sweeping me off my feet before we...'consummated', and wouldn't even kiss me until we had a proper dinner by candlelight. I am constantly in awe of how much effort he puts into the more romantic moments...

10. What makes them special to you personally?

I...know this is going to sound weird, but...I don't know. Like, he just makes me feel a certain kind of way, like I knew him before...Well, before I existed. And after I met him, looking back on past loves, I think I was always looking for him? Like, I was meant to find him somehow, or more like I needed to...He isn't my first love by a long shot, but he is the only one that's felt real...But I didn't know that until I met him. It's hard to explain.

11. How much do you think your partner loves you?

As much as I love him, at the very least. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he shows it every time we're together. I often wonder if he feels the same familiarity I feel with him...even though it doesn't make a lick of sense.

12. Do you want to be with them for the rest of your life? Do you think you will be?

I...may have a ring and a promise at the ready. But that's just between us......As to whether we will be together for the rest of our lives? I mean, I lead a dangerous life, but he is 20 years older than me. I'm not blind to the fact that he's likely going to die before me...though I could just as easily make a wrong move and die in a fight against some new ancient horror that's been unleashed on the world. But we'll be together as long as we can. That much I do know.

...And before you ask, yes, it's an age gap...I get it. I'm a proper adult, and I know what I'm doing. If I'd met him when I was freshly 18, I would understand the odd looks and questions, but I'm 30. I'm aware of who I am and what I can handle.

13. How are they in bed? Do you enjoy the sexual side of your relationship? Or do you not want to talk about it?

Heh...He's surprisingly less 'proper'. I'll leave it at that. But I love it. He knows how to light up the nerves at the slightest touch...He really wasn't joking when he said he was 'familiar with the finer points of anatomy'...The man is an expert. In all kinds of ways and practices. So...Okay, maybe I went deeper than planned, but it was worth it.

14. What is your partner's family like? What do they think of you?

Well, they are dead, but we visit his parents' graves often...He says they'd have loved me. They were apparently very kind, much like he is. So...It is nice to think about. I only wish I could give him the same promise, but my parents left me in a tomb...So...I don't know if that was so I'd be found, or to bury a regret...And I don't think I ever will.

15. Do you think you and your partner are good parents to your kids? What is the best and worst part about parenting?

Manfred is in the best hands he could possibly be with Emmrich. And I do my best. It's oddly natural with him. Maybe it helps he's not a baby though. I've always been a little uncomfortable around those.

Thank for taking this interview, Dardin'an.

Anytime! I'm an open book!

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

Happy Holidays to @idlenight, who was kind enough to let me steal his Sidestep, River Becker, for an absolutely unhinged fic for a gift exchange. I had a lot of fun playing with your delightful bastard, Idle. Sorry I was mean to him!

Undertow

Warnings for graphic violence, grief, betrayal, and questions of identity.

Read on Ao3 or

Red waves spill out of the fractured face plate, bursting from the technicolor star that crackles out wild like lightning across the shards of screen. Julia's resolve falters, her fist slowing as she draws it back. She swallows hard as glass pieces fall away without her knuckles to hold them in place. More strands of red escape the bounds of the helmet, pouring out unruly as the sea in a storm.

She used to tug on those waves, watching them bounce back into place. They're softer, silkier than her own hair. "No," she scoffed, shoving his shoulder gently. He rocked away with the motion, but always came back to her, like a moon in orbit. "You're not gonna convince me that's your natural color."

River rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his smirk. "Yeah, well, guess you'll have to keep calling me a liar 'cause I'm not going to show you the carpet to prove you wrong."

"Mierda, Rio, ew!" The mock offense had been no match for her mirth, melting beneath her inability to stop laughing.

When she pressed her palm to his face, pushing him away fully, he let her. His laugh mingled with hers, green eyes alight with the joy she'd thought would always be there.

The green eye that peers out between shattered plasteel and glass isn't laughing now. Something else swirls in its depths as his brow pulls down towards his nose. "Don't fucking stop now, Charge." The voice modulator only partially cloaks his voice, the real River escaping the widening seams in Maelstrom.

He slams his head forward, forehead cracking against hers, and Julia swears as she reels back off and away from him. He scrambles even further in her distraction. Getting to his feet is not a graceful thing. It's a desperate scrabbling across ruined concrete to put space between them. More bits of his helmet crumble from his face, revealing scarred pale skin and a spattering of freckles.

"Oh, my god, you didn't tell me you have freckles!" The sentence broke on the giggle that Julia couldn't hold back.

River paused in pulling the Sidestep mask up, his nose anchoring the shifting nanoweave. He crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressing into something close to a pout. "I can pull it back down if you're just going to make fun of me, Marshal." The words were sharp, but his tone cracked on the snark. He knew she wouldn't call his bluff.

"No,no," she'd protested, because curiosity always kicked her self discipline into gear. "Come on. Let's see it."

She wishes she could roll the mask back down now, piece the helmet back into place, go back to pretending anyone could be Maelstrom. She doesn't want to see his familiar face being revealed piecemeal as his most recent alter ego falls away. It hurts more with every shard that shatters on the concrete. The pieces scatter further as he goes on the offensive, fragments falling like rain, and he rushes forward once more.

Julia only has a second to collect herself before he's on her, trading blows as fast as a viper. He didn't used to be this fast. A function of the armor? Or maybe they just never sparred with the intent to hurt each other. Maybe he'd always been holding back. Or maybe they'd just made this impostor better than River.

"Keeping up okay, old lady?" River didn't even strain to speak as he dodged and wove between her blows. Despite his height, he was always a slippery opponent. "You haven't landed a single hit."

"So impatient." She'd laughed back then, though it had sounded more like a wheeze. "Ever heard of sounding someone out?"

"Ever heard of being too slow?" He shot back. "Too-

-slow, old lady." Cold metal knuckles crash into Julia's gut, knocking the wind out of her with a pained gasp. She doubles over with the blow and Maelstrom's other hand grabs her hair, dragging her back upright. Her eyes meet his, zeroing in one the new feature since she last saw him: an eye prosthesis in black and silver, its iris the same blue and purple starburst as Maelstrom's helm.

The sight makes her grit her teeth. Not even trying to hide now. And why should he? The jig is up. She knows he's an impostor - just a lookalike of the real River. It still stings like antiseptic on a fresh wound. River had been her best friend, her confidante, her other half in ways she struggles to explain even to herself. Was it not enough that he had died and she had mourned? Bled out for years while his name was carved in stone over an empty plot? And then this River - this terrible, blood-stained facsimile of her friend - had dug his claws into that old wound and ripped it open anew.

Julia clenches her jaw, eyes tracking each shift in the jacket that covers the grey and white armor, and dodges back away from the oncoming blow. He may be faster than her now, but he doesn't fight all that different than the real River used to. As she weaves between his fists, letting herself slip into old reflexes she hasn't used in years, River's lips curl up in a snarl. The expression looks alien on his face.

There was always a wry edge to his smile. He threw them around so carelessly. Always laughing at something, always preceding a sharp joke and scathing comment. They could verbally spar for hours, playing off each other with a subtle escalation with each return.

River isn't talking so much now. He must have finally realized she's not fucking around this time. What gave it away, she wonders. Was it the fact that he's only landing glancing blows now or that she flexed her fingers in the array almost as familiar as her own heartbeat? The humming of the generator echoes up her spine in answer. A more deadly call and response for him to rebuff. His armor may be insulated, but it's a broken shell now.

No, he hadn't seen her boot up her mods. That much is clear as her fist flies just past his face and his eyes widen at the sight of electricity crackling so close to his nose. He must be able to taste it. The fight goes from enraged to frantic, the stakes heightened, and Julia gives him no quarter. Her nerves scream every time she makes contact with the armor. It's clearly not reinforced, but it still jolts her nerves down to the very bone.

He falls for her feint and Julia lunges forward, dodging under his arm. It doesn't take a lot of force to the back of the knee to bring a man to the ground and River is no exception. Even in the armor, the joints buckle against the weight from Julia's reinforced skeleton. River turns, eyes wide as he tries to glance over his shoulder.

He tossed a smile over his shoulder, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he turned to face her. "It's harder than it looks, isn't it?"

Julia picked herself up off the ground and rolled her shoulders. "I don't know that I can pull it off. I'm not as scrawny as you."

She smirked to soften the blow a touch, but she could still see the mild offense as he scoffed, "Scrawny! It's called 'lean'." He bounced on his feet like a jack rabbit. "Or spry."

"Alright, then," she mimicked his bounce, bringing up her fists. "Let's try it again, then."

He rushed her, ducking beneath her swing, leaving himself purposefully open to the blow to the back of the knees. She had this now. If River could pull it off, so could Julia. Shift weight, turn, shift momentum, and-

Julia's heel makes contact with River's jaw and she can feel the rattle of his teeth as it snaps shut. He collapses forward onto his hands, spitting blood and what might well be a tooth onto the pavement. He wouldn't hesitate and neither does she as she drives her boot into his armored ribs. River gasps as he rolls onto his back and, for a moment, he lies there, grimacing with bloodstained lips. She's on him in the next breath, pinning one arm beneath her knee, the other above his head. She clenches her jaw so hard that her teeth ache as she hits him, once, twice, again, and again. His expression twists with panic and pain and something altogether unfamiliar to her. With the front of the helmet near fully gone, Julia's stomach twists at hurting this man with her best friend's face.

River, his face pinched even beneath the mask as he breathed shallow through his teeth. Julia pressed her hands hard against his side, but it didn't stop the blood seeping between her fingers. "You're okay. You're gonna be okay. I've got you." She didn't tell him she'd always have him. She didn't need to. He knew. She'd always have his back.

Until she didn't anymore. Her fist shakes where it's drawn back above her head, her breath as ragged as her heart. When had she started crying? Was it when River's nose had started gushing blood or when his scarred cheek had turned purple beneath her knuckles?

He looks up at her with an almost blank expression. No, not blank. Is it remorse? With great effort, his lips curl up in a smile, no room for mirth with all the jagged and broken edges. "Go on," he growls, though she feels none of the previous bite he'd spoken with. "If it's gotta be someone, it's better if it's you."

Julia chokes on a retort, her tongue leaden in her mouth. She clenches her fist hard enough to draw her own blood. Beneath her, Maelstrom, not-River, River closes his eyes. It only makes him look closer to dead. A scream tears itself from her throat as she drives her fist down once more.

[inhonoredglory]

Hi Glory. I am so sorry for anyone receiving the Gaiman news, who appreciated him as someone to deeply admire and look up to. However, I have got to say that I'm not surprised... in fact, I was waiting for something like this to happen... and it's because it happened on this site to John Mulaney and others before him. Even right now, once popular individual blogs are getting nuked left and right, falling from the heights of Tumblr stardom burning like canopies because they are suddenly being forced to take a position on Gaza... which almost no one is properly equipped to provide in its complexity, I believe... Now, Neil Gaiman was idolized so much here, I was expecting his sudden ungraceful exit, it was bound to happen. It serves as a reminder that maaan, we do not know who celebrities are as people any better than we know who is behind the url of one of our mutuals. They are people, not idols.

Who's next? Alex Hirsch? Taylor Swift?

As unfortunate as this is, I want to encourage you that Neil Gaiman being human means that all his positive contributions to society still stand. We are never on just one side of things. We are flawed, fallible, disgusting, scared, evil and wrong. We are also capable of inspiring thousands. Luckily, there is nuance to us.

Let's hear and compensate the victims, keep the good, allow Gaiman to come back at any time he's ready to, and move on.

This message is about a month old, but I just want to say thanks for thinking of me and sending it my way. 🖤 When the Neil news broke I was in grief for a long, long time. But we take the good in the worlds he made and move on. And I know that my love for the fandom community is bigger than the person behind the franchise. Anyway, thank you for popping in my inbox with kindness.