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#reasonable though. not exactly slow
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Yes hello just wanted to step by and say that I love your Wolfwren fic so far thanks have a great day
🥺🥺🥺 oh wow thank you!! that fic is so much fun to write & getting to delve into sabine’s gay little head and explore the absolute tragedy of her life (being used as a child soldier by the empire, falling in love with her best friend who then left her for dead, finding a family and then losing it in pieces, one by one to this war she can never stop fighting) has been such a painful and rewarding experience but so good…
i’m 🫡😭 about giving sabine this slow-dance of blood and tension and longing into something raw and healing and beautiful with shin. it’s what she deserves!!
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louisa-gc · 5 months
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how to start reading again
from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.
start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.
don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.
go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.
remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)
analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.
read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.
finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.
try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.
forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.
remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!
stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.
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sistertotheknowitall · 7 months
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Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
——
By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
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mostly-imagines · 1 month
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The Alchemy vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood
part one
warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault
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It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You don’t know if that’s your fault or his.
“How’s it goin’ down there?” You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.
He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. “I am up here for a reason,” he says factually.
You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You don’t like that one.
He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. “Why are all the lights off?”
“Forgot to turn ‘em on,” you tell him simply.
He frowns at you, confusion evident.
You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks it’s odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge. 
Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.
When you return, he’s leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.
You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go. 
He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. “You’re drunk.”
You shake your head, “I’m not sober.”
“That’s—yeah.” He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.
He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesn’t seem you’d left him much room. If he minds, it doesn’t show. “What’d you do?”
“I jus’ went out with my friend,” you tell him, closing your eyes. “She moves pretty fast..”
It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. “You good?”
“I feel great,” you keen. “I feel…swooshy.”
He gives you a bemused look. “Dizzy?”
You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, “No, not even dizzy, just…swoosh.” You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.
“Mhm.”
You pucker your lips to the side. “You come here a lot,” you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.
“You’re in my neighborhood,” he shrugs. 
Your head tilts, “You live here?”
He pauses before correcting himself, “My territory.”
You hum, “Still. There has to be other people around here you know. ‘Specially if you’re passing out on balconies on the reg.”
He frowns, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”
You continue on, “Why do you always go to my apartment? There’s—”
“I don’t always come to your apartment—”
You deadpan, “You’re here like three nights a week. And I don’t even help you that much anymore, you’ve used up my whole first aid kit.”
You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. “That thing wasn’t exactly impressive to start with..”
“Did enough for you, didn’t it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,” you say with a nod.
That has him going absolutely rigid, “What?”
“I’ve heard you’re an asshole.”
“What?”
You nod, “Like, people that run into you. They say you’re kind of a dick. You help ‘em ‘n everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.”
“Okay...”
“But you’re nice to me. Sort of,” you squint. “I think you like me.”
He hasn’t felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. “I—well I’m not here because you’re a world-class medic.”
You scoff, “There’s no world-class medics..” But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. “We’re friends aren’t we? I think we’re friends.” 
He shakes his head, staring up blankly. “Sure, we’re friends.”
“We’re friends and you like me,” you reiterate.
He really wishes you’d stop saying that. “Okay.”
“I like you too. Even though you’re kinda sketchy.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that.
You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. “J…James, Jack, John…”
He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. “I’m not going to tell you.”
You ignore him, “Jake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, Jesse…”
You’re about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens. 
“Juuhhh…” you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.
He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before. 
His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. “You’re pretty.”
What?
“What?”
“What?” He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasn’t expecting them to climb out of his mouth.
You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. “I’m…pretty?”
He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position he’s going to take here. “I—well…yeah.”
You blink once, relaxing. “I think…I think you’re pretty too.”
“What?”
“We can’t do this again.”
He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.
You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. “I mean, I know I haven’t seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so I…maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” You reset with a shallow breath, “I don’t know what your whole face looks like.”
“That was,” he blinks, eyebrows raised. “Fascinating.”
“Thanks,” you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.
He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didn’t mean to say it but he definitely meant it: you’re really fucking pretty.
Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. It’s when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.
And he doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isn’t doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and he’s pretty confident later he’ll curse himself for lying like this for so long. 
But as he lays, he doesn’t find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. He’s usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.
He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didn’t know any better, he’d call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.
He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesn’t make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.
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Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.
Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.
So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.
You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.
You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.
“Oh, shit,” you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. “Hood?” 
There’s no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. “J? J!”
His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this. 
He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. “Hey..”
You sit back on your heels with a sigh, “What the fuck?”
He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. “What is that?”
“Huh?” He throws back a tired glance, “Oh. They're..curtains.”
“Explain.”
He looks at you blankly, “You don’t have any curtains.”
You blink. “Explain.”
“It’s dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.” For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, he’s not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion. 
You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.
You set it back down, blinking. “Thanks.”
He only gives a half-hearted shrug.
You look back at him, “How bad is the…?” You gesture to the side of your head.
He feels at the blood again, “It’s mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.”
You nod, “I’ll, uh—I’ll clean it up.”
He looks at you, shaking his head. “You don’t need to. Your kit’s almost empty anyways.”
“I restocked it,” you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while you’re gone.
You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. “Here, sit on the couch,” you tell him, nodding him up. 
He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldn’t have minded either way—if only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.
As much as you are completely in his space, you’re having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works. 
You huff, sitting back. “I can’t..”
He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep he’s breathing and how he’s seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. You’re sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly you’re kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.
An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and he’s about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.
You go back to dabbing at the blood and it’s clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. “You should move.”
“But then where would you go?”
He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.
You continue to wipe away at the blood until you can’t see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you don’t move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt. 
His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesn’t stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.
Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though there’s an increasing resolve on both of your parts, the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.
The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.
A long beat passes before he’s tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You aren’t given the time to process the shift as he’s moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.
“Sorry—I’m…” his shoulders drop, “Sorry.” 
He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until he’s gone completely.
You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.
What the fuck?
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Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits. 
You’re not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldn’t possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since he’s the only one who did anything. All in all, it’s a little disappointing.
There had been tension there and it wasn’t shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.
Maybe you can’t read him as well as you think because you’d expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldn’t kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesn’t make sense.
It’s a little more than embarrassing to admit that you’ve been purposefully staying home in the hope that he’ll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.
You’d asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily. 
The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.
“Hey gorgeous,” she smiles at you, waving you in.
You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey. 
Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. “You been cool?”
You nod, “Yeah, just—you know…” She doesn’t. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something you’ve kept to yourself, though you don’t know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least. 
You take a deep breath, “You’ve been busy. Jessie call out again?”
She laughs dryly, “Oh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.” She sighs, “I’m almost done anyway.”
You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. “You need help?”
“No, there’s—” she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. “Oh, shit. Duck.”
“Wha—” she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.
You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.
“—Christ, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time I’m gonna kill her.”
You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.
A second man mutters something you can’t make out.
The first voice continues, “Go around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.” 
Another voice, “The crates? They’re not here..”
There’s a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, “What the fuck do you mean they’re not here? She needs them now.”
“Well…the first shipments will be in later this week. The next batch’ll take until the end of the month, probably.”
A sigh, “Dumbass…”
The first voice huffs, “The end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and you’ve got it coming in at the end of the month?” 
“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do to get it sooner.”
“Yeah, you do that,” he grumbles. “Motherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.”
One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.
“What the fuck?”
You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like he’s trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesn’t match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.
Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, “You’re not supposed to be here still, Chloe.”
She shifts her weight, “I was just…finishing inventory…”
The bossman’s eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. “Oh and you brought a friend. Great.” 
“Mr. Murray, we were just ab—”
He’s quick to cut her off with a hand, “Chloe. Stop talking.”
Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.
“Get up.”
She’s pushing herself off the ground instantly while you’re still on the floor catching up with what the hell’s going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.
You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. That’s to say, you’re feeling a little exposed.
You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.
“How old are you, honey?” Even without the blatant ogling, that’s never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.
Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing. 
“Hey, don’t be rude. I asked you a question.” He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 
Somehow, you feel like there’s no answer here that would help you. 
The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, “We don’t have time for this.”
Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. “I think we got plenty of time.”
“I disagree.”
All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.
The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isn’t in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didn’t make a peep whenever he came in.
Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago. 
“Hood..” the bossman says measuredly. “What are you doing here?”
He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. “Just thought I’d check up on you, Murray. Make sure you’re not causing trouble in light of our agreement.” He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.
He waves that off easily, “This is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.”
Hood takes a piqued breath. “You picked a bad time to lie to me,” he says flatly.
Murray shakes his head, “Look, we’re just cleaning up a mess. No harm.”
“Really?”
“This clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girl—Chloe, get out. She’s fine, she’s not talking.”
Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.
He continues, “We only need to kill one of them.” He says it like this is an ideal compromise. You’re feeling differently.
Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. “I’m thinking it’s implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.” He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murray’s head.
Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Hey, an alliance is an alliance!”
Hood wavers his head to the side, “Alliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybe…”
The short man pipes up, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.”
“That’s the spirit,” Hood quips, lowering his gun.
The older one shakes his head, “We don’t have anything on her, she’ll talk.”
The short man demurs, “We don’t know that—”
“She saw too much, we can’t have her walking around with that information,” Murray says, moving towards you. 
Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”
Murray scoffs, “You were gonna kill me!”
Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, “And I still might!”
Boldly, Murray steps up to him.
But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. “Let's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight you’re winning?”
The look on Murray’s face tells you it’s not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.
It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it. 
Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him. 
Murray splutters, watching you go. “You can’t—I-I know people.”
“I am people,” Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.
Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.
His stride doesn’t even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, it’s silent between you.
After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. “That uh, that seems like something he’s gonna be mad about.”
He huffs, “Yeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess it’s a personal choice.”
You frown at his tone, “What’s your problem?”
That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. “Why the hell are you out here?”
His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. “Why are you out here? You have a concussion.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” he grumbles. “And I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isn’t your best move right now.”
You try to stop and face him but he doesn’t let you, keeping you moving along with him. “That’s what we’re doing? Really?” 
Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. He’s proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so you’re really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He won’t acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that there’s no way he doesn’t have. Especially if he’s acting like this. 
He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. “Did they say anything about a drug shipment?”
This is what we’re talking about? Sure. Fine. At least you’re talking. 
You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”
He tries again, “What about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?”
“I…I don’t know.” You weren’t exactly taking notes behind the bar counter. 
His head drops down heavily, “Okay, I think I’m seeing a trend for how this conversation’s gonna go...”
You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks it’s you who’s handling this discussion poorly. “You cannot be serious right now.”
He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, “Just—why’d they let Chloe go?”
You blink a few times, “I mean, she has a drug problem…” You guess that might be where she’s getting them from…
He nods solemnly, “Okay.”
You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope he’ll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room. 
“Are you—” you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air. 
A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, “Really?”
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One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like it’s no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.
Count ‘em up, that’s one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.
You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it. 
So when you walk out from the bathroom, you’re a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water. 
Maybe it’s his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.
He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.
He doesn’t look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence. 
“You got any bandages left?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder. 
You stare at him incredulously. 
After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. “What?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I—” he squints, eyes flickering across your face. “No?”
You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.
He stares back, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you want me to say...”
You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. “You know what, I think I know what your problem is.”
He gives a laugh with little life to it. “I only have one?”
You bite down on your lip, “You only have one I’m ready to kill you over.”
He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, “What is it?”
You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. “That you’re an idiot,” you mutter. You start to walk away  before turning around again after a few steps. “Where the hell have you been?”
He blinks, “Uh, there’s just been a lot of—”
“Bullshit.”
He’s about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, sitting back. “I…wasn’t prepared for this conversation,” he says carefully.
You scoff with a nod, “Yeah, neither was I, but it’s happening. I m—what did you think was going to happen here? I—you kissed me, you kissed me!”
“No I—” he huffs, “I shouldn’t have done that, okay?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. “What do you want me to say?”
You shrug without genuinity, “Anything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.”
He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”
“I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!”
He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. It’s quiet for long enough that you start to think he’ll accept the silence as his cue to leave. You’re not sure if you want him to or not.
You take a deep breath, eyes closed. “I need you to start being straight with me. Now.”
He doesn’t look up, taking his time to find his words. “I am sorry,” he tells you. “I…I’m not good at this. I’m not good with words so I shouldn’t have fucking done it.”
Honestly you weren’t expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so you’re not prepared to weigh out whether or not it’s a good one.
“I like you...a lot. And I didn’t know—I don’t know—what to do about it so I kissed you and I didn’t think it through, and…I guess I panicked.”
That’s more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesn’t take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. “I would’ve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.”
He nods to himself. “Jus’ depends..” he says quietly.
And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. You’ve run out of angry words to spit and he’s run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like you’re done.
The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldn’t find a name for it. It’s got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollow…maybe just softer. 
He cuts through your thoughts before you can, “Are you mad that I kissed you?”
You shake your head, “No. I’m mad about what happened after.” You’re just mad about what happened after. Should’ve said just.
He thinks about that for a moment. 
“I can be honest with you,” he tells you. The way he says it, it’s somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.
You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him. 
He goes on, “I trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.”
You blink a few times, processing. “I…I don’t know anything about you.”
He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.
It doesn’t though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.
It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if he’s crazy for doing it.
He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.
You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.
You’re not revealed to much more of his face than you’d already seen before, but entirely in view like this, he’s a sight. You try not to stare but there’s little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternative…
All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.
He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. “My name is J…” he says with assurance. “Todd,” he tacks on.
You don’t mean to, really, but you’re sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind. 
J…Todd…J…Jay…Todd…Jason…Todd…
Your mouth hangs open, “You’re Jason Todd. You’re de—” Well a couple things are starting to add up. “How are you…how are you not—”
He waves that away, tiredly. “It's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.”
Autopsy scar. Fuck. 
“I mean, I’ll…” he hesitates, “I’ll tell you if you want me to.”
He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. You’re quick to shake your head, “It’s okay.”
He nods, likely relieved.
You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. You’d half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.
You close your eyes before asking, “Who’s Nocturna?”
“She’s just this woman that’s been causing trouble for us.”
You don’t say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. “She’s more annoying than anything.”
You open your eyes, looking over. “Yeah?”
He shrugs, “Just trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.”
You give a laugh that’s barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..
There’s the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.
He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. “I have to go...” He says reluctantly.
You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. “Go where?”
He pauses before telling you,  “A cemetery.”
You nod vacantly, “Oh. Just for fun, or…?”
He gives a dry laugh, “Just meeting an associate. They’re a bit dramatic, so.”
“Yeah, I’d say.”
“I’ll come back—I’m going to come back,” he mutters against your hairline.
You don’t respond, but you both know he’s good for his promise.
He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it. 
He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. “Here,” he says, looking you in the eye. “If you need anything. Anything.”
You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like he’s thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.
You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.
Huh.
Must be official. 
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🧨 reblog or die (this is a threat) 🧨
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monamipencil · 4 months
Text
— angel eyes | l.sm
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⋆ summary; though seokmin and you are focused on building a good relationship, you both forget an integral part of it. sex. or, in which you both have sex after being together for one year.
⋆ pairings; seokmin x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, angst (a teeny bit), fluff, established relationship ⋆ w.c; 3.7k+ ⋆ warnings; soonyoung slander, they're both horny and didn't have sex for no reason, seokmin is a loveable idiot, insecurities, oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex (she's on pills), creampie, he's shy and adorable, mentions of food. ⋆ a/n; ty to the anon that came up with this idea. man, i love writing this guy.
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Seokmin takes a deep breath for the nth time and rolls down the windows. He sighs, unbuttoning his shirt a bit to rid the hotness in the car. His hand moves to turn up the air cooler, but he stops halfway, eyes falling on your figure. You’re curled up in the passenger seat, pulling his coat tighter around you. 
A soft smile graces his features as he shifts focus to the road again. The events of the night slip away from his mind easily as you replace them. Seokmin has never felt happier than with you. It’s easier to breathe around you, easy to be himself around you, easy to feel loved and love you back. Everything has been so easy, and he feels content with the relationship. 
In fact, Seokmin even planned on going on one knee just 3 months into the relationship. He couldn’t help it. Everything flew naturally with you. And just like that, certain things didn’t even occur to him. Too focused on being in love, you both completely forgot about an integral part of a relationship. Sex.
The hard thing (no pun intended) is this had only been brought out to the limelight when one of his friends, Soonyoung, joked about it, unknowingly after your first anniversary. “Oh? Have you both even done it?” 
Soonyoung did not expect the absolute silence that followed, which affirmed his statement. The air felt too thick for him, and he could hear his heart thrumming in his ear. The awkwardness quickly dissolved when Mingyu made a mess, and everyone jumped to bully him. Since then, it lingered in his mind like a ghost, and his cheeks burnt up coyly.
He wasn’t embarrassed, per se, but shy. He was never embarrassed about the relationship at any point. Always proud that you both were taking things slow and smooth, earning comments of marriage from others frequently. 
And it's not like Seokmin shied away from the topic of sex either. He is a gentleman, not an idiot. And a bit shy. 
Hence, exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes the rest of the night. Soonyoungs joke shed a different light on you, and he found himself catching the details he usually missed.  Your cleavage that was slightly exposed when you bent forward, the curve of your ass when he placed his hand on your waist, the softness of your hips, and your soft, pretty lips, he found himself thinking about for the rest of the night. 
But you were seemingly unaffected by any of it. You were your usual self, and when he shied away from your eyes, you simply pinched his cheeks and kissed the corner of his lips to silently say, “it’s ok.” 
The kiss lingers on his skin warmly. He lifts his hand to caress your cheeks and smiles when you lean into his touch. But that smile drops when the strap of your dress falls, exposing your cleavage. With your curled-up position facing him, he can see it clearly.
Seokmin shifts his gaze back to the road, sporting a blush and a raging boner.
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From then on, he had tried to initiate sex more often. Keyword; tried. 
He stopped by a convenience store to buy some condoms but ended up completely off the track and bought some of his childhood snacks.
“Honey, I’m home!” He announces, making his way to you with a big smile. You greet him back, “Hi baby,”
“You won’t believe what I found!” He exclaims, showing off the goods he bought, and you tilt your head, squinting at the plastic bags of snacks. “My childhood snacks! I actually went to buy-” Oh, right. He went to buy condoms. 
“Mhm, what did you want to buy?” you ask, fully focusing on him with a small smile. 
“I—well, uh.. I forgot.” He stutters under your gaze, and you chuckle, finding him adorable. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you take some of the snacks from his. “Come on, let’s store them.” 
“Huh? Ye—yeah.” 
...
At least he’s trying. 
He even googles up stuff! Countless articles pop up, and Seokmin is surprised to find that multiple people actually resonated with his problem. But it also worries him, and his heart sinks reading said articles — In a sexless relationship? Instant red flag! — Sexual incompatibility and its effects on long-term relationships — 6 ways to find out that your partner hates yo-
He slams the laptop shut and buried his face in his hands. Trying to ignore the lump in his throat, he rubs his face over and over again. Tears prick his waterline, and he can’t bite back the sob that rakes from his chest. What if you do hate him? 
The insecurity gnaws at his heart, and he feels disgusted with himself. Seokmin hugs the pillow for some comfort and falls asleep within minutes. 
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God damn Soonyoung.
You groan out loudly, removing your hands from between your thighs and catching your breath. Ever since he brought it up, you found yourself like this often. Naked, horny, and sopping wet. You sigh heavily and turn around your bed, caressing his side of the bed. 
Your boyfriend is fucking hot. He’s the most gorgeous man you know. Call it an exaggeration, but it is true. He’s a piece of art. And you? Well, you’re a woman. 
A woman who has fallen head over heels for him. 
Getting to know him through the first months of your relationship, you came to know about his gentle nature, and as others say, he’s god-sent, something you can’t deny. He’s got it all. Personality, looks, a rare kind of optimism, and certainly a good dick. (yes. You were going through an album he shared with you, consisting of old pictures from college and school, and interestingly enough, there was a mirror selfie of his naked self, sporting a boner.) 
And being honest, Seokmin is quite naïve at times, and any horny feelings were unintentionally locked up in favor of taking things slow. You didn’t want to mess up things, and you see a future with him, leading to subconsciously pushing away intimate moments. 
That is until Soonyoung opened the floodgates.
You groan again. Just because Soonyoungs words elicited a positive response from you doesn’t mean the same for Seokmin. He couldn’t even look at you after that, and with much of your efforts, you brought the relationship back to normal. But things are going south again, with him seemingly avoiding you. It is hard to do so when you are actively living with someone, but he is pent-up at work lately. 
With another curse, you sit up, determined to set things straight, Not by talking, but by some other means. 
He’s always stressed and tense from work, and what better stress-buster there is than sex? Checking the time, you smirk. There’s more than enough time to make extra preparations as well.
...
You’re lying on the bed again with a giddy feeling as you anxiously wait for your boyfriend to return him. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to check yourself in the mirror again. You bathed, sprayed his favorite perfume, and applied a bit of gloss, wanting to keep it natural. You’re wearing sexy white lingerie, not too provocative and not too boring, it was perfect. And since you didn’t want to give your boyfriend a heart attack, you wore one of his t-shirts, covering the lingerie. 
The sound of the front door opening has you sitting up in a frantic and your heart races when you hear his usual “Honey, I’m home!” you take deep breaths to ease your nerves and go outside to greet him. His back is turned to you as he removes his shoes and places them on the rack at the entrance. You hug his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his upper back. 
“Missed you,” you pout. You missed him so fucking much. Seokmin was taking mental escapes, and it really hurt to not see his usual happy-go-lucky self. 
He freezes under your touch, and you sigh. He turns in your embrace and smiles sweetly at you, murmuring a soft, “missed you too.” Before slotting his lips on yours. Your hands come up to hold his face and deepen the kiss. He hums against your lips, one of his hands move to your waist and the other to your face. 
He breaks the kiss, but not before another sweet peck. But you pull him in for another by grabbing his tie. He gasps when you bite his lip, giving you the perfect chance to slip in your tongue. He pulls you flush against him, fingers digging into your waist. You caress his hair and wrap your arms around his shoulder. The feeling of his tongue on yours is ecstatic, and you drown yourself in his scent.
You walk backward, slowly leading him to the bedroom. You gasp when he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him. He gasps for breath and walks into the bedroom. Seokmin knows where this is leading, but he hasn’t processed any of what is happening now. 
He’s drunk on your scent, and the way you look at him makes him oblige to you, like a man lured by a siren. You don’t cease your kisses but reduce them to pecks and slowly move from his lips to his neck. He grunts lowly, feeling you sucking and nibbling on his sensitive skin. 
He sets you down on the bed, quickly moving to undo his tie, but you pull him down to the bed and straddle his hips. You bite back a moan, feeling his hard cock graze your thigh and continue your attack on his neck. He tilts his neck, giving you space, and rests his hands on your bare thighs, slowly moving them under the tee to your—oh.
The reality of what is happening dawns upon him as his fingers graze the lazy material of your panties. Seokmin gently pulls you away, gripping your shoulders as he looks at you with a bewildered look. 
“Shit. Do—do you not want this?” he watches your face morph through multiple emotions, and he notices the tears forming. 
“Wait, no. No! that’s not—wait. Please?” You nod, waiting for him. 
But Seokmin cannot form a word for the life of him, and he panics, uttering continuous ‘I’s and ‘uhm’s. He gives up, sighing and catching your eyes on him. Fuck. His cock twitches in his pants, and he can’t help the nasty thoughts that form in his mind. 
“Just,” he breathes in, closing his eyes before finding yours again. “Fuck me, please.”
You close the gap between you two, kissing his lips tenderly. Gently pushing him back, you make him lay on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You sigh against his lips, resting your forehead on his and silently searching for reassurance in his eyes. That reassurance comes with him pushing your hips down to his. 
You sit up, smiling prettily at him before removing his t-shirt. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls agape as he sits up to have a better look. You wore this for him? He rests his hand on your thighs, fixating his eyes on your breasts. You giggle, “you like it?” he nods wordlessly before switching positions. 
Seokmin looks down at your figure, “So pretty.” He whispers before kissing your neck, licking the skin, and nibbling on it. He kisses further and further down till he reaches the valley of your breasts. He looks up at you, catching your eager eyes and shit. The newfound confidence fades away, and his cheeks burn up. 
To add to his shyness, you lift yourself up, undoing the bra and flinging it into some corner. You guide his hands to your breasts, and your nipples harden immediately under his touch. You moan, pushing your chest out, encouraging him to do whatever he fucking wants. 
But you did not expect him to right away wrap his lips on your pebbled nipples as his hand toys with the other. You whimper and moan, turning putty in his hands. His tongue circles around your nipple before he sucks on it. Your panty sticks to your core like a second skin, and you feel more arousal drip through the material. 
He switches to the other one, sucking so diligently on it. Before he could go further below, you stop him. “Wait. I want to see you too.” You whisper breathlessly. 
You help him undress and bite your lips, soaking in his figure. Watching as he slips off his pants, you feel yourself grow hotter. Seokmin looks like what you could only describe as a walking wet dream. Your eyes dart all over his figure. Wide shoulders and strong biceps complemented by a firm chest and a toned abdomen. And, thick thighs complementing his—oh, god. 
Your eyes widen, and your mouth waters as you see the outline of his cock. He’s thick and big. Enough to pleasure you and not enough to hurt. So, in total, it’s perfect. You just want him to bruise your insides and-
Seokmin holds your chin, gently tilting your head up to make you look at him. You look at him through your eyelashes and pout lightly at him while arching your back and closing your arms to push your breasts together.
His cock twitches, leaking pearls of precum that stained his boxers. His chest fills with confidence at the way you are reacting to him. Even he cannot comprehend what he's doing. Your effect on him is that powerful. 
He takes you by surprise and kneels on the floor. It's his turn to look at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you with need. You lick your lips, watching him as he pulls you to the edge and spreads your legs. He kisses your heat through the lacy material and licks at the patch formed by your arousal. His nose presses against your clit, and you gasp, feeling all the bones in your body weaken as he has his way with you. 
Pulling away, he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties and peels it off you, leaving you bare. It joins the pile of clothes, and he dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. “Fuck!” you arch your back and push your cunt onto his face. His nose directly presses against your clit, and you moan as he basically fucking makes out with your cunt. 
You close your legs around his head and tangle your fingers with his locks, pushing him further. He sucks on the little bundle of nerves, then circles his tongue around it with occasional kitten licks. You tug at his hair harshly, and your moans fill the room along with wet sounds as he eats you out. Feeling the orgasm inching closer, you force his mouth off you. 
“Need you,” you whimper, grabbing his face and kissing him. He moans into your mouth as you roughly push your tongue past his lips, tasting yourself on him. His cock twitches with need when you rake your nails down his nape and shoulders. Seokmin grows hotter, thinking about your hands pumping his cock as you suck on his tip. 
You pull away to get down on your knees and hook your finger under the hem of his boxers as he stands up. You pull it down, gawking at his hard, twitching cock, and take him in your hands. His cock rests heavy in your hands, and you couldn’t care less about the cold floor biting your knees. You give the tip an experimental lick, tasting his precum while batting your eyelashes up at him. 
You grin, satisfied when he throws his head back, groaning at a small lick. Without warning, you take half of his length in your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feeling of it resting heavily on your tongue. He tangles his fingers in your hair, looking down at you while he moans a string of curses. Wrapping your fingers around his base, you pump his length and swirl your tongue around his tip. 
You bounce your head up and down his cock, getting used to his girth. You pull away momentarily, and a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. Licking your lips, you maintain eye contact with him and wrap your lips around his length once again. But this time, you take his full length in your mouth, gagging and enjoying how he fills you up. You hold his thighs for support, sliding his cock out fully before taking him again. 
You do this a couple of times and feel him twitching in your mouth. Seokmin pulls your mouth off his cock, biting his lips in vain to prevent moaning at the erotic sight before him. You know how to put that mouth to use. A few more seconds and he would’ve cummed down your throat. 
With a huff, he pulls you up and backs you to the bed. You lay on the soft sheet, letting him take control. You gasp when he teases his tip on your folds, coating it in your arousal, and he moans, feeling your warmth and wetness. His tip nears your entrance, stretching past your folds, and then—
“Shit. Condoms,” he curses, eyes snapping towards yours in worry. You chuckle, finding your dumbfounded boyfriend adorable. “I’m on pills. Don’t worry.”  
His eyebrows crease, “Since when?”
“Since that dinner. Couldn’t stop thinking about you and your cock.” 
A light blush settles on his cheek, and he smiles at you, shaking his head. He pushes his hair back to calm himself down, and you sigh, finding him hot. There he sits on his knees, between your legs, and a coat of sweat glistens on his skin. He looks ethereal and hot. Yeah, you’d let him rearrange your insides. 
He chuckles, finding your lusty eyes ogling him. “You’re making me shy!” 
And you hook your arms under your knees, pulling your legs to your chest. You bite your lips with a sultry look on your face, and he groans, watching your pussy glisten under the light. He readjusts himself, feeling your folds with his tip again. 
You gasp and moan as his length fills you up, stretching your walls. You haven’t had sex in over a year, and you’re feeling the effects now. Tears well up, and you close your eyes, attempting to adjust to his length. Seokmin leans down, kissing your tears away, and you open your eyes, finding his chocolate eyes staring at you with love and lust.
“Shit. Is it too much? I can pull out, baby.” He softly says, voice laced with concern. You shake your head, whispering a ‘no.’ You lift your head up, slotting your lips against his.
You hook your hands around his nape, deepening the kiss. He holds your waist as you wrap your legs around his hips, holding still till you adjust. Your gummy walls grip his length tightly, making his head spin. After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, taking a deep breath and nodding at him. 
Seokmin pulls out slowly, leaving only his tip in before slowly sinking back. You both moan in unison when he fills up again. He does this a few times before settling into a comfortable and pleasurable pace. You moan with each snap of his hips towards yours, eyes rolling back in pleasure. His cock kisses your walls in all the right places.
His moans mix with yours in the bedroom, along with the sounds of your hips meeting. Your cunt squeezes his cock, and the wetness allows him to easily slide his cock in and out of you. The feeling of your arousal coating his cock is sinful, and your naked skin on his makes warmth pool in his chest. 
He catches your lips in a sensual kiss, slowing down his pace. His tongue slides against yours easily, wandering your mouth. Your arousal drips down, sticking to his balls with each thrust. You bite his lower lip, making him whine into your mouth, and fasten his pace a bit. You slide your hand between your bodies to stimulate your clit, but he beats you to it.
Long, slender fingers rub at your clit, drawing in your orgasm. You buck your hips up, desperately meeting his cock and fingers. Seokmin moans when you clench his cock, speeding up his climax. You whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, and he feels his cock twitch as well. His pace stutters, turning erratic as he kisses you messily. 
With a moan of his name, you cum on his cock and hold onto him for dear life. He follows suit, hips stuttering to a halt as ribbons of cum paint your walls. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath. You sigh in bliss, his warm cum filling you up to the brim. 
He pulls out, falling to your side and instantly pulling you into a cuddle. His cum oozes out, and it should feel dirty, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like home, warm and cozy, with his cum filling up your cunt. 
“I love you,” he whispers into your ear, and you giggle, feeling his breath tickle you. You can’t see him, but you feel his smile. “I love you too, baby.” And you giggle again when he kisses your neck, accidentally tickling you again.
His strong hands wrap around you comfortingly. And a serene silence envelops you both. Only for a while, though, “should I order pizzas?” 
You heartily laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and peck his cheeks. He adorably grins at you, pulling you closer. You rest your head on his chest, hugging him with a lazy smile. 
“Was that ok?” he voices out.
“Hmm, the pizza?” 
His chest reverberates as he chuckles, “No—I mean yes. That’s also there but…” 
“Was the … sex good?” he finishes, and you look up, meeting his curious eyes tinged with insecurity. But you smile brightly at him, nodding, “The best I’ve ever had.” His eyes widen before he squints at you playfully. 
“Don’t lie, it was that good?”
“Yep. 10/10. Best cock in the world.”
You both laugh, and he adds, “your...” He coughs, “uhhh...” He gives up, gesturing towards your heat and nodding in acknowledgment. Your body shakes with laughter, and he hides his face shyly. You remove his hands and kiss his face, hugging him closer. Silence settles again, and you feel content in his arms before he speaks again. 
“Also, pizza ok?” 
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially
@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @pan-de-seungcheol
(send an ask to be added on the taglist!)
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2K notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 2 months
Text
crushin' | jason todd
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Summary: Barbara invites you to dinner with the Bats. She's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the Bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. Little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings/tags: batfam shenanigans, dick is a good meddling brother and deserves a fruit basket, fluff and humor, kissing, crushes, love confessions. just wanted to write something sweet and light :)
the divider
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"So you're gonna press this," Barbara says, demonstrating on her own screen.
You follow along, clicking and typing. She nods.
"Good. Then you're gonna do this."
You open the file. A video of what looks to be Bruce drunkenly hula-hooping pops up. Your eyes widen.
"And that's how you keep Bruce in check," Barbara says, patting your shoulder. "Use sparingly. Only when he's getting on your last nerve."
"Wow," you say. "Babs, I... I don't know if I should have this kind of power."
"No, it's cool. I have dirt on everyone in this family, so really, it's my power. You're the only one who gets to see the vault."
You look at her. "You scare me."
She grins. "Thanks! Anyway, you're free to go. They'll be back from the mission soon, so our job is pretty much over."
The computer beeps. She checks the notification and types back. Then she hums.
"Or, you can, y'know, join us for dinner. Alfred keeps wondering when you'll do so."
You press your lips together. "I dunno, Babs... are you sure? I don't want to intrude."
"You're not. Seriously. And you know what I just found out? Jason will be here too."
Well. That does certainly stop your refusal in its tracks. You haven't seen Jason properly since he returned. You feel a pang of guilt at that; true, he's never at the Manor, at least not when you're around. But you could've reached out by now.
Still, being able to see him again properly is a wonderful opportunity. One you can't pass up.
"Okay," you say. "I'll join you all. As long as Alfred's okay with it."
She rolls her eyes, smiles. "Don't be ridiculous. C'mon."
You follow her to the elevator Bruce got installed for her. In the Manor, most of the family are sitting down to dinner. Damian and Cass are on one side of the table. Bruce is at the head. Alfred is still bustling in the kitchen.
You start to pull out the chair next to Cass, but Barbara startles you.
"That's Dick's chair!" She smiles sympathetically. "Sorry. He's particular. Isn't he, guys?"
"Yes," Cass says. "He's comfortable here."
"I've no idea what you're referring to, Gordon," says Damian. He nods at you. "Hello."
You smile. "Hey, Damian. That's fine. I'll sit next to you, Babs." You sit in the middle of three chairs, with Barbara on your right and an empty chair on your left.
"Hi, Cass. Hello, Mr. Wayne."
"Bruce," he reminds you. That's not happening. It feels way too weird to call him Bruce, even though you've known him since Jason was Robin. Just, no.
Cass smiles. "Hello. Glad to have you."
"Where's Tim and Duke?" you ask.
"Thomas is at university," Damian says. "Drake is probably with that idiot clone he calls a boyfriend."
Bruce looks up. "Tim and Connor are dating?"
"Good God," Barbara mumbles.
"Well, yes, Father. They've been dating for quite some time, even shared a room together. Last month, Drake went undercover in Atlantic City and the clone—"
"Old man! Where are you?"
"Jason, just—"
"Shut it, Dickhead."
The grandfather clock swings open, revealing the Cave entrance. Up stomps Jason, followed by Dick. Jason has a smear of purple goo on his forehead, but otherwise is clean. His back is to you.
Jason points an accusing gloved finger at Bruce. "You owe me a new bike, new guns, new gear, new phone, new—"
"Jason, slow down. Why exactly do I owe you new things?" Bruce asks.
"Because Tweedle-Dum here didn't scan the fuckin' spaceship that landed in Syracuse and melted my bike with purple goo!"
"It said it was empty," Dick says tiredly. "How was I supposed to know an abandoned ship would spit goo?"
"Okay, alright, boys, don't fight. Yes, Jason, I'll compensate everything you lost in Syracuse."
"Yeah, you will. And a new fridge." Jason thinks. "And a new TV."
"Master Jason," Alfred begins, walking into the dining room with a dish of roasted potatoes. "You may continue your bargaining with Master Bruce after dinner. Wipe that alien sludge off your face and have a seat."
Jason sighs. "Alf, I appreciate the invite, but you know I don't dine with most of the folks at this table. Gets real fuckin' crowded."
"Master Jason, watch your language," Alfred says sternly. "We have a guest. Behave like the young man I raised you to be."
Jason scoffs. "Who, Barbie? She doesn't—" He turns and stops, staring at you.
You smile, suddenly self-conscious. "Hi."
He swallows, eyes wide. "Hi. Hey."
"Aren't you staying for dinner?" you ask, confused. "Barbara said you were."
"I—" He glances at Barbara, then looks at you. "Uh. Well. I don't really..."
"C'mon, Jay, you guys should catch up!" Dick says brightly, already seated.
Jason's mouth sours as he turns to Dick. You pull out the chair next to you and tap the seat.
"You can sit next to me," you say, looking up at Jason.
He immediately turns back to you, lips parted. "Oh. I—y-yeah. Sure. Thanks."
"Master Jason. The goo," Alfred reminds, raising a brow. "And hang up your jacket."
Jason quickly backs up and bumps into the table corner. He winces.
"Right. I'm gonna... yeah. Be right back."
Jason disappears down the hall. Dick grins wolfishly at Barbara.
"You're amazing," he says.
"I know," she says, shrugging.
Alfred serves the last tray of vegetables, then sits. Jason soon returns, gloves and jacket away and goo-free.
"Did you style your hair, Todd?" Damian asks.
"No. Shut it." Jason scoots in his chair, glaring at his brother. But when you pass him the tray of roast, his expression softens. He smiles at you.
"Thanks," he says, and puts three slices on his plate. "Great roast, Alf."
"You haven't tried it," Alfred says, but looks very pleased.
"Don't need to."
"We're very glad you're here, Jason," Bruce says. "All things considered—"
Jason holds up a hand. "Ah-ah. I'm not here for you, old man. Save the speech for another day."
"And who are you here for, Jason?" Dick asks, propping his chin on his hands.
"None of your beeswax, Dick."
Dick shrugs. Damian begins to talk about an art project in school. You pay the appropriate amount of attention until Jason nudges your arm.
"Hey," he says, nodding at your empty glass. "Didja get something to drink?"
"Oh." Heat creeps up your neck. "Um, no. Sorry. I didn't know where to get the drinks."
"'S okay. Alf doesn't put out drinks anymore 'cause everybody drinks something different. You just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll get it for ya."
"Jason, you don't have to—"
He holds up a hand, smiling. "C'mon, none of that. You're a guest. Orange Fanta, right?"
You blink. "You remembered."
"Uh." His cheeks go pink. "I mean, yeah. No biggie. I'll be back."
Jason stands. Immediately, the others pounce.
"Are you going to the kitchen?" Dick asks.
"No," Jason says.
"Can you get me another Diet Coke?"
"Todd, if you're going to the kitchen, I would like another lemonade, please," Damian says.
"I just said I'm not going to the—"
"Master Jason, will you please bring this into the kitchen?" Alfred asks, holding up an empty tray.
Jason heaves a sigh. You wince.
"Sorry," you whisper.
He shakes his head and winks. "Nah, 's not you."
Obediently, Jason takes the tray and goes to the kitchen. He returns with a Diet Coke, which he tosses at Dick, who catches it with one hand, and a bottle of lemonade, which he throws to Damian who also catches it with one hand and a scowl. Finally, Jason opens the Orange Fanta for you and gently pours it into your glass, then sets the half-full can next to your plate. He sits down.
"Of course they get special treatment," Dick mumbles into his drink.
The table rattles, and Dick winces, squinting at Jason. The table rattles again, and Jason hisses.
"Boys," Bruce says wearily. "Enough."
"Yeah, Jason," Dick says, sticking his nose up. "Y'know it's my birthday soon. I deserve a brother who doesn't kick me."
"Oh, I'll tell ya what you deserve," Jason begins.
"Are we doing laser tag?" Cass pipes up from the end.
"'Course we are! Everybody's gonna be there." Dick looks pointedly at Jason. "Except my own brother. He refused."
You look at Jason, who's got a nasty glower aimed at Dick.
"You're not coming?" you ask.
Jason's expression melts away when he turns to you. "Uh, I mean—"
"No, he's not," Dick says, pulling the saddest pout you've ever seen. "He said he wanted nothing to do with my stupid birthday."
"Those weren't my exact words."
"They were very close," Damian says.
"Shut—"
"Jason, I can't believe you aren't going to Dick's birthday," Barbara says, shaking her head.
Jason's mouth falls open. "Et tu, Barbie?"
"You should come," you say, touching Jason's arm.
He immediately looks at your hand. You slowly remove it, smiling sheepishly.
"Then we can be a team," you say. "We're playing doubles. I'm horrendously bad at laser tag, but I bet we'd win together. I'd watch your six."
"Leaving them in the lurch, Jason?" Barbara tuts. "So unlike you."
Jason heaves a sigh. "For God—okay. Alright, brother mine. You win."
You beam. "So you'll come?"
"'Long as you and I are a team," Jason says, a little shy.
You bump his shoulder with yours. "Of course."
Dick looks at you. "You should join us for dinner every night."
You laugh bashfully. "Thanks, Dick."
Dinner goes on. Bruce excuses himself early, as do Cass and Damian. Soon, it's the four of you plus Alfred cleaning up after dinner. You and Jason are loading the dishwasher when Jason hisses. He pulls out his hand, revealing a thin red cut on his palm.
"Are you okay?" you ask, hovering worriedly.
"Yeah, 'm fine. I'll take the tray—"
"Jason, no," Dick says, herding him away from the dishwasher. "You have to get that wrapped immediately."
"What are you—dude, it's a tiny cut—"
"Yeah, but there was food on there, and you have no idea what can get into the wound and make you sick," Barbara says seriously. "You need to get it cleaned right now."
Jason rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. There's a first aid kit in the closet."
"There isn't!" Dick says, shooing Jason toward you. "Alfred hasn't restocked it. You have to go to the Cave. You should both go."
"Yes, great idea," Barbara says, looking at you. "You have medical experience, don't you?"
"I mean, a little, but—"
"More than us!" Dick says, shoving you both towards the hallway.
"I don't think so..."
"You take care of Jaybird here, he needs that hand," Dick says cheerily, opening the Cave entrance. "Go on, go."
"Christ on a bike," Jason mumbles, and heads down the stairs.
You follow, confused and concerned. The entrance slides closed. Jason goes to the medbay, muttering under his breath as he digs through one of the drawers with one hand. You join him, searching the top drawer for the antiseptic spray.
"Is the cut really bad?" you ask, trying to get a better look.
"No. My brother's just an idiot. Nothin' new."
You pull out the spray, some gauze, and a bandaid. Jason nods in thanks and goes to take it.
"I can do it," you say. "I do have medical experience, after all."
He snorts. "Fine by me."
You both sit on the edge of a cot. You turn to Jason and pull his hand into your lap. He inhales sharply. You stop.
"Is this okay?" you ask.
"Y-yeah. Fine. Sorry. I don't get touched a lot." Jason's mouth screws up. "Ugh. That sounded weird."
You laugh. "It's fine, I know what you meant."
He scratches the back of his neck while you clean his hand. He has big hands. Bigger than you remember. They're deeply scarred and calloused. You rub your thumbs over the pads of his fingers without thinking.
"You got soft hands," Jason says quietly.
"Heh. Thanks. The computer life."
He hums. "I didn't know you were working with Babs."
The guilt swims back full force.
"I know. I'm sorry. I should've reached out, Jason. I-I basically ignored you. Not on purpose! I just... I guess I wasn't sure where we stood and I thought maybe you'd be mad I was working for Batman after everything and I was afraid that we wouldn't—"
"Hey, whoa. 'M not mad." Jason finds your gaze. You frown. "I'm serious. I don't mind that you're working for Bruce. I mean, hell, I do too, on occasion. Mostly I just bitch at him."
You giggle. He smiles. You're still holding his hand. You don't really want to let go. Jason doesn't seem to want to pull away either.
"Well, even so, I'm sorry for not reaching out. I did miss you, Jason. And I'm glad you're back."
He clears his throat, ducking his head. "Huh. Well, I missed you too. And y'got nothin' to apologize for. I could've asked about you."
"Well—"
"Uh-uh, no, I'm the king of self-deprication. Y'can't take that from me," Jason says, eyes dancing with mirth.
You sigh dramatically. "Fine, fine. Can we say that we both could've reached out?"
"That's agreeable. And, uh, while we're clearing the air, I'm so terribly sorry 'bout my dumbass brother."
You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"
"Ah, huh. Hm. Well, funny thing. I kinda had a, um, crush on you, before. And Dick has it in his head that I... that I have a chance now. So... yeah."
"Before?" you ask.
You don't know why you're disappointed. It's not like you knew. Except maybe if you had, you wouldn't have missed out. Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much time.
Jason glances at you. "What... why are you sayin' it like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you wish... that I..." He shakes his head. "Forget it."
"Jason," you say, barely a whisper.
He looks at you. His eyes flick to your lips, just for a millisecond. "Yeah?"
"Can I kiss you?"
A beat. Your heart falls.
"Yeah." Jason nods. "Yeah, kiss me."
You heart soars.
You hold Jason's face, still holding his hand. He gingerly touches your neck with his uninjured hand, strokes behind your ear with his thumb. Every nerve alights. You're kissing Jason Todd. The boy you've loved since you were thirteen.
"They did it! They're kissing!"
Jason growls against your mouth. You know it's not aimed at you, but it makes lightning shoot down your spine. Wow.
"'M gonna kill 'im," Jason mumbles.
You smile and pull back, just an inch. "It's nearly his birthday. At least wait till next week."
"Hm." Jason kisses the corner of your mouth. You like him so much. "Fine. Y'know you can convince me of pretty much anything? Wield that power carefully."
You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason braces you with a hand on the small of your back.
"I'm very flattered, but I think you're confused, Jay." A kiss to his jaw. "It's you who has a hold on me."
1K notes · View notes
soobnny · 9 months
Text
stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)
moments they steal a kiss & where they do it
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chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep
it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.
it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.
how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.
“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.
“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”
“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?
it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.
minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive
minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.
“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.
his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.
minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.
you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.
he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.
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changbin. in the gym room against the lockers
“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”
changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.
it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.
when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.
“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.
the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.
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hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies
he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.
you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.
hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.
when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.
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jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away
can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.
he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.
and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.
jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.
you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.
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felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen
in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.
“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.
who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?
he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.
and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.
though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.
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seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library
“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.
seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.
you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.
it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.
it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.
his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.
you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.
when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.
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jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class
jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.
today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.
he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.
similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?
“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.
the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.
“see you on your next break, babe.”
4K notes · View notes
ohimsummer · 2 months
Text
QUIET IN THE LIBRARY !
— minors dni, bully! stsg x reader, dubcon, exhibitionism, óral [ m. receiving ], cóckwarming, facefúcking, pet names (princess, sweetheart, pet)
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geto’s cock rests warm and heavy on your tongue, sprinkling the salty taste of precum onto your tastebuds. he shifts again in his seat, tilting his hips to shove his length a little further down your throat again, knowing it’s going to make you choke—and it does. the tip pushes further towards the back of your throat, nearly forcing a gag to spring free, but you just manage to swallow it down. his other hand rubs a gentle thumb over your cheek—a wordless ‘good pet’ for remaining so quiet.
though you’re not exactly sucking him off, geto is perfectly content sitting with you like this, in the heated embrace of your mouth. he finds it a little comfy, to be honest. the library is chilly, and he prefers the warmth inside you over anything his clothes could provide. not to mention, he’s just getting your mouth ready, so there is an actual purpose to you being down there.
that reason would be entirely unknown to you, however. in your mind, this is just the average day of suguru geto being an asshole, cornering you and stuffing you beneath the most secluded desk and basically forcing you into things you didn’t plan on doing. if you were somewhere else, in any other setting, you would have told him to get fucked and leave you alone because he has no right to be making demands like this. but you’re in public, and a library, of all places. there’s too many people around, and it’s too quiet. someone like geto has surefire ways to have you raising your voice in less than a minute, and you do not need the entire building to know he’s trying to have you cockwarm him under the table. it’s easier to just deal with it; comply and hope he doesn’t plan on using you for too long.
so, yes, you are doing this “willingly”, in the loosest of terms. and it pisses you off that while you’re down here on bruised knees and getting fucking carpet burn, geto is leaned back as casually as he can, still reading through the pages of a book as your jaw grows sore. he’s been still besides the few purposeful thrusts of his hips to get you to choke—asshole.
something catches his attention, and suddenly geto is slipping himself from your lips, tucking his length into his pants. you’re confused, but before you can maneuver yourself out of the cramped underside of the desk, there is someone else sliding into the chair—someone worse.
“heya, princess!”, gojo whispers a little too loudly, with beads of sweat rolling down his face. “comfy down there?”
both your mouth and brows droop down into a scowl, the pair of men plainly amused at your cute, little expression.
“open up, sweetheart,” gojo commands. he’s quick to undo his belt and pants, tugging his cock free from its confines. it’s stiff and throbbing already, leaking absurd amounts of pre down the length to drip onto his hand, where gojo gives himself slow, teasing pumps.
he doesn’t give you time to prepare before he’s shoving his tip past your lips, rubbing himself over the wet insides of your mouth.
“you ran through campus with a boner?”, geto snickers over his head, watchful eyes glancing between gojo’s manhandling of you and the vacant library to keep a lookout.
his snowy-haired other half is loud, making things way more obvious than geto did. not that he isn’t aware, no, gojo simply doesn’t give a fuck. he’s good at a lot of things, but practicing restraint is not one of them, and he damn sure isn’t about to start now. especially not with you.
gojo darts a pink tongue out to wet his lips, messily clearing away locks of your hair to get a nice view of your pretty face as he thrusts sloppily into your mouth. “i c—couldn’t, fu—ck, help it. did you expect me to— to take my time after you sent me that?”
his best friend only gives a low, delighted chuckle in reply. you catch geto’s gaze as he gives you a long stare, and then palms over the bulge in his pants.
“fuck, suguru got you all nice and loose for me.”, gojo pants, licking away a dewdrop of drool at the corner of his lips. he lets out a low groan, and you see geto’s head snap up to give someone a very menacing glare. “look at him makin’ this nice and easy for us. thank him after i’m through, yeah?”
you don’t respond, can’t respond when gojo’s tip incessantly prods at the back of your throat. gags and chokes are ripped from your throat, muffled and low but surely noticeable by anyone nearby. you expect to be caught and kicked out any minute now, forced to do the walk of shame with these two dumbasses.
gojo slams you down on his cock, and he holds you there. your chest stutters, body heaves as you struggle for any breath of air through the fabric of his shirt pressed against your nose, or the white hairs at his base tickling your face.
just as quickly, he’s pulling you away, and you barely breathe in a single gasp before gojo is shooting ropes of cum to paint your face. you squeeze an eye shut as he almost spurts into your eye, him giggling childishly as he thumbs it away and pokes the same finger into your mouth for you to suck clean.
gojo tosses his head back to catch his own breath. he shoves his cock back into his boxers, straightening out his clothes before rubbing his hands through your ruffled hair.
“ ‘kay, let’s go.”, he says proudly, grabbing you by the upper arm to pull you to your feet. “ up, now, we’re going to your dorm.”
you’re puzzled. apparently, they’re not done with you. “…why?”
“you still gotta thank suguru properly. duh.”
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
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One birdritch, two stones.
part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost
“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.
Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”
“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”
“No?”
“No.”
Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”
“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”
“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”
Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.
“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”
“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”
“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.
Tim tilted his head.
“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”
Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.
“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”
“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.
-
The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.
“Hello.”
The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.
Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.
They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.
“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.
They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.
“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.
Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”
“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”
“Explain?”
“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.
Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.
Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.
“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.
“You will come?”
Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”
“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”
“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.
Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.
Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.
“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”
Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.
“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”
“Bruce.”
“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.
Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.
“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.
“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.
Cass signed Danny’s name sign.
“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.
“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”
Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”
“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”
“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.
Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”
“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.
“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.
Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?
-
“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.
“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.
Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.
But that hardly answered any of what was going on.
“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”
Cass nodded and crossed her heart.
Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.
---
AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)
Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.
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corkinavoid · 3 months
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DPxDC Multiverse Police
I've seen the idea that GIW is actually SCP foundation somewhere, and lately, I've been thinking a lot about Fenton Happy Ending, so I bring you this. Behold, GIW/SCP, Team Phantom, and Fentons are working all together, and the whole wide multiverse fears them.
So, a giant green Lazarus Pit that looks more like a vortex than an actual Pit randomly opens in, say, Ohio. Because I heard a lot of weird shit happens in Ohio. The world is worried, JL gets sent there, but they are not exactly sure of what to do with it. Nothing comes out of it, and, well, no one is volunteering to just jump inside it - Batman made everyone read his files on Lazarus Waters, and they are reasonably wary.
But then a thing appears literally out of thin air on top of it. It looks like a spaceship, kind of, but more sci-fi than what real spaceships look like. And before anyone says anything, a large green - Lazarus green - dome appears, effectively covering both the ship and the Pit and cutting the heroes off.
The heroes are Confused (tm). And worried. And no one has an idea of what the fuck is going on, for all they know it could be some kind of yet another alien invasion.
Then, two figures on the hoverboards - one read and one teal - come out of the ship, flying over the Pit. They are followed by drones, and they all look like they are... scanning the Pit? A few more people, wearing black visors and shiny white suits that look like they are packed with all kinds of tech, slide down on the ropes straight inside the Pit. It sure looks like they are very familiar with it and have a good idea of what they are doing, working as a team.
One of the figures on the hoverboard, the one in a teal suit, notices the heroes on the other side of the green dome. She - because both of them look feminine enough - slows down and flies down to the ground, landing in front of Superman and taking off her helmet. It reveals a rather young, no older than twenty years old girl with fiery red hair tied in a bun, with eyes the same color as her suit. She smiles at them.
"Hi, you must be the Justice League?" She asks politely, and as Superman gives her a nod just out of surprise at her friendly attitude, she touches her ear, "Mom, this is DC sector universe. Pretty sure it's not a dimension we've been before, though." She turns back to Superman, "You don't recognize any of this, do you?"
Batman intervenes before Supes has the time to answer, "Who are you?"
The girl nods and taps her ear again, "Yeah, they definitely don't know us. So mark it as either an unfamiliar dimension or an unfamiliar timeline." Then she turns to Batman and smiles.
"You can call us interdimensional police. And since all the Batmans we ever encountered never believed us, I'm going to send you a copy of the files your other versions complied all together, so you can read and add more if you feel like it."
She touches her wrist computer, and, a few moments later, Batman's comm comes online with Oracle's voice:
"B, I'm getting a shit ton of files on... Multiverse Law Enforcement?.. out of nowhere. What's going on?"
Now, JL is baffled. Some of them - Flashes and Bats, for example - knew there was a whole wide multiverse going on, but to learn the multiverse has police? That's new.
Meanwhile, the redhead continues:
"The green thing behind me is a natural portal to the Infinite Realms, the dimension between dimensions. Which is really not what is supposed to be happening, so we are in the process of fixing it. It will take from ten minutes to a few hours, depending on what's on the other side, but the portal will be gone soon, and then I'll have to ask you some questions."
"Questions about what?" Asks Flash, and the girl waves her hand in the air.
"Oh, well, about the portals? If one so big is opening up, it means a few smaller ones had to exist in this dimension already. Our tech is not picking them up if they are smaller than a certain size, but you must have seen them before. I believe in the DC sector, you call them Lazarus Pits? We can take care of them later, too."
The second hoverboarder flies closer to them and revs her engine.
"Jazz, talk to them later, Tucker and Agents are done. Fentons are about to get Dannies down, so you need to either come up or leave the shield."
The girl - Jazz - looks surprised.
"Dan, too?"
"Yeah, it's the Toothy Jungle on the other side. They wanted to ask Ember, but, eh, what's her guitar gonna do to plants, even if they are sentient?" The red hoverboarder shrugs, and Jazz tilts her head, looking back to the heroes.
"I think I'll stay with them. You know it gets violent when Dan goes down, so people get antsy about us. I don't want to give the wrong impression."
The other girl huffs, but doesn't argue.
"Okay. Get out of the shield, then, and for Ancients sake, keep your comm open. Danny has an aneurysm every time you turn it off." With that, she flies away, back to the ship, and Jazz taps her hoverboard so it folds down into a hexagon shape no bigger than a backpack. Then, she steps through the shield, joining the JL on the other side of it.
"Are you not scared we might take you hostage?" Asks Wonder Woman just out of curiosity, and Jazz smiles pleasantly at her.
"Don't judge a girl by her looks. I don't want to brag, but I did fist fight Superman once and won."
----------
So basically, after Amity Park got sucked into Infinite Realms, the whole town just kind of collectively decided they like it there. And somehow they reached a happily ever after with both Danny's reveal to his parents and GIW, and then Clockwork showed up and was like, you guys want human food supply, running water and electricity, right? Well, I can do that, and so much more, you can be the ultimate perfect town. And for the price? You gonna go on adventures from time to time and fix the multiverse when shit hits the fan in various dimensions and universes. Doesn't that sound like fun?
And Amity Park, who's seen so much weird stuff over the years that it greatly affected their idea of common sense, goes yeah, that does sound fun! Let's go, people!
So here they are, appearing in different universes and doing damage control. They are, like, the superheroes for superheroes.
I'm probably going to write a part 2 to it, I want to show off Danny and Dan and Dani too. Halfas on the loose, JL is mildly concerned and kind of scared, and Jazz is just like yeah, that's just another regular Tuesday :)
I love Jazz being a badass, yes. Also, if you didn't get it, the other one on the hoverboard is Val, the drones are controlled by Tucker, and the people on the ropes are GIW agents.
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milkloafy · 3 months
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SILENT BUT RECKLESS — TODOROKI SHOUTO
⋆。˚ ❀ summary: in which pro hero!shouto saves you from getting run over by a car and finds himself immediately enraptured by you.  ⋆。˚ ❀ contents: pro hero!shouto, fluff, gn!reader ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 1.3k ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: aka…pro hero!shouto is a pr nightmare and no u cannot convince me otherwise ! ahdjskc but frl this is so unserious but i miss the og anime loml so here we are :>
Shouto wasn’t exactly known for his talkative nature. 
It was quite the opposite, in fact, with news agencies and magazines often referring to him as the quiet one of the Big Three. Though, he supposed that was better than being known as the one with the family trauma. 
But people often mistook his silence for thoughtfulness, he realized. Or an intense observation of sorts. And while at times that was the case, most times, it was simply because he didn’t have anything to say. 
Shouto blinked as he realized the situation he was in. 
He had just stopped a villain from robbing a luxury clothing store for the third time this month, nothing too exciting, yet the journalists showed up each time for an interview with him after. 
“Sir, we are live,” the reporter reminded with a nervous laugh. “We asked if you had a message for any…”
She kept talking, but Shouto was unable to concentrate. Not because he had heard it millions of times before, but because he noticed a strange movement from the corner of his eyes. 
This was one of the times he was both silent and observant. 
Shouto spotted you crossing the street on your phone, staring at your screen and completely oblivious that a car was headed your way with little to no sign of stopping. 
Without thinking of how it would look to the public for him to ditch an interview mid-sentence, he ran over to you before he even processed his legs moving. Throwing his right arm out in front of him, he sent a wall of ice up to block the vehicle’s predicted path, reaching you just in time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away from the road as the ice began to shatter from the impact. 
The ice wall was thick enough that the car slowed before fully breaking through, but that didn’t stop Shouto from instinctively shielding you with his body in the event that ice shards propelled towards you. 
Once he heard the sound of a crash and alarms, he figured the vehicle was fully stopped and the authorities arrived to assess the situation themselves. Would he get scolded by his agency for putting up an ice wall and potentially damaging someone’s vehicle? It was likely so. But that was better than someone actually getting hit by a car instead. 
The world wanted heroes, but only when they fit into their ideal mold. And while rules and regulations helped keep order in the world, in moments like these when someone’s life was in danger, Shouto couldn’t be bothered to care.
Slowly, his body relaxed and he was able to finally take a look at you. At the person who, for some reason, was so focused on their phone they didn’t notice a car coming at them. 
Any criticisms that threatened to come out of his lips stayed there once he got a good look at your features. He found himself taken aback by how beautiful you looked, though he quickly cleared his throat and recovered from his blatant staring. 
“Be careful when you’re crossing the street,” said Shouto, walking over to a section of grass and away from the commotion that was happening on the road, with you still in his arms. “What was keeping you so occupied?” 
You looked up at him guiltily, your phone clutched between your hands. “I was trying to order my food…” 
He blinked. As a pro hero, he shouldn’t be one the judge victims. But he couldn’t help but raise his brow just a bit. 
“I was really hungry,” you said sheepishly, hiding your face in embarrassment. “But I can’t believe I was so focused on my order I didn’t realize the car wasn’t stopping!” You sighed to yourself before meeting Shouto’s eyes once more. “Thank you for saving me, Shouto. I’m sure you had much more pressing matters to attend to instead of saving some random person off the street.”
He shook his head. “That’s the most important part of the job. Saving people.” 
You smiled gratefully at him and he almost had to look away from your dazzling grin. “Well, thank you for saving this idiotic person right here.” You gestured towards yourself. “Still, I hope my order went through…”
A mixture between a snort and a laugh escaped his lips. You had almost gotten run over and your biggest concern was whether or not your dinner was on its way? 
“It’s didn’t!” you cried in exasperation as you peeked at your phone. “Well, I might as well get a convenience store meal at this point.” Sighing, you leaned your head against his chest for a brief moment of comfort. “By the way, you can set me down now. I think people are taking pictures of us.” 
“Oh,” said Shouto, “right.”
Carefully, he loosened his hold on you and set your feet carefully onto the floor. Before fully letting go of you, he made sure you were stable and steady. For some, it took a while for the events to process and the panic to settle in, and he wanted to ensure you were truly okay. 
You had a worried look on your face as you noticed the video cameras still focused on the two of you. 
“Will you get in trouble for this?” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. 
“For rescuing someone from a getting hit by a car and talking to them after?” He considered things for a moment. “Most likely. But it’s okay. The most important thing is you are safe, both physically and mentally.”
Giggling, you nodded, reaching up to pat him on top of his head. Shouto was startled by the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.
“Who knew Shouto was such a worrywart,” you teased. “I’m safe and unharmed, all thanks to you. In fact, to show my gratitude… Why don’t I treat you to some convenience store dinner? On me, of course!” 
Shouto was silent for a bit. There were plenty of things he should be thinking about right now. The headlines that would be made about Pro Hero Shouto saving someone and then going on a “date” with them right after. The damage it could do to his reputation. The overtime hours the agency would make his public relations team work.
Instead, his silence was used to think of what he exactly he wanted to get at the convenience store. 
“Okay,” Shouto said once he made up his mind. “I’ll take a curry bun.” 
You laughed and gestured for him to follow you to the nearest convenience store. “I like that, too. You have good taste.” 
He followed along beside you, pleased with himself when he heard your captivating laugh. 
“I think I want an egg sandwich tonight,” you stated, a thoughtful look on your face. “Or maybe some fried chicken. Or an egg sandwich and fried chicken? And a smoothie for a drink and dessert all in one item! But maybe I want a crepe instead…”
As you rambled on, Shouto suddenly understood how you were too engrossed with trying to order food on your phone that you didn’t realize a vehicle was approaching you earlier. And while that was dangerous, he found it slightly endearing. Just as long as you were away from any cars. 
Shouto was so focused on listening to you that he hardly paid attention to the look of shock on the reporters’ faces and the influx of calls he was receiving from his agency. 
Right now, he simply wanted to hear you talk more and eat a curry bun. 
The rest, he could deal with later. 
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slvttyplum · 4 months
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taking yall off nanami punishment
nanami was very understanding when it came to you; he never made you feel as though you were little and that he was more superior than you. with that being said, even though he was a very understanding partner, the both of you still clashed heads almost every week, and it was always about petty shit. nanami wasn't one for petty arguments, yet he still found himself arguing with you. he would've left by now, so why was he still going back and forth with you almost every day?
standing across the bedroom, yelling even though every word that was coming out of his mouth he didn't mean; he was just trying to calm you down, and eventually he did, but it wasn't with his words. instead, it was with his fingers in between yours as he slowly slid himself inside of you, kissing you. those bitter words that were slipping out of his mouth now turned sweet when he was whispering in your ear how much he loved you and didn't mean anything.
his eyes were soft while looking into yours, and even when arguing with you, his eyes never turned dark; they were always light with love because, no matter what, he couldn't help but love you. nanami didn't like to argue with you, but he always seemed to stand in the same spot in your shared bedroom, justifying his action, explaining to you his real intentions, and firing back.
it was until he started to really think that he realized why you always spewed nonsense in his direction, nitpicking at every little thing he did to start up an argument—you just wanted one thing. you wanted him to fuck you and pamper you while he was inside, making you feel good while he gave you kisses all over your face. 
sometimes he had to work overtime; that was a given everyone had to do once in awhile, and that was when you would fuss and just say anything that came to your mind to spew at him, but the real reason is that you just wanted him with you; you wanted him to be with you, cuddle you, kiss you; you didn't want him to be gone all the time, and there he was, gone all the fucking time.
once he realized that was why he always found himself arguing with you, he made sure he wouldn't be working over time anymore, and if he did, it wouldn't be every week. it definitely changed your attitude and the way you acted. 
as much as you wanted him, he wanted you too; all he wanted was to be inside of you, telling you how much he loved you and was always going to be there for you, and that's exactly what he did every night. fucking you slow and deep, telling you he would never let you go each time he slammed inside of you, his hands roaming all over your body. 
your cheeks were heating up knowing it was true. nanami always stayed true to his word.
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palajae · 6 months
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my name. | nishimura riki
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PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader
GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN
WC ▸ 15.6k
SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead. 
AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.
AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...
wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️
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a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.
you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate? 
you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his- 
the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open.  you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default. 
it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete. 
you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside. 
it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible. 
you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn. 
not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you. 
you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world. 
that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today. 
you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right? 
though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”
it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you. 
“you okay, y/n?” 
you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that? 
but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”
they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever. 
you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less. 
the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. 
the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen. 
after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train.  although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere. 
you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway. 
you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once. 
so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown, 
wait a second-
something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?
you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well. 
you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you. 
you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—
have you met before?
you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform. 
a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.
“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings. 
his only response is a blink.  
it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment. 
you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it. 
“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…” 
you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop. 
that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.  
“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes. 
“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”
your mouth drops open. 
“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands. 
the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively. 
“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“
you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-” 
again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away. 
the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”
his next words make your blood run cold. 
“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n���who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists. 
“who are you? and why do you look just-?”
“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”  
you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction. 
it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting. 
he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense. 
his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.” 
“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“
“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.” 
before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off. 
you can call me niki, his words echo in your head. 
his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—
you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision. 
all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong. 
you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t. 
to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t. 
and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was. 
things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on. 
following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast. 
It wasn’t physically possible. 
you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died. 
niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.
niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you. 
“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes. 
“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”
he raises his eyebrows. 
“me? explain?” 
you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“
“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes. 
“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”
you sigh, rubbing your temples. 
“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”
he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore. 
“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you. 
the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.
his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.” 
you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”
“yeah. are you?” 
“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!” 
he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.  
you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform. 
“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”
his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter?  that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”
he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.
“obviously not, because that’s dumb.” 
you scoff. 
“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“ 
he glances at you and you tense,  
“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters. 
you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”
there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.” 
you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around? 
he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.” 
the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place.   except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in. 
“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces. 
“i know. there were police here for days.” 
you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when? 
you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened? 
“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth. 
soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away. 
“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door. 
you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books. 
you pause, “yearbooks?“
he nods, “yeah, our school’s.” 
strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home. 
but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page. 
“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.
“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...” 
you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name, 
nish—
he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones- 
ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you. 
just like niki. you were actually speechless. 
eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches. 
“no way—” 
“—and there’s you.” 
it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you. 
almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo. 
according to niki, this you is dead? 
you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on? 
the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?” 
you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“
he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.” 
you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer, 
“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”
you don’t know what to say. 
could it actually be?
what other explanation could there be? 
“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 
“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—” 
you do air quotations, 
“—switch dimensions to another world?” 
niki shrugs, “no idea.”
he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”
his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”
you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?” 
“what?” 
you glance at him questioningly, “what?”
niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”
you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath. 
“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”
you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.” 
“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.
“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.” 
“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation. 
“well, it actually happened last thursday.”
you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up? 
“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance, 
“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.” 
at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise. 
at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in. 
you? 
a suicide at school? 
what about your family, your friends-
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head.  “i… i would never-“
you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”
his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“ 
unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.  
that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-
was just a stranger to him. 
yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits. 
it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression. 
“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.
“are you sure that i-i did it?”
you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs, 
“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got. 
your face hardens. 
“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?” 
his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.
“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?” 
something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.
even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”
despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you. 
you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”
he stiffens, “what?” 
you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.” 
you need to. for yourself. 
niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“
“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”
he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”
you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.” 
he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him. 
“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door 
“wait! you’re being serious?!” 
his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”
“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.
you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”
he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.
“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”
“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.  annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.
“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”
“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.” 
niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe. 
“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand, 
“miss imposter.” 
you take it gladly, harshly.  “don’t call me that-“
“my name is y/n y/l/n.” 
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you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.” 
to which you almost punched him. 
but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful. 
“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.” 
“what about clothes and toiletries?”
he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.” 
you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here. 
a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. 
“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?” 
“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.
“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”
you hold back a laugh at the words. 
clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle. 
“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?” 
“apparently a horrible one,” you snort. 
after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation. 
“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”
“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow. 
you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay,  smartass. then how do we get in?” 
“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.” 
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“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him. 
the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort. 
niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard. 
obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness.  you wondered if they were staying with other family. 
or were they at work? so soon after your death? 
you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.
the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.  
you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall 
you glance down at niki. 
“can you make it?”
he scoffs,  
“easy.” 
it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point. 
you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down. 
you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”
“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”
“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.
niki’s eyes widen. 
“be careful, y/n.” 
“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion. 
without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you. 
your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open. 
“you got it?” 
“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window. 
finally, you can breathe. 
it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation. 
after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room. 
all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you. 
a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. 
at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room.  not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,
“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”
he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”
“oh.”
the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”
he nods and begins to snoop around.  
“wait,” you call out hesitantly. 
niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.
“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.” 
he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.” 
you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.  
you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-
“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face. 
you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?  
niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen- 
wait a second, 
your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things? 
you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t. 
“don’t!” 
his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view. 
“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows. 
“no? am i not supposed-“
“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”
you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.
he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile. 
“you can proceed!” 
he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one. 
you pull out… 
a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room? 
and even more so, why was it hidden? 
niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open. 
“a box of chocolates?“ 
he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”
“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter. 
niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance. 
“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?” 
he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”
you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind. 
after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious— 
like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different. 
just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be. 
“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”
niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.” 
you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one. 
“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.  
“what day and time is it, currently?” 
“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”
“when does the police station close?”
dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?
luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.  
niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“
his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”
you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”
you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“
you grin. “onwards, then.”
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“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”
he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”
“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.
he nods. 
“illegally?”
he nods again.
you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?” 
he shrugs, “probably.”
“good thing i’m not from this world.”
perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.
“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft. 
you gulp, “i guess i should.”
you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead. 
you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.
“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”
“are you sure?”
“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice. 
niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.
“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.
“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”
you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.” 
“then what?” 
you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.” 
you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-
it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-
you squint.
the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-
your thoughts are interrupted by niki. 
“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”
he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone. 
but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.
“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.
“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests
you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day. 
“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”
he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”
you nod, “okay.”
it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead. 
were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops? 
more like, if anyone cared? 
while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
yes, you affirm, you’re alive. 
you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts. 
but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink. 
everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-
a knock on the door makes you jump.
“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“
the door swings open.
you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.
“goodnight, niki.” 
you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks, 
“night, y/n.” 
it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore. 
you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights. 
in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.
you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.
“niki?” you say quietly.
another shuffle. 
“yeah?”
“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”
there’s a pause. 
“about you?”
“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”
niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”
you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter. 
“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”
“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts. 
you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face. 
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the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you. 
especially about what you said.
niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.
he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused. 
why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it. 
meanwhile, you stayed at his home.
thinking. 
thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead. 
you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously. 
you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki. 
you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.
however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”
he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”
you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!” 
he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further. 
“you must’ve been bored without me.” 
that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so).  sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.” 
but you knew he was right and he knew it too. 
“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown. 
“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…” 
“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.” 
you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.” 
you nod, “that’s good.” 
“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”
you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday. 
“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”
you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look. 
“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?” 
niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.” 
instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof. 
“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step. 
“step? as in, my case?
“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”
you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were. 
“okay—shoot.”
what was the worse thing he could suggest?
“we should sneak you into school-“
your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?” 
niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did. 
“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”
“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker? 
“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.” 
you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.
“fine.” 
niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,
“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?
he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.
“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“ 
confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about? 
“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket. 
you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.
you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly. 
“you’re actually being smart...” 
his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation. 
you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?” 
he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…
“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.” 
“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly. 
niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?” 
you falter. “huh? it isn’t?” 
he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.” 
you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.
“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”
turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice. 
niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger. 
meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair. 
you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him. 
on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.
he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms. 
instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart. 
after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head. 
“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.” 
please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort. 
you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself.  “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“
you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways. 
“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.
he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.” 
he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect. 
niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.
with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal? 
normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends. 
on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive? 
“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes. 
“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?” 
“am i actually loaded in this world?” 
niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“ 
you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know. 
“how much are you talking?” 
he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“
you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed. 
“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.” 
you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?” 
he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace? 
“what?” 
you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are? 
“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?” 
then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?” 
you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…” 
suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide.  panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—
straight into the locker. 
your own locker. 
you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime? 
in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise. 
no way. park sunghoon was in this world too? 
you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?” 
really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out. 
“sorry. that was me, pres.” 
it was niki’s voice. 
you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon. 
“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily. 
sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.” 
niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.” 
“alright, see you later.” 
you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave. 
but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker. 
your heart rate picks up. did he notice you? 
however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back. 
you frown—what was that? 
after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms. 
“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself. 
“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.
“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”
“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.” 
“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“
“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off. 
you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed. 
everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace. 
you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”
one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace? 
“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.” 
you sigh. next time. 
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it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it. 
the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice. 
tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis. 
niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven. 
niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused. 
he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“
all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door. 
“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“
the door handle begins to turn.
you and niki share a look of panic. 
your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath. 
“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume. 
“nope. just me.” 
you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was. 
“it was just probably the video i was playing.” 
“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her. 
you let out an exhale of relief. 
“y/n?” you hear soon after. 
“under here.” 
you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed. 
you meet his curious eyes. cute. 
“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off. 
“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”
“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“
“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it. 
“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 
he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp. 
you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours. 
niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead. 
is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat? 
niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere. 
“so, uh, i had an idea.”
“yeah? what’s up?”
“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”
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“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point. 
“you got the charger, right?”
niki nods, taking it out of his pocket. 
it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end. 
when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing. 
“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.” 
“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.” 
you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger. 
“okay. now we wait.” 
niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”
he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”
you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id. 
as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth. 
“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”
you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it. 
“oh my god.” 
“don’t even-“
“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”
you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” 
niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”
you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.” 
niki notices the sour expression on your face. 
“oh. you don’t like him?”
you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”
you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him. 
besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words. 
“good to know.” 
“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.
but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace? 
and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind. 
“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully. 
“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”
“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”
“well, i’ve got a task for you.” 
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niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public. 
he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them. 
and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you. 
danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”
“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”
haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.” 
she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears. 
niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it. 
you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing. 
everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died. 
the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone. 
you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness. 
you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name. 
“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side. 
his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. 
what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion. 
“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind. 
“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace. 
“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice. 
his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world. 
he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again. 
niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep. 
you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before. 
somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table. 
11 am. niki must be at school still, you note. 
you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass? 
niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay. 
when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk. 
went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me. 
niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud. 
he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day. 
he’s scared. 
niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure. 
he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.
tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected. 
you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall. 
you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.
niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged. 
then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.” 
he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.” 
you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”
“okay,” niki repeats. 
it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.
suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain. 
the rain doesn’t stop. 
and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly. 
“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly. 
“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.” 
“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically. 
he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self. 
“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”
“but-“
“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.” 
you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“
niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”
a challenge was a challenge. 
you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun. 
“just so you know, i technically won.” 
you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“
you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified. 
niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”
“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout. 
“what do you want to eat?”
“anything. i’m serious.” 
niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food. 
“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”
you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly. 
“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze. 
“how’s this one?”
you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.
“i think this one fits you more.”
as he grumbles, you laugh. 
“fine, but i get to choose yours.” 
he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”
you splutter, “but that means-“
“yes. i’m the princess.”
“obviously,” he adds. 
in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow. 
“i’ve never done this before, so…"
instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes. 
“what now?”
niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”
you’re at a loss for words. 
niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”
“o-okay.”
you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.  
“hey, this photo came out good!”
“but what happened to the first one?”
you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek. 
it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way. 
it was something you had never felt before. 
“..-y/n?”
“huh?” you snap out of your trance.
“i said, you can keep this copy.” 
you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“
“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay. 
you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off. 
on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.
“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”
“whatever you say, mr. responsible.” 
he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.
that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events. 
“niki?”
you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”
“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”
“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”
“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”
“what? what do you mean?” 
even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you. 
“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”
“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.
“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”
niki grimaces. 
“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”
“nope. what are they like?” 
he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”
“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.” 
you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps. 
now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking. 
your specialty. 
niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart. 
as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed. 
and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers. 
that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it. 
you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn. 
“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”
you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”
“what were you doing on my phone?”
you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you. 
“oh, and?” 
you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face. 
that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone. 
you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-
it was so close.
the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night. 
he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”
you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?” 
he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.
and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.
it was time to confront the truth.
you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted. 
this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it. 
you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor. 
you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it. 
and hearts next to sunghoon’s face. 
horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth. 
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during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up? 
just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts. 
and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar. 
he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops. 
you sit on the floor next to the lockers  with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care. 
the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket. 
you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been. 
“y/n!” 
great, now you were hearing things as well? 
furious footsteps stomp towards you.
“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”
“n-niki?” your eyes widen. 
before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet. 
“why would you come to school without me?”
for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?” 
he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“
“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“
a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”
you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction. 
he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium? 
“why are we-“
“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”
after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence. 
niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”
you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!” 
“you don’t understand,” his voice raises,  and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him. 
“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”
at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down. 
“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter. 
you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life, 
you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you. 
and this was the first time you felt wanted. 
you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him. 
when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.
without a second thought, niki pushes you. 
he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—
straight into the pool. 
your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later. 
he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago. 
you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air. 
after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air. 
“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”
you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”  
you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”
he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”
you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.” 
“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”
after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part. 
growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”
you thank him and he looks around awkwardly. 
“what is it?” you squint at him. 
“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”
you soften, eyes falling to the floor. 
“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.” 
you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can. 
niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”
“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”
“w-what? but how?”
you shake your head. he goes to hug you. 
you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face. 
“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.” 
niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”
he wonders why you say you and not we.
at that, you falter. 
“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.” 
niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”
you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.” 
it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home. 
“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes. 
and he looks back at you with pained ones. 
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niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in. 
the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.
it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway. 
you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.” 
the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were. 
you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears. 
“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.” 
he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.” 
if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world. 
“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper. 
“how will you even get back home?”
you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”
niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”
as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky. 
the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket. 
you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.
while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”
your body trembles, “i don’t know.”
“then… will i ever see you again?”
you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry. 
yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”
niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already. 
“this is it,” he says. 
but neither of you move. 
“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces. 
“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.” 
you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.
“i promise i’ll find you again.” 
he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.
crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one. 
you never knew niki’s name.
and then everything fades into nothing. 
that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go. 
then, you’re gone. 
in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together. 
all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting. 
but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore. 
and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers. 
you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform. 
niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second. 
when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there. 
he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing. 
after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time. 
when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved. 
and then he’s free.
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epilogue...
you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that. 
there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy. 
ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.
even after graduating, it never left you. 
you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto. 
“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in. 
they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.  
you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”
he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled. 
“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize. 
“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”
you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.  
“me?”
he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile. 
“my name is nishimura riki.”
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first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!
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≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕
╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : pwp (with very little plot), softdom!zayne, reader feels a little low, kissing and making out, heavy petting, grinding/dry humping, marking, cuddle sex, comfort sex, soft and slow sex, mention of belly bulge, holding hands, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, slight cockwarming, praise, use of pet names "darling" "sweetheart". lmk if i missed any tags!
wc : 3.1k
an : i've been so...... very much....... in my zayne feels..... i don't usually write zayne bc he's so difficult for me to write but omfg 😭 i needed this for me LMAO
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"Are you certain you can fall asleep like this?"
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The question made you pause.
There was a slight shift in movement, the faint clicking sound of his glasses being set on his nightstand. And though you'd barely tilted your head back up to look at him, you felt an arm rest gently over your waist, subtly guiding you to cuddle closer against his chest. You knew, then, that the book he'd been reading had been set aside, as well.
You closed your eyes.
In this position, he held you securely against him, your ear pressed up against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"What d'you mean?" you murmured. Your voice was slightly muffled.  "I'm okay, I told you I just wanted to be comfy... Why? Are you done reading?"
He didn't answer immediately, and it made you glance up.
His gaze was fond.
He took a moment—his thumb caressed your cheek, a warm gesture he knew worked to soothe you. It did exactly as he'd hoped, of course; your head lulled to the side, a content sigh leaving your lips. It was this that made the corners of his mouth twist up into a little smile.
"...Mm, it's enough for today," a soft chuckle fell from his lips. "But... it just feels as if something's different tonight."
This time, you felt his other hand trail over your back, moving in a soft, soothing rub.
Your gaze fixed on his.
His words stirred up a puddle of guilt, but it wasn't something you wanted to talk about.
"Something's... different? Zayne, I can assure you that I—"
"Please."
The excuse died on your lips.
The way he said it—such a simple word—was soft. Softer than usual. Enough so to get you to notice the way his eyes would search yours, that shade of hazel you'd always loved so dearly... The concern in his eyes was genuine, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.
"I... want to know what's been on your mind today. And it feels like you've been... thinking, quite a lot."
When he spoke again, you found that it was you who couldn't answer right away. And for your silence, you were met with another little smile, a chaste kiss placed into the crown of your head.
Zayne always had a way of compelling you to be more honest than you usually were.
You shook your head.
"M'just.... Not been feeling myself today, that's all," you said quietly.
Your eyes closed again, and you rest your head back down on his chest, finding comfort in the way his hand would start slowly massaging circles into your back.
"I see," he murmured. And there was something about the timbre in his voice that had you vocalizing your contentment with a little hum.
He didn't really say anything else.
You knew he wanted to, but this was just how he was—somehow he knew when you wanted to leave things as they were, and that his presence was, in this moment, simply enough.
You shifted to curl into him a little bit more, allowing your eyes to meet yet again.
"I don't want you to worry," you started.
"I know," he nodded.
"It's really just something trivial. It'll pass."
"...I know."
You smiled again, a little bit.
"I just... It feels like one of those days, you know? There's no real reason I've been feeling like this, sometimes it just happens, and..."
"And you don't want to concern me over it."
He finished it for you.
And this time, it was his turn to smile, his eyes settling into a soft gaze.
"I was simply... making sure," he murmured. A finger found its way beneath your chin, tilting it up a little, until his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle that it sent butterflies flurrying into your stomach. "If we're to sleep, I don't want you to go to bed upset."
"M'not upset..."
He chuckled a little, and you had to give him another ppout
"Really, I'm not!"
"I know."
He reached over to hold your thigh, gently guiding it to rest over his leg, before leaning in to kiss your forehead. You blinked. Trying to search his gaze would prove fruitless, but there was a hint of a tease that you could recognize in his tone.
"I believe you," he hummed, "but... would it be alright to hold you like this for a moment, anyway?"
Your eyes widened.
There was nothing too... much, about how close you were to him, certainly. Yet the more you looked at him, the more you could feel yourself drawing closer. You could only watch as his eyes closed, and he sighed, nuzzling his nose against yours.
"I'm not good with words." A shiver ran through your body as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, hot breath pricking at your skin. "But... If you don't like the person that you are today... then I would like to show you that I like her very much."
His arm slid beneath you to lock you into a tight embrace, pressing himself more insistently against you. His head dipped, lips attaching to your shoulder.
"Zayne..." you sucked in a breath as his teeth nipped at your skin.
The only reply you received was a soothing lap of his tongue against the mark he'd just made, and it was enough to draw out a quiet whine from you, raising your leg to wrap around his waist. The skirt of your nightgown rode up—it was near-immediate the way he reacted, then, a hand gliding down your back to gently grip at your soft flesh.
He smiled at your skin and pushed you slightly upwards. The erection poking against you was unmistakable.
"Z-Zayne!" you gasped, yet your hips moved nearly involuntarily, and he let out  a slow breath at the instigated friction.
"Shhhh."
His lips ghosted over yours, hazel eyes peering into your own.
"Let me take care of you?"
It was a question, still. He would never do anything you weren't up for, and you knew that—there was something about it that made your heart flutter. Add to it the fact that there wasn't even a need for him to cater to you like this; you knew this was nothing but a temporary feeling of yours. It wasn't necessary for you to receive any more affection him than you'd gotten that day. Yet... here he was, willing to offer just that.
You felt him lean in forward for another kiss—still gentle, still soft, your eyes closing into the sensation.
It was nice, like this.
Truly, you didn't have any complaints—he was being so sweet with you, and now, of all times. How could you refuse?
"...M'kay," you murmured against him. Your arm wrapped around his neck, and you felt him smile.
"You know that I cherish you, sweetheart, right?" he sighed contentedly.
Again his lips found yours, his hand stroking the side of your arm in a comforting motion. And for a while, it continued just like that—having you pressed up against him, his hand slipping beneath your down to leave goosebumps across your skin. Just soft, light, gentle caresses, your lips moving in sync enough to bring your bodies into a slow rocking motion.
Otherwise quiet, it was the kisses and soft panting that echoed in the room, having your hands gliding up to thread through his hair. Zayne could only pull you close, closer than close, his own hand returning to rub circles into your skin before resting on the small of your back. Every so often he would give a light squeeze, allowing you to grind yourself onto him, eliciting soft gasps that he would only swallow back into his kisses.
When your eyes opened, hazy and half-lidded, you could faintly make out the glowing outline of his silhouette. His cheeks were flushed by this point—they no doubt mirrored yours. The dim lighting of the lamp on the nightstand did nothing less than paint a soothing, ethereal image before you.
"...I love you," you murmured.
You'd said it without thinking, but they weren't particularly words that felt foreign to you.
Zayne chuckled, and it seemed that your confession had earned you another kiss.
"I know. And I love you."
Quiet, shuffling motions had your gown and his robe both discarded, and you groaned as his lips trailed down over your body. His head dipped, tracing your every curve, peppering kisses wherever he went, his hand stroking lovingly at your skin.
You curled into him—wrapping your leg back over his waist, wanting to feel his warmth all over you. You could hear the soft moans emanating from his lips, so busy suckling at your skin and leaving proof of his love everywhere that he possibly could. The harsher nips blended soothingly with his gentle caresses, hands kneading at your flesh as if to distract you from the slight sting of his marking.
"Oh, Zayne..." you moaned, rutting your hips against his bulge once more in an attempt to bring the both of you back into that slow, rocking rhythm.
Gradually he trailed his lips back up your body, from the dip or your hips, to your navel, to the valley of your breasts. Another mark beneath your collarbone that had you gasping, before kissing up your neck to meet your lips once more.
You could feel it; the satisfied smile etched on his lips as he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you. He wasn't saying it with words, but you could feel it—every kiss meant I love you.
"Feel better?" he whispered. His breath tickled the side of your neck as he gripped your thigh and held you around him, rocking his hips into yours. But he didn't wait for you to reply before he reached over to push your panties to the side, running a finger through the wetness that had pooled.
"Mmnh..." Your eyes closed, your hips bucking at the direct contact.
A chuckle and a few more kisses peppering your face before he spoke, "Are we okay with this?"
His finger ran up over your slit another time, collecting your slick before circling your entrance patiently.
You bit your lip.
It was just like him to ask for your consent again, even though you'd already been grinding against each other like this, even if he could already feel how wet he had gotten you.
But...
"Can we just... Can I have you, instead?"
Your voice came out a little shy, but the directness of your request remained punctuated by the way your hand drifted down to palm him through his boxers.
There was a certain surge of pride you felt, knowing your actions had gotten him this hard, had caused the shaky breath that he released, unable to stop his hips from jerking against you. In response to you, again your lips were captured into a kiss—and though he was keen on keeping the gentle atmosphere, there was a hint of desperation in the way his lips moved against yours.
"Mmm," he moaned quietly into you, hands making quick motions to free himself from the confines of his boxers.
You couldn't see it, too lost in the kiss, hands sliding up his body to cup his face for more of it—the sounds of lips smacking together became louder, more insistent, more heated.
But you felt it.
A hand on your ass, rubbing motions to keep your folds parted for him as the tip of his cock dipped teasingly into you. His legs slid against yours with the shallow thrusts he would give you, allowing you to get used to the feeling. And it was a stretch, nonetheless—no matter how many times you'd felt him inside you, you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, patiently waiting for him to ease himself in.
Your hand moved down to grip his back, almost hoisting yourself over him to spread your legs a little wider. "Mmh, Z-Zayne..."
You were panting, eyes steady on his, mouth slightly open. And with every thrust he made, he slid further and further into you, causing your breath to hitch.
"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" He brushed a few strands away from your face, placing soft kisses all over your face yet again. "I love you. You feel wonderful, darling."
A quiet moan left your lips as he squeezed your ass up once more, allowing you to take him in.
And it was a moment before either of you moved.
Quiet, hushed huffs of breath as you clenched around him, eyes heedy with desire with how closely you focused on the feeling of being full again. And his own gaze remained fixed upon yours. A hand rest on your cheek, thumbing at your skin, eyes so fondly looking into yours that you could melt.
There was no other place you could feel so loved than with him.
"Look at you," he murmured. "Darling, you look wonderful."
Your heart swelled, enough to have you drawing in a sharp breath.
It was so silly to think that this all started on the slightest inkling he had that you weren't feeling your best. And yet, he would never fail to make you feel loved. Whether you asked for it, or you didn't—he had his way of making sure you didn't feel unloved.
And it meant so much to you.
With a smile, your hips began to rock, and you cherished the groan that fell from his lips.
"You look wonderful, too, Zayne," you whispered back.
His head buried into your neck as you cradled him, his own hips moving in time with yours. Every languid pump of his cock pushed him deeper into you, bodies pressed so impossibly close that you could feel the head radiating off of the both of you. Flushed and heedy, you rolled against each other in a sensual waltz—it was the lamp on your bedside table that had your shadows dancing across the wall.
Gasps and pants permeated the air.
Slow, and deep, and steady... the slick sounds of your sex would mix in with the hushed moans that would slip from your lips, your vision already blurry in the haze of how deep he would fuck into you. The burn of his length dragging inside you was elating. You could feel each throb of his pulse inside you, his hand sliding slowly over your thigh, massaging your flesh.
"Zayne..." you breathed, "Zayne."
It was all you could say.
"A-ah... Ah~ Zayne..."
Muffled against your skin, his lips had resumed its attack on your neck, littering bruises that you knew you'd have trouble covering up the next morning. He would leave your skin with red marks all over it, a line of love bites from your nape up to your jawline—
But he wasn't rushing.
It was tender; affectionate, the way he made love to you.
You felt it.
He kept up the pace. Just slow, easy fucking motions as his lips latched back into yours. And everytime he sunk into you, you could feel your eyes roll back into your head, every listless thrust a reminder of how you could feel every inch of him inside you.
"Sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, "you're so good for me..."
It was only then that he made the subtle shift, rolling you onto your back and pressing his body onto yours. Your legs wrapped fully around his waist, and you could feel his weight push down on you, allowing him to sink even deeper and causing your eyes to widen with a gasp.
"Zayne!"
This time his hand found yours, fingers intertwining. With another kiss to your forehead, you felt him slide your hand over your body, pressing lightly into your lower abdomen enough to have your body arching into him.
"I'm right there, sweetheart," he murmured.
You could feel the faint outline of his cock moving in and out of you. He was pressing so deep into you that your head threw back, lifting your hips into him for more. Moans swallowed into more of his kisses, the room echoed with that soft sound of skin slapping against skin with a quiet, rhythmic, pap, pap, pap.
Your hands clawed at his back, his pace stuttering almost immediately at the sting from your nails. You could have delighted at the muffled curse he moaned into you, hips pressing you deeper into the mattress.
He detached himself from your lips, already red and swollen, and his breath fanned over your face. With his forehead resting against yours, you could clearly see that mixture of lust, and desire, and adoration swimming in the depth of his eyes—it made your heart jump.
His thrusts began to pick up the pace slightly, eliciting soft, staccato pants from you. He reached over to take your hands into his, pressing them up against the pillows and curling his fingers into you.
"Going to cum..." he whispered, a word of warning that had you nodding your head.
"Okay," you breathed. "Inside."
His eyes widened.
It was easy for you to use that opportunity to lock your legs around his waist, paying back the marks he'd left on your body by dipping your head to latch onto his neck.
With a gutteral groan, you felt it—hot streams of his cum painting your insides, the pulse of his cock a delight that sent you trembling over your own high. Moans muffled against your skin, you clung to him tightly, hands gripping his until your knuckles nearly turned white.
"Haah... haah... D-darling, you're..."
He panted into your ear, pulling the both of you back onto your sides as he rode you through your orgasm.
Your chest heaved, your vision blurry. Again you found your hand resting on his cheek, pulling your gazes up to meet each other.
"Zayne..." you whispered, trying to catch your breath.
Slowly, he churned the juices inside you, the wet noises nearly turning your face even more flushed than it had been.
Another kiss... and another, and another.
"Tired?" he murmured.
Still his hils continued to rock gently against yours, lighter, shallower thrusts as if to soothe you.
Your eyes fluttered closed.
"...Mhm."
You felt an arm wrap around you, bringing you back into that embrace of his that you loved so dearly.
"Feel better?"
You smiled.
"Mhm."
This time, he placed a kiss onto the top of his head, hips stilling inside you as he held you close.
"Good," he nuzzled into you. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll clean you up after a moment."
His soft strokes of your hair were enough to lull you to sleep.
The last thing, then, you heard, was a small, quiet mumble:
"I love you."
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happy74827 · 5 months
Text
A New Moon
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[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}
WC: 2889
Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes
Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)
『••✎••』
You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.
He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.
But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.
But maybe he was.
Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.
The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.
But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…
Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest getting warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita, but then, that relationship was different too.
It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.
It was terrifying.
Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.
He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.
It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.
You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.
Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.
He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.
It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.
Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.
You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.
It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?
But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t
That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.
You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.
Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.
And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.
She deserved better.
The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.
And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.
He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.
His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.
Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.
It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.
It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.
And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.
You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.
But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.
You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.
It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.
It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.
Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?
But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.
So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.
It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.
Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.
The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.
Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.
Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?
Maybe he was.
You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.
The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.
You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.
He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.
“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."
He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.
His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.
At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.
The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?
You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.
And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.
The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.
But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.
It was exhilarating.
Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.
The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.
He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.
And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.
He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.
Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.
Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.
But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.
Something he couldn’t understand.
"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.
"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.
"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.
"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.
"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.
"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."
You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”
He snorted.
Bold.
If you only knew.
"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.
You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.
And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.
Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.
A fresh start.
A new beginning.
A new moon.
Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.
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24hlevi · 6 months
Text
— DATING MODERN!ZUKO
prince zuko (atla) x gn!reader
genre: fluff
summary: how it would be dating modern!zuko
warnings: language, nsfw under the cut
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modern!zuko who met you likely through his sister or a school function of some sort, he thought you were going to be annoying like the rest, then he was proven wrong
modern!zuko who somehow became your friend after your relentless pursuit on getting to know him and he for some reason let you in
modern!zuko who was warned by azula to not try anything stupid with you only for him to ignore those words and pursue you anyways
modern!zuko who asked you out via text cause he was too scared of rejection to ask in person
modern!zuko who opened his walls just for you, he couldn't help it, you were addictive, and he was addicted to you
modern!zuko who took you to the movies and dinner after for the first date, he asked azula in advance what movie you wanted to see so he was stuck with the mean girls musical (he loved it secretly)
modern!zuko who takes you to the convenience store in the middle of the night for snacks and drinks
modern!zuko who needs his hair played with for him to get to sleep and only you do it for him
modern!zuko who never lets you meet his father, telling you that he wouldn't like the thought of zuko dating anyone but there's really more to it
modern!zuko who shows up at your house one night in nearly tears because of his father, saying how he just needs you more than anyone else at the moment
modern!zuko who uses his firebending to keep it warm in the room when he sleeps with you and it's winter, though he's like a heater himself already
modern!zuko who may yell when he's angry but will never ever hit you, if he did he would be closed off for some time
modern!zuko who has to deal with azula more since you two are friends and she insists on joining your dates with him paying for all three of you
modern!zuko who remembers every little detail you say, if he seems like he's not paying attention he is, he'll recite whatever you said right back to you
modern!zuko who gets a promise ring after two years of dating
modern!zuko who goes with you to a school dance and has to wear a suit, completely embarrassed that he has to go but he feels a little better once actually at the venue
modern!zuko who gets insecure of his scar often, trying to find ways to cover it up for you to say you don't care about it, leaving him conflicted about it
modern!zuko who knows exactly how to help when you're upset or sick, he comes with snacks, drinks, medicine, and movies
modern!zuko who doesn't really listen to music but goes to all concerts with you anyways and ends up liking a lot of the artists
modern!zuko who is obsessed with you tied up on his bed with him in full control to do whatever he wants knowing you'll take it
modern!zuko who can be subby at times, especially when given blowjobs, he's whining and moaning with his hands tangled in your hair trying not to sound desperate
modern!zuko who gives you oral while you're on the phone with his sister, trying to get you to hang up the phone but it's a challenge for both of you
modern!zuko who falls apart at the slightest touch because it's only you who can do that to him
modern!zuko who fucks you either so rough the bed is about to break or so slow and soft that you can't figure out which it'll be
modern!zuko who loves doggystyle with you, pressing his hand into the small of your back while he pounds into you, pushing your face in the pillow
modern!zuko who will never deny a quick blowjob in a public bathroom
modern!zuko who whispers little praises into your ear while fucking you, or the dirtiest words imaginable
modern!zuko who makes you call him "sir" and god does he love it
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