#wandering around finding the most random shit ever it’s so fun
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George would love Costco
#wandering around finding the most random shit ever it’s so fun#also I think he would love free sample weekends. Tbh#and the simple pleasure of sitting on the furniture while you play on your phone 🌟
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Hot Date (Blind Date pt. 2)
First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for the amazing show of support for Blind Date! I've never received so much support and appreciation for a fic, EVER! Words cannot express how grateful I am.
SYNOPSIS: Your second date with Wade went well, so now it's time for the third. (And what could be considered the fourth.)
WARNINGS: Smut, reader has been cheated on in the past, everything else is standard Deadpool antics.
Your second date went just as well as the first — most of the words you asked for him to provide were swear words, hilariously enough. It’s not that you’ve never heard them before, though. You lose words if you haven’t heard them in a while, not to mention how loudly curses are often said.
Now, it’s time for date number three, known in popular culture as the make-or-break date: you’ll agree (or disagree) to be exclusive, it’s socially acceptable to start having sex, all that fun (terrifying) stuff. You’ve had some casual coffee and lunch hangouts between your second date and now, but tonight will be your third official date.
He doesn’t have any expectations, of course. He could tell from what you said on the first date that you’ve been hurt in the past.
Who could bring themselves to hurt you? Wade thinks as he daydreams about your shy smile, your variety of laughters to offer him, your soft cardigans and sweaters, the silly faces you make at babies in public, and the sharp glares you give strangers when they stare at him for too long (oh, and the ones he gives them when he catches them staring at you.)
He even finds his thoughts wandering to the way you speak to him — sure, you can’t pick the tones of the words, but your choice of them is all yours. You’re kind, clever, and honest in your words, in everything you do.
Oh, shit, he realizes, his stomach dropping. I’m in love.
You’d insisted on planning your date this time around, since he’d planned the previous two. You told him you’d be having a picnic and to make sure he dressed warm since fall is on its way and the nights are growing colder. He assured you that his healing factor made him run hot, but you insisted that he at least bring a jacket.
He texts you, confirming you’re still on for dinner. You reply positively, but reading your text only has him missing your eclectic voice, or, rather, voices. Over the past few weeks, more and more of your words have been taken from him, but he still loves to hear the random country or British accent, the occasional shout…
Your suggestive exclamations have completely faded from your vocabulary, interestingly enough. Wade may be softening up a little due to his relationship with you, but his more perverted side can’t help but wonder if it’s because you’ve started to prefer your imagination over what videos on the internet have to offer. Do you think about him? He definitely thinks about you, especially his hypothesis on the way you’d sound. Low, masculine grunts shifting to high-pitched, over the top whines and back, all for him.
Someone smacks him upside the head.
“You’re daydreaming again. Why don’t you just go see her? She’s just as sickeningly obsessed with you,” Ellie complains, coming around the couch and plunking down on the opposite end.
“Really?” he wonders. You’re super nice, sure, and you’ve agreed to continue seeing him despite, well, everything about him, but…
She rolls her eyes, smacking her gum.
“Dude, yes. It’s annoying. She’s working right now, but I bet she’d appreciate the company. You remember where her office is, don’t you?”
Wade nods, getting up and taking off towards it. He has to keep himself from running, he’s so giddy.
He knocks on your office door.
“Just a minute,” you reply from inside.
You open it, smiling once you realize who’s come to visit.
“Hi, Wade,” you greet him.
“Who’s that?” he asks. The voice with which you said his name is entirely unfamiliar.
“Oh, I’ve been experimenting with AI voices,” you explain. “I figured it’d be WEIRD for you to keep hearing Ellie and Yukio say your name when it’s me.”
“A little weird, yeah, but it doesn’t bother me too much.”
You turn a little pink, your smile widening awkwardly.
“Oh, you meant-! Yeah, no, that’d be kind of uncomfortable. I appreciate the effort. Sorry to bug you like this, I- Well, speaking of Ellie, she caught me daydreaming about you and told me I should just come see you.”
“Remind me to thank her later,” you reply. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, I mean, of course it is, or I wouldn’t have come, well, um…” He’s gotten better about talking around you, but he still trips all over his words. “Yeah. What are you up to?”
“I’ve actually had some down time today, so I’ve been working on-” You stop, grimacing as your happy blush deepens to an embarrassed one. You’ve lost the words.
“Wanna show me?” he asks, grateful for the excuse to learn more about what you do. You nod, leading him to your desk. You sit down in the office chair and roll over, leaving him room to stand beside you. He looks back and forth between your monitors – on the one off to the side, a video of one of the Xavier’s School classrooms with subtitles by you; on the center monitor, a document with notes and practice questions.
“A study guide,” he realizes, reading the title of the document.
“Yes, a study guide,” you repeat. “Thank you. I noticed a lot of the students struggle when school starts up again, so I thought I’d take the time to put one together for the classes that don’t already have one.”
“That’s so awesome! Seems like you’re pretty busy, though. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay,” you agree.
And later, you do. Wade wanders around the courtyard looking for you, finding you sitting on a blanket with electric tealights spread all over it. The sun is just barely starting to set, but the extra light is nice nonetheless, not to mention how adorably romantic it all is.
He jogs over to you, sitting next to you and finally taking in what you’ve put together. It has to be every kind of cheese known to mankind, like, eight different kinds of deli meat, and an insane amount of Club crackers, not to mention the strands of juicy green grapes curled in the corners, avocado slices, and even a pomegranate!
“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you tell him. “I was inspired by our conversation the other day about charcuterie boards and how we wish we could just eat them as meals. I also remembered what you said about your healing factor and how hungry it makes you.”
“No, no, this is perfect,” he breathes. No one’s ever done something so nice for him before. “Uh, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
Your face goes pale, eyes widening. You’re bracing yourself for something, but what? Oh, no. You think this is going in the exact opposite direction from where it is.
“No, it’s good, I mean, maybe. I just wanted to know if you were cool with the idea of us being exclusive. Y’know, not seeing other people? Going steady?” His elaborations get weaker as you stare at him, still wide-eyed. You lips part, and you…
You cackle wildly, gasping for air. You try to stifle it, holding onto his shoulder as the laughter completely overtakes you. Is the idea of being with him so humorous to you?
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say once your hysterics wind down. “Wade, do you really think I’d be seeing anyone else?”
“Well, you’re very pretty… And nice… And funny…” he explains. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
“Well, one: I really like you. I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. Two: you are the only one interested in me.”
“I just can’t believe that. Either thing,” he replies.
“You better believe it, because my answer is yes, Wade, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Awesome, that’s… Awesome. Cool,” he stumbles over his words. He wants to say more, but you’re smiling so widely that he’s concerned for your cheek muscles. You’re even more beautiful to him when you’re happy. It puts a lump in his throat. How can you possibly be interested in him? You’re not just devastatingly beautiful, you’re a good person. He tries to be, but he feels like the scum of the earth next to you.
“I’m starving, let’s eat!” you playfully scold him, gesturing to the board. He takes in the platter once more, and finds his eyes watering at the amount of thought you must’ve put into this. “Well, you can’t eat with that thing on. Come on, it’s just us, and…” You trail off.
“Need help?” he offers. You shake your head.
“Just feeling shy,” you admit.
“No need to be shy around me, I’ve seen and heard it all,” he assures you.
“I guess that’s part of the reason why. I can’t say the same,” you reply, your cheeks turning a little pink as your smile becomes sheepish.
Wade finally takes his mask off, figuring it’s an equivalent exchange for your show of vulnerability. You grin, scooping some brie onto a cracker before adding a chunk of turkey and passing it to him. He gratefully accepts it, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss to your temple. He leaves his arm around you, and you adjust your posture, getting comfortable in your place by his side. You put together a cracker of your own.
The two of you go on like that for a while, creating combinations of cheese and meat on crackers, some bordering on sacrilege, before he finally finds his words again. He always seems to be at a loss for words when faced with you.
“I don’t mind, y’know,” he starts. “I mean, that you haven’t been in a lot of relationships and all that entrails. Sorry, I meant entails. I usually talk more about entrails.”
You giggle.
“Are you sure? I just don’t want you to be bored,” you reply. “You’ve had a very exciting life so far. I like the simple things… Like picnics at sunset.”
“I’m learning to appreciate them a lot more. Don’t get me wrong, there’s definitely going to come a day when I drag you onto a beach vacation, or to an even swankier restaurant than De Luca, or whatever… But I like this, too. I like it a lot.” And I love you, he thinks. It’s way too soon to be saying something like that, isn’t it? “Besides, exciting doesn’t always mean fun. When we’re together, I have fun.”
“Me, too,” you agree bashfully. “What I was wanting to say before was that I think you’re beautiful. I like your face and your hands.”
“Kinda specific,” he remarks, trying to avoid the compliment.
“They’re all I’ve seen. Well, other than your voice. I like that, too.”
“It sounds better coming from you,” he deflects once more, but you don’t fight him this time, instead blushing. “I like your voice. I know you don’t feel like it’s yours, but it is to me. The way you speak tells part of your story, just like an accent does.” He’s tempted to admit hearing your words in his voice satisfies his possessive streak, but despite how cute you are when you’re nervous, he doesn’t want to frighten you.
When you don’t respond, he’s worried he’s somehow done it anyway. He looks up from the platter to see your hand clamped over your mouth, a tear rolling down your cheek.
“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m so-”
You shake your head fervently.
“That’s the nicest thing someone’s ever said to me about my voice,” you clarify, sniffling as you awkwardly chuckle, trying to laugh it off. “I’m sorry for getting emotional.”
“Never be sorry for that,” he insists, squeezing you closer to him. “The only thing I dislike about what you just said is that no one’s ever said something so nice to you about one of the things that makes you… You. I love you, so that really bothers me.”
Your mouth falls open, and once he realizes what he said, he wants to stick his foot in his.
“I’m-”
“I love you, too,” you tell him. It’s all in his voice.
Wade can’t help but kiss you. When it comes to you, he normally tries to be a gentleman and ask first, but the adoration in your eyes, the red tint to your cheeks, the hint of a smile on your parted lips… It’s all too much. You kiss him back just as eagerly, your lips moving against each other until you’re on your back with him slotted between your legs. You cling to him for dear life, your hands clutching his hoodie like if you let go he’ll float away.
He can’t believe how good your body feels against his, his hands laced in your hair as your chests press together like your hearts are trying to touch each other.
The two of you break for air, both with awestruck smiles and flushed faces.
“Do you… Want some help with that?” you ask, face turning redder. He scrambles to sit up, suddenly aware of his pre-dick-ament. You sit up, too, though much more gracefully.
“Have you ever..? Sorry, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. I just want to do right by you.”
“Fair enough… I have, but only once. It didn’t go well. After that, it was just-” You pause, but he doesn’t offer to help this time, not wanting to rush you. You blow air out of your mouth. “Until I gained some self-respect and broke up with him.”
His jaw drops.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. He cheated on me and then I dumped him.”
“Someone cheated on you?! I guess what they say is true, then – it doesn’t matter how gorgeous you are or what all you do for somebody, if they’re a cheating piece of shit, they’re a cheating piece of shit.”
Your smile is bittersweet as you respond:
“At least I know I’m good at-” You blow air out of your mouth again. “Even if I don’t have practice with other things.”
“I believe you, but I’m not taking you up on it this time around. First time’s definitely going to be all about you. You deserve it,” Wade informs you. “And, uh, I think I want to wait a little longer before that,” he adds, surprising even himself. “Not that you’re not totally hot – I really like you and Little Wade does, too, but…”
“You don’t have to give me a reason. We should wait until we’re both ready,” you assure him, putting a comforting hand on his knee. He kisses you again, more chastely this time.
“Thanks,” he says.
“I’d like some advanced notice, anyways, so I can make sure I’m adequately stocked,” you reply– flirtatiously, but in an intentionally goofy way based on the way your eyebrows waggle –tapping on your neck in the general area of your vocal cords. He can’t help but laugh at that, and you join in, making his volume double.
“Don’t worry about that. I mean, if it’d make you more comfortable, go for it, but… I don’t need you to do that, seriously,” he insists.
“Well, I’d rather not wail just because you kissed my neck and that’s the closest thing I have to an appropriate sound.”
“Fair enough,” he concedes. “Now, let’s polish off the rest of this charcuterie board.”
“I can’t eat another bite. Have at it, I’ll just cuddle with you if that’s okay.”
“More than,” he assures you. You lean on his shoulder as he finishes it off. He babbles throughout, but eventually your lack of response becomes concerning.
Wade turns his head to find that you’ve fallen asleep. He’d sit perfectly still all night just to make sure that you weren’t disturbed, but you had a point earlier. It’s pretty chilly, you could get sick if you slept out here without anything but your jeans and sweater to keep you warm.
“Y/N,” he hums, stroking your face. You stir, face scrunching in distaste for being awoken. He giggles. “It’s time to head back in, cutie.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” you groggily grumble, though your tone doesn’t reflect that, reaching for the basket as you sit up.
“I got it,” he says, gently batting your hand away. “Go on up to your room, I’ll meet you there once I’ve got this picked up.”
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Yeah, hon, I’ve got it.”
You get up from the blanket, ambling back to the house sleepily. Wade tosses the grape stems to the treeline hoping some bird or something will enjoy it before he pushes the board off of your picnic blanket. He folds said blanket, tucking it into its matching basket. He carries both the board and the basket back to the house, eventually catching up with you due to your slow pace.
You open your door, and he follows you in.
“Where do you want them?” he asks, looking around. Your room is cluttered, but not necessarily dirty or messy, just filled with things: pictures, curios, crystals, dried flowers… Pretty things. Fitting, he supposes, because it’s your room.
“Where ever is fine. I’ll deal with it in the morning,” you answer. “Thank you.”
“Goodnight, Y/N. Thanks for dinner, it was great.”
“You don’t have to go. Just because we’re not sleeping together doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together,” you offer. “It’s late.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” he says, kicking himself for giving you an out and appreciating himself for it at the same time.
“Very sure,” you assure him. “I have some- Some tee shirts a man can wear.”
“Men’s?” he offers. You nod gratefully.
“It’s what I usually wear to bed,” you explain, tossing him one before pulling another out of your dresser, shucking your pants and taking off your sweater while still turned around. Wade yelps, turning around himself. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you remind him. He swiftly gets into the tee shirt you offered him, feeling the heat in his cheeks. Even your back is pretty, goddamn it.
“Haven’t seen you,” he says as he turns around, eyes still downcast as he joins you under the covers.
“I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal for you, I’m sorry.”
“Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I love you?” he half-jokes.
“Yeah, I did, which is why I’m insisting on cuddling,” you declare. “I love you, too, and I want cuddles in exchange for it.”
“Is that so? I like sleepy you. She’s demanding, I’m into it.”
“Oh!” you squeak. “Not too demanding, I hope.”
“Not even a little,” he assures you, pulling you into his arms.
It’s the easiest time he’s had falling asleep in a long time. Possibly ever.
When he wakes, you’re still beside him, but you hover, propped on your arm as you gaze at him with downright eerie fascination.
“Your scars move,” you say. “I didn’t notice it before, but it’s faster when you’re sleeping.”
“Yeah, part of the whole cancer constantly fighting itself thing,” he mumbles, sheepish under your scrutiny, no matter how gentle it is. The next thing he’s hyper-aware of is the pain in his groin.
You follow his gaze.
“You weren’t exaggerating,” you remark, a smug, pleased look on your face. “Are you sure you don’t want any help with that? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“How about tonight?” he offers. This is the second time you’ve offered yourself to him, so he doesn’t want to turn you down. It’s not that he feels pressured, though. Rather, he’s coming to terms with the fact that you really want him like that – not even just that you’re attracted to him, but you trust him that much despite being hurt so badly before in what was clearly a long-term relationship, maybe even your only one. “Is that enough notice?”
“Plenty. It’s a weekend, so I have all day to listen to-”
“Don’t wear yourself or your vibrator out,” Wade cuts you off, excited to inform you: “I happen to think of those as teammates, not competition.”
You smile, blushing.
“Understood.”
“Is it alright if I go ahead and head out? I’m supposed to meet Logan and Laura for breakfast.”
“Of course. What time do you want to meet up later?”
“Do you want to get dinner first?”
“Shit. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ellie and Yukio, Yukio’s dads are in town and- Well, I guess that means I don’t have all day. How about seven, to give me time?”
“Sure, but-”
“I know. I want to, it’ll make me feel better.”
“If you insist. See you later, cutie.”
“Later,” you echo.
Later rolls around and you have your headphones on.
“Fuck me harder,” the voice actress whines.
“Fuck me harder,” you echo, biting your lip at how illicit it sounds. Hopefully he likes it. You practice the little moans and gasps you’ve heard, making sure they sound right and aren’t too different from each other.
There’s a knock at the door. Surely it’s him. You stop the audioporn track, setting your headphones and phone aside. You peek under your skirt at the black lace-trimmed panties you’re wearing. You don’t have much red in your underwear collection, so hopefully he’s happy with the mismatched set you’re wearing, your previously-mentioned black bottoms with a red bralette.
You answer the door.
“Wade,” you say, unable to hold back the grin on your face. He’s quickly become your favorite person with his outrageous sense of humor, his constant stream of new words for you to say– one of your favorites is chucklefuck, you even repeat it to yourself when you’re alone just to make sure you don’t lose it –his textured skin, his radiant smile, and… Oh, crap, he’s been talking, hasn’t he?
“I’m sorry, I got lost in thought. What were you saying?” you ask, cringing at yourself.
“I was just saying that if you’re starting to psych yourself out, we don’t have to do this. Guessing I was right.”
“Not at all. I really want you,” the last bit comes out as a moan, and you remember the exact context in which you heard it. Maybe Brat Begs for Her Master’s Cock wasn’t a good decision, it was especially wordy – you’re probably going to have to sort that out of your vocabulary for the next week. You just wanted to make sure there was enough kink in your repertoire – Wade’s reputation precedes him.
“Well, if you’re sure… Let’s get to it, I guess.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, concerned. He nods, and you pull him into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “It’s been a while, how exactly do we get started?”
“Hm, a little something like this,” he hums fondly before pressing his lips to yours. You love the way he kisses, it’s so overpowering that it feels like nothing else exists, just him and you. You melt in his hands, needy little whimpers forcing their way out of you as they caress your jaw before wandering down to your waist, a few teasing, curious touches along the way driving you wild.
His lips trail down to your neck and you gasp as his tongue swirls against your skin.
“Not too long,” you warn him, the last word in breathless excitement.
“Of course,” he assures you. “Can’t have a few hickeys ruining your reputation.”
You nod, and he places his next kiss in the curve between your neck and shoulder. He carefully introduces his teeth to the equation and your knees almost give out as a high-pitched whine leaves your lips. You clutch his back for purchase, and he leads you backwards into the bed, the two of you laying there together like you were yesterday evening. He’s right there between your legs and you can feel his excitement growing as you paw at him, needing to be even closer than you already are.
He unbuttons one button of your blouse before looking to you for permission to continue.
“Yes,” you agree, and despite the tone itself being over-the-top, he only smiles as he reveals your body to him.
“Red,” he murmurs. “Just for me?”
“Just for you,” you concur, only the last word being a moan due to his interference. “You were supposed to let me say that,” you half-heartedly complain. He chuckles.
“I kinda like it more when it’s in my voice. Reminds me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you agree. “I’m all yours.”
“You spoil me,” he replies fondly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your breast. He takes his time, not even pushing one of the thin cups aside until you’re whining and rocking against him. He flicks his tongue against your nipple and the sensation sends sparks through you. You arch into his mouth with the same high-pitched moan as before. He chuckles, switching to the other.
You’re already shaking and you have no doubt that you’re embarrassingly wet. Hell, even last night’s makeout session, which hardly qualified as one, left your underwear damp. He urges you up, helping you out of your shirt. He goes to take off your bra, but you stop him.
“You wanna stop?” he asks, his hand quickly making its way to cup your face comfortingly.
You shake your head, nudging him off of you so you can take off your skirt.
“Just for me?” he asks again, looking pleasantly surprised.
“Just for you,” you repeat.
“You’re so thoughtful. It’s one of the things I love most about you,” he informs you.
“You can take it off now. Or them, whatever you choose.”
He snickers.
“Let’s start with the bra for now,” he decides, reaching behind you for the clasp. He fumbles around, looking for it for a bit until you’re both laughing. You pull the bralette over your head for him. It then hits you then that you’re mostly naked and he’s mostly clothed. You pout, batting your eyelashes as you look him up and down.
He gets the message and huffs out another laugh, getting off the bed to take off his shirt and jeans.
Holy fuck, he’s ripped. If you weren’t bright red before, you are now. You should’ve expected it, what with his metabolism and super-strength and all that, but… Wow!
“That bad, huh? I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“No,” you quickly disagree. “You look amazing.”
“You, too,” he replies, his eyes lighting up at the erotic tone of your last spoken word.
“Come back,” you urge him. It’s getting to the point where every other word or so is a moan. He doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he likes it.
“Say it again. ‘Come.’”
“Come,” you reply, unamused. “You forgot the rules, didn’t you?”
“Oops,” he says with a giggle. “That’s alright. ‘Cause the next time you say that word, it’s gonna be because of me. It being in my voice will only be a reminder of that fact.”
You shudder, leaning back and opening your legs up a little more as a reminder that he should really rejoin you in bed right now. His nose twitches and his eyebrows furrow.
“Wade?”
“I have… An enhanced sense of smell.”
“Oh, is it… bad? I mean, I took a shower and drank water and all that, but-”
“No, baby, you smell so good, just… Really strong, like...” He presses his hand to your most private place and you can’t help but squeak – between everything he’s said and done, the content you were consuming before his arrival, and how long it’s been… You’re unbelievably sensitive. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?” you ask.
“You’re so… I like foreplay, sure, and you deserve it, but aren’t you getting frustrated? If you need me, you should tell me.”
Once you get over your breathlessness at the last thing he said, you explain yourself:
“I like what we’re doing. Why would I stop you?”
“Aren’t you aching down here?” he wonders, pressing his hand firmer against you for emphasis.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” you tell him, a little embarrassed at the variation in your moans.
He smiles, though, caressing your thighs in a teasingly gentle way.
“Then maybe I should go ahead and show you the real reason they call me the Merc with a Mouth. You’re not the only one who knows how to give a blowy.”
He hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs with your attempted assistance as you try to move them in helpful ways. He props your legs open before finally rejoining you in bed, this time with his mouth… Oh, his mouth, it’s…
A symphony of pleasured sounds flows out of you, some cheap and overexaggerated and some a little more realistic.
“Good girl, tell me how much you like it,” he says, before returning his lips and tongue to you just as swiftly as they left.
“I fucking love it,” you reply, gasping for air. “No one’s ever done this to me before.”
He’s got his face buried between your thighs, moaning and groaning as he tastes you. When your eyes aren’t clenched shut from pleasure, you see him grinding his hips into the comforter for friction. Holy shit, he really likes this, doesn’t he?
Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as fire courses through your veins and you feel yourself getting higher and higher.
“I’m close, Wade, I’m gonna- Gonna come,” you tell him. He holds onto your thighs, keeping you right in place as you unravel, forcing you to take what he’s giving you. The sounds you’re making are chaos, you think, but you realize as you come down that that’s what he thrives on.
“It’s too much,” you whine as you start to get overstimulated, when it feels so good it hurts. He hesitantly pulls away, panting a little himself.
“How was that?” he asks.
“Amazing. Couldn’t- You- Tell?”
He grins.
“Wanna keep going?”
“Fuck me,” you implore him. “Please.”
“Yes, ma’am! Let me see here…” he fishes in the pockets of his discarded jeans, finding a condom. He holds it up, and like a magic trick, the interconnected packets fall down, leaving you both with a whole ribbon of them. After tearing off one, he tosses the others onto the bed beside you. “I doubt we’ll go through all those tonight, but I’d appreciate it if you kept the rest in the nightstand.”
You nod, still catching your breath from the previous round as he rolls it on.
“I’m gonna use my fingers first,” he informs you. You nod, your breathlessness now in anticipation of what he’ll do next. He gently pushes one inside you. It feels bigger than it really is as he carefully slides it in and out before curling it right against-
He smiles in response to your pleasured exclamation.
“You sound so pretty, honey,” he hums, “Ready for another?”
“Yeah,” you agree. He repeats the same motions as before but with a second finger. “Holy fucking shit, so good.”
“We’re barely getting started,” he reminds you, but he doesn’t seem displeased with your eager sounds as he adds a third finger into the mix.
“So full,” you moan. “I don’t know if I can take it.”
“You know just what to say, don’t you, baby? I know you can take it, though. You're such a good girl, aren’t you?”
“I try,” you reply.
“You succeed,” he confirms. “Do you still want-”
“Yes, please, I’m ready,” you cut him off, starting to get impatient. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, but you want more, you want all of him. You’ve never been so greedy before, but you just can’t help it. Just as you're his, he’s yours. No one’s ever really been yours before and you want to experience it for all that it's worth.
“Alrighty, then. You should be careful, though — I’m trying to be all nice and gentlemanly and all that, but if you keep looking at me like that I might lose control.”
“Would that really be such a bad thing?” you half-flirt, half-wonder, propping yourself up to look at him once he removes his fingers from you. He’d never hurt you in a way that you didn’t want him to, not intentionally. Would it really be so bad for him to give in to his baser urges and just pound you until you cry and then some? You don’t think so.
“Oh, I get it, you’ve been holding out on me. I guess I should’ve known, the geeky types are always total freaks in the sheets,” he remarks.
“I wanted to be gentle with you, too,” you explain. “I know you’re just as nervous as I am, just for different reasons.”
“Not that different,” he admits. “Are you really sure?”
“Mhm,” you hum, trying to meet his downcast eyes. “I want you. Really… I’ve really never felt this way before.”
“Me, either. Don’t wanna fuck it up.”
“Then fuck me instead,” you tease, knowing he doesn’t like to linger on the deeper subjects for too long.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees with a smile, lining himself up with your entrance. You’re really glad he used his fingers first, because there’s no way his member would even be close to fitting inside you if he hadn’t. He eases in, checking every inch or so to make sure you’re still comfortable.
You're still propped up on your hands, your eyes flicking between his face and his dick as it sinks further and further into you. You lift one hand and bring his forehead to yours, your labored breaths intermingling as he enters you. You keep your hand on the back of his neck, stroking him — you’re not sure if the motion is supposed to comfort you or him, but it feels good.
“Is it okay for me to move?”
You nod into him, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. It feels so good to connect with someone like this, to connect with him like this.
He slides back and forth, it’s mind-boggling to watch something so large disappear into you.
“You feel so good, baby, fuck,” he groans.
“You feel so good,” you echo, eyes scrunching shut as he picks up the pace. Your other hand rises from the bed and now you’re holding onto him as he thrusts, hitting that amazing place deep inside over and over again. You’re once again making mismatched sounds of ecstasy, his own grunts and groans working their way into your lexicon and making them even more diverse.
He wraps an arm around you, helping you to stay balanced.
“Touch yourself for me, sweetheart, I wanna feel you like that, please, please make yourself come all over my cock,” he nearly begs.
“Yes, sir.” You remove your hand from where it was bracing on his neck, leaving the other draped around his shoulders as you start to stroke your clit.
“Oh, fuck, shit, you-“ You feel him twitch inside of you. “Just a second, I… Oh, god.”
“You weren’t kidding,” you reply as he carefully pulls out, tying off and disposing of the condom before getting another one ready.
“Honestly, I was, but- I mean, the refractory period is legit. I am so sorry, seriously, you- You just pushed a button that hasn’t been pushed in a while, goddamn, I- Say it again, please, if- If it’s not too much to-”
“Sir,” you repeat, grateful that he remembered the rules this time so you can elicit the right response from him.
“There we go. Right as rain,” he says, jostling his re-hardened member in his hand comedically before rolling on a new condom. “Still-”
“Please,” you cut him off. “Please fuck me, Wade.” It’s all in his voice. You love the sound of his voice, but damn him for talking so much after you put all that effort into making sure you had a good catalogue for tonight!
He cups your face and kisses you once again before entering you once more. You touch yourself as he thrusts in and out of you, no longer able to watch as your eyes clench shut — it’s everything you need and it’s too much. Fuck, it’s too much, you feel like he’s gonna break you, or you’re gonna break yourself.
“That’s my good girl, you feel even better when you do that, squeezing around me just right,” he pants, continuing his erotic rambling. Every word gets you closer, even the ones you can’t process due to just how good this feels.
“It’s- I’m- Come, gonna come again, oh, fuck, ah, please, Wade…” Your voice is steadily becoming more from him than what you watched earlier, but that only increases his fervor.
“Love it when you talk in my voice, love the way you love me,” he replies, just as locked-in. That’s how he sees it? It almost brings you to tears in the best way, you’re so touched.
“Oh, god,” you murmur, just as he did before, but you really wanna scream it as you claw his back, desperate to cling to something physical as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
He stills as well, pushed as deep inside of you as he can go as you come down. You fall back into the bed, thoroughly worn out.
He pulls out once more, repeating the same actions as earlier when taking care of the condom. He takes the unopened packages from beside you and tucks them into your bedside table.
“Wanna go again?” he offers cheekily.
“We don’t all have healing factors,” you remind him with a sigh. “Fuck, that was… Amazing.”
“Was there anything you didn’t like?” he asks.
“No. What about you?”
“Getting overexcited and- Well, y’know.”
“I thought it was sweet,” you reassure him.
“Anything you liked in particular?”
“What you said about when I talk in your voice,” you admit. “You?”
“I meant it,” he quickly says, like he’s scared you thought it was just pillow talk. “I could list a lot of things that I liked in particular, but I really- I loved it all.”
“Me, too.” you reply. You hold open your arms and he eagerly takes his place there.
The two of you take a while to fall asleep, giddiness and excitement still buzzing in the air at your newfound love, but eventually you make it there.
#deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader#deadpool fanfiction#deadpool imagine#wade wilson imagine#marvel imagine#x men imagine#x-men fanfiction#deadpool smut#wade wilson x you#wade wilson smut#deadpool x you
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random question I thought of about the o!sky au- where is Wind at in terms of sex ed? In much to learn he tells Time about helping crew members with heats in a distinctly non-sexual fashion, and Time has to tell him that Wild’s heat is sort of a different situation, so it seems like he has maybe a limited understanding of the whole thing…? Also actually how old *is* he? Sorry if you’ve answered this already lol
To answer your second question: my hc is that presentation occurs later in puberty, between 16-19 depending on the individual and their life circumstances. I'm pegging Wind as a late bloomer around the late-18-year mark in this series.
To answer your first question requires some background on how heat/rut cycles and reproduction are affected by societal and economic pressures in each of the heroes' eras.
Holy shit that is NOT a sentence I ever thought I'd type out loud.
One of the things I find most fun to play with in this AU is the idea that each of the heroes come from eras of different but similar customs that are affected by unique societal pressures. There is a lot of potential for mixed messages and hurt feelings, especially in the beginning, as well as danger to some members of the party, such as in the Era of Legend or the Era of War.
Wind comes from a world not unlike Sky's where small islands of civilization are dotted across the Great Sea. These islands breed small but strong communities among which there are deep family ties. Land is somewhat scarce and the sea itself is pretty devoid of life which limits available resources, especially food.
Consequently, choosing a mate and choosing to reproduce has to be done carefully and deliberately among those in Wind's era. Monogamy is common and family units are typically small with only 1-2 children. Many but not all denizens of the Great Sea have to go far afield to find themselves a life partner to avoid family lines crossing too closely. Alphas tend to outnumber omegas in many but not all eras, and in Wind's time it's not uncommon for an alpha to choose the bachelor life rather than settling down with a family.
Wind would have been raised with a very traditional view of alpha, omega, and otherwise, with an understanding that heat and rut doesn't always equate to sex and reproduction but that it makes those instincts hard to resist. Like in Sky's era, omegas can help one another through 'innocent' heats because there's no risk of pregnancy, but a pirate crew is even smaller and closer to one another than an island community is. Tetra and the others would have no choice but to lean on Wind to take shifts to help though the illness of a heat cycle heat, but since he hadn't presented it would be perfectly platonic in nature. It also wouldn't start up the alpha-omega hormone cycle that dominates Wild's heat in Much to Learn.
In fact, across all eras, those that haven't presented can't really perform any sexual functions during another's heat or rut anyway. Most of the excitement and necessary physiologic changes are dependent upon hormone production that just doesn't happen prior to presentation. It's like being the sober friend babysitting all your weird drunk friends who are all touchy-feely and laughing about nonsense. You're happy they're having a good time but you're just not in the right headspace to get it, maybe, and honestly they're being a bit obnoxious...
In major contrast, heat cycles in the post-Calamity era are a bit of a free-for-all, as Wild's wildly promiscuous nature demonstrates. After the Calamity has settled down and life is beginning to return to Hyrule, little pockets of society are popping up across a vast, untamed countryside. It's been a minute since I've booted up BotW but I feel like in EVERY village and Stable Association outpost there are at LEAST two kids running around, often more.
Alphas in rut likely go and travel to sow their wild oats, as it were. Omega wanderers don't limit themselves to one partner, because why should they? Resources are abundant and civilization is coming alive again, so it's an era to rebuild and prosper. Although traditions and customs in the pre-Calamity era were quite different, Wild's free-and-loose living is a direct consequence of his version of the world.
#stormy talks#o!sky#omega!Sky#alpha!Wind#omega!Wild#fucking i dont know#lore drop?? maybe???#i need a better tagging system
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i was wondering if maybe you could write a lesbian!reader being like besties w the boys and just getting up to random shit
Little Sister 🏳️🌈
The Lost Boys & Female!Reader (She/Her Pronouns)
Summary: Being the best friend to the one and only Lost Boys means that the fun never ends. Tonight is no exception, and something special might happen!
Thank you anon for the request! I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy this!
You adored your friends more than anything in the world. The Lost Boys treated you like one of their own since the day you met them. They were affectionate, fun, and took you on plenty of adventures. It was just an instant connection with the vampire boys. It was almost like having four brothers to look after you.
While you weren’t a vampire yet, you were having plenty of good times as an honorary Lost Girl until you were ready to take the leap of faith as a creature of the night. Between going to bars, riding all the rides on the boardwalk, and causing some trouble on the streets of Santa Carla, there was never a dull moment.
Tonight was no exception. After a good few weeks of begging David to get a tv set up in the cave, the leader of the gang finally gave in to your request. To make you extra happy, he even decided to take you and the others to their Sire’s video store in order to start building a collection of videotapes to enjoy for future movie nights.
“You’re lucky I’m the most charitable one of the gang, hun,” David teased as you browsed through the selections.
“Does that mean you’ll also throw in my own special chair too? I’m tired of using that busted-up couch all the time,” you asked.
David opened his mouth to protest, no doubt to fight the idea of spoiling his little sister. To his annoyance, Paul and Marko jumped in too, jutting out their lips in pouts and widening their eyes to make them appear as sweet and innocent as possible.
“Pweeeeeease, David?” Paul pleaded.
“Let’s get a whole living room set! Pretty please!!” Marko added on to the begging.
David remembered how once upon a time he was concerned about the terror twins overwhelming you. Little did he know that you would work a little too well with them, leading to the name changing to “the terror triplets”. It was a good thing he loved all of you so much.
“Let’s get our movies first and then we’ll talk about re-decorating,” Dwayne chimed in, saving David from your mischievous behavior. You shot him a smile as he reached out a hand to ruffle up your hair.
The five of you continued your adventure through the store. You had to hand it to Max. Even for a total dork who was a shitty excuse for a father figure, he had great taste in the stuff he sold. Figures that after being around for so long, he’d easily figure out what kind of stuff people would want to buy.
Your eyes wandered to the horror section. The idea of picking a monster movie to watch with your vampire brothers was quite amusing. What made it more ironic was that the tape that caught your eye first was a vampire movie. The Vampire Lovers from 1970. ‘Taste the deadly passion of the blood nymphs,’ the tagline enticed you. It really intrigued you.
“Ooh! I highly recommend that one! It’s one of my favorites!” a feminine voice spoke up behind you. Curious, you turned around to see who was there.
You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you were delightfully surprised to see an absolutely stunning woman standing across the aisle from you. She had bouncy curls, glowing skin, and the most dazzling brown eyes you had ever seen. Looking at her reminded you of the warm, fuzzy feelings you got whenever you watched the sunset across the ocean.
Not wanting to stand there and gawk like an idiot, you pushed yourself to find some proper words.
“O-Oh!! What’s it about?” you asked. The title of the film should have been an obvious clue, but your brain was malfunctioning around this pretty lady. Thankfully, she wasn’t put off by your question. In fact, her smile widened.
“Well, I can’t spoil it, but there are beautiful women getting up to spooky stuff. So there’s plenty to enjoy.”
You felt a warm sensation flood through your cheeks. She was such a pretty lady, and you were charmed by her with every moment you spent with her. It made you eager to talk more with her. Get to know her a little better and compare the monster movies you adored most.
It was such a pleasant conversation that had you completely focused that you hadn’t even noticed the boys sneak up behind you.
“Yo! Maria! Ya tryin’ to steal our baby sister?” Marko said playfully. He and Paul threw an arm around your shoulders, sandwiching you in between them.
God, you couldn’t believe their terrible timing. The two of you were hitting it off and now they were going to start embarrassing you in front of the cute girl. If you hadn’t learned her name from his comment, you would have slugged the curly-haired vamp.
“I dunno, Maria, you can do better than her. She snores so loud it wakes the dead!” Paul snickered.
You were not going to put up with their nonsense anymore. With an exasperated groan, you called out for the others to come to your rescue and get the two dorks off of you. Maria giggled in amusement as David and Dwayne came to drag them off back to the action movie section.
“I am so sorry about them. I swear, I can’t take them anywhere.”
“Aww it’s all good,” Maria assured you. “If you really want, we can talk a bit more about movies some other time. Maybe....over dinner sometime?”
It was a miracle your jaw didn’t drop to the ground. Your heart was racing in your chest, the excitement of going on a date with Maria making your blood rush. You had to remember to keep it cool as you agreed to such a nice idea.
The two of you traded numbers, briefly discussing when you could call and make more plans for whenever you would meet up. You even promised to give the vampire movie a watch so that you could talk about your favorite parts with her. That certainly made her excited. With a wave of her fingers and a bat of her eyelashes, Maria bid you farewell.
So, there you were. Standing in the horror movie section of the video store, holding the phone number of a gorgeous lady who wanted to go out with you. You could practically hear the Halleluiah chorus going off in your head.
“Ooooh, someone’s got a girlfriend~”
In an instant, you snapped out of your rose-tinted haze. Your four boys had returned to pester you, all of them wearing the sneakiest grins you had ever seen.
“Aww, you’re not gonna forget about us, are ya?” Dwayne cooed, nudging you gently. The boys all burst into a fit of giggles while your face flushed a deep shade of red in embarrassment.
“Oh, shut up,” you said. “Don’t be jealous because I get pretty girls and you don’t.”
While they all howled at how feisty you were, you would pay them no mind. It was all good fun, and you were just so excited for whenever you got to see Maria again. You were truly going to enjoy being with her.
Tag List: @silvermaplealder @michael-after-hours @legal-lost-boy@britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @bloodywickedvamp @solobagginses @juss-soupp @anxiouslittleweirdkid @vampirefilmlover
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Personal Lies pt4
pt1 pt2 pt3 Pt5
Gareths pov:
"Hey, Jeff. Eddie is gonna be dressing a little differently today. Don't ask why. Okay byeeee!" His words were quick and abrupt. Gareth is glad that the phone went to voicemail and he didn't have to get asked questions about their whore of a friend. Corroded Coffin has a gig today at the biggest venue in town and Gareth invited Robin... and Steve.
All he's trying to do is get Steve and Eddie to go backstage after the concert and become friends and then possibly more. Robin has been a good wingman for Steve but Gareth also had to do his part for Eddie. So his mind was filled with thoughts of 'what if I made Eddie more of a slut to impress Steve?' All Gareth has to do is tell Eddie that he would look good in something slutty and Eddie would go right for it... Right?
"Hey, Eddie!" Gareth walks into his apartment to find his best friend visibly shaking with excitement. "Gare bear! You edited for tonight?" Eddie can't contain his energy. "Yeah man of course. Um, so I was thinking that you would look great in fishnets... you should totally wear them tonight." The thought was abrupt and just tumbled out of his mouth.
Eddie is clearly confused by the random request thrown his way. "Um yeah, I guess. Maybe along with that, I should wear a fucking mesh shirt and body glitter." Apparently, Gareth sucks at sensing sarcasm because he responds with a big smile and a few nods. "Gareth I was joking! I'm not looking to get harassed today. Absolutely not." Eddie puts his hands up in a frustrated sigh and walks to his room, slamming the door closed.
"Damn it."
Eddies pov:
"How the fuck did he convince me to do this?!" Eddie scans his eyes over his body in the mirror. He is wearing mesh, fishnets, a thigh garter, and a small speedo. He looks away, from the fear of backing out due to embarrassment. His wandering eyes land on his old bloody Halloween mask from his shitty doctor costume from 5 years ago. As he picks it up he notices how bare it is. It needs chains and safety pins. So that's exactly what he does.
When he puts the mask on after the renovation he notices how fuckable he looks. The dark mesh shirt is brightened by his body shimmer and the deep black leather of his tight-fitting speedo showing the outline of his dick. The amount of skin he's showing is way too much for his liking so he throws on his leather jacket and walks over to the mirror to do his makeup.
-----------------
Eddie walks over the the Edge of Curtain to stare at the right side of the crowd. There is nobody in the audience who looks like they have intentions of trying to fuck him... at least that hes aware of, so why else would Gareth try to get him the dress like this? "Hey man! You read- damn Ed's you look hot." Eddie nods sharply to Gareth as their ear pieces start counting down from 10.
"10"
What if he gets made fun of for his outfit?
"9"
What if no matter how hard he tries people still see him as a dumb kid who couldn't graduate?
"8"
What if he gets booed off stage for dressing like this?
"7"
What if his voice cracks?
"6"
What if he fucks up the lyrics?
"5"
Gareth, Jeff, and Nathan walk onto stage.
"4"
The boys introduce themselves.
"3"
What if he can't do this?
"2"
What if his jacket ruins the outfit and fucks it all up?
"1"
Fuck it. He strips off his jacket and throws it on the nearest chair.
"0"
Eddie walks out on stage as confident as he can for someone who feels like their gonna shit themselves. The huge crowd cheers as he gets to the microphone. He moves his hair out of his face and peals off the mask revealing himself. He looks around the crowd with a smile on his face as he looks right in front of him.
As he lets his head lower to the front row he spots... Steve Harrington! He's wearing the most beautiful eyeliner, a bundle of silver necklaces, a cropped Black Sabbath shirt, and his hair of course looks better then ever. Eddie lets his mouth fall open out of shock from a sweaty star struck Steve fucking Harrington staring right at him.
They held eye contact for what seemed to be a long time but was probably only a few seconds. They both refuse to peal their eyes away from each other until Eddie feels a hand on his shoulder. It's Gareth. "Eddie. Take your eyes away from the boy and start the god damn song or i'm gonna do it myself."
Eddies eyes reluctantly drag away from the beautiful creature in front of him, and he begins to slowly move his finger across his guitar to start the first song. The concert moves slower then most. Each song feels like it's in slow motion.
On the rare occasion that Eddie is able to move his eyes over to Steve, they boy is already looking at him with the look of a shocked little teddy bear. No matter what, Eddie looks away again.
The concert slowly comes to a stop but right before he leaves he takes the mesh he's wearing on his torso and throws it into the crowd. He doesn't know where it went but at least Gareth can't convince him to wear it anymore and embarrass himself.
As everybody steps off stage he grabs Gareth's arm and drags him into the nearest room. "What the fuck were you thinking?! Why did you decide to make me dress like a fucking whore and then invite Steveeee?!" Gareth walks over to the chair in the corner of the room and sits. "Well first I invited Buckley and of course she invited Steve. I genuinely had no idea he was coming until Robin texted me an hour before the show. I just thought it would be cool if you guys could come back stage and fu-"
Before he can finish his sentence Robin bursts through the door and quickly walks over to Gareth with a shy looking Steve following behind. "Gareth. We need to talk. Right now... please." Not even giving him a chance to protest the grabs his arm and pulls him out of the room leaving just Eddie and Steve.
Steve looks incredible. His hair is as Lucious as ever and his tight pants that hug his thighs just right. Eddie notices himself staring at Steve and looks back up to find Steve also checking him out.
The awkwardness is heavy in the air. Eddie starts pushing up and down on the balls of his feet. "So..." Steve is the first one to talk. "Yeah. So." For some reason the space between their faces seems to shrink. Did they get closer or was he just imagining it?
Steve's lips part and he leans in closer and closer, leaving little to no room in between them. Steve's voice is soft and sweet as he speaks and leans into Eddies space.
"Hi."
"Hey."
Notes: I fucking hate this chapter but to be fair I wrote this at like 1am in one day so..... Punctuation also isn't my strong suit so just go with it. Tell me of you wanna be tagged
Read on Ao3
Tags:
@down-sizing-reduxedux , @gay-stranger-thingsy-stranger-things , @satan-is-obsesseded , @this-is-moony-lovegoody-lovegood , @impeachy , @maraudersfavoritewhoree , @robinbuckleymybeloved , @hyperfixationgoddess , @fandomz-brainrot , @mightbeasleepp , @ali-just-ali , @beckkthewreck , @novelnovellalla , @beeing-stuupidd , @ourautumn866 , @newtstabberr , @love-kurdtt
#steddie#steve harrington#bi steve harrington#indie artist!steve harrington#eddie munson#gay eddie munson#rockstar!eddie munson#modern steddie#bi eddie munson#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic
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//ooc: tldr i made a little writing that kinda like, explains further a hc i have?
i think that solomon has an alcoholic addiction, and since addictions can be hereditary, i think steph would also have a big drinking problem too
but, yk imma deep dive into her first drink
tw: alcohol, drinking, being drunk all in all
—————————————————————————
[How old is the age people start drinking? Most people would say 21. If you were rebellious, maybe 18-19. But Stephanie Lauter’s first ever experience with alcohol was at the sweet age of 16.]
[At 16, what keeps most people busy is school work, work-work, and a lot of work in general. Steph did just that. Teachers used to say she’s diligent. Classmates called her fun. What they didn’t know was that just over a simple weekend, about everything changed.]
[Of course Steph knew her father had an alcohol problem. It’s one of the many traits her mother tried to help him rid. It did work. Only for a little bit, up until they lost her. Solomon fell back into his old habits hard and was often a mess. Underneath his remarkably clean public image was an alcoholic father.]
[Well, can you even call him a father if the one person who took care of his kid was a maid?]
[One evening on a cold winter’s day, Steph was extremely down. Something about the weather, her emotions, and schoolwork had just been too much. Like any reasonable person, instead of asking for help, she immediately looked for a distraction. Sure, being on her phone worked but.. it’s not quite enough.]
[Wandering around her big house was certainly a treat. Her dad is out for more campaign rallies and good PR, which leaves Steph all to herself. Least, she should be. She wandered around both floors, checking to see if any of the housekeepers were there. She then realized that he was going to use the staff as another PR stunt.]
[Perfect.]
[Rushing to her dad’s office, Steph decides to do what her Solomon said she does best. Ruin absolutely everything. Spinning is his office chair, she sweeps everything cluttered on the desk onto the floor with her arm. She enacts her usual routine when her dad’s away from home: Find a pen, a few pieces of paper, scribble a bunch of shit all over it, and plaster the papers all over the inside of his office.]
[There was already a nice pen on his desk she missed to sweep off, so the girl quickly snatched that as she checked the drawers. Few legal documents here and there, a checkbook, random belongings. Steph finally found a large notepad in the very bottom drawer. Taking the notepad out, a slim key fell out between some pages. Must’ve been hidden there.]
[Grabbing the key, Steph stared at it. There’s not a lot of places that her dad uses a key for, let alone hide it She takes the key, slipping the notepad back in as she looked around to find a lock.]
[In the house, Solomon’s office was simple. His desk was towards the back, right in front of a middle. The left side of the room held a bookshelf while the right side had a cabinet wall. And damn, were there a lot of them.]
[Steph snooped around the desk, but to no avail. Of course the girl knew what she was doing was wrong. But did she care? Not one bit. If he won’t properly take care and pay any attention to her, why should she follow? The only thing that would happen is he’d ignore her more.]
[Walking to the wall cabinets, she opened up a few bottom ones, before hitting one that was locked. Checking the keyhole, the girl found that the key perfectly fit. When Steph inserted the key and opened the lock, the few things inside the locked cabinet shocked her.]
[A half drunken bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses, all neatly together on one shelf. Steph’s not surprised by the bottle, he drank ever since she was born. But 3 glasses? Who the fuck was he inviting to drink with him? Nonetheless, she took the whiskey and one glass, sitting on his chair.]
[The idea of drinking always intrigued Stephanie. After all, if her dad and Max can drink like nothing, why can’t she? Although with Max, by the end of it, he’s passed out on the floor a few hours later. Steph simply took off the cork with one hand and poured the glass half full with the other. With her eyes closed and the door locked, she downed the whiskey, drinking it quick before putting the glass down.]
“Agh- oh shit, oh fuck!”
[The taste of the whiskey was virtually nothing, as a burning sensation went down her throat. She checked the bottle to read the label.]
“40% ABV? A- agh, cedar wood flavor? Jesus, this is.. a lot.”
[Continuining to cough after she drank it, Steph stopped and took one more look at the bottle. The feeling of the whiskey down her throat, and whatever was in it, made her want more. It’s gross, she knows she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t.]
[/Right?/]
[She grabbed the bottle again, and poured even more into her glass. She kept on drinking and drinking, even using the two other glasses in the cabinet. The more Steph drank, the more she craved it. It had her on such a high, but at what cost?]
[It was now fully empty. She shook the bottle upside down before twisting the cap back on and putting all the glasses back in his cabinet. Her head is aching, and her body feels like jelly. Everything feels so, /so/ fucking weird.]
[Steph waddled out of her dad’s office, stumbling over the chair and almost tripping on the doorway. The floor was cold, she can feel it in her socks. The air was warmer outside than in the office, and she wandered out into the hallway. Looking up at the stairs, she shakily got up each step.]
[Each time she lifted her foot, it felt like a weight was attached onto each leg. Pulling herself up was difficult, especially with the hazy feeling that Steph was in. She got to room, and collapsed at the foot her bed.]
“/Fuck…/“
[Stephanie Lauter was on the floor, her head about to float away somewhere and her body like jelly. This feeling was so- so weird. This, alongside her atrocious hangover was a sign that she should’ve stopped. Well, would’ve stopped.]
[But she couldn’t stop herself after that.]
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Replaying Nancy Drew without Cheating - Part 8: Danger on Deception Island
I’m going to go ahead and argue that this game, this charming, riveting, addictive game, is the start of a series of 3-5 games that are universally beloved by the Nancy Drew community. I don’t know many people who don’t genuinely have a nostaglic love for this game, me included. In fact, I would have considered this my second favorite for many many years, right after Treasure in a Royal Tower, which can never be replaced in my heart.
I’m also going to go ahead and tell you: this was the first game that I didn’t feel like I needed to cheat even once. The only thing I slightly struggled with was the anagram puzzle from Hilda (BTW, I have a bone to pick with Nancy’s “handy dandy Anagram Buster.” How is this thing handy dandy? I can do what it does using a sheet of paper. It doesn’t bust anagrams at all. Who would have made such a useless piece of software?) Overall though, I don’t think the puzzles are particularly hard, and there’s always something to do next, so there is very little aimless meandering about in confusion. I’ve also played this a fair number of times, so there’s that too.
This is a classic and will always be one of my absolute favorites. It has some of the coolest, most unique elements out of any game, not to mention a top notch soundtrack, and I can guarantee that I will be replaying this game for many years to come.
Some of my thoughts:
1. I think one thing I like about this game is that it is a lot of looking around/snooping/figuring things out by yourself; the game does not rely on having a bunch of conversations with the suspects. In fact, in this play-through, I was surprised at how little Nancy actually does chat with other characters. There were times I was CRAVING some human interaction, but all I could say to people was “It was nice talking to you,” despite the fact that I hadn’t been TALKING to anyone at all.
2. Weird that the first thing Nancy does in this game is get obsessed with a random piece of driftwood that she finds in the water. Who even is she. I relate less and less to Nancy with each passing game.
3. Once again, fuck Nancy’s anagram buster. I hate anagrams, and I hate false advertising.
4. Katie Firestone will never not be a knock-off, more boring Joanna Riggs to me. She is so whiny and boring that giving her food poisoning actually gives me a goddamn dopamine rush (also, WHY does she have some much expired shit in her fridge anyway? The woman JUST went grocery shopping). Despite the fact that you never actually see her do anything wrong, I don’t blame the town for disliking her. I’d love nothing more than to grab my torch and pitchfork and run her out of Snake Horse Harbor alongside clam chowder queen Jenna Deblin and dungeness crab daddy Holt Scotto.
5. Speaking of Holt Scotto, someone go and check that man’s cholesterol levels. He must be slowly eating every male dungeness crab within 10 miles of Snake Horse Harbor, based on how he takes all the crabs visitors bring him and cryptically says that he’ll “take care of that crab” for you.
6. The whole storyline of the tunnels under the town and the history of shanghaiing was the best part of this game. Wandering around underground, actually figuring out on your own (without having to be explicitely told) that the burglars had to have been using the tunnels to rob all the local businesses, finding your way into the sea caves - all very fun gameplay.
7. As cool as finding the orca in the sea caves is, I can’t imagine how scared shitless I would be in real life.
8. Why is Dr. Predoviciu casually the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen? Girl, TELL ME YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE!!
9. After winning a whale watching tour with Andy Jason and taking a bunch of photos, Nancy thanks Andy for letting her use his camera. Uh, is she getting these pictures at any point? Is he going to send her a USB flash drive or some shit? Why didn’t Nancy have her own camera (as a supposedly semi-famous and always prepared amateur detective)?? This makes absolutely no sense to me.
10. Why do we then basically have to force Andy to give us a keychain after the tour, when the keychain probably costs about 50 cents? The sign says the keychain is free to “everyone who takes our whale watching tour,” NOT to “everyone who PAYS for our whale watching tour.” What a crock of bullshit. For some reason, I had a crush on Andy Jason as a kid (that curly hair! that weirdly buff body!) but this playthrough made me realize that I actually loathe him to my very core.
11. Therefore, there is nothing more satisfying than this moment (not even making Katie Firestone throw up over the side of her boat):
12. Speaking of the ending, this game may have the best (or at least one of the best) ending sequences of any game. The fact that Nancy goes up to a RANDOM ASS FREIGHT BOAT, in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, CLIMBS ABOARD, has to STEALTHILY HIDE ON DECK TO NOT GET CAUGHT BY POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS SMUGGLERS, and then FIND KATIE TIED UP BELOW DECK??? Fucking genius. Amazing. It might be the stupidest thing Nancy ever does (the only person she tells her plan to is ANDY FUCKING JASON, after all, so there is no one who would know where to look should she go missing), but it leads to a high-stakes, adrenaline-pumping last several minutes.
13. Hilda. Hilda MF Swenson. The fact that she calls Nancy the millisecond that Nancy finds whatever she was looking for is absolutely hilarious. Hilda is literally spending her life just watching Nancy’s every move through her binoculars, and giving her convoluted, long-winded puzzles to solve for absolutely no reason. Hilda is a more entertaining character than all the others put together.
Ugh, what a fantastic game. The only thing that is keeping me going after finishing is the knowledge that the next few games are equally as brilliant, so I know that I have much to look forward to. On my way to get screamed at by Shorty for picking a slightly underripe green bean. <3
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Before the Morning
CHAPTER 2 - The Disastrous Dinner WORD COUNT: 3664 Words Wattpad: @screamingcamren
Chloe Isabella Stalin @ItsYoMainBitch Apparently, Ella Robinson spilled that having sex with Lauren Jauregui is like having a sex with a dead person. Stoic. No thrill. Boring. And guess what, folks? Ella didn't stop there. She also revealed that vibrator and a fake dick can make her orgasm more than Lauren can. Yikes! Vanilla person spotted! Lucky for her her savior who's name rhymes with Camila Cabello will be throwing her a "All hot boyz" party tonight! If you want to see Georgina and I then you know where to find us. #UselessDickGirl Kisses. 22,646 likes, 21, 543 reblog
"I knew it! I fucking knew it! Ella is Camila's posse!"
Normani laugh, "Shocker! I know it hurts but you'll get over it soon."
I rolled my eyes, "You are the best dick I've ever tasted, Lauren! Oh god! You are so good it makes me go crazy. Proceeds on orgasming 100 times every time. That doesn't sound like a boring sex to me.
"Fun tip: Next time don't fuck Camila's posse."
My eyes keeps wandering around the computer room thinking how can I get back from the embarrassment Camila caused to me.
This won't sit on me. I need revenge. I need my damn payback.
And then my eyes landed on the computer screen in front of me and smirk quickly formed on my lips.
"I know that smirk, you fucking vanilla."
I glare at Normani and she laugh, "Stop calling me vanilla!"
Since the accessibility in this computer is limited I do my computer whiz talent and crack up a few codes before I'm able to access the greatest site of all time.
Pornhub.
I type Latina brown eyes in the search bar and a lot of videos pop up. I started scrolling through each videos looking for a girl that looks exactly like Camila or somewhat close to her appearance.
"Does this look like her?" I asked my best friend as we watch the 4 foot Latina girl being fucked hard by some random white boy.
Thank god we're sitting at the very back.
"She doesn't look nowhere like Camila. And Lauren," Normani pause the video and look at me, "Are you seriously going to spread Camila's fake sex tape video?"
"I've never been this sure my whole life, Mani."
"This is so low."
"Be it lowerst, I don't care. I'm still doing this."
"Lowest, Lauren." Normani corrected.
"Whatever!" I dismissed her, "She insulted my S game, Mani! And my dick is hurt badly! I need to avenge it or else I'll lose sleep."
I snatch the mouse from Mani's hand and continue scrolling through thousands of porn videos.
"Cause maybe it is?"
I stopped and gave Mani a disbelief look, "How dare you! Look, the only reason I got bad reviews in bed is because Ella is one of Camila's tentacles. And I don't take bad reviews very well."
"I don't think that's a good idea. Look, I know it will hurt you so much hearing this but I'll say it anyway. Camila's a smart ass bitch. If you threw her a bomb her first instinct is not to run but to defuse the damn bomb."
Smirk shoot across my face the moment I found a video that looks similarly like Camila.
"Payback's a bitch, bitch!"
I immediately signed in my account, which is premium membership by the way, and downloaded the video.
Normani laughing the entire time.
She gets up from her seat and grab her stuff, "I love the fact that your brain is actually working on this but sleeping during classes."
So that's why she gets up from her seat quickly because she's about to roast the shit out of me.
"Come here you fucker!" I try to reach Normani but she quickly dodge it and run away while laughing.
"We'll post that shit together! Don't you dare do it without me!"
"Fine! Whatever!"
I connected my phone to the computer to transfer the video and then deleted it before I grab my stuff and walk out of the computer room.
I headed to the smaller building of West High where Ally's department is aka the elementary department to fetch my sister. She's a 5th grader and I'm gonna say my sister is the most genius shit ever. And suddenly I can hear Normani's "What happened to you?" monologue speech in my ears.
That idiot.
Little kids like Ally are scattered around the place. Others are playing while some are waiting for their fetchers. I found my sister playing with her two best friend Sofia and Maggie.
"Hey, cupcakes!"
"Lolo!" Taylor immediately stand up and gave me a hug.
"Hi, Lolo!" The other two little cute girls greeted.
"Sup, Maggie and Sofi! Your fetcher's not here yet?"
"Kaki's probably still in her dance practice."
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused whether they're talking about their brother or sister.
Taylor seemed to understand my confused face. "They're referring to their big sister."
"Oh," I chuckled, "So your sister's a dancer, huh? Sophomore?"
"Kaki's a senior." Maggie answered.
"Great! So we're both senior then. What's her name? I might know who your Kaki is."
"Her name's C—"
My phone suddenly rings interrupting the beautiful Sofia from talking.
"Hold that thought," I told her as I pulled my phone out from my pocket. It was mom calling.
"Hey, mom." I greeted.
"Where are you?"
"Still in school. I just fetched Taylor."
"Go home now and help me prepare for dinner."
"Got it! We'll be home soon."
"Okay, drive safe. Love you!"
"Love you too, mom." I ended the call and slip my phone back to my pocket.
"We really need to go ladies. We'll chat next time, yeah?" I gave the two little girls a hug before I swing Taylor's bag pack on my shoulder.
"Babye Maggie and Sofi!"
The three of them shared a long sweet ass hug before Taylor fetch my hand as we walk towards the parking lot.
"Those two looked hella cute. I bet their older sister is beautiful too. And it's a major plus points that she's a dancer."
"She is, Lolo. I saw her once when she fetch Maggie and Sofi."
"Really? Lucky hooman! You get to see her before I do!"
Taylor tugged my hand and she's wearing a teasingly smile, "Are you crushing on their older sister?"
"What?" I chuckled, "Of course not. I haven't seen her yet."
"Yes you do, Lolo! You knew her."
Now that spikes my attention.
"I do?"
Taylor nodded, "They're the ones who's coming over for dinner later."
A smile shoot across my face. Finally I can get another replacement girl for Ella.
"Now I'm excited for dinner."
I open the passenger door for Taylor and she quickly hop in. I place her bag down beside her feet before I put her seatbelt on. I close the passenger door and jogged to the driver's seat.
"Wait, so you said I know their sister. What's her name?"
I turn the car around and started to drive out of the parking lot.
"Camila."
I think I fucking choke.
"What?"
"Camila Cabello."
Oh. My. God.
I bet their older sister is beautiful too. And it's a major plus points that she's a dancer.
Now I'm excited for dinner.
Every appraisal I've said about Camila is like a ghost. It fucking haunts me and I feel like I'm gonna puke the shit out of me.
I called her beautiful. Fuck! No, this isn't happening. I didn't said that. I will never call Camila beautiful. No.
"You're not serious... right?" I asked hoping my sister will say that she is but instead I got a confused look coming from her.
"Oh god, you're really serious. Fuck." I mumbled the curse word. I may have a "malfunctioning" brain but at least I am a good sister.
"What's the matter, Lolo? You don't like her?"
I laugh, "Trust me, Taylor. What I feel for her is beyond that."
"Why do you hate Mila though? She seemed nice."
And she have a nickname for her. Great!
"She's nice to you because you're not me and probably don't have an idea that you are my sister."
"Why do you hate each other though?"
"Because she's a..." I don't know how to describe Camila without associating her name to every curse words out there. "It's a very, very long list why but the bottom line is she's a mean girl. Like, I'm one of the Powerfuff girls and she's the Mojo Jojo."
Taylor make that "Really" face, "That bad?"
"Yeah, that bad."
Throughout the whole drive Taylor told me everything about this Cabello-Jauregui friendship that's been happening between the adults and the little siblings I don't have any single clue about (And I bet even Camila). I learned that our parents have been best pals since high school and the moment they drift apart is when mom and dad moved in California.
And now I'm starting to think the reason why they moved back in Miami is this. I'm really happy that they're best friends and everything but what I'm not happy about is out of all daughters Mr. and Mrs. Cabello could produce, why Camila? Why did their egg and sperm cell decided to create a fake ass bitch that is Camila? The same Camila that I anger the most?
And now it all make sense to me why mom didn't confront Camila in the school earlier. This is the reason why.
I park my dad's car straight to the garage while Taylor burst the door open and run towards the porch. I trailed behind my sister and I saw my parents already organized everything for the said night dinner with the Cabello's.
I helped my mom a little in preparing because god knows what will happen to me if I don't. I baked some cupcakes and muffins for the kids and roasted a turkey and ordered 4 boxes of pizza. I really wish I could know what flavor of pizza Camila's going to eat so I could spit on it and sprawl it with some water coming from the toilet. Unfortunately, I can't tell.
I've been wishing for the hours to go slow or that the wheels of their car flat broke. I'm honestly not prepared to pretend I'm excited and happy to see Camila when in fact all I wanted is to punch her hard in the face until she fell down on the floor unconscious.
But luck is not on my side because as soon as the clock strikes 7:30, the doorbell rings.
"Lauren Michelle, go get the door."
I groaned as I drag my feet towards the front door. I took a deep breath before I open it and I was greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Cabello with a huge smile on their faces. Behind them is Camila and her two little sisters.
"Lolo!" The two girls launch themselves to me happily then turn their attention to Camila, "Kaki, she's the one we're talking about. The beautiful Lauren!"
Camila cringe at the word, "You should've called her the brainless Lauren so I'll immediately know who she is."
Her parents looked at Camila. Their eyes telling her to shut up and the brown eyed girl look back at them innocently, "What?"
"You guys should've called your sister my insecure fan who won't shut the hell up rather than Kaki so I'll immediately know who she is too."
I look at Camila with a smile while the brown eyed girl scoff irritatedly.
"I'm your fan? Please! Nothing about you is pleasant to see. Wake up, you're just a sore in my eyes!"
I watch her parents and sisters look back and forth between Camila and I with a questioning look on their faces. They probably expect us to be a loving friends like them.
But sorry to crash the dream, we're not.
"Oh, Camila! That's why we are best friends! C'mere and give me a hug. I missed you."
I walk over and gulp Camila into a big hug which sent every hair on my body to stand. The disgust that runs through my entire body the moment I hold her is extreme and overwhelming. I'm sure she feels exactly the same way.
A devious smirk appeared on my lips as I whisper to her ear, "I wonder if parents know that their oh-so-holy virgin daughter dated almost the entire guys in school."
"Try to open your big filthy mouth and I'm gonna kill you!" Camila whispered and I laugh as I pulled away.
I face Camila with a fake smile, "You're my favorite sight to see, Camila."
I took advantage of her incapability to fight back by flickering her forehead. Hard. Hard enough to leave a red mark on it.
Camila groaned and glare at me while her parents and sisters are laughing thinking we were both being playful.
Oh, if they only know.
"They are so cute together, Maggie!"
"They are!"
Both little sisters gush while the parents are giving us their warm smile.
"I know Clara's trolling me when she said that you and Camilita doesn't get along well." Mr. Cabello said, completely awe at the sight of us being all buddy buddy
"You guys are so cute." Mrs. Cabello said, "And you must be the famous Lauren. Your mother always talks about you."
"I hope she's saying good things."
"Don't worry she is."
"Shall we?" I motioned through the door, "My parents are very excited to see you guys already."
"We'll get going then." Mrs. Cabello let her kids and husband inside.
"Welcome to our humble abode, Mrs. Cabello."
"Thank you, Lauren. I swear you're the cutest."
"Thank you. I swear you're the prettiest woman I've ever met. Second to my mom, of course."
She look back with a smile and I heard Camila mumbled a "Sucker much?". I watch her parents step inside the house. The moment they disappeared from my sight, I turn look at Camila.
"Actually Lauren, I have something for you." Camila slips her hand inside her jeans then pulled it out seconds later with her middle finger sticked in the mid air.
"From the bottom of my heart... fuck you."
Camila smirk smugly, "Everybody wants to fuck me, sweetie. But to fuck a game you gotta be a coach, and they were all just average players. But you Lauren, you're below average and it's actually disgusting how stupid you are."
I laugh, "Oh Camila, I don't exactly hate you. But if you were on fire and I had water, I'd drink it."
"If you listen closely you can hear me not caring." Camila smirk before walking inside the house.
I followed her and everyone's already settled in the dinning area. Our parents talk about tough cases they handled today, and that's one of the few more things I learned from them; both of our parents are business partners in our law firm so basically they both owned it which I have no fucking idea with.
Proceeding to the little offsprings, Maggie, Taylor, and Sofia are so lost to their conversation on what they will be playing after dinner.
Only Camila and I are the ones who doesn't have a say on anything during dinner. It's not like I will initiate a conversation with her anyway. One fact is clear here— it doesn't matter how much boredom kills us or if the world is falling apart or we're the last people remaining on earth. I'd rather have my tongue cut off than to talk to Camila and Camila would rather talk to a tree than to have a conversation with me. That's that.
"You know I'm your best friend Lauren," Camila suddenly spoke while slicing her steak.
I bite my pizza and started chewing not giving a damn fuck on what she's going to say.
"And I'm always here if you need me." She lift up her eyes finally meeting mine. She smiled devily, "I heard you FAILED FIVE SUBJECTS and it's okay. I'm here to help you cope up."
I almost spit out the pizza.
Everyone's conversation stops and all eyes landed on me and Camila at how the words " failed five subjects" are so well-emphasized.
This fucking bitch!
"Lauren, is that true?" My mom inquired.
I can feel her eyes boring a hole at the side of my head but I didn't look back at her nor answer her question. I'm just looking at Camila with a deadly glare. The bitch pretended to be shock that she dropped the bomb at the "wrong" fucking time.
"Oh god! You didn't know, Mrs. Jauregui?" Then she turns her brown eyes on me. Her face screams the most fake ass apologetic expression ever, "Oh Lauren,"
"No, I didn't. But thank you for telling me Camila. You are so kind—"
"I didn't failed five subjects, okay?! She's lying!"
"I have proof though."
"Are you fucking serious?!"
"Lauren, your mouth!" Both of my parents called me out.
Camila took her phone and showed the screenshot of my academic card to my parents.
Okay, first of all, how in the hell did she manage to snap that out?
"Don't take this in a wrong way, Lauren. I'm just concern to you. I'm your best friend and I wanted to help you out."
Her face screams a fake concern expression but her eyes are smirking devilishly.
"We're gonna have a talk after dinner, Lauren."
"I'm just concern to you too, Camila. But tasting every guys in school is not good."
Camila's entire demenour changes making me smirk. I shift my eyes on her parents who looked completely shock.
"Es eso cierto, Camilita?"
"No. Por supuesto que no, Papa."
"Whoops! Parents didn't know? I'm so sorry, Camila. I thought they knew all of your sexual activities inside and outside the school."
Camila's boiling in anger at this point and I'm loving every seconds of it.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little slut. Name one guy you haven't fucked." I sing out loud with a smirk.
Camila quickly fires back.
"I'd like to see things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ass."
I laugh, "I'm so sorry you were offended when I called you a slut. I didn't know it was a secret."
"And I suppose you having an STD is not a secret too considering you're a skank."
"Good story Camila, but in what chapter do you shut the fuck up?"
Camila laugh, "You're hurt to hear the truth and that's fine. But I have to say this— if idiots could fly it's no surprise that you'll be the damn airport. You know why, Lauren? Because you are the epitome of stupidity!"
"You know why I can't stand you, Camila?! It's because you're the most asshole fake ass bitch I've ever met!"
"Maybe if you weren't so fucking stupid then maybe I won't be a damn bitch around you!"
"F the fucking Y I, Camila! My IQ is much higher than your retarded brain!"
She laugh angrily, "Please! My goddamn dog is much more smarter than you!"
"You know what?! Fuck you!"
"Okay, stop! We heard enough of this banter!" My mom yelled, stopping both Camila and I. But the death glare that we're giving each other didn't. "We get it. You two are not friends. You two hate each other. We get it. No need to say a very inappropriate words in front of the little ones!"
"See?! This is all your fault!" Camila and I said at the same time while pointing fingers at each other.
"Enough!" Now it's her mother's turn, "This feels weird to know that the adults are friends, the little siblings are friends, and... well, except for the older sisters. What's happening in here?"
"Camila fucking Cabello happened!"
"Lauren!"
"One question Mr. and Mrs. Jauregui. There's a lot of stupid people in the world, why did you decided to add one more?"
"Camila!"
"Your mother should've swallowed you!"
"And your father should've wiped you on the sheets!"
"You talk so much shit, I don't know whether to offer you a breath mint or a toilet paper!"
"Please, Lauren! You couldn't pour the water out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel! That's how stupid you are!"
"Ladies! Aren't you tired fighting with each other? Look at your younger siblings. They're much more matured than the two of you!"
"Lolo and Kaki would be a great friends if they ever get along." Tay suddenly butt in out of nowhere earning a loud disgusting scoff from the both of us.
"Friends? I prefer killing her instead!"
"And I prefer chopping off your damn tongue if that will stop you from abusing the privilege of being a stupid moron!"
"And you guys would be good looking couple too." Maggie commented, earning a smile from both the adults and younger ones.
Camila scoff, "Please! I don't do relationship with a dyke! Let alone a brain dead dyke!"
"I would rather fuck a lifeless body than to be in a relationship with a bitch like you!"
"Ladies! Oh my god! What did I say about the inappropriate words? And could you two please calm down?" It was my mom and she's already giving me a death glare which is not a good sign at all.
I guess I already consumed too much of my freedom of speech in this table so I just slide down from my chair a little and shut my mouth.
"We and Taylor are like that at first but when we finally get to know each other well we became best of friends." Sofi started and both our parents agreed.
"Maybe if Lolo and Kaki get to know each other too then they'll be friends too."
Camila's about to open her big dirty mouth when Mrs. Cabello cover it.
Thank fucking god!
"Thank you, Mrs. C—" Taylor covered mine as well.
"The kids have a point. Maybe you guys need to get to know each other more." My dad says.
"Spend a lot of time together." Added Mr. Cabello.
"What do you have in mind, Ale?"
"I don't mind sending Camila off to a dorm as long as she's with Lauren. Right, Sinu?"
Mrs. Cabello immediately nod her head. "Yeah, and Camila's 18 already and it's also practice for college."
"We don't mind sending Lauren off too." My mom says.
Wait, what?! Are they seriously proposing THAT?! No way! No fucking way I will live in one house with this fucking asshole!
I immediately push my sister's hand, "No, okay?! I would rather live in a house full of cockroach than to live with this asshole!"
"Lolo! Your mouth!" My sister called out, slapping my thigh.
"It's only right that you live along with your species."
"Camila!"
"Oh yeah?!"
"Aww I hurt your feelings by being blunt? Boo hoo! Maybe you should cry me a river, build me a bridge, and grow the fuck up!"
"You know what, Camila?! You are the reason why God created a middle finger! So fuck you!"
"Okay, that's it! That's enough! Starting tomorrow you two will live in one apartment. That's it. That's final."
Oh hell fucking no!
#camren#camren is love#camren is real#camilacabello#lauren jauregui#gxg#enemies to lovers#fifth harmony#dinah jane#normani#normani kordei#ally brooke#Wattpad#fanfic
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| Best Friend |
Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!
Word Count: 10661
Warnings: Some curse words and overthinking. This one got a bit long!
Summary: After a CC Convention is announced, you and your friends plan to meet up for it. You expect to enjoy yourself with friends but instead are forced to deal with feelings you didn't even know you had. Luckily, your friends are there to give you a push in the right direction.
"Okay but height comparison between Quackity and Sapnap when??" You asked midst all the chaos occurring on that wonderful night. Despite your busy schedule, you'd gotten some time off to finally stream and some friends to keep you company.
Which resulted in this mess of a stream you were now broadcasting.
Your question caught their attention, and a soft scoff could be heard from Sapnap's mic.
"You're kidding, right? You're basically saying you need to CHECK that I'm taller when we already know that's true. You're insulting me." Sapnap said, the cockiness evident in his tone. You couldn't help but stare at your monitor in amusement at how sure of himself he sounded.
"That's not true. Literally check the height check Karl and I had versus the one Sapnap had with him." Quackity argued back, earning scoffs from almost everyone on the call.
"I know you're trying to use that to back you up, but you're just proving my point." Sapnap was intense whenever he became competitive or got into arguments, so you could only raise your brows as you watched chat fly by with their own opinions on the discussion, including their very questionable comments regarding Sapnap and how attractive he was being.
"Well, personally," Bad quipped in, "I think Sapnap's the taller one. Just makes the most sense since Quackity gives off Short Person Energy."
"Yeah? Well keep that WRONG opinion to yourself. That shit's embarrassing-"
"Language!" Bad interrupts Quackity, eliciting a laugh from everyone on call.
"You know chat," you call out after pondering on a solution for a bit, "We can figure this all out during the meetup!"
"Meetup?" Bad asked, confusion evident in his tone. You could almost see his furrowed brows and confused smile.
"Yes, Bad, meet-up. All four of us. Plus the others. And you guys, if you decide to go." The last bit was directed at the viewers. "Don't you remember? The convention is a thing that's supposed to be happening this year."
"Ohhh." He let out a small sound, as if his memory was finally coming back. "I haven't decided if I'm going yet." He admits softly.
"You most certainly are! You have to be there so I can beat BOTH Sapnap and you up once we all find out I'm the taller one." Quackity chimes in finally, teasing tone evident.
"As if," Sapnap scoffs, "Bad and I will literally kick your ass."
"Language." Soft as ever, and also a sign that it's getting late. You look over at your monitor, which displayed the time before letting out a small gasp.
"Oh- it's late. I hope I haven't been keeping you guys awake for too long. It's probably best we end for tonight anyway." You hum softly as you click some tabs away, noticing the faint sounds of stretching heard in the background of the call.
"It's fine, I wasn't even tired until you mentioned how late it was. You should've kept quiet." Quackity says with a patronizing tone, to which you simply chuckle.
"Thank you guys for sticking around. I really had a lot of fun.. we should do this more often. Us four." It was an honest confession, but perhaps too soft for them all and too personal for the audience to listen in on too.
"I had fun too, you should invite me to your streams more often, or, whatever." Sapnap mumbles, sounding a bit tired as well, but sincere despite the lack of care in his words.
It results in a small smile on your face anyway.
"Bye!! Thank you for inviting us, I'm gonna miss messing around with you all. Sleep well." Bad adds, a small whine to his voice as they all start saying their goodbyes.
As they finish up their goodbyes, you quickly deafen to start saying your own goodbyes to chat and thanking the last minute subs rolling in.
After all is over, you finish closing up the tabs, leaving the discord one last. As you're about to officially leave the call, you realize there is still one person there. He hadn't left.
"Quackity-?" You'd voiced out in confusion after undeafening. You'd thought they'd all leave while you took your sweet time saying goodbye.
"Yeah?" He sounded confused by your own confusion. You couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your face.
"Were you waiting for me to end or did you just forget to leave the call?" It was a genuine question, but perhaps a teasing tone slipped in towards the end.
"I was waiting, I'm not an asshole nor a dumbass." He lets out a laugh before continuing. "I just wanted to say I had fun tonight."
You hummed softly, "I'm glad you did. I had fun too."
"If I'm being honest, I wasn't feeling all too well, and just, joking around with you.. Sapnap, and Bad.. well it was just really nice. Thank you." His tone was soft, filled your headphones so nicely and brought comfort into the air.
"Oh, well it's good that you're feeling better now, but if you ever aren't feeling up for a stream.. please tell me, okay? Your wellbeing is much more important to me than a scuffed stream."
"No no, it's fine. I needed something to distract myself with and you all helped so much. It really got me excited for the meet-up. I- I can't wait to hang out with you in person. With all of you, I mean."
The smile on your face grew, almost to the point where it had your cheeks hurting. "I can't wait to hang out with all of you either. Good thing we won't have to wait long, hm?"
Faint sounds in the background of stretching and even softer yawns. "Mhm. Do you wanna switch to phone call?"
It was the usual invitation to fall asleep on call together. At this point, it almost felt strange whenever you headed to bed without Quackity mumbling stuff about his day to you or hearing the soft breathing sounds from his end of the call.
"Sounds good. Talk to you in a bit." You smiled, hearing a small bye from him before leaving the call. You turned off your whole setup for the night and headed straight to your bed.
It didn't take long for the phone to start ringing a few moments after you'd managed to lay down.
"Hi." You answered softly, placing the phone next to your head as you covered yourself with your blankets. It was only a matter of time before the sleepiness took over, but for now you'd enjoy Quackity's company.
"Hey." Was his response, voice sounding much closer now that you were laying down with your phone so close to your ear. It almost felt like he was laying down beside you.
You wondered for a split second what that would be like, if he'd be warm and welcoming or if he'd value his personal space while sharing a bed. As friends, of course.
You refocused on his voice as he began talking about his plans for the meet-up, and all the things he wanted to do once you all were in person. It was so sweet to hear how excited he was, and just how much he wanted to do with you all.
Sweet moments like these make you hyper-aware of the amazing friends you have, and how much love you have for them all. Tonight couldn't have been better, all thanks to them.
—
As the meet-up date gets closer, and more interactions happen during streams / calls / messages, it becomes more evident how much your friends mean to you; just how badly you want to meet all of them.
And as the date for the meet-up gets closer, responsibilities such as packing for your trip join your very long To-Do list.
You're on the phone with Bad as you both choose clothes to take, folding and packing them nicely. Making conversation, with Rat barking in the background occasionally, as the cherry on top.
Moments like these make you realize how good of a friend Badboyhalo is. He's kind, always knows what to say to help people feel better. He's funny, he's charming, full of love and support for his friends.
You two had been joking around on FaceTime for quite some time after you'd packed all essentials. He showed you tricks he'd managed to teach Rat, and you gave him an apartment tour.
Neither of you seemed to be getting tired, so you stayed on call until somehow you ended up sprawled on your sofa, laptop at hand, screen sharing YouTube videos. Bad was resting comfortably on his bed as small giggles left him at the absurdity of the videos you two were watching.
Every few minutes a small "We should do that," or a "Imagine Sapnap doing that," or a "I want to meet you all so bad," would be murmured into the air with only a hum of agreement to compliment it. It only made you yearn for your friends even more.
"Bad." You called out after quite a few random videos and lids getting heavier with each second.
"Yes?"
"When I see you, I'm gonna hug the shit out of you. I hope you know that." You said, small smile on your face as you watched his head lift up from the pillow at such a fast speed.
"Language-! But well, that would be nice. I will also be giving you tons of hugs. To all of you." He pauses for a second before continuing. "I was actually kinda nervous for the meetup, but now I'm just so excited."
"I'm really glad to hear that, Bad. I will make sure you enjoy yourself to the max."
"Thank you y/n," he replies softly, resting his head against the pillow again, "I will make sure you enjoy yourself too."
You smiled at the state he was in, you two would fall asleep in no time, so your thoughts were honestly incoherent, and your tongue could not be tamed as your thoughts wandered aimlessly.
"Do you think I can take Sapnap and Quackity in a fight? In case they try to beat me up?"
"I doubt they'll try to beat you up, they'll be too busy fighting each other, and he'll be too busy thinking about how cute you are." His words were slightly slurred at this point, and all you could do was laugh as you imagined a fight between Sapnap and Quackity as fans tried getting a picture with them.
It crossed your mind for half a second to ask who exactly would be thinking such a thing, but any sign of a functioning brain between you two was nonexistent at that very moment. So all you really said was, "Good. But I'm still going to be prepared just in case."
—
After so many excited calls and planning, the day was finally here. Everyone would be traveling out today to meet up at the house you'd all managed to rent for the week / weekend you guys would be staying there. This way, you'd all be able to maximize the time spent together, and also save money. It sounded like a wonderful idea, really.
After arriving in the city, you patiently waited for the driver that'd be taking you there. You couldn't help but realize just how anxious you were starting to feel. The moment when you'd meet all your friends was getting closer and closer. What if it wasn't everything you'd expected? Or if it was awkward?
The ride there was too quick. Before you knew it, you were pulling your luggage out the trunk and heading up the path that lead to the front door. You stood still for a few seconds before your knuckles were knocking against the firm wood. The noise echoing for a few seconds as you stood in anticipation.
The door swung open, and with a big grin, you were pulled into a hug by no other than Badboyhalo. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as well, not wanting to let go. He was finally here! And he was real! Real, so so real. Any concerns you had on the way here slowly dissipated the longer he had you in his warm hold.
"Bad!" You said happily, slightly squishing him as your embrace tightened for a few seconds. Seriously too good to be true, but true nonetheless.
As he finally pulled away to smile at you, you felt lightheaded at the insane rush of dopamine in your system. As your head finally cleared up, you realized someone else was walking towards you two.
He wore a small smile on his face as he approached, it slowly growing as he got closer and as excitement became harder and harder to contain.
"Quackity." You called out, face lighting up immediately at the sight of him.
"Hi." He responded, sheepish smile on his face. Had he always looked this good?
It only took a few steps before your arms were around him, pulling him close. Although your firm grip caught him off-guard, he managed to melt into the hug soon after, arms wrapping around you as well.
"Big Q! Quackity! Alex!" You smiled as you pulled away, hand reaching up to give his cheek a light squish. You couldn't really help yourself, he was just too pleasing for your eyes. If the dopamine from earlier wasn't already too much, having him this close and feeling oh so real was even more deadlier.
He laughed at your affectionate touch, obviously not having enough of you either. It didn't take long for him to pull you back in for another embrace. "Holy shit." he mumbled into the hug, "You're actually fucking here. I can't believe it y/n." His tone was soft and it had you melting into his embrace all over again. It was intoxicating in the best way, but eventually you both pull away, smiling at each other with so much appreciation.
You hadn't really taken into account just how excited you were to see all your friends, especially someone as important as Quackity. The one you told almost everything to during late night calls, the person you could honestly consider a best friend. All of them were that to you, but it just felt so much stronger with him. You didn't really know how to explain it.
Before you could even give your mind time to dwell, Quackity was being pulled off you by none other than Sapnap and Karl, which quickly replaced Quackity's arms with their own.
"Guys!!" You called out happily as you hugged them back just as tightly. "Am I really the last one here? Where's Dream, or George?"
"We've literally been waiting like an hour for you to get here! We were all getting impatient." Karl laughed as he finally pulled away from the hug.
"Seriously impatient." Mumbled Sapnap into your shoulder before letting go from the warm embrace. "What took so long?"
"Sorry that I don't live as close to here as you guys do. My flight took longer than expected too."
"Who cares! At least you're finally here." Dream's voice, followed by heavy footsteps on the floor, and laughter as George ran over to where you stood with your suitcase.
"Y/N!! We're all finally together." You almost closed your eyes instinctively from how bright his smile was. George's energy was so contagious, you couldn't help but return the energy he was giving you.
Finally, you turned to Dream, who was standing there in all his tall glory.
"Holy shit." You mumbled as you eyed him from head to toe. "You're so fucking tall."
Laughter erupted from everyone before big arms wrapped around you, filling you with warmth and love. You were finally here with all your friends, and it was better than you could've ever imagined.
"Okay," Karl announces once everyone had greeted each other and given all the much needed hugs, "We were actually thinking movie night so we can all just relax and enjoy each other's company. What do you think, y/n?"
"You aren't getting any complaints from me. What movie are we watching?"
At that, Karl and Sapnap raced off to see who could get the remote control faster. You assumed it was in regards to who had the power to choose what everyone watched.
You watched in amusement as Karl and Sapnap argued over what movie to watch, George chiming in here and there just to fuel the lighthearted argument.
"Did you think they'd be just as annoying in person?" You jumped slightly at the sudden voice coming from behind you, but quickly relaxed as Quackity stood beside you.
"No, I also didn't think it was such a big deal who got to choose the movie." Your eyes trailed back to the arguing pair.
"Oh hush. The food Dream ordered isn't even here so really we're doing you all a favor. Taking our time to choose wisely." Karl argued back, to which Dream laughed.
"I guess that's one way to see it, but it's almost here according to the app, so hurry up."
Silence, before the arguing resumed and filled the living room with a pleasing buzz.
You watched as Dream headed over to you and gently placed his hand onto your shoulder, "Let me show you where your room is so you can get all comfy before movie night starts, yeah?"
"Thank you, Dream. I'd actually really appreciate that." With that, you gave Quackity a small wave before following after Dream. Freshening up after sitting in a plane for hours would certainly help make the rest of the night 10x more pleasant.
—
Once you'd walked back out into the living room, you saw everyone had their plate of food, everyone already comfy in their spots.
You looked around before spotting the empty seat beside Alex and the plate of food you assumed was for you.
"Hurry! He's not gonna bite. Sit down so we can finally start movie night." Sapnap whined the longer you stood around.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that.." George mumbled before receiving a stiff elbow in the ribs from the person seated next to him.
"Language." The last fatal blow.
Dream chuckled before pointing at the available seat. "We even waited for you in order to start eating, so sit your ass down."
You playfully rolled your eyes as they all started complaining about how long you were taking. You sat down beside him, giving him a glance before picking up the plate of food before you. It was still nice and steamy, just like Dream had said it would be after dropping you off in your room. You hadn't realized just how hungry you were until now.
After taking a few bites and hearing the movie start, your gaze returned to the person peacefully sat next to you, taking a few seconds to truly take in the sight before you.
He was wearing a plain black short-sleeve shirt, and some basketball shorts. He looked so comfortable. And even indoors with friends, the beanie kept his hair away from his face and hidden, poorly, but hidden nonetheless.
You smiled as you got comfortable as well, admiring how the light from the TV illuminated his face before finally deciding to focus on the actual entertainment Karl and Sapnap had worked so hard to pick. All for movie night.
The movie was interesting, and you couldn't help the few times you almost choked on your food due to all the jokes being slipped in throughout the movie. Maybe Karl was right about how it takes time to pick the perfect film that fit the mood. A good laugh, some good food, and the company and comfort from friends was the best thing to do on the first day together.
Before you all knew it, you were 2 movies in and all in drowsy states.
Everyone excused themselves, the exception being George and Quackity whom had fallen asleep towards the end of the second movie. Dream agreed to wake George up, meanwhile you turned to the sleeping figure next to you.
He looked too cute, mouth slightly open from the uncomfortable position he'd fallen asleep in. You gently shook his shoulder. "Alex." You called out a few times, until finally his eyes fluttered open and he slowly looked around in confusion.
"You fell asleep during the movie. We're all heading to bed for the day, come on."
Regardless of his sleepy state, he stood and followed as you two headed to your rooms.
"Goodnight, Alex."
"Night, y/n."
As you finally laid in your bed for the next week, you couldn't help but feel so fortunate to have such a wonderful opportunity to meet all of your friends and share a home with them.
You couldn't wait to see what tomorrow had in store for you all.
—
It was a lazy morning and lazy afternoon the next day, the only exceptions being going out for lunch, but besides that everything was done in the comfort of their home.
Dream, Sapnap, and Karl were busy playing a multiplayer game in the living room while Bad, George, and Quackity messed around in the kitchen, eating snacks and making up the absolute dumbest shit to stay entertained.
It seemed difficult to choose which group to spend time with, but you found yourself headed towards the kitchen within seconds of contemplation. Sitting on a chair laughing at George's dumb jokes, egging Bad on, and laughing along to Quackity's contagious laughter.
You found yourself coincidentally seated beside Alex as you all continued to chat and mess around. After some time, the other three joined in, and dinner was ordered so they could all eat together after a long day of lazing around.
You'd all rented out the house for a few days before the convention in order to be able to enjoy more time together, so lazing around today hadn't really seemed like a waste of time, or like it could've been spent better. You'd definitely suggest actually going out for dinner rather than just ordering online for the rest of your stay though.
Before you knew it, chaotic dinner was over and people were headed straight to bed, a certain pair deciding to stay awake just a bit longer in the living room.
You rolled your eyes at their bullshit excuses before heading straight to your room. You quickly changed into sleepwear before sitting in bed and simply scrolling through social media. Honestly, you were tired but not to the point where you could easily doze off. Something felt like it was missing, and you silently racked your brain for answers while continuing the mindless scrolling on your phone.
About 30 minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door. Any distraction was welcome at this point, so you called out to let them know they could walk in.
Before you stood Alex, who seemed to be fresh out of the shower. He was in his sleepwear as well, but the beanie was nowhere in sight. His black hair was out in display, most likely to let it dry, but such a sight still had you in shock.
Not that you hadn't seen it before, but it always surprised you. No matter how many glimpses Quackity provided you with.
You stared in shock for a few seconds longer before snapping out of it and telling him to come in. He smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed.
"I couldn't sleep." He stated, before deciding to further explain. "I almost called you right now before going to bed.. I guess that's just how used I got to our calls-? But then I realized you're literally in the same house as me."
Ah. So was that what was missing? The reason why you couldn't doze off as easily? Because you weren't on call with him?
"That's true, I guess." You hummed before chuckling, "What's wrong with talking on the phone while we're here too?"
"You kidding? I'm not trying to be like Dream and Sapnap who still voice call and barely see each other even though they literally live together." You laughed at his comment, making him laugh as well at the absurdity of that situation.
"So what does that mean? You came to sleep here or something?" It was a joke, really. But I mean, why else would this dude be standing here by your door, talking about how he wanted to sleep call but instead found himself here.
"If you'd let me."
You almost choked at how easily he answered, was he joking too or was he actually expecting you to let him climb into bed? To sleep, of course, but it still had you taken-aback.
"You're serious?"
"Does it look like I'm joking?"
You stared at him for a bit before shrugging, "Get in then."
Nothing wrong with 'sleep calling' in person, right? Laying in the same bed, chatting until each other's voices lulled them to sleep. I mean, just because it was in person this time didn't make it any weirder. They'd slept on call together too many times to count. This was fine.
Alex smiled as he closed the door behind him and headed onto your bed, starting to get comfortable.
As you two lay there, you couldn't help but turn to your side and simply stare over at him. His hair to be exact. He'd never had it visible for this long, on group calls, normal calls, or just showing glimpses. It felt so surreal.
"What?" He mumbled.
"It's just- your hair. It looks so nice. You look nice." You smiled at the sight before adding, "You should do a hair reveal already so everybody can see this."
He turned to lay on his side as well so he could be facing you. "Hell no. Plus, doesn't it make you feel special? Being one of the few people who have seen it? Especially up close and personal."
The last part made you realize just how close you two had gotten within the last few seconds. Being at this proximity made you realize a lot more facial details you hadn't noticed before, probably due to camera quality and pixels.
Your hand slowly reached out, coming to a halt next to his head. He realized what you were trying to do and came a bit closer, letting your fingers gently run through his hair. After a few seconds, it all felt too natural.
There you were, laying in bed with Alex, gently playing with his dark locks as you talked about who knows what and simply enjoyed each others company.
This is basically what those late night calls felt like. Except this was definitely way better. It had the physical aspect of it that calls did not. You got to see him in such perfect resolution face to face, without worrying about any possible lag. You both were real. Basking in each others presences happily.
It didn't take too long for you both to fall asleep, and it didn't take too long either for your sleeping bodies to find comfort in the heat sources nearby.
What started as a simple arm draped around the other to steal a bit of body heat turned into having him close enough to smell the scent that lingered on him from his shower. Close enough for his grip on you to feel just a bit too intimate. Close enough where maybe their noses touched.
That was possibly the comfiest 9 hours of sleep either of them had gotten in a long fucking time.
—
The warmth you find yourself surrounded by makes it hard to get out of bed. As you attempt to fall back asleep, you realize that you're not tired. On the contrary, this might be the most satisfied (in terms of energy and sleep) you've felt in a long time.
What the fuck??
That's when that warmth you'd loved not even a minute ago comes to mind. At first you'd thought it might've been the blanket, but one glimpse to the side answers all your questions.
Alex was the one providing you with this comfortable and lovely warmth. He'd come over last night talking about 'sleep calling' in person. How could you forget?
The tension that had spiked in your body at the realization that someone was in bed with you oozed away as you looked at his peaceful state. He looked.. cute.
A few hair strands were on his face, and you couldn't help as your hand instinctively reached out to get them off his face. You hoped it wouldn't wake him up. He looked too peaceful.
As his face came into full view now, you openly stared, noticing the little moles he had all over his face. It was like stars splattered on the night sky.
As your gaze lowered and lingered on his lips, you realized just how pink they really were. And how unbelievably soft-looking they were. It brought you back a memory of his smile from yesterday while you both ate and watched the movie. You hadn't really caught the bit that had made him laugh since you were staring at him. He had a really pretty smile.
Your thoughts were interrupted at the realization that his eyelids had fluttered open, and were now staring up at you.
Oh God. You probably looked like such a creep right now. The heat that was rising up your spine and onto your cheeks must've been obvious, since he let out a small laugh.
"Were you enjoying the view?"
His morning voice took you by surprise. Sure, you'd heard it during calls sometimes, but this was on another level. It was wonderful.
"I was debating whether or not I should wake you up. You looked too peaceful." You answered, trying your best to steady your embarrassment. It wasn't necessarily a lie. He just didn't have to know all the other thoughts that crossed your mind.
He chuckled at that, before stretching a bit. "Thanks for letting me wake up on my own." He sat up, looking over at you with a small, satisfied smile. "That might've been the best sleep I've gotten in a while."
"Me too." You admitted, soft smile on your lips meant for him and him only. He stared back before returning the smile.
You two stayed in peaceful silence before deciding now was probably the best time to get up and get some breakfast with the rest of them. "We should get dressed so we can go eat."
He simply nodded before giving a small wave, heading back to his own room.
It didn't take long before you were heading out of your room and following the faint laughter into the kitchen. They were seated at the table, barely setting plates down and getting ready to eat. Just in time.
"Y/N! Good morning." Karl smiled, waving you over to the available seat beside him. Everybody else called out their good mornings as you got settled into your seat.
"Was wondering when you'd wake up." Sapnap mumbled from the seat across you. "You and Quackity sleep so fucking much."
You tensed a bit at that. Did they know you two had slept together? In the same bed? Had they tried waking you up and found you two together?
It's not what it looks like, is what you'd probably say as an explanation. Even if they didn't ask for one.
George nods in agreement, "Sapnap and I almost went and knocked on both of your doors. But we figured you both must be tired, so we just came to get breakfast ready."
Okay, perhaps they didn't know. Afterall, they were suggesting that Quackity was still in his own room. "I'm sure he'll get here in a bit." You responded, thanking Dream as he set a cup down on the table for you.
"Finally! Sleeping beauty chooses to come grace us with his presence." Sapnap greeted. You turned your head to see none other than Quackity flipping Sapnap off as he walked into the kitchen. He was dressed for the day, and had his hair hidden away with a beanie.
"How'd you sleep?" Bad asks as Alex finally sits down at the table.
"Wonderful. Best sleep I've gotten in a while." His eyes meet yours for a bit, and you can't help but smile at the implications of his words. You'd helped him sleep well. He felt comfy with you. He smiled back before looking back to the cup being given to him.
"Mm that's good." Bad nodded, before serving whatever breakfast him and Dream had managed to cook for everyone. Bad never failed to amaze you, talented as always.
"We were planning on going out today, is everyone up for it?" George asks, looking around the table for any signs of complaints.
"Honestly I'm all for it. I want to spend time with you all, exploring or just looking around." Sapnap answered, to which you cooed.
"Aww Sapnap, we'd love to spend time with you too."
"I'd fucking hope so. Now where did you want to go, George?"
"Dream and I were researching fun things to do here and we found a pretty good list. Just need you all to say yes and we can head out after breakfast."
He wasn't getting any no's, so the plans were set. Everybody ate their breakfasts before heading out the door to wherever Dream and George planned on taking them.
As you all walked to your destination, which wasn't too far according to George, you found yourself walking beside Bad.
"So, Quackity huh?" You ripped your eyes off from where they were to look back at him.
"Huh?"
"You and Quackity." He wasn't elaborating any further, which left you confused.
"What? What about him?"
"Well, you were staring at him right now and-"
"Oh. I zoned out, Bad. I'm sorry. Hopefully you didn't get the wrong idea." You interrupted him, letting out a small laugh.
"Well, that's not really what gave me the 'wrong idea'.. it was mainly the smiles and stares you two were giving each other this morning. And well, in general. Wanna fill me in on something?" He raised his brow, putting some space between you two and the rest of them by slowing his pace.
Your eyes widened slightly as you slowed down as well. "He was staring at me?"
He nodded, before adding "As much as you were staring at him."
You opened your mouth to try and explain yourself, before you heard Dream calling out to you two, saying they found the place. You gave Bad an apologetic smile before walking with him to where the others stood.
You'd come to a place with food, alcohol, and arcade games. You couldn't have expected less from Dream and George. It was perfect for this group.
You watched as Karl and George bought the cards you'd all be using to play the games. Soon after, they came back and handed everyone their card. Everyone was ready to split off to play different games.
"Y/N and I are going to fetch a table so we can leave our stuff there." Bad said with a smile. You looked over at him knowingly before nodding in agreement.
The rest of them nodded, Sapnap grabbing Dream's arm and racing off with him to the games. Karl, George, and Quackity went off to another game, excited chatter following them.
You walked beside Bad in search of a table quietly, watching as he looked around before finally approaching a table big enough to seat you all.
He sat down, looking at you expectantly. You did the same and cleared your throat as his gaze remained on you. You let out a small sigh.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." He smiled a bit at that. "I mean, he came to my room last night, said he couldn't sleep, and then we slept together. That's it."
You watched as his eyes widened slightly at the information he'd just gotten before your own eyes widened.
"Wait- no no! Not like that. I meant he literally slept with me. Like we fell asleep together." You could feel the heat rushing up to your face. "He said he got used to our sleep calling and I just let him sleep in my bed. It was really comfy."
You looked up, his stunned face making the heat rise faster. "Woah. I thought the cheeky little glances you guys were giving each other was things starting to get good, but you already shared a bed with him??" He let out an amused laugh.
"It's not that big of a deal, Bad. We sleep call all the time.." You felt sort of embarrassed, hearing his reactions and telling him things that felt more intimate than they should be.
"Uh? Not a big deal?? You're kidding right?" He let out a laugh, happy smile on his face. "You guys like each other!"
"Bad-! Keep it down please.. and we certainly do not." You were sweating at this point, Bad was so energetic and happy right now, and the thought of Alex hearing any of this had you on edge.
But the most discomforting part of it all was how much truth his words held. Did you actually like him?
"Am I lying, y/n?"
I don't know, is what you would've said, if it wasn't for the confusion clouding all your senses.
"y/n?"
You looked over at him, mouth slightly open, trying to form your thoughts. "You really think I like him?"
"I mean, I've been having a feeling. Since before the meet up."
What? Was it obvious for everyone? How had it taken this long for you to realize it? Those intrusive thoughts while you were staring at him this morning in bed. Had those always been there? Was he aware of your possible feelings?
"Holy fuck, Bad. A lot of it is starting to make sense." Your eyes were slightly wide from the fear of what this implied. What this meant for your friendship with him. "I-I think I do like him."
He seemed to notice how tense and shocked you looked, so he reached out and held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
At the moment, you were connecting all the pieces, and things were slowly starting to make sense. Why you acted a certain way around him, random thoughts thinking he was cute, the need to meet him as soon as possible. God, why had it taken so long for you to realize?
"I mean, at least you ended up liking a nice muffin, right?" It sounded more like a question, which had you letting out a laugh. "What I mean is that he's a good guy, liking him isn't horrible. I can see why you'd end up liking him. Plus- I think everyone can see you two are pretty close."
His words helped ease the tension building up in your shoulders, but your head was still spinning. "I know he's nice, but in what sense? As in, I'll confess and he'll reject me nicely?" You paused, tensing up at just the thought of how awkward that would be. "I'd hate to ruin our friendship just because my dumbass caught feelings."
"Language." He mumbles, before letting out a small sigh. "He's nice as in he'll be understanding if he DOES reject you. But did you miss the last part of my speech? I said your friendship with Quackity is very different, anyone can tell you guys are really close. I can see where these feelings might've come from."
"Just because we're close doesn't excuse me having feelings for him. I mean, what does that say about me? Unable to have close friends without growing romantic feelings for them?" Your voice sounds hushed, as if it's dangerous to admit your feelings out loud.
"I'd say we're close friends, do we have romantic feelings for each other?" He asks softly, playing with your fingers absent-mindedly.
"I mean, I love you tons."
"I love you too, but it's not in the way you like Quackity, right?"
You kept quiet, gently biting at the inside of your cheek. Your brain was looking for ways to invalidate your feelings, tell you it wasn't right, but Bad was fighting through that and trying to reason with you.
"We both love all of our friends, and are really close to them.. but what you and Quackity have is different. I can see why you ended up liking him. Plus.. I really don't think he'd reject you. In fact, I think he likes you too."
"Bad." You warned, unsure you could handle overthinking the possibility that he liked you too right now. The realization of your own feelings was already too much.
"I'm just saying." He says, raising both hands in playful surrender. The sight elicits a small laugh from you.
But maybe.. maybe you were a bit curious. "You really think so?"
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. Plus, this is coming from someone who's been friends with both of you for a very long time. I see and notice things."
"Thank you, Bad. I really appreciate you and just‐ thanks for talking this through with me." It's honest and raw. He'd watched you sit at this table, trying to work everything out in your brain, and had just been endlessly supportive.
"Of course. I'm here if you need anything, alright? Now, just relax and let's go play some games, yeah?"
"Okay.. let's go!" You smiled and tugged at his hand, leading him over to where Sapnap and Dream were playing.
There was no way you were letting your own feelings ruin the fun of good food and some arcade games. You'd deal with that later.
—
Bad's advice and pep talks are top tier, but sometimes he oversteps. He doesn't mean any harm, but at times it is just too much. This is one of those times.
There's just a few days left before the big convention, and honestly the time spent together so far has been an absolute bliss. And well-spent considering you've all been out and about more often.
You find yourself in the living room with all of them, joking around and making up stupid songs while Quackity plays a beat he claimed to have made himself on his phone. It's peaceful, and no joke is taken too far. Until Bad starts trying to be the 'best wingman', as he likes to claim.
"Quackity, you should write a song for them, and perform it here in front of everyone." He says as he nudges you suggestively, a knowing smile on his face. It's so sudden and you need to make sure you heard correctly. You can feel yourself tense up at the thought of Quackity making a song dedicated to you. Specifically you. No one else.
Of course, it comes off as a joke, but since Bad knows you like Quackity it just seems way more personal. It seems like he's making it so obvious, but maybe everyone else is painfully oblivious. Clueless.
"Wow Bad. You just want him to roast the shit out of me, don't you? That's messed up." You make a noise of disappointment, trying your best to sound calm and collected.
George laughs at that, "Wowww Bad, that's pretty messed up. But you should, Quackity. Make one about Y/N and their muffins. It'll be funny." George didn't know a thing, but it felt like he was making it worse. As if there was a specific reason why they teased him into making a song about you.
With the playful cheering of everyone around him, he cleared his throat and a new beat started to play on his phone. Before you knew it, he was singing about your fictional muffins and how he would order a dozen, and found a way to include Rat slander in there as well.
Maybe you were stressing out for no reason at all. Perhaps you were the only one taking it weirdly and everyone else was just joking around making stupid songs up on the spot. You took a deep breath, and began to relax.
As the night continued, you tried to avoid any possible spotlight, focusing on getting George and Sapnap to go at each other, and the others egging them on so all you really had to do was watch the chaos ensue. It would all just lead to Sapnap calling the rest of them out and starting more playful fights.
As arguments kept coming up, the one you'd all been talking about on that one stream came to mind.
"Wait.. we still haven't done that height check between Quackity and Sapnap." Karl said with a shocked laugh. "How many days have we been together exactly?"
"Too long." Dream chimed in, eager to see the short people fighting over height they didn't have. At least not compared to him.
"Oh yeah huh." Sapnap said in realization. "Stand the fuck up right now, Quackity." He stood to his full height, puffing up his chest to try and appear taller or bigger.
Quackity rolled his eyes, "You guys only brought that up because I was clearly beating you guys in that argument."
"Okay? Stand up then."
If you were a person passing by hearing this conversation, you'd think a brawl was about to break out. Maybe you'd call security. But having context, it really was just Sapnap in his arguing mood, petty and trying to prove a point. There was no way he was sitting down until he proved he was taller than Quackity.
A small grumble of disapproval left Quackity's mouth before he stood to full height. Bad walked over and lead Quackity towards Sapnap, telling them to stand back to back so everyone could see the height difference.
You sat there in anticipation as Bad got them set up, watched as they compared heights very carefully, watched as the results were announced, and watched as Sapnap cheered and screamed some shit in Quackity's face when it turned out he was a few inches taller than Alex.
To make things funnier, Dream walked over in amusement and checked their height difference himself, making the other two look so much smaller than they already did. It was always a pleasant shock seeing just how tall Dream was compared to the average person.
This lead to height checks between all of them, trying to figure out who was the tallest (easy) and who was the shortest.
After everyone had gotten tired from the playful arguments and day they had, they began leaving to their rooms to freshen up or get comfy, probably needing a break from the banter.
Dream, George, and Karl had agreed to go pick up something to eat while the rest of you guys stayed in the living room. Just chatting now, relaxing, no height wars or petty arguments. Kinda.
"By the way, I found this one cool shop with a bunch of anime stuff. You're coming with me to check it out, right?" Sapnap asks, breaking the peaceful silence that surrounded you all while scrolling on your phones.
You looked up in confusion, not sure who he was talking to. His eyes met yours, and he gave you a look that said he was waiting for your response. "You wanna go with me?" You ask, a bit shocked since you'd expect him to go with Karl or something.
"Duh. We could look through the whole shop and see what we can find. Maybe go eat afterwards." He explains with a smile. He seems excited, and his energy is just so contagious, you can't help but smile as well.
"Well, since we're all here I'm assuming we're invited as well. Right, Sapnap?"
It's Quackity, inserting himself into the conversation, eyebrows raised and lawyer voice on, ready to fight Sapnap on this. This earns him a scoff from Sapnap.
"Don't think you'll wanna come with us. I know it's not really your thing."
"Sapnap, I'm sure he can join. Don't you see he's pouting? Plus, I'm sure food will cheer the baby up." You tease, watching as Quackity's facial expression changes into a scowl.
"Yeah right. Plus, it's rude to ask them out in front of Bad and I. We're literally their plus twos."
Bad snorts. "Plus twos? He's definitely not letting us tag along now."
Sapnap nods. "You literally have so many other days you can spend with them. Let me have my moment. Ask them out yourself if you want later."
You stiffen at the implication he's making, unable to stop the confused frown that appears on your face.
"Whatever." Quackity mumbles, before quickly switching the conversation to his beanie and what he should do to stop fans from snatching it off his head.
The topic of conversation is interesting, and quite frankly very funny, but you can't help but focus on Sapnap's comment.
Surely, he meant no harm. But you can't help the feeling that your little secret you'd shared with Bad was growing more noticeable. And if Sapnap knew? How long would it take for Quackity to realize and push you away?
"Y/N?"
You blink away your state of confusion as you refocus on the conversation. "Huh?"
"I said, how does superglue sound? For his beanie and stuff." Bad had been calling out to you, trying to reinvite you into the conversation. Apparently, you'd been quiet for a while.
"You're such an asshole, Bad. You just want to see me bald so bad." Quackity huffed.
"Not true! Also language."
Bittersweet. Your own thoughts were ruining the fun conversation your friends were having. How to answer this without seeming too obvious? Not like a pining idiot?
"I mean, so what if your hair falls out? The beanie will cover it. It's worth it."
"Plus," adds Sapnap, "your fans have been saying you're bald anyway. Prove them right."
"You're all no help to me and my problems." Quackity finally mutters, earning a laugh from the three of you.
His problems. You wouldn't wanna add another by making him have to deal with a friend trying to get out of the friend zone. You really need to get your feelings in check.
Honestly, you need to get better at hiding this shit. You can't just keep going quiet or getting lost in thought whenever someone suggests anything NOT platonic between you and Alex. I mean, it's ridiculous at this point. Bad is giving you stares, Sapnap might know by now, George might know. Hell, maybe even Quackity knows.
Too much. As soon as the others get back, you excuse yourself and call it a day.
—
Sapnap had been serious about going to that Japanese shop. He'd woken you up early, made you get dressed, and was dragging you out the house before the others could bat an eyelid.
Honestly? You'd had a lot of fun. Watching him look through all the items, picking out everything he wanted, getting matching plushies and these tiny figurines that ended up being too fucking expensive for their size. He'd been so happy, you even offered to pay for his meal in exchange for what he'd bought you earlier.
Throughout your adventures with Sapnap, you received a few notifications from Quackity, asking what you guys were up to, when you'd be back, and whether Sapnap was forcing you to stay over there with him. Sapnap and you rolled your eyes at that last bit, sending him a picture of you two flipping off the camera. All jokes, of course, and in return you received a picture of Quackity doing the same. Then he began claiming that you guys could stay there all day for all he cared.
"Seems like someone is jealous." Sapnap had said after reading Quackity's messages. You looked over at him in surprise before he quickly pocketed your phone, dragging you along to a new section of the store he'd wanted to check out.
Did Sapnap really think so? Could there be a chance Alex actually liked you, like Bad had suggested?
Beside your overthinking, the day had been well-spent, and by the time you got home, you were ready to get out of your outside clothes and into your PJs.
As you finally walked out into the living room, you watched with an amused smile as Sapnap sat with the rest of them, showing them everything he had bought at the shop, including little gifts he'd brought for them all.
No matter how 'careless', he came across, Sapnap was truly a softie. It was endearing watching him hand out the gifts you two had bought at the shop.
You made your way over to the couch, sitting beside Quackity and giving him a smile as he raised his brow. "Don't think I forgot that picture you sent me earlier today."
"You know I didn't mean it." You mumbled as you returned your gaze to Sapnap and his cheerful smile.
"You owe me an apology. And you need to make it up to me."
You scoffed at that, "You flipped me off too."
"And? You did it first. I'm the injured party here."
"Fine." You sighed, turning you gaze back at him. "How can I make it up to you?"
"Mmm.. how about we 'sleep call' again?" You froze at his suggestion, looking over at the others to see if they were listening in on your conversation.
They weren't, all too entranced with the small rant Bad was going on about a certain manga Sapnap had bought.
How could this man just admit that you two slept together with his whole chest. Without a care in the world for who was listening.
"Is that really all you want?" Stunned was the only word to truly describe how you were feeling at the moment.
"I mean, for now. I'll have to see tomorrow if I feel any better."
You rolled your eyes at that. He would most likely take advantage of that and drag it on for as long as he could. "Did you really miss me that much, Alex? Need to make up for the time lost today?"
"Wow. You're trying to make me look desperate now?"
"I just think that's how an outsider listening in on our conversation would interpret it."
"Y'know what? Let's go right now. Since you wanna call me desperate."
Again. Stunned. How was this man acting like it was nothing? This shit wasn't normal. Last time wasn't too bad because you didn't know, but now? You'd be too focused on not making it seem romantic, just purely platonic laying on the same bed together with your friend who you don't have feelings for.
It didn't take long for everyone to start heading to their rooms. He excused himself, and you followed a few minutes after, heading to your room in a daze.
As you waited for him to come to your room, you couldn't help but wonder if it'd be the same as last time. Would you be able to play with his hair or cuddle close in a strictly platonic way? Maybe you could call him bro a few times so it didn't seem like you liked him.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and revealing him in all his glory. He looked so comfy, and the beanie was once again nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps you were overreacting, but you felt this was his way of letting you know he trusted you. That he was truly comfortable around you.
This time, he felt more at ease entering your personal space. He got into bed and got comfy on his own. It didn't take long before he was facing you again, just like last time.
You smiled at him and did the same as him, your previous plans of putting distance and calling him bro getting thrown out the window at this new sight of him.
He looked so cute, just laying there and looking at you. He looked so warm too, you couldn't wait until you actually got to pull him close and blame it on your sleepy state.
"So," he started, "how was your date with Sapnap?"
Huh? The tone really caught you off guard.
"It wasn't a date. We just went to look at some manga he wanted, and got little gifts for everyone. Went to eat."
"Sounds like a date."
You narrowed your eyes at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
"Well, it wasn't. Why does it matter to you though?"
"It doesn't."
"Then?? You jealous or something?" You raised a brow, genuinely confused, but also wanting to see his reaction to the last bit. Maybe it'd give you some insight on his feelings for you. If there was any.
"I'm just making sure! Sue me for trying to respect anything that could possibly be going on between you two." He paused. "I wouldn't want to be asking you to sleep with me and then it turns out you and Sapnap are a thing."
You paused and simply stared at him. Was this dude serious? He was worried about you and Sapnap dating, when in reality you liked HIM? Sick and twisted.
"Well, you don't have to worry about that. Sapnap and I aren't a thing. I like someone else." You answered, and honestly you don't know why you said that.
He paused for a bit, expression unreadable before simply nodding. "And is it possible to know who this someone is??"
How did you end up in this position? It wasn't that long ago that you were confessing to Bad about your feelings for Alex while surrounded by fucking arcade games. And now you were in bed with him while he asked who your crush was. Leave it to you to mess up this badly.
You took a few more moments to just lay there with him, hand eventually going to his hair and gently playing with it. "I don't want to ruin anything." You finally responded.
It was the truth. You could just tell him, but you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if your revelation lead to him growing distant, or him rejecting you and ruining the rest of the trip.
At that, he sat up, making your hand slip out from where it had been playing with his hair. "Are you afraid you'll hurt my feelings?"
You sat up as well, staring at him for a bit before shaking your head. "I'm afraid you'll hurt mine."
"I wouldn't dare." He said reassuringly, hand reaching out to intertwine with yours.
It might've been the adrenaline rushing through your body, or the pessimist in you just telling you to get over with it, but you sat there and confessed that you liked him.
At first, there wasn't much of a response beside his wide eyes and stunned smile. You didn't necessarily know what that meant. Was he on the verge of laughter or was he shocked because he liked you as well?
The silence was killing you, and you swear you could feel tears threatening to spill as he continued to just stare. Nothing could've possibly been worst than his silence at that moment.
"You really do like me? Me, Alex Quackity?" Were his first words, and you watched as he shook his head, as if he was trying to make sense of it all.
"I don't expect you to feel the same or-"
"No no. You like me?"
He was trying to get you to repeat it, or admit it again, but it was torture.
"... I do."
He smiled at that, coming closer and using his free hand to cup your cheek. "Yeah? Well, it's your lucky day because.. I like you too."
You really couldn't believe what you were hearing. Bad had been right about him liking you as well. If he found out, he'd brag about being right and being the 'best wingman' for so long.
"Seriously?" It never hurt to double check.
"Yeah."
And with that, the distance between you two was closed. Soft lips pressed against each other awkwardly at first, not used to kissing your best friend, but it soon melted into a sweet first kiss.
After he pulled away, you gently cupped his cheeks as well, smiling at just how unbelievable this was. The guy you'd been unknowingly pining for this whole time actually liked you back, and you'd just kissed him on your bed. Bonus: he was staying the whole night for some cuddles.
You laid back down, pulling him with you and simply wrapped your arms around him, leaving small and shy kisses on his cheek, not used to this at all, testing what was okay and what wasn't. But his smile and kisses he was giving you as well told you he was more than fine with this.
"Does this make up for it?" You mumble against his own lips, teasing tone evident.
"Yes, yes it does."
—
The next morning was when the countdown finally came to an end. The day you'd all been waiting for; The Convention.
You knew this meant getting up, eating breakfast, and starting to get ready. It was a big day.
But when Quackity wanted to lay down for just a bit longer, how could you possibly say no?
This lead to you both having to walk out of your room and head straight to the kitchen 15 minutes later. There was no time to waste by pretending to have come out of your own rooms and at different times.
As you both approached the dinner table and sat down, you realized the table was dead silent, all eyes on both of you.
You looked up, making eye contact with Bad. He had this knowing grin on his face, and you couldn't help it as you felt the heat rushing up to your face. Quackity seemed unfazed by it all, simply yawning and beginning to eat his breakfast.
"So did it work or what?" Sapnap broke the silence, an expectant look on his face as he stared between you and Quackity.
"What are you talking about?" You asked, now feeling very confused.
Bad couldn't hold in his laughter any longer, and burst out into happy giggles.
"Well we were trying to make Alex get jealous so he could finally make a move. Did he do it?" Sapnap asked. Karl was smiling wide, trying to cover it with the sleeve of his sweater.
Did this mean that Karl, Sapnap, and Bad all knew you two liked each other? Had these three plotted this shit? Getting you two to realize your own feelings?
"What? You did that shit on purpose?" It was Quackity's turn to be dumbfounded.
"Duh. We figured we'd give you guys a little push in the right direction." Sapnap had a satisfied smile on his face.
You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Your friends had worked together to make you both come to terms with your feelings. Since you two were so oblivious. Wow.
"I hate to say it since it means you actually helped,,, but it did work. We talked last night and well.. we both confessed." There was a soft smile on his lips as he told the others about what had happened.
Bad let out a small cheer, clapping his hands excitedly before congratulating you both on talking out your feelings.
"Okay now that the lovebirds are finally together, let's finish breakfast and start getting ready. Remember today is a big day!" Dream said, sounding quite excited himself.
You'd honestly forgotten for a few minutes because of the whiplash of your friends confessing they were playing cupid.
Today was the convention. The whole reason you'd all traveled out here. This whole trip had been lovely, leading up to the final event.
And you'd be leaving with a date, and good memories spent with fans and friends.
<3
#alex quackity#quackity#quackity x you#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#gender neutral reader#quackity brainrot#quackity scenario#streamer#quackity headcannons#quackity imagines#quackity and reader meet up#cute meet#jealous quackity#Bad and Sapnap are plotting#friends playing cupid#quackity is oblivious#reader is oblivious#fun time with friends <3#this one got so long wow I'm so sorry#10k word count who cheered#hope you enjoy
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hold on tight || b.c (m)
"hi! can you write something about streetracer!chan x f reader where things got heated up 🥺🥺 i really like your works by the way, kiss yourself really is one of my jisung’s fav fic !!" - anon
a/n: holyashjdljzhldsa just the thought of streetracer!chan makes me... omg i don’t even KNOW, i'd actually go crazy... and omg tysm! that means so much to me :,( and you're gonna have to excuse me since there's so many things heated could mean i'm just gonna make it angsty and smutty,, also kinda went off for a fluffy ending because it's bang chan, the christiano bangnaldo, how can i not???
● pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader
● genre: a lil bit of fluff at the beginning | angst | smut (mdi!)
● warnings: chan acts like a dick but he really isn't | illegal gambling/street racing | established relationship | angry sex | (of course) car sex | hair pulling | degradation + praise | dom!chan, sub!reader | fighting :( | semi - public sex | profanity | suggestive dialogue | reader slaps chan once :( | unprotected sex (please be safe!) | choking | kind of a quickie???? | super happy ending because i'm sappy like that
● requested? yes!
● words: 8.7k
→ summary:
You’ve never known about your boyfriend’s secret and very illegal job, if you could even call it that.
"Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight 'cause it's gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling."
It’s a cold, rainy night. You’re waiting comfortably on the couch, sitting there wrapped up in one of Chan’s blankets, waiting ever so patiently for his return. He’s not usually out this late, neither did his job usually end this late. Your mind was getting the worst kinds of ideas as you held your phone in your hand, more worry than anger coming over you. You couldn’t be mad at him, really, you were just worried something happened to him, since he wasn’t picking up your calls or even looking at your texts.
It’s around midnight, and you swore you wouldn’t sleep until you watched Chan, in all his glory, walk through the front door of your guys’s shared apartment. You’ve been dating Chan for years, ever since high school. And, now, even after graduating college and finding a stable job and apartment, Chan still tended to keep things from you. It was a bad habit of his, yes, but you couldn’t really be too mad at him for it. Besides, you’ll be able to help him out of that habit. Once he comes back, at least.
To wait, you decided to watch a bit of television to let your mind wander from the thought of something bad happening to Chan. Of course, the subtle thought of him cheating crossed your mind a few times, but Chan’s only ever been the most loyal and dedicated boyfriend, even past his pretty hard shell. He acts pretty tough sometimes, but you know that he’s just a little bit insecure about himself on the inside. Which, to you, is completely normal. Everyone’s at least a little bit insecure. You couldn’t blame him for that.
Getting with Chan was actually very difficult at first. You both had a rocky start before you started dating, since Chan was kind of like the cliche popular bad boy, and you were the snarky book nerd. You both started off arguing and bickering about everything. But, when you both got closer and closer, you began to see a softer, kinder side to him. And, like magic, you two started dating. You don’t really remember how it happened. It might’ve been just Chan saying, “Wanna date me?” or something like that just ‘cause it’s simple. However, getting it past your parents about your relationship with Chan was the most difficult in the world. They did not approve of him whatsoever. Even today, they’re still cautious of him even though Chan’s already proven his loyalty to you and swore to your parents that he’d never lay an aggressive finger on you.
You’re parents didn’t really like him because of his choice of outfits and friends, which was a stupid way to judge somebody in your opinion. So, no matter how many times they tried to break things off or distance you from Chan, you two always found your way back to each other. Though it was fun, all the sneaking out at three in the morning, saying you’re going over to a friends house when you’re really going to go see Chan and all the late night calls in a hushed tone, you’re glad you can finally relax about it and live peacefully with Chan without the need to sneak around.
But, your mind hasn’t been so peaceful these last few hours. There’s still no sign of Chan and no opened messages. You gave up on calling him after the fifth call had gone unanswered, and just decided to wait. Clutching your phone to your chest in case he were to call or text. Your eyes switch between the screen and the front door (which led into the living room).
You nearly jumped out of your blanket when your phone started ringing obnoxiously loud. Your heart beat loudly as you scrambled to look at the caller’s I.D. And, thankfully, it’s Chan. You’ve never answered so quickly.
“Chan?” Your excited voice squeaked out when you brought the phone close to your ear, a bright smile etching over your lips. Just happy that he’s in contact with you.
“Hey, darling,” Chan’s voice was husky and tired, and a little deeper than you remember. He must be exhausted, and you wondered if he had to stay late at work, “I’m so sorry for being out late. I’ll be home soon.”
“Alright… Is everything okay? What were you doing out so late?” You ask carefully, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.
“Work. My boss had me work over time. I would have texted you, but I was pretty busy,” in the distance, you can hear the sound of his car’s engine. He must be driving pretty fast. Chan also has a really nice car he saved up for and worked really hard for. It’s a smaller, good looking and really, really fast car. You could recognize that engine anywhere.
“Oh… I’m sorry about that,” You respond after a moment.
“It’s alright. Nothing to worry too much over,” you can hear Chan’s smile even through the phone, “And, by the way, could you do something for me before I get home?”
“Sure.”
“Could you make me something small to eat? I didn’t have the chance to eat dinner at work. If you could do that, that’d be so great, baby.” Chan says, and you get up off of the couch. Already heading for the kitchen.
“I could make you some jjajangmyeon? We have all the ingredients,” you say, surfing through your pantry.
“That’d be great, (Y/N). Thank you,” Chan sighs through the phone, and you pull out the ingredients.
“Of course. When will you be home?” You ask before he could hang up.
“I’ll be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes, at the least.” He says, and you can hear the engine get a little bit louder behind him, “I have to focus on the road. I’ll be home soon. I love you, baby.”
“Love you, too, Chan.” You respond, and hang up. Now with the satisfaction and the relief of knowing Chan’s coming home, you separate the ingredients out and start cooking (thank god you took that home economics class back in high school. You couldn’t cook for shit before that). Since Jjajangmyeon is a pretty slow cooked dish, you try your best with temperature control to fit it into the timeframe for when Chan gets home, wanting it to be ready for him.
You had your hair tied back as you cooked, occasionally looking up to watch the television, which was still on the random news channel from before. It talked about things you weren’t too interested in, so you only kept it on for background noise.
You were so immersed in cooking, you didn’t even notice the door slamming open and closed and a pair of heavy footsteps walking up to the kitchen. You jumped when Chan’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin planting itself on your shoulder. He laughs tiredly at your reaction, and you turn to give him a subtle glare, but your smile deceived you.
“Hey, baby. I’m sorry for coming home so late. I promise it wasn’t my intention,” Chan grumbles out, his words low and slightly slurred, mostly because he’s tired.
“It’s alright, don’t apologize,” you chuckle softly as you arrange two portions of the jjajangmyeon into two different bowls. Chan watches silently over your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re home. You worried me. Please text me next time, before you stay overtime and don’t bother texting me. I worry a lot, you know?”
“I know, (Y/N). I know you worry too much for your own good,” Chan smiles softly, chuckling tiredly, “It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
You smile, flustered, and raise a warm hand to press against Chan’s cheek, turning your head to press a loving kiss to his temple, which is cold, even in the warm kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat in bed?”
“Not if you’ll make me do the dishes directly afterwards,” Chan lets go of you to take his dish, and you take yours.
You cock a brow at him, “I was going to make you do them anyways. You’re not getting out of it that easily.” You giggle and tap his nose with the tip of your finger. “Come on. Take mine, too. I’ll shut everything down.” You hand your bowl to Chan, who takes it quickly as you scurry around, turning off the television. Turning off lights and putting the dishes in the sink.
Once Chan’s changed into more comfortable wear and you’re both comfortable in bed, watching some show on the TV while eating. Time at home was usually like this; relaxing. You’re cuddled up to Chan while he ate slowly. Once you both finished, you placed them on the nightstands for the time being.
Chan was asleep instantly. You were up a bit longer, still a bit run on adrenaline from worrying so much earlier, despite knowing you have to be up early for work. Chan didn’t have to work till the afternoon, but you had to be up early since you’re a librarian at the local public high school. Chan’s an assistant producer and works under a decently big entertainment company. It’s quite the drastic difference, but you being a pretty big book worm yourself, you decided it would be fun to be a librarian (mostly using your literature degree), even if it’s stressful at times. Chan’s work, however, is much more tedious than your own. Where you can usually go at your own pace, he has more strict deadlines and sometimes more difficult work.
So, you let Chan sleep on your stomach. His arms wrapped around you securely as his face nuzzled into the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you were wearing. You were up a bit longer, watching the TV while running your hands through Chan’s soft hair. Enjoying the moment for the time being before you, yourself, drifted off into a deep sleep.
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You were the first one to wake up the next morning, per usual. You woke up to your alarm that Chan thankfully slept through. You got ready as quickly and quietly as you could. Since you work in a pretty professional environment, you wear something modest, but fits well with the fall weather and your fashion style. You wore a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks under a jacket with your university’s logo on it and a pair of sneakers. They weren’t too big on dress code for the teachers at the school, but the students still had to wear uniforms.
Before you left, you made Chan lunch for the day and yourself a lunch. You even bothered to wake him up briefly to give him a kiss goodbye and that you’ll be back early afternoon, although he’ll probably be at work, then. Chan, although three fourths asleep, gave you a tight hug and a kiss with a slurred ‘Love you’ before plopping back onto the bed and instantly falling back asleep.
Although Chan had quite the expensive car, he wasn’t quite fond of you driving it. You have your own car, and it’s fine. Mostly used to drive to and from work and nothing more, since most other things you were with Chan, so you both usually took his car. It’s not so much a matter of richer and poorer, his car just had more little trinkets and things that are just more convenient. You’re not completely sure what model his car is, all you know is that it’s expensive.
The school isn’t too far. It’s actually a ten minute drive from your apartment. You have to make it there pretty early, so the roads aren’t jam packed like they would be when Chan has to drive to work. So, you have a bit of an advantage there. When you get there, you’re met with the people in the front office, who bow respectfully to you, and you make your way to the library.
You set up at the large, round desk. You especially like being a librarian, because it’s quiet. You don’t think you’d do too well as a teacher, so you settled for a librarian since it was a good and easy way to use your literature degree and put it to good use, other than the fact you’re writing a novel, but that’s a whole other story (hehet).
It’s about half an hour before some students pile in, bidding you good morning and sitting down at the tables to study for whatever assignment or test they have, or to finish homework. Some of them go around to look at books, but most just sit by their lonesome and work on whatever while blasting profane music into their poor ears.
You were busying yourself going through overdue books, and emailing parents about student’s overdue books. You were immersed in your work, so you were somewhat shocked when someone tapped your shoulder. When you turned, you were met with the smiling face of your coworker. A middle aged, pretty woman named Jung Migyeong, who gave you the permission to call her ‘unnie’. She’s considerably your work - best friend. She’s the only person who really delved into conversation with you, unlike most of the other teachers who only talked to you about whatever book they’re class reading or for book suggestions (and you just choose the first book in the library that comes to mind).
“Oh, you scared me!” You giggle in a hushed tone, and Eunmi smiled brightly, her motherly aura giving you a sense of calmness.
“Sorry, sorry!” Eunmi sits on your desk, more leaning against it. Eunmi is really a pretty lady. Her hair is cut short to her shoulders, and she never wears makeup. Her natural tone is without blemishes or acne. She always wears pretty dresses to work, and she always carries around her purse for some odd reason. “I wanted to catch up with you. I didn’t realize you were so immersed in your work. I should’ve known, you’re more responsible than half the teachers here.”
“I try, I really do,” You respond, leaning back in the chair and smiling up at her, “Do you have a free period for the first hour?”
Eunmi nods, “Yes, I do. They switched it up just ‘cause of something wrong in the student's schedules. But, that’s past the point. How have things been going? In the home life?”
You shrug a shoulder, your smile dropping, “It’s… going. My boyfriend didn’t come home until, like, twelve - thirty last night. He said he had to stay late for work, but I don’t get it, Eunmi. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I don’t think his job prevents him from at least opening a text until he gets off, you know?”
“You said he’s a producer, right?” Eunmi asks, her head tilting down to look at you more clearly. You nod, “Well, he might’ve been busy with the idol. It’s pretty difficult work, I’m surprised he’s been able to keep up with it well.”
“Well, he came home hungry and tired,” you sigh again, “Which is weird because if he stays late he usually grabs something from the kitchen at the company building or fast food and eats it before he comes home. But, he was hungry… not super hungry, but I made him jjajangmyeon.”
"Jajangmyeon?" Eunmi’s head tilts, and one brow lifts and she scoffs, “That’s like a fifty minute dinner.”
“Not if you toy around with the temperatures, no,” you smile, and Eunmi shrugs a shoulder, “Eh, I was the one who suggested it to him. It’s one of his favorites, and he sounded exhausted and overworked so I though, you know, might as well. But, after eating, he was out like a light. You wouldn’t think that producing would make someone so tired.”
“You never know,” Eunmi reassures, “You seem to be really worried about this. You don’t think he’s cheating, do you?”
You quickly shake your head, “No, no! I know him, and I know that he would never do that to me. I think he’s just trying to hide something from me. I’m not mad at him, I just don’t want him to keep anything from me.”
“You’re not mad… yet!” Eunmi corrects, and your lips purse, “If he’s really hiding something from you, it must be pretty big. I would personally be surprised if you were able to keep your temper if you found out whatever it is he’s hiding. Cheating or not.”
You’ve never really been one to get extremely mad or even start arguments. As said before, you and Chan did have petty arguments back in high school, but since then, you’ve both matured. Chan always shut down a fight if you were getting too agitated, and you were usually never the first one to start up an argument, since your patience isn’t as thin as before. You will admit, though, you’d be decently upset if you found out Chan really was hiding something from you. You trust him so much, you thought there should’ve been nothing to hide.
“I suppose you’re right,” you lean your head against your hand, resting your elbow on the desk, “If there’s a good chance, I’ll talk to him about it tonight. If I want things to really work out with him, then there has to be complete trust and honesty with each other.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eunmi proudly says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with him, unnie,” you admit shamelessly, and Eunmi smiles wistfully, “I want to grow old with him. But I don’t want to live waking up every day at four in the morning and coming home to no one for hours on end. And, sometimes he won't come till midnight or morning.”
“Well, my husband and I used to have a lot of secrets, too. That we kept from each other,” Eunmi admits, reassuring you that you’re not the only one going through something like this, “The only way we were able to sort things through was by sitting down and talking to each other. Just telling all of our secrets to each other, even if they’re embarrassing or stupid. Just knowing the fact that we can trust each other with everything gives us that reassurance that we’re meant to be. Honesty is everything.”
You look down, thinking about the advice Eunmi had just given you, and you swallow down the growing lump of frustration in your throat, “Thank you for the advice, unnie. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course. I’m always free to talk, and you have my number if anything happens,” Eunmi smiles fondly, “And my doors are always open to you. I’ve spoken to my husband about you and he said that he’s always willing to keep our doors open. Just in case anything happens. You can’t be too careful, right?”
“Right,” you smile, flustered by Eunmi’s kindness, “Thank you so much. I’m… you’re right. If the worst of the worst happens and I’m booted out of my own apartment, then I’m at least glad to know that there’s some place I can go to that’s not three cities over.”
Eunmi laughs softly, and you laugh along with her, “I’m glad. Anyways, it’s about that time. I’m going to start heading back to my classroom. Let Chan know that I said hello, and that I wish you both well. Good luck, (Y/N).”
“Thanks, unnie. I’ll call you later,” you wave briefly as Eunmi makes her way out of the library, students bowing briefly to her as she passes.
You’re glad to have a friend like Eunmi. You’re lucky to have someone open their doors to you. Sometimes, you wonder if Eunmi views you as a younger sister, since she constantly rambles on and on about how she loves being called unnie or noona by her younger coworkers, even if she’s among the younger teachers. She’s like the sister you’ve never had. Sure, things had to be professional, but you’d like to spend more time with her out of the workplace. That would be fun.
The rest of the day is pretty slow. You had a few classes come in to pick up literature books, math books and to check out some books, but that was really it. You didn’t see Eunmi again, and left a few hours after the school closed. There was a bit of traffic on the way home, but it was mostly cleared up.
When you got home, you weren’t surprised to be met with an empty house. No sign of Chan, except the lunch you made him was gone, meaning he took it with him, thankfully, and he left a cute little note on a sticky note saying his thanks to you for making it for him. Which he usually did for you (you never bothered to throw them away. You actually kept them all in a little cigar box for safekeeping. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like it.)
Like every day when you come home, you change into a pair of more comfortable clothing, which was just one of Chan’s hoodies you took out of his side of the closet, and a pair of ripped jeans. Since Chan didn’t do the dishes before he left, like you thought he would, you decided to do them to pass the time. In doing so, you turned on the TV for some background noise as you rolled up your sleeves to start scrubbing the dishes.
However, your attention was soon caught by the TV when the regular news anchor started talking about crime. At first, it was just about a robbery that took place in uptown, and that didn’t really suit your interest. What did catch your attention, enough to turn off the faucet and ignore the dishes to watch the TV, was when an all - too familiar black car with tinted windows and no license plate appeared on the screen, and there was a red car, too, but you didn’t recognize that one.
You turned up the volume, “Today, police are trying to look for these cars with no license plates caught on camera last night. They were suspected to be illegally street racing and gambling last night at around eleven o’ clock at night before being caught on security footage of a hotel nearby. If you can identify these cars, please contact the police immediately. One has been identified as a black Ferrari SF90 Stradale. The other has yet to be identified. If you see anything suspicious on the streets, please contact authorities. Here’s a clearer picture of both cars.”
And, that’s when it sparked you. One of the pictures of the black Ferrari was of the front. Despite the tinted window, you could clearly see a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the mirror and a familiar hand gripping the wheel tightly. How could you recognize it? Despite the low quality, you can see a familiar ring on the middle finger. A celtic design Chan loved so much.
“Oh… my fucking god,” your mouth drops open as realization hits, and you immediately dash to the bedroom to yank open Chan’s dresser drawer, one left vacant for paperwork to “keep things safe”, and you pull out his insurance for his car. And, there it is, in plain sight. Ferrari SF90 Stradale. Color; black. Windows; tinted. At first, shock pools through you. Doubt climbing up. There’s no way Chan’s a criminal. There’s no way that he’s the one in the Ferrari. It has to be someone else.
But, there was only one way to find out. You had to be sure it was him.
So, you grabbed your purse and your keys and threw on a pair of slip - on vans. The sun was already setting, and you nearly forgot to lock up before running to your car. Barely unlocking it before you throw yourself into it, not even bothering to buckle your seatbelt before driving off to god knows where. Your gut leading you, immediately driving towards the area shown on the news. You pull out your phone, trusting the wheel in one hand as you pull up Chan’s profile and call him, pressing the phone to your ear.
The ringing carries on and on until the familiar voice of Chan speaks up, telling you that he’s not available and to leave a message after the beep.
“Oh, fuck off!” You scream at your phone before trying to call him again. Again and again it led to voicemail. Voicemail after voicemail. You couldn’t text him, not with you driving.
After the tenth call, you let out a frustrated yell, hitting your wheel with your palm and trying your best not to cry. You might be overreacting, since there’s a large chance that it isn’t Chan. But, for some reason, you believed it. You believed, at least somewhat, that it was Chan’s car. That it was Chan in the car. You didn’t want to believe it, but you did.
And your questions coursing through your mind were soon answered when you pulled up to the spot from the news, it now twilight, the sun just being set over the city’s horizon. You pulled onto an empty freeway, and parked in an alley between two buildings. There’s a group of people and a ton of expensive cars around the freeway. There were people crowded around a table. Some girls sat on top of cars, talking and laughing to each other while wearing vulgar and revealing clothes. Your brows furrow, deciding to stay low for a while. You turn off the engine to your car and watch carefully, gripping your phone in your hand. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, popping beer bottles, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
But, it’s when the sound of a loud engine came into earshot, and everyone, including you, turned to see the source of the sound. The moment the crowd of people see who it is, they start to cheer loudly. Throwing up their hands. However, your mouth falls open once more as the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale with tinted windows and a black ice Little Tree air freshener hanging from the rear - view mirror. It pulls up to the crowd, and they all part to make way for it.
Instead of shock or sadness, anger and rage begins to boil inside of you, and you grip your steering wheel tightly as you watch Chan, Christopher Bang, step out of the car. People pat his shoulder, and he smiles widely at them. Giving a few people hugs and even smiling to some of the women, who tried to steal a hug from him, too. He’s wearing clothes you don’t ever remember seeing. He wears a black leather jacket over a white button up and black skinny jeans. You’d be impressed by how good he looks if you weren’t so upset.
You didn’t even have to look at your phone as you pulled up Chan’s profile and called him, pressing the phone roughly to your ear.
“Pick up… Pick the fuck up,” you grumble under your breath as you watch Chan. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it briefly.
Not even hesitating to hang up.
As you heard the familiar sound of Chan’s sweet voice telling you he’s not available at the moment and to leave a message after the beep, you finally have enough courage to get out of your car. Slamming the door shut and making your way out of the alley. They’re not too far, but it's a long enough walk for you to catch the eye of some people. You don’t even pause to rethink your decisions when a girl taps the chest of one of the guys, who glares at you with a raised brow.
The man that glared at you stepped away from the crowd, and you could barely see Chan over the people. He walks over to you, and you stop when the man is right in front of you, peering down you. The smell of cheap beer oozing off of him.
“And who the fuck are you?”
“Chan’s girlfriend, now get the fuck out of my way,” you try to push past him, but he grabs you by the arm. Tightly, too. Probably tight enough to leave a bruise after a while. “Hey! Let go of me.”
“No can do, princess,” the man says, smirking mercilessly down at you, his grip not loosening one bit, “Whether or not you’re Chan’s bitch doesn’t matter to me. It’s either you leave or I take you home and we have a good time. Well, I will, at least.” So, you tried to yank your arm from his, trying your best not to use your free hand to punch him in the face.
“Where’s Chan? Bring him to me.” You demand, and the man scoffs, chuckling.
“Fine, have it your way,” the man turns his head towards the crowd, a few people watch, and he says, “Grab Chan. This chick says she’s his girlfriend.” A few of them laugh at him, thinking it’s a joke. But, you stand your ground, glaring through the crowd. One of the people that laughed pushed through a few people. It takes a minute, and there’s a tense silence between you and the man as you try to pry his hand off.
But, as you suspected, a smiling Chan pushes through, but his smile instantly drops when he sees you.
“Hey, Chan. This chick’s babbling on about being your girl. Should I kick-”
“Get your hands off her right now before I shoot you in the face.” Chan interrupts, anger lacing his dark, deep voice. The man holding your arm instantly lets go and steps away, his hands rising in defense. Mumbling something about just ‘trying to keep things safe’. Once the man is away, Chan walks up to you, now being the one tightly gripping your arms. Leaning down so his face is close to yours.
“Why are you here, (Y/N)? Why the hell are you here?” He asks harshly, his voice full of surprise and desperation. He even shakes you slightly.
“You seriously thought I wouldn’t find out?” You snap, ignoring his question all together, “You thought I was dumb enough to let this go under? Well, I’ve been dumb for too long, Christopher. I’m not going to be like that anymore.” You know he’s not too big a fan of being called by his real name, but you do it anyway.
“Go home (Y/N). I’ll explain everything to you afterwards.” Chan says, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn you away.
“No!” You yell, pushing his arms off you, “I am not going home, Chan! I am staying with you. I need to know what the hell all of this is. Right. Now.” You demand, and Chan shakes his head.
“No. You’re going home, (Y/N),” Chan tries to push you away again, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly and trying to turn you from the curious crowd. However, you weren’t going to be let off so easily. You swiftly turned around, letting your flying hand come in contact with Chan’s cheek. Smacking him. You made sure not to backhand him, knowing how much that could hurt. Besides, you don’t want to hurt him too much, you just want to get your point across, and he wasn’t listening to your words. He lets go of you again, his head flinging to the side because of the impact.
“I said no. I’m staying here,” You repeat yourself, and Chan’s eyes no longer lace with aggression, but worry. He doesn’t seem upset that you hit him. In fact, he seems to gloss over it. “I need to know what’s going on-”
You weren’t able to finish your sentence until Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into the crowd. They part to make way for him, and you aren’t able to muster out a sentence before Chan unlocked his car and shoves you forcefully into the passenger seat.
“Chan, what -”
“Shut up, buckle up and hold on tight ‘cause it’s gonna be one hell of a night for us, darling,” Chan snaps, and your lips clamp close at his harsh words. You didn’t expect that out of him. You could nearly cry right there. Chan backs away and slams the door shut, and you quickly scramble to put the seatbelt on as Chan yells something at the crowd, and they erupt in cheers. A few people scramble to get into different cars, and the rest stay back, keeping their distance. However, Chan didn’t seem too pleased as he walked around the car and into the passenger’s seat, locking the doors.
“Chan…”
“Quiet,” Chan snaps, revving the engine of the car. You can faintly hear the cheer of the onlookers behind as Chan pulls alongside the other three cars. A young woman wearing small shorts and an exposed shirt too small for fall walks ahead, and pulls a red cloth out of her back pocket. Her red lips smile bright as she lifts her red cloth. She holds up one finger, and Chan’s engine growls from behind, the car shaking along with it. Your hands go to grip the first thing, which is the cup holder in the center console and the door. Bracing yourself for what’s about to happen.
“Chan!”
“I said quiet!” Chan yells, sparing you a glance and your brows creased with worry as the woman holds up a second finger, and Chan’s hand grips the wheel as the other rests over the buttons.
She doesn’t hold up a third finger. Instead, she throws down the red cloth, and the moment she does so, Chan is off on the road. His foot slammed against the gas as he pushed his back against the seat and used one hand to effortlessly steer. You feel so impossibly scared in the car. A small part of you was debating whether or not you should have gone home, but you knew that it was the right decision to stay. To truly understand what’s been going on and what this is all about.
You try your best not to scream as the loud engine nearly bursts your eardrums.
“Chan… Chan, stop the car!” You scream, the need to vomit creeping up, even though you try to gulp it down.
“I can’t, (Y/N). I really can’t right now.” He says loudly over the engine.
“Please, Chan, just stop the car…!” You yell out again, and Chan finally glances at you, seeing your distressed look before his head snaps ahead again.
His hand swiftly reaches over to grip your thigh, as if trying to prove that you’re secure, “Calm down, (Y/N). You’ll be fine. We’re fine. I’m not stopping the car. Sorry, but I just can’t.”
“I should hate you for this, Chan!” You say, and you can see the way his knuckles turn white from gripping the wheel. “But I can’t… I just… Goddamn it, why!?”
“I can’t tell you that right now!” He yells back, looking over briefly before making a sharp turn, making you clutch onto the seat belt for protection, his hand now back over the buttons, “You just need to sit there until this is over, got it? I don’t care how scared you are, you’re gonna get through it like the strong woman you are, (Y/N), and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
You look over to Chan, and his lips are downturned, his brows furrowed and his eyes glossed over, as if he could cry right there.
“But why didn’t you just tell me?! We wouldn’t be like this right now if you just told me, Chan, and that’s the truth.” You yell over the engine, and Chan bitterly and breathily chuckles, shaking his head as an angry smile casts over his lips.
“You wouldn’t have stayed with me if I told you, (Y/N), you know that.” His voice is a little softer. If any softer, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You would’ve left me.”
Your mouth falls open, and you shake your head, “Never… Never! Never, ever, accuse me of that. I would never leave you even if you killed a man, Chan, and that’s the truth!” He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns another sharp corner, and you can see the other cars following behind, closing in. He sees it, too, and he presses some buttons you didn’t bother reading and slams his foot on the gas again. You let out a deep breath, still clutching the seat belt, “I just want to know why, Chan. Why are you resulting to this even though you have a stable job at the entertainment company, I-... I just want you to be honest with me.”
“I’ll tell you later, (Y/N). Just sit tight and keep your mouth shut. I need to focus or we’ll fucking crash, you got it!” He yells, and you flinch at his harsh tone. Finally keeping quiet.
The race seems like it lasts forever, when it was probably only five minutes. With sharp twists and turns and screeching of the engine in wheels, it feels like torture. You hate this, but there’s no backing out yet.
Chan doesn’t utter a word. Only cursing at the other cars when they do something that they weren’t supposed to do, or somehow start catching up to him. You let a few tears slip as you watch his hands and Chan as he focuses solely on the road. The lump in your throat is growing bigger and bigger, and swallowing it down seems to get more and more difficult.
But, it’s over at some point. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Chan finally slowed down after reaching a pathetic excuse of a finish line. Your trembling hands grip the hem of the hoodie you were wearing as Chan comes to a steady stop. People come cheering as the other three cars pull up behind, being careful not to bump into anyone from the crowd. You breath heavily, and look over to Chan, who rolls down his window, plastering a triumphant smile on his lips.
“I don’t even get why I race against you, mate. You always win. Just take the money and get outta here,” says one of the racers playfully, tossing Chan a briefcase through the window.
“Thanks man. Good race,” Chan says, “Now, I have business to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.”
He rolls up the window, and the man who handed Chan the briefcase smacks the window playfully as Chan rushes off, his smile instantly vanishing as he goes through backgrounds to try and get to a main road without drawing too much attention. Chan’s smile drops, and he hands you the briefcase.
“You want to know so badly? Open it and be careful. It’ll be hell to clean up if you drop it,” Chan grumbles, looking over as you look to him for reassurance. He only gives you a cocked brow as you look back to the case in your lap before unlocking it and opening it. Your jaw falls as you look at the thousands of bills stacked on top of each other, rubber bands holding equal stacks together, and you gawk at just how much money Chan won from one race.
After a minute of you staring at the money, Chan slams the case closed in your lap, locking it with one hand and tossing it in the backseat making you jump at how hasty he is.
You both sit there, Chan driving to god knows where in tense silence. You're holding your head in your hands as Chan shifted his gaze between you and the road.
It’s about fifteen minutes until you look up, surprised that he’s still driving and nowhere near home. It’s an emptier city, but Chan seems to know the area well.
“Chan, where are we?” You ask, but Chan gives no answer. Only driving a bit further before pulling into an alley between two old buildings. “Chan, I said -”
You were quickly by Chan yanking off his seatbelt and leaning over the center console to firmly grab your face and pull you into a rough kiss. It isn’t too rushed, but it’s not at all gentle. You’re caught by surprise at first, but couldn’t help melting into it. It’s almost instinct at this point to kiss him back, but you push him away after a moment. “What… What the fuck are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Chan answers briefly before grabbing locks of your hair at the back of your head and pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let it slam against the car as it flies off you.
“No, Chan… We need to talk,” You grumble out as you try to pull away, and he presses wet, sloppy kisses to the side of your mouth. His eyes are fluttered shut, and your’s are half lidded. You will admit, you love this. The kisses and how unnaturally aggressive Chan is being. But, you knew that you have to talk things out, or you’d never get to figure out how the hell things turned out like this, “Chan, I’m serious right now.”
“Then relax, baby,” Chan breathily whispers out, and your thighs squeeze together, “Let me make things up to you, okay? I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” He pulls away for a moment, and he stares at you with a teasing smirk, “Think of it as my apology, alright?”
“Chan, I’m… I’m - ah! Chan!” You gasp when Chan’s lips come in contact with the side of your neck. Your neck is already tilting to give him more room, despite trying pathetically to push him away. There’s no getting through to him anymore. You’ve passed the point of no return, and there’s not much you could get past him without slapping him again. And that didn’t seem like a very good idea to you. Your hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the other loosely clutching the hem of his button up.
“You know that… ah… that we are going to talk about this at some point…” you groan out, and Chan only groans against your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “You can’t get out of it like this…”
“Shut it, (Y/N),” Chan snaps, and your head falls back. Chan leans his seat back, aggressively grabbing you by the thighs to pull you over and sit on top of him. Straddling his waist despite it being such a tight environment. He pulls you down by the hoodie, into another kiss. You could feel how frustrated Chan is by the way he grips you tightly, as if you’re going to magically vanish, and by how he talks to you.
It’s rushed, too. Chan is impossibly quick to pull up your hoodie, his hot, sweaty hands creeping up your warm back, caressing it with a different, quick sense of gentleness. His lips connect with yours once again. His tongue already pressing against your lips. The quick, sloppy kiss all too lust filled. The erotic sounds coming from the both of you almost making you gloss over the fact that you should still be very mad at Chan. But, you just can’t find the need to pull away from him. You need to let off the steam, too.
You flush your body firm against him, one hand on his chest and the other by his head, holding onto the head of the seat for support. Breathing as slowly as you can through your nose to savor the air Chan so selfishly takes from you from the heated kiss. Your thoughts begin to vanish and your worry and concern for Chan’s life choices begin to falter for the time being. So immersed in the heated kiss to forget about it entirely. All your focus is now on Chan. You can tell how stressed he is, and the loving part of you wants to help him let off that steam. But, now, you’re in the same boat. So, he’s going to have to do so much for you as you’ve been doing for him.
Chan’s hands don’t bother to hesitate before they loop underneath your jeans, not caring to unbutton them as he tries his best to pull them off by himself. Because of how restricted you both are because of the size of the car, you had to do it yourself. You parted from the kiss and pressed your head against his shoulder to unbutton your jeans and pull them down as quickly as you could before throwing them in the back (along with your shoes and socks. You can already see how hard Chan’s gotten as his rough hands massage and knead your ass, only covered by the thin, black cloth keeping you at least somewhat covered. But, if this was like any other time, they’d be gone quicker than you’d imagine.
Your hands fly up again once your pants are thrown to the back, resting on either side of Chan’s head as he grips your hips, grinding your womanhood against his clothed hardon (you’re also clothed, but it’s so wet from your juices that it basically attaches itself to your skin). His head throws itself back, his eyes closing and a pleasure filled smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You press yourself against him, now propped up to be looming over him, sitting on him.
When you do press against him, his head snaps forward again, and his dark eyes glare up at you, “Don’t start getting proud, (Y/N). I’m gonna fucking break you.” His hand crawls up to grip your face in his hand. One of your hands weakly comes up to grip his wrist. His hand moving down to grip your throat, and your lips part blissfully as his fingers press into the sides of your neck, still allowing airflow through you. “Oh, fuck. You like being choked, huh? You like being choked like a slut don’t you?” You don’t answer, too nervous to and too caught up in the pleasure to actually let something other than a moan escape your lips.
“Talk to me, (Y/N). Use your fucking words,” Chan growls, and you swallow. The lump in your throat pressing painfully, yet blissfully against Chan’s hand.
“Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me…” You utter out his name, and Chan’s brow raises. But, he smirks nonetheless and lets go of your neck, and you let out a breath as he undoes his jeans and pulls them down to his feet. His hand palming his clothed cock briefly before pulling it out. His hard dick already leaking with precum.
“Condom…” You mutter, and Chan shakes his head. You look up to him with worry.
“Trust me, baby,” he mutters, and you sigh, leaning against him, pressing your body against his as Chan moves your panties out of the way before he aligns your throbbing cunt with his dick, and slowly pushing himself into you, raw. As his raw cock slowly becomes engulfed by your heat, Chan lets out low groans. Your face nuzzles into the side of his neck as Chan slowly guides you down until you’re sitting on his cock.
At first, he stays there like that. Not moving. You suspect it’s because the sane part of him wants you to get used to the feeling of his cock so deep in you without a condom, but Chan seems to keep you there for a few moments just for the sake of how good it feels without a condom. The way his head is leaned back, his lips slightly ajar and his eyes fluttered shut.
But, it doesn’t last long before Chan’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you up and starts ramming into you. His hips move so quickly, yet so efficiently as he burns your wet walls. You erupt in a series of loud moans, mixtures of Chan’s name and curses spilling out, too. Chan groans sometimes, right next to your ear. The sound of skin slapping against the fabric of Chan’s boxers echoing through the air tight car.
Your pussy burns from how fast Chan thrusts into you, keeping you at a steady position so he could have an easier time ramming himself into you without the difficulty of it being such a confined and restrictive place in the car (especially in the driver’s seat). The burn is so good for you, though. It’s such a numbing, euphoric feeling that you’ll crave later. A type of burn you could never provide yourself, only Chan.
Chan’s hands go from gripping your body to sliding up your side to gripping your hair and yanking your head back so he could look at you. A judgemental, sexy smirk adorning his lips as he sees how fucked out you are. Your mouth open as you moan, and your half lidded eyes occasionally closing from the bliss.
“Fucking hell… you’re so good for me, (Y/N). You take my cock so fucking well, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan as Chan’s hand grips harder on your hair, craning your neck. “Mmm… Baby girl can’t even talk to me… I know I said to shut it…” he laughs darkly through his moans, and your moans get louder when Chan lets go of your hair, letting your face fall back onto his shoulder as his hands grip your ass. Kneading them as he fucks himself into you. You clench helplessly around his cock.
“Oh… fuck, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you? You wanna cum around my cock, baby girl?” You nod frantically, your climax climbing up as you push your body back to meet with Chan’s aggressive thrusts. Your overstimulated cunt only being destroyed by Chan’s cock as he thrusts harder into you, his hips staggering slightly as you clench around him. “Mmm! - Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Chan growls out as his hand grips your face again, forcing your head up as your eyes roll into the back of your head, a loud string of moans escaping your lips as you cum all over Chan’s cock, and he pulls out just quick enough to spurt out a string of cum along your ass.
He lets go of your face, and you breath heavily as you rest your head on Chan’s chest, closing your eyes to catch your breath. A burning sensation still resting in your core as you relax, your womanhood’s muscles contracting every now and then from the orgasm.
Chan cleans you both up with a napkin he had in the center console and helped you put your jeans back on (deciding to toss your soiled panties) and he slipped his jeans back on silently. It’s not until you’re sitting on his lap, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat when he speaks.
“You know I love you so much, right?” Chan mumbles out, and you look up to him. “I was so mean to you today… when you must’ve been so confused.” His head falls back, and he looks out the window with a longing look in his eyes, “I’m the worst boyfriend in the world, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not. Don’t even think things like that. Yes, I am still a bit upset, but you know what? We’re going to get past this because I love you, too, Channie.” You stare at him with an adoring expression adorning your sparkling eyes (trying to ignore the burning in your core).
“You… You want to know the real reason I’m a street racer, (Y/N)? Why the fuck I'm doing this?” Chan asks softly, his hand stroking your hair.
“If you could… I’ve been asking all day,” you chuckle softly, and Chan smiles bitterly.
“Well… I… I’m doing this all for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“No job will pay for the things I want to give you, (Y/N).” He turns over, reaching into the center console to pull out a black box, and your eyes widen as he opens it. You can’t see it, but you can barely see the sparkle of a something reflective. “I… I couldn’t pay for this myself. I knew I couldn’t. I hate how this is how I’m asking you… but, (Y/N), will you-”
“Oh my god, yes!”
#bang chan#chan#bang chan stray kids#bangchan x reader#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#chan imagines#bang chan smut#chan smut#chan angst#bang chan angst#smut#angst#kpop#kpop angst#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz bang chan#skz chan#chan scenarios#stray kids bang chan imagine#bang chan x y/n#christopher bang#stray kids imagine#stray kids smut#skz imagine#skz smut#skz angst#kpop scenarios
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forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader
18+
Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.
Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.
word count: 6.2k
a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!
Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.
“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”
“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”
“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”
“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”
She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.
She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.
“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”
“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.
“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.
“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.
“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.
It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.
—
He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”
“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."
She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.
Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…
He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.
He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.
He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”
“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.
She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.
“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”
“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”
—
She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.
“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.
“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.
“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”
He lights up, “you think so?”
She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”
He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.
“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.
“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.
“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”
She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.
He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.
“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.
He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.
She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.
“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.
“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.
She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”
“Alright.”
He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.
He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.
He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.
“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.
She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.
He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.
No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.
She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”
She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.
He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”
“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.
“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.
She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.
He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.
“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.
She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.
Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.
She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”
When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.
—
Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.
“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.
“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”
“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”
He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”
“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.
He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.
“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.
“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”
“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”
He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.
—
She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.
He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.
“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.
“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.
“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.
She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.
“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”
“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.
“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.
He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”
She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”
“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.
She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”
He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.
“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”
It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”
He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”
“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.
—
The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.
They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.
She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.
Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.
He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.
He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.
“Don’t you want dessert?”
“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.
“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.
She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”
“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.
Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.
He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.
“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.
“I’m just impatient.”
“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”
“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.
Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”
She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.
Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.
He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.
He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.
She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.
They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.
She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.
She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.
Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.
The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.
She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.
She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.
“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.
“Make me yours, Chip.”
“I think you always have been,” he replied.
His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.
“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.
“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.
She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.
He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.
She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.
She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.
He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.
Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.
She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.
He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.
Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.
He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.
With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.
“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.
“Can we try something?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.
“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.
She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.
Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.
“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.
He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.
She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.
Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.
He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.
“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.
“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.
She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.
“Ready?” He whispered.
She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.
She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.
Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.
Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.
“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.
“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.
The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.
The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.
“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.
His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.
She was in heaven.
Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.
She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.
She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.
Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.
A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.
She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.
Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” she replied with a smile.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”
“Better than you hoped?”
“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”
He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.
“Let me clean us up,” he said.
At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.
Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.
“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.
Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.
Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”
He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”
He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”
The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.
“Forever it is, then.”
taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13
#chip taylor#chip taylor fanfic#chip taylor x reader#chip taylor x you#chip taylor self insert#matthew gray gubler fanfiction#mgg fanfiction#mgg fanfic#mgg x reader#mgg x y/n#68 kill#68 kill fanfic#68 kill fanfiction#68 kill smut#chip taylor smut#matthew gray gubler fanfic#mgg smut
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Under The Magnolia (4/8)
(gif: @wodohwan) (PART THREE) (PART FIVE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)
Summary: Y/N tries to put what happened with JJ behind her when she returns to school, but when her patience is tested by a series of unfortunate events, she snaps. JJ, trying to figure out what’s wrong with her, is blindsided by an issue of his own.
Word Count: 8.7k
Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, drug use, panic attacks, implied parent/child abuse, mental illness, suicidal ideation without graphic depictions, and fluff.
A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! This chapter gets pretty heavy at times on the angst, as you probably anticipated from the end of chapter three, so bring some tissues and get ready for a bumpy ride ‘cause these characters aren’t having a great day. Things will work out eventually for them though, pinky promise! Let me know if you enjoyed this. Feedback is very much appreciated. Have fun!
Y/N has never liked gym class.
Fifty or so people crammed into an un-airconditioned, smelly gymnasium so they can half-heartedly do sports and play games that'll make them sweaty by the time they return to their classrooms? That's her version of hell right there if she's ever seen it, and very few things could make it worse than it already is, but she's betting she has something this time.
From across the field out back behind Kildare County High, she sits on the grass with Kie and watches JJ playing basketball on the tarmac court with a group of random boys and Pope. It's the first time in weeks that she has gotten any alone time with Kie, her first time seeing her at all since she ditched on their plans, and all she can think of is him.
After they got themselves fully clothed again after their dirty tryst in the back of the van, they finished the double feature together—this time quite enthralled in the second movie—and went back to the Chateau as per usual. He ended up finding his wallet crammed in the crevasse between the front seat and center console, and she gave him a lackadaisical thumbs up when he held it up for her to see with one of his award-winning, toothy grins.
Things haven't felt the same since that non-date they went on. He has yet to notice her change in mood since she's done everything possible to prevent anyone, especially him, from noticing it, but it's there. The rejection plays on repeat in the back of her mind every waking moment, as if her subconscious wants to rub it in for her.
Kiara, mid-rant, catches her attention with the tail-end of her sentence though.
"...that was totally bitchy though. She has nerve saying that shit to you knowing damn well what you're going through."
In any other conversation, she likely would have to admit to not fully listening and ask for context, but the topic is clear to her.
Temporarily, her eyes wander away from the boy she's not dating to the "bitch" in question. Kacey Adams. Smoking hot, intelligent, and popular, but severely lacking in basic human empathy, she's probably up there in the top ten of Y/N's most hated people on earth. Not anywhere above Ward or Rafe Cameron, but damn high for multiple reasons, one of which being that her and JJ fucked last year.
In her defense, this territorial jealousy is not the only reason she hates her. Facts are, she's a loud-mouthed kook wannabe that thinks she knows everything about everyone, and despite her book smarts, she's wrong about her assumptions ninety percent of the time. This side of her wasn't visible to JJ when they first connected at a party, but it's more than evident in the aftermath of John B's disappearance.
A much nicer girl was asking her how she was doing with the obvious fact of no longer having her brother around when Kacey decided she couldn't listen any longer without setting the record straight.
As soon as she saw her turn the corner from around the side of their locker section, she sighed and muttered, "Here we go," shrugging the friendly girl's arm off to finish changing.
"Y'all are seriously still hung up on that cop killer?" she scoffed, laughing in a condescending way that made the rest of the girls in their section want to leap over the bench to throttle her. "My daddy's a deputy, and he says there's no doubt he's the one who shot Peterkin. Brother or not, there's no way you can defend that, right?"
At first, she decided to go with the tried and true method of pretending Kacey didn't exist. It worked once or twice before, making her laugh to herself and her group of friends before scurrying off to do whatever else it is the spawn of Satan likes to do in her spare time. She hoped it would continue to be effective.
Until Kiara stepped in.
"Yeah, and it's no surprise to me considering you're a bourgeoisie bootlicker that'll believe any rumor you hear as long as it aligns with your precious beliefs. You know, riding so hard for the kooks won't make you one, so do yourself a favor and leave her alone. All the evidence on John B was circumstantial."
The girls around them reacted with various sounds of surprise, some encouraging and others siding with Kacey, while Y/N stood with her eyes glued to the inside of her locker. She stared at where John B's bandana was folded up on top of her street clothes and tried to keep herself calm. He always told her that people like that aren't worth it, and when she saw his old bandana lying there, it was like he was trying to talk to her from beyond what separated them.
She was pulling her tank top over her head when the next comment made its calculated blow. The bully ignored Kiara entirely, stepping closer to where she stood in front of her locker.
"What? Not so tough without your little boyfriend here, are you?"
That was it.
The sound of her locker slamming shut echoed into the high ceilings of the room, her unshut combination lock rattling against the rusted metal as she turned to face the other girl. She got so close to her, they could've touched.
"Do not bring JJ into this," she spat the words like poison in her mouth, "and, for the record, he isn't my boyfriend. Maybe you should get your facts straight before attacking me."
"I do have my facts straight about one thing though, your brother is—sorry, was"—Kie and Y/N couldn't help but tense up at that intentional "mistake" in word choice that sucker punched them—"a murderer. We all know it."
No matter how strained or distant their friendship became over the course of the last month, it was clear from Kiara's perspective that her friend was one more comment away from letting this verbal altercation shift into a physical one. Her forehead creased with a sour, hard-set expression she'd seen her give many people, most of which being those who think seeing her in public is free reign to make all the comments they want about her "murderous" brother.
Without the gym teacher there to stop it, the rest of the nearby girls gathered to watch the fight unfold in real time, and she couldn't necessarily blame them. There are countless fights a week in this place, and it's nearly a form of entertainment at this point. One time, she and JJ watched a girl shove another girl into a window by their hair and break it after the latter called her a bitch, so, yeah, Kildare had its fair share of fights, and the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown was in the works for weeks.
She pointed to the door and said, "Why don't you turn around, go to Figure Eight, and go back to begging some poor kook to fuck you, cause nobody wants you here, Kacey."
With that, while the small crowd reacted in laughs or gasps, she decided it was over. There was no point in drawing it out longer than this, and the gym coach would be back any second to usher them all into the gymnasium anyway.
Her steps echoed through the narrow, but big room, and she almost made it to the door when Kacey struck one final, killing blow.
"But I didn't have to beg JJ to fuck me, did I?"
That was enough to set Y/N after her like someone lit a fire under her ass, and Kie knew it as soon as the words were said. Messing with her was fine, but saying something about JJ? The girl might as well have signed her own death warrant.
She lunged at her, hopping over the bench and shoving her up against the various lockers hard enough to make hers rattle on its hinges again, when she felt a pair of hands tugging her off as soon as she did it.
Kie's voice met her ears as she dragged her off to the door to the gym, "Trust me, getting suspended over that bitch is not worth it."
It almost makes her laugh to herself now that she thinks of it.
She was one of JJ's famous worst lays in the history of his extensive sexual background, so her bragging attitude about having gotten with him, while infuriating in the heat of the moment, was ironic. The memory of overhearing that particular conversation in the van with him, Pope, and John B is clear in her mind.
Y/N digs at the dirt with the side of her shoe, still decorated with the surfboard sticker JJ put on it during lunch the other day, and she shakes her head.
"She's just trying to get under my skin. You were right, it wasn't worth it." Then, she tilts her head to the side as though in consideration. "Although, I'd love to see the look on her face if I'd've told her how fuckin' terrible she was in bed according to JJ."
The comment makes her friend tip her head back in a laugh that's been scarce ever since she started ignoring her in favor of spending her free time with her boyfriend. She wishes things didn't have to be this way, wishes she didn't have to feel the cold betrayal of Kie's neglect so often, but stuffs it down deep inside of her for now. At least she has these few moments with her. She's lucky she's not playing basketball because Pope's doing it—although whether the non-athletic boy is succeeding at it remains debatable.
Her eyes have since moved back to watching JJ across the field following her brief glance at where Kacey runs on the track. He's wearing the same old gym shirt he always does, but, for some reason, he looks particularly perfect in it today. Maybe it's the grown-out hair that he sweeps out of his face or the sweat shining on his muscular arms as he throws a shot, but she almost forgets about what happened as she stares.
Kie, once again, says something that distracts her, This time, she nearly breaks her neck in the effort to turn her head to look at her in response.
"Speak of the devil...did you hear about his new girl?"
Her heart dropped. Did they figure it out? Do they know about them hooking up? Did JJ tell them?
"What?" she asked, then shook her heard, "JJ doesn't have a 'girl', he doesn't date, like ever."
Considering how the night at the Cherry Bowl went, she knows firsthand. Yet even before her, he didn't like it. It isn't anything that has to do with her, or any of the other girls he's been with for that matter, it's something to do with him. Whatever it is, there's something he doesn't like about dating and relationships that has prevented him from seeking them out his whole life, and that isn't about to change.
Kie spares a glance at him on the basketball court, then scoots closer through the grass and into the small patch of dirt Y/N allows to stain her shorts for the time being.
"That's what I said too, but apparently he does now. He told Pope and I that her name is Steph, and you'd think the sun shines out of her ass with the way he talked about her. Like, no lie, he's actually simping for her. Can you believe it?"
Just like that, the hot-headed fury of the jealousy she felt in the locker room over his past fling with Satan incarnate comes back in full force. It's actually more intense than that though. This news hurts more due to the pain of him rejecting her not even three full days ago.
Liar.
The word pangs through her to the beat of a swift drum as she looks back at JJ on the basketball court again. He said he stopped seeing other girls after they started having sex, and now Kie's telling her he's dating someone other than her? If there's one thing this boy has, it's some audacity, because she has to hold herself back from marching across the field and giving him a piece of her mind.
Her eyes sting once again with the urge to cry, and she curses herself for letting him have such power over her emotions.
It's not like he's betrothed to her or anything, but has he no shame? Does he not remember what he told her a few weeks ago? Why did he even say he wasn't seeing other girls if it wasn't true? Was it to mess with her head? There's no way. The JJ she knows would never do something to purposely hurt her feelings.
Kie continues, saying, "He said she's new in town. Pope and I were shocked honestly. Since when does he date people?"
According to the liar himself, never, but now she knows it isn't true. He isn't against dating in general, he's against dating her. The truth lies in plain sight, and it's enough to shatter her heart into pieces: she's not good enough. This fear has taken up residence in the darker depths of her mind ever since they began their affair, but to find out it's true? For the second time this week, she must force herself not to cry in front of someone, and both times were caused by JJ not wanting her.
Y/N puts on a smile similar to the one she forced for the duration of the car ride home and shrugs, indifferent.
"Since now, I guess. Good for him. He deserves some happiness after all this shit we've been through, don't you think?"
JJ doesn't know why, but Y/N is pissed. Like super pissed. Like "won't say anything in response to what he or their friends say outside of super vague hums in agreement" pissed, and he cannot figure it out to save his life.
She was in great spirits this morning on their drive to school, or so he thought. She still stuck one of her stickers on his backpack like she always does, and she responded to everything he said in full sentences without staring blankly ahead and humming yes or no the way she currently does.
What happened in between this morning and now that made her mood shift to this non-verbal, buzzing rage? 'Cause if anyone said or did something rude to her, he'll lose his shit. It's been a dutiful effort for any of them to keep themselves from spiraling after their friends' deaths, himself included, but John B was her brother. It runs deeper for her in a way none of them, all without siblings, can understand, and he'll curse out anyone who threatens to ruin her stability right now.
The chatter of everyone flooding out of the school and into the parking lot fills the air around them on their way to the Twinkie. Deciding to hang out with her and JJ, a rarity in recent days, Pope and Kie opted for hitching a ride with them back to the Chateau to hang out for the night. If he weren't busy worrying about what happened to her, he'd take a second to be happy about it.
"I'm pretty sure I bombed that test, though," Kie says from behind where he and Y/N walk a step or two ahead to reach the parked van, "It was way harder than the practice questions let on, and she totally had stuff on there that wasn't in our lessons. It's such bullshit."
His eyes are cast sideways to get a good view of his favorite girl's faraway, scowling expression.
Seeing her this way physically hurts. Between the countless times she cried in his arms over John B, what happened when Kie blew her off at lunch, and now, he's seen her upset more times than he'd like to, and it never gets easier for him to cope with.
He recognizes that he holds some power over her emotions and always tries to use it help her, not hurt her, but right now there isn't much he can do in the presence of their friends due to her own secrecy rule. No matter how badly he wants to, he can't act in public the way they do alone, and it makes his heart ache.
The weight of her backpack strap, heavy with the thick textbooks and binders inside of her brother's old bag, on her shoulder is relieved as soon as she comes to a stop at the driver's side door to the Twinkie. It makes her brows furrow instantly, and she turns around in each direction to find out who snatched her bag up before her eyes settle on the very last person she wants to see right now.
JJ smiles down at her, his one crooked canine tooth poking out around his pink lips that look so kissable, she could—Wait, for fuck's sake, she's supposed to be mad, not wanting to kiss him!
Two backpacks now sit on his shoulders, his on the left and hers on the right. If it's too heavy for him, he doesn't let it show. Fuck him and his infuriating talent of knowing exactly when she needs him to be sweet, chivalrous JJ instead of the typical loud, joking, chaotic JJ she knows and loves. With Kie and Pope distracted with hopping inside of the van, they don't notice him reach down to squeeze her hand in reassurance, letting her know that whatever it was that was wrong, it would be alright.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
She smiles at him half-heartedly and turns around to get into the driver's seat with her keys swinging around on her forefinger, slamming it shut in a blind rage that her friends don't pick up on.
Who does he think he is?
One second he's using his sixth sense to notice her bad mood and carry her bag for her like a gentlemen, and the next he's running off to date his secret little girlfriend? Steph. What an evil girl. She likely isn't even evil, nor does she know that he's sort-of already spoken for, but for now she lets herself curse both JJ and his secret girlfriend for stabbing her in the back because she's too angry to think logically.
What hurts is that she probably isn't a bad person that she can justify hating.
She's likely sweet, and gorgeous, and not as traumatized and broken as her. She's probably everything Y/N isn't, and it hurts worse than any pain she's felt before. Why should he want her, anyway? All she does is cling to him like a leech and daydream about him loving her back one day.
This Steph girl probably does everything right with him, leaving him wondering and wanting more, not desperately grasping onto him as her life preserver in the sinking ship that is her shitty life. He doesn't deserve that. He has enough of his own shit to handle without her adding onto it.
Her hands grip the steering wheel hard enough to snap the bones in her fingers by the time the rest of her friends are all buckled up and waiting for her to start the car, and Pope's soft voice floats through the air to her ears.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and the other two look up to see her at the sound of his words, "You look like you're gonna be sick."
Is she okay? Emotionally draining question, in her opinion.
What classifies as okay when you've had a day as shitty as she has? First, her not-boyfriend pretty much broke up with her at the Cherry Bowl. Then, her not-boyfriend's old one night stand decided to taunt her in the locker room. And. finally, to put icing on the cake, Kiara so graciously informed her during gym that her not-boyfriend has found himself a brand-spanking-new girlfriend a mere two and half days since they "broke up" on their not-date.
No, she wishes she could say, she is not okay. In fact, she might scream if she turns and sees JJ's cute, worried eyes staring over at her the way they always are when she's like this. Does his girlfriend find them as beautiful as she does? She can't help but wonder more about her whenever she peeks over at him.
It was enough that she became jealous over him and Kacey's past together. She remembers standing there, steaming out of the ears with rage, and staring at her brother's bandana with the memory of his advice ringing through her head. Then, to hear the bad news tripled that jealousy. All she wants to do is go home, shower the gym sweat off of her, and cry under the hot stream of water until it turns freezing.
"I just—" she stammers the words out, about to make something up, when it hits her.
The bandana.
Where the fuck did John B's bandana go? A confirming glance to her wrist and a feel-up of her neck lets her know that it isn't tied onto her, and the first place she looks next is the rear view mirror she tied it to the other night.
No. No. No. This can't be happening. This day cannot possibly get worse.
The rest of her friends watch in confusion as she frantically turns her eyes to scan the van around her, leaning over JJ's lap to rip apart the glove compartment while they all ask her what's wrong. In truth, everything is wrong, but the bandana not being here is the worst thing that could happen. Screw JJ getting a girlfriend that isn't her, this is bad. Train wreck bad, like she's gonna have a panic attack bad, like you're the iceberg lookout of the Titanic bad.
She starts to breathe heavily as she yanks her backpack up from where it sat at JJ's feet and tears through every accessible pocket of it in a frenzy. The front pocket? No sign of it. The mesh side pocket intended for storing her water bottle? Empty. The main pocket? Nothing but books and binders. The last small inside zipper pocket? No bandana in sight.
JJ's voice shouting over the rest of them, including the millions of voices screaming inside of her head at different times and volumes, makes her look away from where she stares blankly inside the backpack and starts to cry.
"Y/N!"
His hand grasping her wrist and tugging it away from the backpack with a strength she never knew to expect from him is what ultimately gets her attention, and while she'd normally never shrink from his touch, she yanks her arm out of his hand immediately.
His eyes zero in on her panicked expression and the pace at which her chest rises and falls. Something is happening and she's not responding. His stomach drops with the helplessness of only being able to watch without getting through to her. He knows panic attacks well enough from his own experiences to see this for what it is.
"I—" she cuts herself off with a gasping inhale, tears starting to bloom around the brims of her eyes, and pulls her knees up onto the seat so she can hug them. "I had—" They all hang off of her trembling voice like it's gospel, and he's two seconds from force-feeding her an anxiety med he bought off of his cousin for himself. "I had a bad day, Kacey cornered me in the locker room, and I wanted to go home and relax, but I lost John B's bandana! I can't find it anywhere, JJ, I can't...I can't find it!"
The feeling of panic constricts her chest with the false mimicking of not being able to breathe enough, and, vulnerable to this trick, her fragile mind falls for it in the midst of her break down. She can't breathe, and John B's bandana is nowhere to be found...
Y/N rips open the driver's side door and lets herself slide down to the pavement onto her feet, hardly thinking straight except for the fact that she wants to stand outside of the car, not inside of it. The interior of it is marked with too many reminders of her brother—from his name carved on the ceiling to the forgotten trash he left that she refuses to pick up no matter how gross it makes her look when she gives people rides.
The outside air of fresh, but it does nothing to solve her issue of needing to breathe. Nothing can, not the sunshine peeking down at her through the filter of the treetops lining the grassy walkway above the curb where the van is parked, not her friends' questions, or the sound of the van doors opening and closing.
It's never going to be over.
She'll continue reliving the agony of losing him until she fades away forever, nothing more than a speck of dust buried deep into the earth, still weeping as a ghost over the boy that drove off into the storm and never returned. The wave of panic will extend until the end of her life. She sees no escape from it in its peak, and she can't even think of anything around her until she feels a pair of strong arms wrapping around her from behind.
Grounded to reality, JJ, Kie, and Pope were flinging themselves out of the van doors the second they saw her step outside and start sobbing. The former two watch in utter shock as JJ throws his arms around her and pulls her out of the path of the passing cars right in time to save her from getting hit.
Back to the safety found between the Twinkie and empty spot next to it, he barks an order at his friends, voice shaken with fear they all share, "In my bag, in the front pocket with the weed, there's a Xanax. Snap it in half and give it to me with your water bottle."
"Why do you have—"
"Just get me the fucking Xanax, Pope! Do you see her right now? She needs help!"
There's no further argument needed for the two of them to burst into action towards the backpack sitting on the ground in front of the van, unzipping and searching it as frantically as she had in search of the bandana.
It's not like it's dangerous or anything. He never takes it unless he's desperate and in the midst of the panic attack. Plus, his cousin is an EMT. It's not like he gives him pills laced with fentanyl, nor does he give him too many at a time. It's real shit. If there were any doubt of its reliability, he sure as hell wouldn't let her have it.
While they're busy tearing apart his backpack, JJ turns back to her with his arms, now loosening up with the knowledge that he'll only make her breathing worse if he holds too tight, still wrapped around her.
"Hey," he says softly, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear as she chokes on her spit and hyperventilates, "I need you to breathe exactly like I do. You feel me breathing, right? Just do that for me. That's all you need to do."
He knew it.
He knew something was wrong the second he saw her again when they met up to go home together, and he should've asked. He should've done something to get ahead of this, but now she's freaking out and there's hardly anything he can do about it. She said something about Kacey too, and he doesn't care if she's a girl, when he sees her after this, they're gonna have it out. Nobody is allowed to make her feel this way. Over his dead body.
The body in his arms trembles with the force of her cries, and he starts to cry too. He can't help how seeing her go through this makes him feel, even if it's obvious at this point to their friends. He doesn't give a shit. She needs him, not the fake version of him he acts as when other people are looking. She needs her JJ.
"Pope! Kie!" he shouts, then softens his voice when she flinches in the other direction of him, "I need the pill. She's gonna make herself pass out breathing like this."
It happened too quickly to react to.
He didn't have the time to prep himself for it or reach into his bag when he had the initial instinct to give her the pill in the first place before things took a nosedive into detrimental territory, but that's how these things go. It isn't always gradual. Sometimes all it takes are small things building before one more trigger snaps your last scrap of sanity.
"It's not my fault your bag is so fucking unorganized, it wasn't even in that pocket, JJ! I'm trying!" Kie yells back at him.
Her hands shake on the zipper of the last pocket she and Pope had yet to look into, and she lets out a cry of relief at the sight of the small ziploc with a single bar of Xanax sitting at the bottom of it. The angels might as well be singing at the sight of it in her mind, because the relief she feels knowing it'll calm her friend down is immeasurable.
They rush over to where she and JJ are slumped against the side of the van together, and they've gone from standing to sitting in a heap against the front tire. Her body is fixed between his legs, his arms holding her in against him, and he's leaned forward to prop his chin on her shoulder as he whispers things they can't hear to her.
Kie and Pope kneel down in front of her. The gravelly pavement scrapes her knees through the slits in her distressed jeans, but she doesn't feel it through the adrenaline pumping into her in the process of giving him the pill. It drops into the palm of his hand, almost onto the ground, and he doesn't have the time to spare a thank you. They're all too focused on her to bother with formalities.
"Open up," JJ says, gesturing to her mouth, and when she's too lost in her mind to do it, he reaches with his other hand to tap her repeatedly on the shoulder. "Y/N. Open your mouth."
With the stress of the situation having its affect on him, it's difficult not to raise his voice when she doesn't comply with the commands that'll only help her in the end. But she's not mentally here right now, and it takes a few seconds of them all getting her attention for her to do what he asked.
Pope has the good sense to tell her before he sets the halved dose onto her tongue, "He's giving you a pill, so keep it on your tongue for a second, okay?"
In her muddled, panicked state, she hums in response, and they all take victory in the small improvement. A non-verbal response is better than being wholly unresponsive. It's getting better for now.
The pill merely sits on her tongue for a half-second before Kie is uncapping her hydroflask and handing it off to JJ for him to help her with. He raises the edge of the bottle to her lips, pouring in enough so she can take the pill but not too much, and watches her swallow it before bringing it back for another mouthful for good measure.
Once the pill is swallowed, and Kie checks her tongue to make sure it went down, there's nothing to do except sit back and help her through it until it kicks in.
The one time he used it, it halted his panic attack in its tracks tracks about fifteen or twenty minutes in, but Ricky told him it can work as soon as ten minutes later or up to thirty minutes. It depends on the person taking it and the dosage, but it's generally fast-acting, which was the whole reason he bought two off of him for these situations. The thing is, he didn't think he'd have to use it on her.
JJ takes deep, stabilizing breaths, not only for her to take as an example, but because he felt like he couldn't breathe along with her until they got her to swallow that pill. The feeling of her body's warm pressing up against his chest keeps him sane for the time being, and he lets his face tilt down to rest on the back of her neck, nuzzling into her hair and savoring the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo.
"Keep breathing," he whispers, and he knows she hears him this time based on how her chest struggles with the conscious effort of her trying to match his breathing pattern beneath the hand resting there.
Y/N starts to come down from the peak of her sudden panic attack after another ten minutes of sitting here, with JJ clinging to her and her friends knelt with their hands in hers, and blinks her tired eyes against the harsh sunlight glaring down at them. Ricky was right about it working quickly, then, 'cause it kicked it fast with her. She obviously isn't up to normal standards within the span of ten minutes, but she isn't on the verge of passing out, so they all take a collective sigh of relief when she starts to return to them.
The first thing she says, after an additional ten minutes of them all sitting there with her on the ground of the deserted parking lot, is, "I'm so exhausted."
The sound of the water in the marsh lapping at the edge of the land connecting to the dock keeps her from crumbling. Well, that and the Xanax barely lingering in her system from hours ago when her friends forced-fed the drug to her. The bitter taste lingered on her tongue in the moment after she swallowed it, but JJ, knowing from when he split one to take in the midst of a panic attack, cared enough to remember that and give her another swig of water to wash it away.
Most of what occurred after her sudden meltdown in the school parking lot is hazy to her. The time in which she and JJ sat there together, with her hands outstretched to hold onto Pope and Kie, felt like an eternity, but she knows based on the time on JJ's phone when he pulled it out that it wouldn't have been longer than twenty minutes. That memory skips straight into waking up alone in her bed in the Chateau, and it's not like she expected him to stay, but she wanted him to.
It's not his obligation to take care of her. That's her own responsibility, and she knows that her feelings since John B and Sarah died have been all too dependent on JJ. It isn't healthy. She knows it isn't, but she doesn't need the same things from him that she did back then. She doesn't need him to fix her, or put her back together. What she wants is for him to be here. That's it.
Yet he isn't. He dropped her off here after they helped her through the meltdown and left her alone, and she wishes she didn't have to accept the fact that they're never going to become what she wants them to.
Y/N snuggles further into the sleeping bag she dug out of the hallway closet and stares at the formidable wall of tree bark towering in front of her. The tip of her finger traces the grooves in the old magnolia's wood, studying the dips and curves as though it's the most interesting thing in the universe to distract herself. Further up above where her fingertips can reach sits the carving JJ made of her brother's headstone into tree.
It felt right to come here.
Once she woke from her drug-induced drowsiness and remembered the absence of her brother's coveted bandana, she didn't feel the same panic as before. Instead, a crushing wave of melancholy washed over her as soon as the memory of today returned, and she didn't know what else to do. Without any of her friends here, or her brother alive, she did the closest thing she could to knocking on John B's bedroom door after a nightmare and asking if she could sleep in his room for the night.
Laying in his sleeping bag with her head resting on a pillow, she tries to fall asleep at the foot of the tree where they buried the box of letters for him. For her, this is his resting place, not a place at the bottom of the ocean for him to moulder away forever. Sometimes, she sits here, and if she closes her eyes to pretend for a while, it feels like he's with her.
Her tear ducts, exhausted and overworked from her sobbing aggressively enough to give herself a headache back at the school parking lot, have dried up. At this point, there are no tears left to cry, and she finds comfort in it. Knowing that there's nothing left to do but feel these emotions and let them go lifts a weight off of her shoulders that she hadn't realized was there.
The white noise of chirping birds, the current of the marsh, and the HMS Pogue hitting the dock every other second is torn through by the sudden sound of a bike's engine approaching from down the street.
She takes a deep breath.
The least important aspect of the events leading to her panic attack was what happened with JJ, but it was part of it. It isn't even something she wants to hold against him at this point. Sure, it was shitty of him to lie, but wasn't it shitty of her to place expectations on him when they weren't even together? If she wanted more, she shouldn't have said she was okay with it not being a date.
Soon, the rumbling sound of JJ's bike comes to halt not fifteen feet from where she rests her head under the magnolia tree, and she finally decides she's going to work up the courage to say it. It's time to rip the bandaid off and tell him everything. No more miscommunication, and if he still wants to be friends with her, that's the best outcome.
JJ steps on fallen leaves and twigs in his path on his way to her, tossing his forgotten backpack into the dirt beside his parked bike, and the footsteps she hears come to a stop right behind her.
This is it.
She's gonna end this relationship and let him be happy with his new girlfriend. Her chest is already rising with the deep inhale she needs to keep herself calm, and her mouth opens to speak the dreaded words to set them free when—
"My dad's going to jail for the restitution."
That was the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth when she heard him drive up.
The times where JJ has brought up his father willingly in conversation with her are scarce, enough so that this spontaneous confession stops her short before she can consider saying anything regarding what Kiara told her today. The restitution never faded from either of their minds since they lost out on the gold to Ward Cameron. It weighed on him quite heavily, worrying him in quieter moments about the day he'd have to answer for his crime and do time in jail, but what he hadn't expected was his dad to have to take responsibility for it.
It makes sense to her when she thinks of it. With Luke being his legal guardian, he bears responsibility too, and with JJ unable to produce the immense sum of money that fast, it falls on him. But how would he knows that happened if he didn't go home—
Y/N whips her head around, body shifting in the confines of the sizeable sleeping bag in a rush to turn and see if he's okay. What she's met with is a sight she hasn't had the displeasure of seeing since before John B died.
The angular face that was unmarred by injury and smiling at her this morning is now set in a permanent frown. Bruises bloom against the backdrop of tanned skin, one along his cheekbone and another circling his eye, and she's sure there are more beneath his clothes. His lower lip is split open and scabbed over with a grotesque build-up of fresh blood that can't be more than an hour or so old.
Her blood runs hot with a familiar sense of fury, but it's underscored by a sorrow so different to the one she feels in mourning John B, it makes her heart hurt on behalf of him. How could anyone look at JJ and find themselves compelled to hurt him? How dare his dad touch a single hair on his head?
There's nothing she can say as she stares at him in shock.
Today was never-ending. From the second she woke up with the bitterness of what happened at the Cherry Bowl, which now feels insignificant by comparison, to this gut-wrenching moment, these past fourteen hours might as well have been a year to her. And in the eye of the storm, she finds a sense of clarity surrounding her relationship with JJ at this moment in time.
Neither of them are ready to have the conversation necessary to sort out the convoluted mess that is their feelings for each other. After her mental breakdown and his encounter with his dad, neither of them have enough bandwidth to support the rational, mature attitudes needed for it, so she decides it doesn't need to happen. At least, not yet.
They are best friends before they are anything else to each other, and, right now, it seems like they both need their best friend. Not to fix them, or hold them together when they're broken, but to be there. To simply exist within the mutual understanding they've always retained for one another. No strings attached.
Though it hasn't been long since the confession left his mouth, it's starting to verge into glaringly loud silence by the time she finally nods, unzips the side of the sleeping bag, and holds it open in a wordless invitation for him.
JJ's entire body relaxes upon seeing her gesture for him to join her, and those teary eyes of his become heavier at the promise of the rest that'll soon find him in her arms. There's a short pause for him to unlace his boots and slip them off, but he's laying beside her before either of them realize it, securing his arms around her body. With the way he holds onto her, one would wonder if he thinks she'll be taken away if he doesn't keep her as close as possible.
He didn't abandon her after the Pogues brought her back to her room.
Kiara drove them to the Chateau with her and JJ huddled up together in the backseat as soon as she was calm enough to speak. Though, once they were sat down together and buckled in, the instantaneous drowsiness of the drug she has no tolerance for hit her at once, and she let herself get dragged under into unconsciousness with her face buried into his neck—something their friends did not care to question. Any one of them would offer that comfort for each other in a time of need, it wasn't suspicious that it happened to be him this time.
Their friends departed an hour after they returned her to her bedroom and assured she was safe there, but he needed to pack a bag for the next few days if he planned to stay the night with her, so he decided to pop over to his house for his things. It was supposed to be a quick affair, in and out with no complications in less than twenty minutes since his dad was supposed to be working, but it wasn't. As luck would have it, his dad got fired from his job the day before. To add insult to injury, his dad had ammunition to use against him in their argument this time, and there was no reasoning with him.
She should've known. Shame floods her at the realization of why he wasn't here when she woke up, and while she was too busy assuming he didn't care about her, he was being beaten half to death by his dad.
The feeling of his body shuddering against hers with the first few warning signs that he's about to break down into tears—full-on sobbing tears—and she can't help but let a few of her own fall down her cheeks in reaction. He tries not to cry in front of anyone, a fact she knew ever since they were little when he fell off his skateboard and scraped up the side of his leg with the outright refusal to let himself cry in the presence of their friends, and she didn't know it was because of his dad until recently.
He let it slip one day, not even thinking about what he was saying when he told her that crying got him "punished" when he was little. It first happened after his mom ran out on them, and him, being an innocent, helpless child, cried and cried over it for hours. It was wasn't long before Luke lost his patience with hearing it and...That was the first time JJ was ever hit by his dad before, and, unfortunately, it would not be the last.
It isn't lost on her what this means to him. The fact that she's the person he goes to, that he's allowing himself to cry with her here, means he trusts her more than she ever thought he did, and she doesn't know what to do with it.
There's a pause, him sucking in a shaky breath, then he whispers, "I wish I didn't still love him. Who the fuck loves someone when they treat you like this?"
His head rests on her sternum, his legs slotted perfectly in the gap between hers, and she runs her fingers through his hair in a repetitive, soothing motion that keeps him tethered to her for stability.
"I think," she says softly, staring up at the fluttering leaves above them, "that you have a really big heart and you can't help it, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. You're hardwired to love him because he's your dad, you know?"
The most of a response he can give is a hum into the soft skin of her chest, letting his grip on her relax the more his cries start to lessen in response to having her here.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
He feels the vibration of her speaking the word, "No," into the open late-night air above them where his head rests on her body.
"Me either."
Of course she isn't okay. He already knew the answer before he asked the question, but perhaps some blindly hopeful part of him prayed that she would be. After what he saw her go through, something he was accustomed to seeing in the first two weeks following her brother's death, he wishes that the answer to that question will always be yes when he asks.
He isn't sure that he's felt helplessness the same way he did today. Knowing that she was suffering and having no way to help except dosing her with an anxiety pill and hoping for the best...it was torture. He wouldn't say he's a devout believer in God, but he was two seconds away from praying to anyone that would listen as he sat on the ground behind her with his face pressed into her back, waiting for it to pass.
Her breaths are steady and even as he counts them, and her heartbeat is slowing with the approach of her falling asleep. If he were to look up at her face for the first time since laying down with her, he'd find her eyes fluttered shut in pursuit of the sweet reprieve to be found in sleep, and he knows what it feels like. It's what he feels currently.
Sleep is the closest thing they can find to death.
It's dark and peaceful, void of any ill feelings or thought short of the dreams or nightmares that sometimes greet them there, and it's the only place to escape to when your greatest enemy is your own traitorous mind. For JJ, his biggest enemy isn't his dad, it's himself. It's the thoughts that bombard him until he either drinks himself to sleep or exhausts himself with a panic attack, and the one cure to it is falling asleep.
And it may be too dark of a thought for him to share, but that's why dying doesn't seem too bad to him sometimes. It's not that he wants to die, or that he has any plans, but he can't deny the appeal sometimes. It's quiet. It's peaceful. It's a relief from the endless shitshow he calls life, and he can tell without having to ask her that she shares the sentiment today.
The thing is, there's one thing he'd miss if he weren't here, and when he lifts his head up to find her soft, sleeping face tilted to the side to face the tree, he knows.
The nighttime breeze blows the strands of honeyed hair from his face as he watches her in sheer, unadulterated reverence.
Sometimes, there are moments where everything feels correct. The planets move to their desired positions, the circumstances force a new train of thought, and there is nothing left to do except sit back and let it happen. This is one of those moments for him. Before tonight, he had his suspicions and hints that he denied the validity of, but there is no denying it anymore.
He sighs to himself. Not an annoyed, exasperated sigh, but a sigh of acceptance and longing that has remained trapped inside of him since he was a seven year old boy, letting his best friend's little sister ride a wave with him on his board because he loved the sound of her laugh when they did it. He never stood a chance, did he?
JJ reaches up to touch her face but stops at the last second, hovering over her cheek as though he's afraid she'll burn him upon contact, and he settles for brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as gently as he can without waking her. His voice is a hardly-audible whisper when he confesses to her sleeping form, knowing she won't be able to hold him to it.
"I love you."
When he falls asleep, he finds himself holding onto consciousness uncharacteristically, and he knows it's because he'll miss her too much for the next eight hours to go under without a fight.
Maybe dying isn't all he built it up to be.
Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren
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ok. karin vs anakin's genome being 50% the Force. go
Jesus fuck, okay. Uh, fair warning, I know very little about this subject, so it’s 90% bullshit. I am in no way qualified to talk about biology past the high school level.
Anakin's sixteen. He's part of a set of Jedi assigned to a weird mission regarding making contact with an isolated planet of near-humans with superpowers but no space travel. He doesn’t really have a Job here and now, he’s just there as Obi-Wan’s plus-one. There's an underlying plot about Sidious trying to acquire people from Ninja Land, but none of the Jedi are fully aware of it. Mostly they're distracted by all the ninjas and their bitching.
They call it the Shinobi Planet, because nobody can agree on a name for the planet when they ask and the last major international alliance was named after the shinobi profession, right? Good enough, you can change it later when you idiots can agree on literally anything, oh my god. The Samurai are very offended and it's a whole thing.
Anakin wanders a lot. He runs into various strange people and is mostly polite because, listen, half his friends are distinctly not human. When your immediate circle includes nautolans and besalisks and twi’leks and whatever the fuck Yoda is, you’re not gonna blink at a Hoshigaki or... uh... okay that kid just turned into a giant fox, is anybody gonna--no? That’s normal? Just him? Cool, cool, cool.
There’s a kage summit involved in the negotiations going on. IDK what’s being negotiated, probably something to get the ninjas to set up a singular spaceport so there’s somewhere to land WITHOUT ships being regularly shot down by village defense systems powered by that massive flaming purple skeleton warrior or the girl who punched down a mountain or the.. the literal desert? There’s a guy that can control the desert? Is there any way of keeping him away from Anakin?
(Gaara’s tickled pink that the reason someone wants to stay away from him has nothing to do with fear or respect for authority, and everything to do with ‘he is also from the desert and fucking hates it, so he’s staying away from the sand powers,’ because it’s very novel and kind of funny.)
ANYWAY where was I. Uh. Right, kage summit, lots of villages, they invite smaller villages to pitch in, but nobody ever ever ever wants Orochimaru anywhere near this situation, for hopefully obvious reasons, so Otogakure sends Karin.
Really, who else was it gonna be? Suigetsu? You want Suigetsu representing you on an interstellar political field? You want Juugo before he’s stabilized? You want Sasuke, master of ruining kage summits? You want these idiots representing you at the big kids’ table?
They send Karin. She’s a bitch with a temper, but at least she’s not as big of a political risk as... literally anyone else from the snakepit.
Anyway, Anakin wanders around, meeting people, trying foods, showing off when asked for demonstrations. He doesn’t have an Entire Protocol Droid, but he did cobble together a little floating helper that can do translations for him. Assume all translations are accurate and being done by the little helper bot. Bot’s name is G1-0T. Anakin calls it Glot.
He runs into Karin at one point, who’s not super into the whole situation, but at least Anakin’s interesting. She’s not interested in him, because he’s sixteen and she’s like... mid-twenties. And his hair is stupid. But! All these force-sensitive people feel weird to her, because sensor stuff, and it’s not chakra but it’s... something. Anakin is, of course, the weirdest.
(There are non-sensitives in the envoy, so she knows it’s not just a space thing.)
She strikes up a conversation about it, because hey, she hasn’t made it this far to not lean into... you know, being the kind of person who barges ahead with Weird Questions that might lead into fun science stuff.
Anakin is like. Well. This woman’s very strange, but it’s not like there’s anything against talking about midichlorians to random people. It’s easy enough to look up in the core. Not everyone knows about them, but it’s not a secret or anything.
“Wow,” Karin says, though not in so many words, “that sounds incredibly strange, and actually a lot like it functions completely differently from chakra, though maybe it intersects with nature chakra somehow. Can I take a blood sample?”
Anakin doesn’t want to give a blood sample to a stranger. Karin isn’t stupid enough to try to steal one. She’s seen what this Force Stuff can do, and this kid’s got a lot of it. She hasn’t got enough information on hand about it to know if he’d notice.
“How about I let you look at the blood of a guy that can turn into water?” Karin asks, because she’s not going to let him look at her blood. “I’ve got it with me.”
“...why?” Anakin asks, reasonably disturbed.
“He owes me,” she says, and does not elaborate.
“What, there’s nothing weird about your blood to share?” Anakin demands, like the ornery little bastard he is.
“People took my blood against my will for over a decade,” Karin says, with the kind of smile that threatens a stabbing. This is not secret information. Her healing factor is in the bingo book. Plenty of people still want her dead. “Nobody gets my blood except me.”
Anakin has no idea what to do with that answer. Most people wouldn’t know what to do with that answer. It’s not exactly a standard answer.
“So there is something weird about your--e chu ta what the fuck are those scars?”
Karin looks at her arm. She looks back at him. She raises an eyebrow.
“What do you think they are?”
He stares a little longer, and then very carefully does not say anything as she pushes her sleeve back down.
“So can I look at your blood?” she asks again.
“Uh--”
“You can look at mine under a microscope,” she wheedles. “You can’t take any, though.”
Anakin... does eventually agree. Eventually.
-----------
There is a very angry redhead yelling at a machine, and Anakin does not know what to do.
“Is something wr--”
“What the fuck is your blood?” she demands. “It’s glowing in ultraviolet. It burned the dye up. I tried to sequence your genome--”
“Woah, I did not agree to that.”
“--and look at this. Look at this!”
“I don’t know how to read your graphs. None of this is a language I know.”
“It’s garbage,” she hisses at him. Glot takes a few moments to process it. “Look at this. This is supposed to--fuck, where’s the Jiraiya file, he’s standard--this is what it’s supposed to look like for most humans with chakra. And this is a civilian, and a few bloodline users--”
“Do you just carry these around with you?”
“Shut up, you don’t exist. You have--you have more in common with summons than people. I ran a blood test on one of your human diplomats, the ones that aren’t monks--”
“When did they agree to that?”
“They didn’t, I’m just sneaky.”
“I should tell Obi-W--”
“STAY THERE, I’M NOT DONE YELLING YET. Do you see this? Do you see this shit? This is the one and only time I’ve managed to perform any kind of analysis on a bijuu. They don’t usually have blood. Shukaku is sand. Matatabi is literally just fire. This was almost impossible to make happen, but I did it because I’m a dedicated biomedical resea--”
“Because you’re unhinged.”
“--rcher, and you know what? You know what I’ve found?”
“What?”
“Your blood looks like you’re half demon,” she says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking, a little wild-eyed and clearly pissed at him. “Half of it’s human! Half of it looks like the non-physical chakra manifestations that were torn-apart remnants of a godlike demon. The fuckers can’t die. They also can’t breed. They don’t have reproductive organs! This isn’t just demon-tainted like a jinchuuriki, I’ve got that analyzed--”
“Why?”
“Because my cousin’s a moron, don’t change the subject. You--you shouldn’t exist. Your blood is stupid. Fuck, is this what I’d find if I analyzed the Sage of the Six Paths?”
“The what?”
She ignores him, frowning at papers. “Is--I need to call Haruno, she might still have some of Kaguya’s blood dried on her old gloves from the war, I know she kept those as a souvenir from the whole ‘punched a god’ thing.”
“I’m sorry, the what?”
“There was a thing a few years back, godlike alien demon princess who got sealed into a moon by her sons a thousand years ago, but her immortal sentient goo child brought her back with a giant tree that consumed all the tailed beasts-the flaming fox you saw earlier is one of them--and then used a giant eyeball to reflect off the moon to put everyone in a hallucination at the same time so she could eat our life-forces,” Karin dismisses. “It’s not important.”
“There is--what?”
Jedi see many things. Many of those things are very strange.
This is a little much even for Anakin.
“It’s over, if you want the actual details, talk to my idiot cousin,” she huffs. “But now I need to run comparisons between the actual nonsense that is your entire existence and the actual nonsense that is my cousin’s existence, and maybe Sasuke’s... fuck this is going to be a mess, I’m going to have to cross-reference all the clans with bloodlines we know are derived from Kaguya, she’s the only angle we have on gods like that, unless... maybe there’s still some black Zetsu goo somewhere... Orochimaru must have kept a sample...”
“Uh, can I--can I go? I’m not comfortable here.”
“I need to find Naruto so he can call the Sage of the Six Paths out of the afterlife so I can see if I can get blood from a ghost to compare to yours.”
#Anakin Skywalker#Uzumaki Karin#Karin#Karin Uzumaki#Naruto#star wars#mini fic#Phoenix Posts#Phoenix Answers Asks#this is so stupid and I have no idea what I'm talking about#bijuu don't even have blood but Anakin's has more in common with THEM than with humans
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Floor 200
I’m still working on part two of vampire!Hisoka but here’s a different, shorter piece with him
Warnings: threats of noncon, implied death, implications of smut
You yelped a bit as you moved out of the way of the two young boys who burst out from the elevator, barely managing to avoid them plowing you down as they sprinted past you.
The boy wearing green at least had the decency to call back a “sorry!” to you as they ran, and the rather messy-looking man with glasses that followed behind them also offered you a quick apology before going on his way. Just as quickly as those three had come, they were gone, leaving through a side entrance of Heaven's Arena while your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at how sudden and unexpected all of that had been.
The encounter was more confusing than anything. With the amount of dangerous characters that lived in the tower, it certainly wasn't a place for children to be running around like that. Some of the people here really didn't give a shit, and if those two ran into someone who was actually dangerous and bloodthirsty, you feared what the end result of that would be.
The elevator doors sliding shut brought you back to reality, and you pushed your arm against one door to hold it open as you slipped inside, pushing the button for the 200th floor.
Thinking about those boys again brought back memories of your own childhood, of running around and playing with your friends and getting into trouble. You sighed a little bit, thinking of the things you used to do and wondering where all that energy had gone now that you'd grown up.
….. Dear God, had you really gotten to the point in your life where you'd be reminiscing about your childhood and the fact that you'd grown up to be as miserable as everybody else? It wasn't like you were that old.
You didn't want to focus on that slightly depressing thought, so you turned your attention to the bags of groceries you held and the meal you planned to make. Tonight was special. After finishing up a few jobs and going through his Hunter exam, Hisoka was actually back and planned to stick around for a while. So to celebrate both his success and return you were planning on cooking dinner for the two of you. You couldn't help feeling a little bit of excitement at the thought of it. It was such a small thing to eat dinner together, but it had been a while since you had seen him last, and you wanted to make the most of it.
The downside of living on the 200th floor of the arena meant that the elevator rides were terribly long, so you usually let your mind wander as the car made its way up the numerous floors. At least the long ride helped you to calm down from that little bit of shock earlier.
The ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors sliding open alerted you when you reached your destination. You left the elevator car and veered to the right towards the hallway that lead to Hisoka's room.
“Hey you- Oh.”
A voice sounded from behind, and you turned around to see who had spoken, finding three men that you knew better than you wanted to. Though for the life of you, you could never remember their names. You only knew them as the one in the wheelchair, the freaky-looking one missing an arm, and the other freaky-looking one in red. Gido.... That one was named Gido. You were about 90% sure that was correct.
“Can I help you?” you asked them.
They all avoided your gaze.
“We were waiting for someone else,” the one without an arm said, “thought you were these two kids that made it to the floor.”
“Do I look like two kids?”
None of them responded to your question. It was clear that they wanted you to leave, but after the last time you had been confronted in these hallways, they knew better than to even say anything out of line.
Hisoka had been pushing you to move in with him, and while you weren't really sure you wanted to live at the tower full-time, you couldn't deny that the room he had on the 200th floor was nice. A lot nicer than anything you could afford in that city. And since there weren't any rent or utilities that needed to be paid, it would be a good opportunity to save up some cash. So you agreed, much to Hisoka's delight.
The incident occurred when you had been moving in; Hisoka had gone on ahead of you, carrying a few boxes while you were bringing up a few bags full of clothes. On the way to Hisoka's room, those three had stopped you, along with a fourth man, one who was covered in burn scars and missing an eye. It was obvious you weren't a nen user, so they'd demanded to know what you were doing up there.
“My boyfriend lives here; I'm moving in with him,” you told them.
“Boyfriend, huh?” the one with the scars asked, “what, you cozied up to one of the fighters here so you could live in luxury without working for it?”
“I don't have to explain myself to you,” you answered.
“No, but you'll do it anyway.”
“Fuck off.”
At that he grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into the wall, the other three laughing behind him as he held you in place.
“It just isn't good for the arena's image if any random slut off the street can be living up on this level alongside the quality fighters,” he said, “so beat it, you stupid bitch. You don't belong here.”
“And a bunch of losers who barely survived their initiations do?”
Your words seemed to hit a nerve for all four of them, and the air around you grew deadly as the grip on your throat became that much tighter. But as he did so, the one with the scars smirked as a thought came to his mind.
“I've got an idea,” he said, “why doesn't your boyfriend make a wager with me? If he fights me and wins, you can stay. But if I win, my buddies and I get to have you for the night, and then you get the fuck outta here.”
“You want to fuck me? I thought I was a slut,” you spat, “is this about humiliating me or are you four just that desperate because no one is stupid enough to willingly get in bed with you?”
He reached with his other hand to grab your jaw and force your mouth closed. Egging him on really was so stupid, but the familiar figure you had noticed from the corner of your eye made you feel a bit more bold.
“You've got a mouth on you. But I've got a few ideas on how to shut you up and put that little smartass mouth to better use.”
The other three had grown quiet, but the one holding you didn't notice.
“So how 'bout it? Will you ask your boyfriend about that wager, or should I?”
It was hard to speak with how he was holding you, but you responded as you pointed to your right.
“I think.... He already heard.”
The scarred man's eyes followed where you were pointing, and when he saw Hisoka standing within earshot, you swore that man's soul just about left his body.
The other three had already noticed him, and were actively trying to distance themselves from their fourth.
Hisoka was smiling, but the second the man laid eyes on him bloodlust he had been holding back oozed from him, filling up the hallway and consuming all four.
The man who had been on your case backed away from you, holding up his hands in surrender.
“I-I-I d-didn't know,” he sputtered.
Hisoka didn't answer at first. He casually walked up to you two and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. With how Hisoka's nails dug into your hip, you could tell that Hisoka was well and truly pissed off. The man had stayed where he was, the murderous aura keeping him in place.
Hisoka looked to him.
“I accept your wager.”
The fight between them was one of the most gruesome things you had ever witnessed, and it went down as one of the bloodiest matches in the tower's history. The remaining trio didn't go anywhere near Hisoka after that, and they did everything they could to avoid you as well.
Whatever they were waiting for must have been important to them, seeing as they weren't turning around and leaving at the sight of you. They had mentioned kids, and you wondered if they were referring to the two boys who had come from the elevator.
But ultimately, it wasn't any of your business, and you motioned to the hallway you had been headed for as you asked “do you need me for something? I've got stuff I need to do.”
They shook their heads, their eyes still averted, and you continued on your way. The petty side of you wanted to throw back a quip of some kind, but you decided against it. They already didn't like you; there was no point in making things worse and have them resent you further.
Though it was probably hard for them to start shit when they remembered the way their old buddy was cut to pieces.
When you entered that hallway, to your surprise, you found Hisoka sitting on the floor at the other end. His eyes widened and he grinned when he saw you, flicking the card he was holding and throwing it into the wall. Reaching the end of the hallway, you found several playing cards that had been sliced into the wall at various angles. What the hell was he doing?
“.... What'd the wall do to you?” you finally asked.
Hisoka paused, a new card he was about to throw still between his fingers as he looked over to you.
“After we've been apart for so long, that's the first thing you say to me?” he responded, his eyebrow raised. Though he still had that teasing grin.
“You're making a nuisance of yourself,” you answered, “who exactly is going to clean this up once you're done here?”
“Who knows. It's not my problem.”
“I used to work in jobs like these, Hisoka. Trust me, cleaning up something like this won’t be fun.”
“The people who will clean this up aren't you, so I don't care,” he responded.
You sighed. You wouldn't be getting anywhere with this argument; better to just let it go.
“Is there a reason you're sitting on the floor out here?” you tried instead.
“I'm waiting for someone.”
“Hm. I'm guessing it's not me.”
“Afraid not.”
“Who then?”
“Two promising little fighters who've caught my eye,” Hisoka mused, “but they aren't quite ready to be up on this level just yet. And unless they can get past me, they won't be advancing any further.”
“So this is some kind of initiation thing?” you asked.
“In a way.”
“And how long is this going to take?”
“They need to be back before midnight, so possibly until then.”
Your eyes narrowed at that bit of information.
“Oh? Is something wrong?” Hisoka asked, tilting his head as he looked at you.
“Haven't you forgotten something, Hisoka?”
Seconds passed by as he looked up at you, and you couldn't tell if he was just bullshitting you or if he had genuinely forgotten your plans for the evening.
“Oh!” he exclaimed after a moment, “we were planning on dinner, weren't we?”
“It seriously took you that long to remember?” you asked dryly.
“You'll have to forgive me, pet. I simply got caught up in the moment. You know how I get sometimes.”
“Unfortunately, yeah, I do,” you sighed, “so you're just going to blow me off tonight?”
“It isn't anything personal. This is just something I need to see through,” he explained.
“Oh, of course. At least I know how high I am on your list of priorities,” you responded sarcastically.
Hisoka frowned at that, and as he threw the card he had been holding into the wall, he said “you know I don't like it when you say things like that, even as a joke.”
'Just like you know I don't like it when you cancel last-minute,' was what you wanted to say to him. But as disappointed as you were, you didn't want to get into an argument immediately after seeing him again. And it was easy enough to reschedule a dinner.
“Whatever. We can move dinner to tomorrow,” you shrugging as you conceded.
“I appreciate it,” he said, smiling.
“I guess if I'm not awake by the time you get back, I'll see you in the morning.”
Hisoka nodded, and you began to walk forward, passing him and heading to your room.
A thought occurred to you then, and you turned back.
“When was the last time you ate, Hisoka?”
He seemed caught slightly off-guard by the question, and he looked to the side as his brain tried to recall the last time he had done something as basic as making sure he ate.
“You can't even remember, can you?” you asked him.
“I'll have something when I get back,” he said, shrugging.
You sighed again. Adjusting the bags so you held both on one arm, you rummaged through as you walked back to him. Hisoka looked at you curiously as you held out an apple for him.
“Eat something, idiot.”
Hisoka chuckled.
“If you insist,” he replied, taking the apple.
“I always appreciate the way you take care of me, pet.”
“Yeah, but maybe one of these days you could start to take care of yourself. Kinda sad you need me to remind you to eat, of all things.”
“I can't help it. I like it when you dote on me.”
“Idiot.”
A slight blur of movement from the end of the hallway caught your attention. Someone was listening in, it seemed. Based off the slight bit of red you had seen, it was safe to assume it was Gido. Why he was listening to you and Hisoka you weren't sure. And it didn't seem that Hisoka had seemed to care; if you had noticed him, than Hisoka definitely knew he was there.
“Something wrong? I wouldn't want to keep you out here as well,” Hisoka said.
“... No, everything's fine. I just need to do one last thing.”
“Oh?”
“Since you're blowing me off for dinner, I want something from you.”
You knelt down on your knees and set the bags to the side before you moved in to place a kiss on Hisoka's lips, resting your hands on his chest. He had seemed rather surprised at first and didn't move. But when you began to pull away he reacted, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pressing you harder against his lips. When you felt his tongue trying to force its way in you relented, opening your mouth and allowing him access. You weren't able to stop the groan that came out of you at the sensation of his tongue moving against your own, and to you it sounded like the noise echoed slightly in the empty hallway. Hisoka always made his kisses intense, and you were always left with flushed cheeks by the end of it.
When you pulled away again, he allowed it. His finger twirled a strand of your hair as he breathed “if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were using me to keep certain pests off your back.”
“Well, you have to be good for something, right?”
“Cheeky thing.”
You hummed as you stood back up, Hisoka trailing his hand down your arm as you did so, the sensation of his nails running along your skin giving you goosebumps. One glance back down that hallway and you could sense that there wasn't anyone there. Probably too awkward for even Gido to keep watching you two. Hisoka had already pulled out another playing card as you picked up the rest of the groceries.
“See you later, Hisoka.”
You began to walk away again, but when Hisoka called out your name, you paused and turned your head. There was a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Don't think you can rile me up and then get away with no consequences,” he told you.
“I don't know what you mean,” you said, feigning ignorance.
“Then I'll have to show you what I mean when I come back tonight.”
“It might have to wait until tomorrow; if you're coming back after midnight I'm going to be asleep. I'm not waiting up for you.”
“Trust me, pet,” he purred as he flung another card at the wall, “you won't be getting much sleep tonight.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at the way he said it. It was hardly even that dirty, and he had certainly said much dirtier things to you before. But in a way that only he was able, Hisoka managed to leave you flustered and incapable of keeping eye contact with him. Turning your head away from him just made it worse, as he chuckled at your embarrassment.
“We'll see,” was all you could say.
It was a pretty weak response, and you were quick to head back to the room, trying not to walk away too quickly and show him how much of a hurry you were in to get out of that situation.
Despite all that, you couldn't help the slight feeling of anticipation from what he promised.
You'd probably end up waiting up for him after all.
#hisoka x reader#Hisoka#hxh hisoka#reader insert#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere hxh#hisoka morow#yandere hunter x hunter
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Gross
Richie Tozier x Reader
summary: Y/N likes Richie so much its gross.
Inspiration: Gross by Olivia Rodrigo
warnings: literally just pure fluff, cursing we know who this is about
word count: 2.1k
The bass was heavy and loud, the people were insufferably packed together. Y/N was a really good friend, or so she kept telling herself, for coming to this party just to appease Bev. Ever since they met at a bookstore, they had gotten really close-despite living in two different towns. Y/N maneuvered her way through the swarm of people. She turned the corner into the living room and spotted her red headed friend in the corner alongside the group, she had heard called themselves ‘The Losers Club’. Her elbows starting jamming into people as she finally crossed the threshold of people and practically fell into the arms of one, Richie Tozier.
“Well, well, well. It appears that you’ve fallen for me.” Y/N let out a chuckle at the response. His brown eyes, goofy little grin and messy, curly hair did manage to melt her heart just a little bit in that moment.
“So, Y/N, you’ve met Richie.” Bev said as she pulled her from Richie’s arms and into a hug. The two stand swaying for a second before Y/N releases herself from the hug. She couldn’t help but notice the six set of eyes staring at her.
“Jesus guys, would it kill you to interact with her instead of stare.” Bev pulled Y/N’s back to her chest and looked toward the group. “You guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Richie.” She pointed at each one as they were introduced.
“Ni-Ni-Nice to me-meet you, Y/N.” Bill said waving to her. Y/N and the group got acquainted a little before they all started breaking off in sections, leaving Richie and Y/N alone.
“Hey.” Y/N said breaking the awkward ‘silence’. “I don’t know this house at all, could you guide me to the kitchen for something to drink?”
“Of course m’lady.” He said taking on one of his many accents. He lightly grabbed her hand and dragged her through some people and into the kitchen. The girl somehow found a water bottle amidst the copious amounts of alcohol.
“Come on, not even one drink?” Richie said leaning in to shout over the music, their faces coming extremely close.
“No sir, I have to drive home tonight. Who’s your lucky DD?”
“Stan the Man Uris.” Richie slurred together slightly. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober either. Y/N let out an ‘Ah’ in response. She noticed how many eyes were now spent looking at her and Richie.
“Hey Richie?”
“Yes my darling angel?” The nickname made her blush, but she had a bigger thing to focus on.
“Why is every girl in the room staring at you?”
“Oh…Uhh…well you see, I made a joke to some gullible ass freshman that I had a 12 inch wang and he’s started telling everyone. Now the class clown is somehow becoming the class arm candy. I just want it to stop.”
“What if we made them stare for another reason?”
“You got an idea?”
“Two, first off how do you feel about slapping?”
“Please don’t slap me.”
“Okay, what about pretending we’re gonna go hook up?”
“Now we don’t have to pretend if you don’t want to-“ She shoved his arm.
“Richie, do you want it to stop or not?”
“What should I do?”
“I’m gonna get really, really close.” She said as she pressed her body flush with his. Her face was centimeters away from his, she pulled his face down so that she could whisper into his ear. “Now wrap your arms around my waist and pull me closer. Start talking about something random and just ignore what I am doing.” She pulled back just slightly as to start making eye contact. Her stomach was a flutter with butterflies and the proximity. His arms wrapped around her and snuggly brought her closer to him. He began jabbering about something stupid Eddie had said earlier that day about your hand getting chopped off while it’s out the car window. To sell the point to ones close enough to see, which considering how dense the party was was a lot of people, she kept glancing between his eyes and his lips while he was talking. After a few minutes past, she pulled him down to whisper again.
“Is it working?” She watched as his eyes lightly glazed the room and shook his head no. She cursed to herself. Richie’s eyes lit up with an idea, and his arms squeezed her tighter into him.
“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Richie leaned down to whisper into her ear. He leans back and Y/N shakes her head yes. He gently grabs her chin and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. They stay kissing for a brief span before pulling apart. He leaned into her ear and said “If I get you to the front door, can we go out to your car?” All Y/N did in response was grab his hand. He lead her to the door, and she led him the rest of the way. Once they get to her car, she lets her head fall against the headrest on the seat.
“Oh my god it’s so much nicer out here.” She let out with a chuckle.
“You can say that again.” Richie said in the same manner. “Thank you for back there by the way, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.”
“Oh yeah, no worries. What should we do about Bev and the boys?”
“I figured that when they can’t find us, they’ll come looking. In the meantime, we could hangout…that is if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Y/N said with a beaming smile. And from that day on, they hung out as much as they physically could. Their weird fake relationship blossomed into a wonderful friendship and then a very real relationship. For nearly 3 months, the pair had seen each other at least five times in a week. Whether that meant Richie driving the 45 minutes to her or vice versa. It was a lot, and it was expensive but they didn’t care. They were having fun and loving where they were.
Y/N was hanging a new photo of her and Richie on her wall by her bed, as Richie watched idly on her bed. His eyes wandered around the walls and furniture at all the different photos and keepsakes she had kept. While most of the photos were of either him, or the two together, he didn’t feel narcissistic in loving how her room looked. He loved it just because it was hers.
“So tell me my darling angel, how was school today?”
“Fine.”
“No Y/N. We’re not doing this bullshit today. What happened?”
“Nothing, just this dumb bitch Penelope C.”
“God, I hate that Penelope C piece of shit.” He said, matching her same angered tone.
“Rich, you don’t even know her babe.”
“I trust your opinion of her, if you hate her, I fucking despise her.” Y/N grabbed her boyfriends face wasting no time in making out with him. She pulls back and just looks at him stunned.
“Why was that the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me?”
“What can I say? I know what drives the ladies crazy.”
“I’m sure of it.” She said sarcastically. Richie did his signature puppy dog eyes, and her icy heart was thawed. She gave him one more peck to the lips, and then began placing pecks scattered all over his face. He grabbed her by her hips and flipped her to be beneath him. He began tickling her relentlessly. Her laughter filled the room, yet also drained her. She pried him off of her. The two lay side by side, heads turned to make eye contact.
“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/N.” Richie said. Y/N moved her head closer and gave him one more soft kiss.
Music softly filled the car. Richies hand was placed gently in Y/N’s lap, his thumb absentmindedly grazes her leg. Her eyes were wandering, looking at each driveway, house, mailbox and road. One day, hopefully, her and Richie would be driving to their own house. They would pull into the driveway and go inside to see their pets or their kids. Her future with him seemed bright. A wide smile creeped across her face as did a light blush.
“What’s got you so smiley?” Richie said, glancing away from the road to look at her.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“You were thinking about me huh?”
“Yeah…” Y/N said embarrassed.
“Tell me all the dirty little details, my darling angel.” He said cockily, smirking towards the road.
“Ugh, Richie don’t be gross. I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“I’m sorry, but is it so hard to believe that my hot girlfriend is thinking about her incredibly sexy boyfriend?”
“Oh shut the hell up.” She said through her laughter. He started faintly laughing with her.
“What were you really thinking about?”
“Just about what it would be like to have a future together. And what it would be like to drive to a home of our own with things of our own.”
“You really want a future with me?”
“Of course I do.”
“I can’t wait for it then.” He said smiling, transferring his hand from her thigh to her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, before Y/N had the idea to stir the pot.
“Oh and Richie?”
“Yeah?”
“Think of all the sex we could have in a house of our own.” She said with a smirk as they pulled into her driveway.
Bev wandered around Y/N’s room as she was chaotically putting away her laundry all over her room.
“Jesus, everywhere I turn, there’s Richie.” Bev said breaking the silence, making Y/N giggle to herself. “You really like that dumbass don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.” Y/N stopped for a moment to think about Richie Tozier before continuing,“I can’t help but think and talk about him all the time. He makes me feel so safe and loved, and he always makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want everything from him- the highs, the lows, and everything in between. I want to tell him everything about my day and i want to hear about the trivial shit he talks about like the traffic coming to see me or what bill did at lunch that day. I like him so so much. I lo-love him.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda gross.” Bev joked with Y/N. “I’m happy for ya Y/N/N, as annoying as he is, he is a really good guy.”
“God, he is so annoying… but it’s kinda why I love him.” The girls continued their night as planned, but the thoughts of how Y/N felt about Richie never left.
As soon as Bev left her house early the next morning, she hopped in her car and went over to Richie’s house. Bev always had to leave super early because of her dad, so Y/N knew she couldn’t just knock on the Tozier’s door. She climbed her way up a tree and across some of Richie’s roof in order to knock on his window. A shirtless and boxer clad Richie came the window groggily.
“What are you doing here darling angel? It’s fucking 7 am.” He said, rubbing his eyes and through a yawn.
“I just really gotta talk to you.” His eyes widened at that sentence. He ushered her in and onto his bed. She sat for a few seconds and then stood up to pace a small line.
“Y/N, is everything okay?” Richie said.
“I just…I like you so much it’s gross.” Y/N said looking right at him. “And you were right.” She said with a roll of the eyes and a light stamp of her foot.
“What? What do you mean ‘I’m right’?”
“That very first night we met, hell the very first moments we met. You were right, I did fall for you.”
“Y/N…” Richie said quietly, coming up to bring his body flush to hers, just the moment at the party.
“I love you Richie.”
“I love you so fucking much Y/N.” He said, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. Y/N sure was glad he was the one she gave her heart to.
#richie tozier#richie toizer x reader#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier imagine#richie toizer imagine
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possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.
earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students
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Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.
Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.
Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.
Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.
"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"
Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.
That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.
The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"
Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.
Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.
No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.
Or if Newt left the door unlocked.
More footsteps. Closer now.
Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)
Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?
Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.
The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—
Oh, fuck.
The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.
Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.
It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.
Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.
Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.
"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"
"Hold that thought," Newt says.
He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.
Hermann is still yelling at him.
"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"
Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.
Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"
"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."
Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."
"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"
"Well, obviously," Hermann says.
Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?
Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.
"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"
Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."
Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.
Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.
But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."
"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"
"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."
For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"
"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.
From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.
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