#was happy enough to share earlier this year

[fromthedeskoftheminister]

Magical Emergencies of the Big Moon Variety

Summary: Not everyone adjusts well to being unceremoniously ejected from a collective simulation. Even if it only lasted for approximately 6 months ship time, it certainly felt a lot longer. Some of the adjustments that need to be made are minor in nature. Others… are a bit more serious and require outside assistance which youd think would be hard to come by in space. Look familiar? Unedited Pt 1, Unedited Pt 2,

Read the edited version on AO3

Tango spread his fingers against the glass his hand flexing absently as he greedily drank in the sights of his friends and family. He couldn’t tell if the relief that he was feeling was from the simple joy that his family were all in fact alive and in, uh, various states of wellness or from the more selfish realization that he hadn’t failed in his quest to blow up the moon.  The simulation had ended quite abruptly, moments before moon-fall.  If Tango had to guess, the resulting cataclysm had catapulted them back into their bodies and awareness of the real world without so much as a by your leave. From his vantage point it was very obvious that some of them had not handled the transition well at all. 

His eyes drifted down the line of Hermits as they all waited, with varying levels of patience, for the Pods to finish draining and equalize to the internal atmosphere of the Hermitheius. Bdubs was pressed up against the glass, as close as he could get to the center of the room and by default the rest of the hermits, eyes wider than normal. Their gazes met and Bdubs’ grin nearly split his face in two, eyes watering. Tango flashed him a quick smirk and a thumbs up. His focus wandered again, this time seeking out the third member of their trio. Keralis was sitting peacefully on the floor of his own pod making faces at XB, but he offered a wave of his own when Tango managed to catch his eye. Basemates accounted for, Tango turned his attention to the rest of his friends. From where he was already looking, it was easiest to find Zedaph, skipping over and noting a few empty pods in the process. He’d been a bit concerned for Zed, isolated as he had been for the entirety of the simulation but there was no way to tell what was going through his buddy’s head normally let alone right now. In fact, Zed was still sitting back to the room and staring out the window closest to his pod into the void of space, just as he had been since Tango had awakened.

A fine mist of condensation floated across the room before dissipating. Tango traced it to its source finding what looked like a joyous cacophony of noise as Bdubs’ upon release from his pod had launched himself into the arms of a mildly surprised Etho. Tango was unsure exactly why as he had spotted the other man hovering near Bdubs pod for as long as he had been aware.  Etho hadn't been the only one present either, even if he was the only one currently lingering. Iskall, Stress, Wels and TFC had left the simulation early and Tango had seen all of them as they wandered through, checking in on everyone before wandering off again. Wels had even stopped to chat when Tango had waived him down while waiting for his pod to finish draining.

It was hard to communicate through glass without communicators but luckily his pantomimes and pidgin sign language had been fairly easy to understand. At least Wels had gotten the gist of what Tango wanted to know, and had been fairly obliging in his explanations. The five hermits who had ended up leaving the simulation early had simply opted to remain out of the simulation rather than constantly hopping back in and out again during the long trip to Season 8. He’d also managed to convey that he and Stress had had been working on a project with Iskall. It was when Renbob had wandered through that Wels had left to chase the hippie back to his bed. Tango wasn’t put off by the abrupt ending to their acted out conversation. Earlier Wels had indicated that both Renbob and the Goatfather had worked themselves to exhaustion trying to make sure that Boatem had made it out safely as they had been last group to get booted. It had been a much more complicated and trying process than anyone had been prepared for and none of them were sure exactly where the problem had originated. Something, something, resetting respawns, sleep deprivation and maybe the void but there wasn't much of a chance for any elaboration before Wels darted off to play nurse in shining armor.

Even with the heads up, Tango would have probably been the most concerned about the members of Boatem. Pearl had swum to the top of her half-drained pod and was floating on her back, legs pressed up against the glass and watching the room upside down seemingly giggling at random. Scar seemed entirely unperturbed and unphased as he waited for his pod to drain, not that he was paying any attention to the rest of the group. Instead, he was sitting cattywampus on the floor of his pod, legs stretched out in front of him, cooing at Jelly who was batting ineffectually at his fingers through the glass. Mumbo on the other hand was standing straight up in the dead center of his pod, nervously running his hands through his hair and avoiding all eye contact despite the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop glancing around at all the people in the room with the exception of Grian. Speaking of Grian, he was also standing in the center of his pod, blank and expressionless, seemingly staring through everything but still watching it all. It was rather eerie and reminded Tango uncomfortably of how Grian had been when he had first joined their merry band of misfits. Still, that was a problem for another time and quite possibly another bunch of hermits. Tango was going to have his hands full as it was, trying to help Zed who was still staring out the window; and that didn’t even account for Impulse.

Out of everyone, it was Impulse who was concerning Tango the most not that he could put his finger on what exactly was sending up the alarm bells. He didn’t look worse off than anyone else in Boatem sitting as he was on the far side of his pod. His buddy was slouched slightly with his back against the glass and one arm loosely resting on a bent knee. From where he was across the room, it was impossible to make out any sort of expression on Impulse’s face but from how it rested against the glass, turned upwards and eyes closed it was probably safe to assume that there wasn’t one.

Tango frowned slightly, as he made eye contact with Jevin and gestured over at Impulse. Jevin thankfully, got the picture and after a moment put his hands together on one side of his tilted head in a pantomime of sleep. Tango let out a sigh of relief but his worry did not abate and he continued to stare. While he wanted his buddy to get some much-needed rest, really Mumbo how was sleep deprivation supposed to help prevent Moon Big at all, Devs sometimes Boatem made him despair, something was still wrong. Something just… felt off. He could feel it in his bones, as Impulse would say. Still, he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was.

Another puff of condensation due to the release of pressurized air floated through the room. Another Hermit’s pod had finished equalizing. Probably Cub? Tango glanced over, and yep, that was definitely Cub, sharp teeth, tattered wings and overly blue eyes and all, moving as if he was expecting there to be simultaneously more and less gravity than there actually was. That was certainly interesting. Hadn’t Cub also attempted to escape Moon-fall by going to space? Thoughts wandering, Tango jumped when his gaze returned to Impulse only to find one cracked eye blearily peering at him.

Tango couldn’t help himself as he threw his arms up and cheered, “IMPULSE! Hey! There you are!”

There was no response, not that Tango had expected one. He knew Impulse wouldn’t be able to hear him but still a wave or something would have been nice. His arms fell as Impulse continued to stare, not at him but through him, before the heavily lidded eyelid slid shut.

“Impy?” Tango said, mainly for his own benifit.

Both eyes opened this time. Had he not been so worried, Tango would have lost it laughing. Trust Impulse’s hatred of that nickname to cause a reaction even when the other couldn’t hear it. Tango didn’t relish the hilarity of that for very long however, as Impulse’s head dropped ever so slightly, the lights of the room hitting at exactly the right angle for him to catch an unobstructed view of eyeshine from not normally yellow glassy eyes.

Oh.

That.

That was bad.

That was so very very bad.

“Impy?” he tried again mentally cursing the slowness of the tube’s equalization cycle, as he caught his buddy's gaze.

One eye closed, followed by the other before opening again, one after the other in a strange facsimile of a blink. That was weird, even by his standards and the feeling that something was wrong only grew. But Hey! He definitely, somehow, had Impulse’s attention. Because that? That was a response. It had to be. Tango watched as Impulse blinked, once more, this time a lot closer together and looking a lot more like normal. Progress!

“C’mon Impy!” Tango crooned. He’d take Impulse being annoyed with him if he could actually get a coherent response. “Up an attem buddy! You can do it!”

Impulse could not in fact do it, and Tango watched in horror as Impulse’s eyes closed and he listed sideways, sliding down the glass and smashing his face on the floor of his pod.

And

        Tango’s

                       Vision

      goes

                                   WHITE

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

My birthday was full of unexpected interactions

[noxtivagus]

random thought usually i kin characters that i love the most or characters i rather hate in a way (hate is too strong of a word though hmm)

[mv1simp]

Into It ♥️ Part 1 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

i'm into it, yeah, says she wanna fuck me later, girl i'm into it

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut but this time with some plot lol, reader essentially is just trying whatever tactic she can to seduce her bf and make mad max come out in bed, size kink, dom/sub elements, 4k WC

PART TWO HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

You look up blissfully at your boyfriend, Max, from where you’re tucked into his side, his strong arm scooping you against him and keeping you warm. You’re rewatching an old classic, Shrek 2, as you wind down from your dinner plans with your friends earlier than evening. Lando and Daniel had joined as well, teasing you and Max mercilessly about how you two were finally together and that the whole F1 grid had been placing bets on when you would make it official.

You had flushed in a combination of embarrassment and giddiness, unable to hold back a matching laugh with Max who had looked over at you with an adoring gaze, his own heart warm with happiness about finally being able to call you his own. You two had run in the same Monaco circles for years - with him as a driver and you on the McLaren legal team. Though initially you only saw glimpses of him through paddock interviews or social media posts celebrating his multiple winning streaks, the two of you had become a lot closer the past couple years through his friendship with Daniel and Lando. Soon enough you were joining them at weekly Padel sessions, leading to you and Max exchanging funny cat memes or popping online to decimate him and Lando on a Call of Duty stream and then eventually onto deeper conversations, from his latest breakups with his model girlfriends or quiet ramblings with a bottle of wine outside a booming party about the pressures of demanding fathers.

Of course, tongues were wagging anytime you two were seen together - especially when Max had his first time in years being single for months before you had gotten together. You couldn’t deny that you had always thought the older Dutch man was incredibly handsome and funny, always full of interesting facts about niche topics, and you found his intensity and passion for his racing career so attractive, as a high powered professional yourself as a lawyer for a luxury car brand’s executive board. But you had always curbed any growing feelings you had for Max, paranoid that it would compromise the strong friendship you two had developed. Besides, given his affliction for dating vogue models, and his respectful gazes or polite touches compared to the much more flirtier ones from other drivers on the grid, you had never thought max considered you attractive.

But somehow, despite both your busy schedules, despite max being across the globe, you always ended up calling each other first to share sad, happy, or even just boring news. You had never once imagined that after winning his most recent championship the first person he came looking for in his celebrations that night was you, his face flushes from champagne and hugging you tightly, his eyes shining with warmth as he told you he couldn’t have won it without you and suddenly you could no longer deny the rapid palpitations of your heart when you looked up at him. And as he looked at you, thumb gently brushing across your cheeks, warm breaths mingling together as your faces drew closer, he couldn’t deny himself any longer either - Schat, all I’ve been thinking about is what I really wanted for my prize instead of this trophy. Can I kiss you now?

And the rest was history. Fast forward a few months and it’s still so surreal to call Max your boyfriend, you think, as you come back to the present, watching him fondly as he chuckles at the movie. Dating him has been a dream - he’s your first serious relationship, your standards too high to waste time with any of the subpar guys you had gone on first dates with before - and wow, did Max know exactly how to knock all of those standards out of the park. He would always drive and pick you up anywhere you wanted, in his sleek luxury cars that had pedestrians gawping, one large hand on your thigh and asking how your day had been. You had literally stopped taking your wallet out anymore as Max always slammed down his black Amex at any opportunity to pay for you - dinners, trips, jewellery and luxurious shopping sprees - and although the staunch feminist in you had initially disagreed you couldn’t help but feel so cared for, so looked after - knowing all you needed on a night out was one hand around his arm and the other clutching a pretty little Chanel purse he had picked up for you at last month’s race weekend, with a matching Dior lip gloss inside. If you were ever having a hard day at work he would always order your favourite foods straight to your apartment, where he would meet you and bitch and vent alongside you about whichever client had been giving you grief.

And my god, the sex - THE SEX with your man had been absolutely amazing. Considering the difference in your past number of relationships, max was keenly aware that he had a lot more experience than you and was so unbelievably sweet and patient - letting you take all the time you needed to go slow and work up the confidence gradually to ask for what you wanted for him. Your first time together had been incredibly romantic, a night at a private house he had booked out for the week on the Italian coastline. After a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine you found yourself in his lap on the outdoor chaise, soft kisses turning more and more heated, max whispering are you sure, liefje? If you’re not ready-

to which you had cut him off with another deep kiss, pleading for him to make you his once and for all ❤️ His eyes had flickered with a deep intensity at your possessive statement before softening out to adoration again as he gently unlaced your dress and trailed kisses down your body, worshipping you. you’d both cum embarrassingly faster than you’d have liked, high off the feeling of one another, max cleanly finishing inside a condom he threw away before carrying you in his arms to the bedroom inside. Since then, you’d both figured out you had a combined very high sex drive, using every opportunity in your schedules to make love, max never hesitating to always make sure you came first, either on his fingers, tongue or cock. You had the perfect boyfriend. Truly. You couldn’t ask for anything more, yet -

- yet, here you were, feeling like an absolute bitch about the recurrent thoughts that had planted in your mind as you watched max come out of the bathroom freshly showered, getting ready for bed after finishing a gaming stream with his mates following your Shrek 2 viewing. The issue was that your boyfriend - your incredibly hot, sexy, tall Dutch boyfriend - was so stupidly enticing but so oblivious that he has no idea what he did to you. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hair dripping wet, distractingly saying something to you while texting on his phone - but your mind was only fixed on how big and strong Max looked. Your boyfriend was much bigger than you, almost towering over you at 6”1 with your 5”1 frame. His athletic training currently during the season meant he had been looking extra delectable lately, defined abs, thick muscular thighs and a broad shoulder and back that narrowed down to a narrow (or as Lando joked, slutty) waist, highlighted now by the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips that did nothing to hide the sizeable bulge in between his legs. It was undeniable that he was packing, to the point where you had called it his third leg after first seeing him naked, making him laugh but also take even more care everytime he entered you - you were a lot smaller than his previous partners, after all. He always made sure his pace was gentle and slow, avoiding fully entering you too much in worry of causing you pain. Truly, your boyfriend was too sweet - everything he did was to avoid causing your any pain or distress - which is why you felt too embarrassed to ask him directly to be rougher with you when he was simply looking out for your comfort. It has been perfect for you initially, but now you felt more adjusted to his size, and each time you slept together you felt yourself becoming more and more desperate for Max to be just a little bit rougher, a little bit more controlling. What would he think when his usually sweet, happy go lucky girlfriend admitted she actually fantasised about him completely ruining her? So, of course, you being you - an ambitious feminist - have decided to hatch a conniving strategy to seduce your boyfriend into giving it to you just right!! 💕

Starting tonight - you had already planned to spend the night at Max’s, relaxing after the hectic work week you had both had. Often, you wore his comfortable hoodies that dwarfed you and smelt just like him as you cuddled in bed. Instead tonight you wore an angelic pink lace Agent Provocateur nightie, bows and all, pushing your cute tits up on display for him and complimenting your caramel skin perfectly. Enough to drive Max crazy, right? Sitting against the plush pillows, you had been reading one of your steamy dark romance novels - your latest outlet these days while you manifested getting some back breaking sex with Max - but of course had ended up distracted by the sight of your himbo boyfriend emerging from the shower.

-Schat? So what do you think? Max finally looked up from his phone, making you come back to reality and realize you hadn’t been answering his question. Max’s eyes widened seeing your pretty little form on his bed - he had never seen you wear an outfit like that in bed before. He cleared his throat, inconspicuously shifting his stance so you didn’t notice his hard on at the sight of you when you hastily stumbled to reply - Oh sorry maxie, I missed what you were saying, just a bit tired after today

Max immediately came to your side in bed, looking guilty. Of course Schat, sorry, I’m keeping you up with my gaming stream aren’t I? You had such a long week already, we can go straight to bed now. You cursed your own slip up - of course, your sweet Max would put your comfort first over what you were sure looked like mission successful given the rapid hardening of his bulge you had zoned in on.

You try again as Max dims the bedside lamps, taking your book gently away from your hands and setting it to the side. You lean softly in next to him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, tits right up against his hard biceps so that your breasts are basically cushioning his arm right in between them. Your nightie rises up your legs, showcasing your soft, luscious thighs for him. Max smiles lovingly at you, cradling your face before peppering your cheeks with baby kisses. You look so pretty, sweetheart. So sweet to wait for me before falling asleep, mein Schat.

You lean in further, lips pouting in an effort your boyfriend would finally catch the hint but instead you found yourself gently maneouvered and tucked into his side, his large hands rubbing soothing circles along your back as he placed a final kiss on your forehead. Goodnight, darling. Your eye twitched at his definitive words, perplexed at how your plan had been so unsuccessful, but you sighed and wished goodnight to Max, falling asleep and already plotting for another day.

A couple of weeks later you decided to up the ante. A sexy, bold crimson red lingerie teddy set, practically see through and showcasing your tan nipples through the lace and mesh, and a pathetic excuse of some lacy red panties to match. You smirked as you eyed yourself in the mirror - sure, it was quite a forward look, but you had found yourself becoming increasingly more desperate for your boyfriend’s attentions after attending his Monaco race today. You did your best to attend the races you could but with your own demanding schedule often struggled to make it, so were very excited to support your boyfriend this time - especially as you had been keeping track of how this season was difficult compared to earlier years given the poorer quality of the RB car. Your eyes had widened at seeing the events this weekend - a string of bad luck events. First, his engine had stalled during free practise, making him lose precious practise time, and then a red flag had been called as he was finishing an almost perfect qualifying lap, ruining his chances of pole, and finally during the actual race he was clipped on the side by one of the Aston Martin’s, making him spin out but still incredibly go on to get P2. It was amazing result given everything, but what caught your attention was a side of your boyfriend you had only every heard whispers about emerge on the track. In the past, you had only attended races he had easily won, appearing calm and collected throughout the weekends as he cruised to P1 - easily overpowering everyone else. Today though - Mad Max, his fans excitedly cheered and paddock staff gossiped, Mad Max is finally back!! In his villain era!!

And your Max was indeed seething at everyone - competitors, his strategy team, the stewards for not giving Aston Martin a penalty - and you had listened in on the radio to hear him angrily swear and yell to his engineer, seen him aggressively overtake and defend his place on the track, and finally seen the stormy expression on his face as he emerged out of his car, clearly pissed with narrowed eyes as he stalked off to his driver room without a word, not even sparing a glance at you or anyone else. Sure, you should have felt a little hurt that he hadn’t noticed you or seen the perfectly planned designer outfit you had arrived wearing, sending the paparazzi into a flurry, but you completely understood that his career was first on the line today and he needed some time to cool off. And honestly, instead of feeling bad for Max - the sick, twisted part of you couldn’t deny that he had looked sooo sexy completely dominating on the track, authoritatively giving orders over the radio and confidently outmanoeuvring his rivals. You had to catch yourself from biting your lip or squeezing your legs together as his rough accented tones got more and more angry throughout the race over your headphones, imaging what it would be like to be pinned down by his strong arms, to have him lean down behind you and whisper naughty things in your ear, to ask if you liked being a dirty little-

“Oh! Y/N! Can we get a quick word?” The sky sports reporters interruption hastily put an end to the illicit thoughts you had been having. Quickly trying to school your expression into something much more PR friendly, you flashed a dazzling smile, “Of course!”. As expected they tried to rile responses out of you to condemn Max’s aggressive performance. But you had stood for none of it, honestly and clearly stating that your boyfriend had driven very capably and fairly given the circumstances and you were extremely impressed with his performance. “He’s a triple world champion after all. Did you just expect him to roll over and not defend his title? If you don’t agree with it then no need to watch it. At the end of the day he’s the one driving the car over the finish line while everyone else is speculating hypotheticals.” The reporters thank you for your input, stumbling for words at your strong defence of your boyfriend. You wandered off before they could say more, catching up with Max a couple hours later when he had debriefed and collected his trophy, looking a lot more chilled out than earlier.

Hey, Schatje he mumbled gently, leaning down to kiss you on the lips after pulling you from a conversation with the other WAGs. Max! you had exclaimed brightly, congratulating him on his win and letting him know just how proud you were of him. You knew he would be tired - we could go to the red bull celebration yacht party for 30min, show our faces, and then play hooky back to ours? I already put in a dinner order for your favourite lamb kebabs.

Max smiled down at you - you knew him so well, always knew what to say and when he wanted to relax. Sounds amazing, Schat he voiced in agreement. Later, after eating dinner at home, Lando sent him a trending insta reel with the caption “Mate, she’s too good to you, you bagged a queen.” Max grinned, expecting some fanmade memes about you and him as he clicked the link (he has seen all the Queen Y/N and he’s just…Ken Max tweets already. You were a well liked figure on the paddock for years with your well mannered speech, excellent dress style and courteous relationships with most of the staff.)

He was suprised to instead see an interview post race of you defending him staunchly, shutting down any opportunity the reporters used to manipulate your words. He walked into his bedroom to find you conveniently waiting for him in bed again, nose buried in one of your romance models, and started laughing at how effective you were at putting the media clowns in their place. Thanks for sticking up for me always, liefje. You smiled back at him with pure adoration - of course Maxie, that’s the advantage of dating a lawyer, right?

He agreed enthusiastically, so caught up on now yapping about the race as he climbed into bed with you that he didn’t even notice the sexy little outfit you had planned just for him, covering you up with his soft duvet before you could properly twirl around and showcase it for him. Your eye twitched again as he yawned in between statements, grabbing your waist and bringing your back in against him, spooning you while his voice gently trailed off, falling asleep.

Meanwhile, your mind was running at 100 miles a minute, a scowl on your face. This was ridiculous, you had gotten all dressed up in an overpriced beautiful outfit just for your boyfriend to get distracted by a 3min interview you had done with an asshole reporter and then fall asleep instead of ravaging you?? You had tonight would be the perfect night, for you to be the one to support him for once, be the perfect outlet for his stress, to use you and manipulate your body for his own pleasure…heat pooled in your gut at your dark thoughts, and you grow wetter between your legs at the mental image of max having his way with you. Maybe it still wasn’t too late. Sighing gently, you closed your eyes, pretending to drift into sleep but moving your plump, barely covered ass behind you to gently grind up on your boyfriend’s cock, which was now rapidly hardening with your practised movements. You sensed Max had awakened when you felt his arms tighten around you, keeping you still in an effort to stop you from exciting him to much while you were still asleep and he couldn’t act on it.

Mmmhmm, maxie, feels so good~ you moaned, still keeping up the facade of having a wet dream, breathing getting heavier and pushing your tits against the edges of his fingers that were wrapped around your waist. You felt him exhale sharply as he came into contact with your hardened nipples, a smirk on your face. Your grinding had managed to push the duvet partially off, exposing your red lingerie in the moonlight - surely this would be enough to drive any man crazy!!

You heard him sigh behind you, shifting slightly and inadvertently pushing his cock against your skimpy underwear as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck - and you had to hold back a squeal with how hard and big he felt against you, this was it, he was finally going to give in and fuck you awake while he thought you were having a wet dream, he could slide it right in, you were ready for it, for him, you were soo wet already just from imagining it, this was so hot-

Your fantasies are quickly shut down as max easily used his strength to turn you around so your face was buried into his chest again, your ass now devastatingly much too far away to get any action, and began rubbing your shoulders soothingly to get you to fall into a deep sleep again. You almost combusted at the action before deflating and accepting defeat once more. Your kind boyfriend of course would never toe the line of having sex with you in a dubious way were you were asleep. You wanted - no needed, to bring Mad Max out in your bedroom, and you were determined to do whatever it took.

Over the next few weeks you threw countless strategies Max’s way. Leaving your dirty romance books out in plain view, sometimes even opened up to a page right in the middle of a jaw dropping sex scene. Lacier and lacier bralettes and panties left everywhere to prompt him. “Accidentally” deleting his best SIM race time record on his rig. But nothing seemed to be working - max diligently tidyed up the stray underwear, reshelved the books, and generously forgave you for the SIM error before setting a new record later that night instead of fucking you angrily like you had planned. You got more frustrated as both your work schedules became busier, leaving you less time to connect with him. Fuck, last weekend - last weekend you had even thrown out all your boxes of condoms before jumping into Max’s arms when he had come home, laughing and eager to see you. One thing let to another and he was as eager to be inside you as you were to have him inside you, voicing It’s been too long Schat, I’ve missed your sweet body so much, so beautiful for me in between kisses as he reached for the bedstand drawer to grab a condom - only to find it empty. You pretended to have a confused look on your face (truly, you deserved an Oscar for your performance this past month) before oh so innocently suggesting Maxie, we- we don’t have to use one if you don’t want, I’m on the pill -

And there it was - a brief darkening of your boyfriends’ normally loving ice blue eyes, his sharp gaze on you at your suggestion of doing it raw for the first time - before he schooled his features back to normal and gave you a sweet kiss, It’s okay Schat, you’re too sweet, you don’t deserve to feel uncomfortable for my sake, I’ll just grab some from the corner store, da? He was off you before you could protest, promising he would be back soon as you blinked away tears of frustration and denial that yet again your plan had failed. When he finally entered you later that night, ever so gently, condom and all, you closed your eyes tight and imagined how each vein and ridge of his thick cock might feel when fully buried inside you to the hilt, if that goddamn condom broke, if he spilled all of his thick, creamy cum inside you, so much that it spurted out the sides, leaking everywhere, claiming you as his and no one else’s, making such a filthy, filthy mess-

- you came harder than you had the whole month, burying your face in Max’s shoulder to contain the scream that threatened to spill out. You sighed as you came down from your high. Fuck, you needed a drink.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Follow along for Part 2 of this 3 part series to see if dear reader will finally manage to uncockblock herself and release Mad Max!! 😚😚

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil��� like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[palajae]

my name. | nishimura riki

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader

GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WC ▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead. 

AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...

wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️

a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.

you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate? 

you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his- 

the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open.  you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default. 

it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete. 

you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside. 

it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible. 

you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn. 

not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you. 

you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world. 

that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today. 

you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right? 

though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”

it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you. 

“you okay, y/n?” 

you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that? 

but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”

they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever. 

you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less. 

the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. 

the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen. 

after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train.  although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere. 

you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway. 

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once. 

so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown, 

wait a second-

something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?

you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well. 

you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you. 

you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—

have you met before?

you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform. 

a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings. 

his only response is a blink.  

it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment. 

you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it. 

“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…” 

you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop. 

that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.  

“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes. 

“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”

your mouth drops open. 

“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands. 

the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively. 

“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“

you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-” 

again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away. 

the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”

his next words make your blood run cold. 

“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists. 

“who are you? and why do you look just-?”

“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”  

you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction. 

it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting. 

he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense. 

his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.” 

“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“

“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.” 

before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off. 

you can call me niki, his words echo in your head. 

his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—

you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision. 

all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong. 

you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t. 

to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t. 

and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was. 

things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on. 

following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast. 

It wasn’t physically possible. 

you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died. 

niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.

niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you. 

“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes. 

“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”

he raises his eyebrows. 

“me? explain?” 

you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“

“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes. 

“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples. 

“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”

he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore. 

“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you. 

the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.

his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.” 

you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”

“yeah. are you?” 

“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.  

you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform. 

“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”

his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter?  that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”

he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.

“obviously not, because that’s dumb.” 

you scoff. 

“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“ 

he glances at you and you tense,  

“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters. 

you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”

there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.” 

you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around? 

he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.” 

the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place.   except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in. 

“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces. 

“i know. there were police here for days.” 

you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when? 

you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened? 

“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth. 

soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away. 

“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door. 

you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books. 

you pause, “yearbooks?“

he nods, “yeah, our school’s.” 

strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home. 

but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page. 

“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.

“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...” 

you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name, 

nish—

he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones- 

ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you. 

just like niki. you were actually speechless. 

eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches. 

“no way—” 

“—and there’s you.” 

it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you. 

almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo. 

according to niki, this you is dead? 

you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on? 

the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?” 

you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“

he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.” 

you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer, 

“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”

you don’t know what to say. 

could it actually be?

what other explanation could there be? 

“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—” 

you do air quotations, 

“—switch dimensions to another world?” 

niki shrugs, “no idea.”

he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”

his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”

you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?” 

“what?” 

you glance at him questioningly, “what?”

niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”

you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath. 

“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”

you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.” 

“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.

“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.” 

“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation. 

“well, it actually happened last thursday.”

you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up? 

“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance, 

“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.” 

at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise. 

at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in. 

you? 

a suicide at school? 

what about your family, your friends-

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head.  “i… i would never-“

you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”

his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“ 

unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.  

that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-

was just a stranger to him. 

yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits. 

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression. 

“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.

“are you sure that i-i did it?”

you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs, 

“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got. 

your face hardens. 

“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?” 

his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.

“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?” 

something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.

even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”

despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you. 

you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”

he stiffens, “what?” 

you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.” 

you need to. for yourself. 

niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“

“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”

he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”

you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.” 

he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him. 

“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door 

“wait! you’re being serious?!” 

his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”

“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.

you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”

he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.

“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”

“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.  annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.

“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”

“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.” 

niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe. 

“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand, 

“miss imposter.” 

you take it gladly, harshly.  “don’t call me that-“

“my name is y/n y/l/n.” 

you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.” 

to which you almost punched him. 

but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful. 

“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.” 

“what about clothes and toiletries?”

he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.” 

you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here. 

a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?” 

“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.

“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”

you hold back a laugh at the words. 

clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle. 

“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?” 

“apparently a horrible one,” you snort. 

after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation. 

“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”

“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow. 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay,  smartass. then how do we get in?” 

“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.” 

“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him. 

the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort. 

niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard. 

obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness.  you wondered if they were staying with other family. 

or were they at work? so soon after your death? 

you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.

the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.  

you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall 

you glance down at niki. 

“can you make it?”

he scoffs,  

“easy.” 

it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point. 

you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down. 

you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”

“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”

“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.

niki’s eyes widen. 

“be careful, y/n.” 

“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion. 

without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you. 

your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open. 

“you got it?” 

“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window. 

finally, you can breathe. 

it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation. 

after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room. 

all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you. 

a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. 

at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room.  not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,

“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”

he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”

“oh.”

the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”

he nods and begins to snoop around.  

“wait,” you call out hesitantly. 

niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.

“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.” 

he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.” 

you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.  

you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-

“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face. 

you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?  

niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen- 

wait a second, 

your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things? 

you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t. 

“don’t!” 

his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view. 

“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows. 

“no? am i not supposed-“

“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”

you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.

he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile. 

“you can proceed!” 

he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one. 

you pull out… 

a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room? 

and even more so, why was it hidden? 

niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open. 

“a box of chocolates?“ 

he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”

“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter. 

niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance. 

“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?” 

he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”

you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind. 

after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious— 

like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different. 

just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be. 

“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”

niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.” 

you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one. 

“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.  

“what day and time is it, currently?” 

“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”

“when does the police station close?”

dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?

luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.  

niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“

his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”

you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”

you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“

you grin. “onwards, then.”

“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”

he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”

“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.

he nods. 

“illegally?”

he nods again.

you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?” 

he shrugs, “probably.”

“good thing i’m not from this world.”

perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.

“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft. 

you gulp, “i guess i should.”

you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead. 

you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.

“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice. 

niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.

“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.

“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”

you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.” 

“then what?” 

you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.” 

you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-

it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-

you squint.

the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-

your thoughts are interrupted by niki. 

“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”

he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone. 

but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.

“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.

“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests

you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day. 

“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”

he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”

you nod, “okay.”

it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead. 

were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops? 

more like, if anyone cared? 

while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

yes, you affirm, you’re alive. 

you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts. 

but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink. 

everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-

a knock on the door makes you jump.

“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“

the door swings open.

you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.

“goodnight, niki.” 

you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks, 

“night, y/n.” 

it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore. 

you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights. 

in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.

you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.

“niki?” you say quietly.

another shuffle. 

“yeah?”

“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”

there’s a pause. 

“about you?”

“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”

niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”

you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter. 

“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts. 

you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face. 

the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you. 

especially about what you said.

niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.

he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused. 

why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it. 

meanwhile, you stayed at his home.

thinking. 

thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead. 

you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously. 

you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki. 

you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.

however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”

he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”

you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further. 

“you must’ve been bored without me.” 

that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so).  sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.” 

but you knew he was right and he knew it too. 

“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown. 

“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…” 

“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.” 

you nod, “that’s good.” 

“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”

you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday. 

“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”

you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look. 

“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?” 

niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.” 

instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof. 

“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step. 

“step? as in, my case?

“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”

you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were. 

“okay—shoot.”

what was the worse thing he could suggest?

“we should sneak you into school-“

your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?” 

niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did. 

“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”

“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker? 

“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.” 

you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.

“fine.” 

niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,

“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?

he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“ 

confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about? 

“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket. 

you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.

you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly. 

“you’re actually being smart...” 

his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation. 

you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?” 

he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…

“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.” 

“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly. 

niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?” 

you falter. “huh? it isn’t?” 

he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.” 

you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.

“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”

turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice. 

niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger. 

meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair. 

you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him. 

on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.

he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms. 

instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart. 

after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head. 

“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.” 

please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort. 

you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself.  “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“

you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways. 

“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.

he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.” 

he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect. 

niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.

with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal? 

normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends. 

on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive? 

“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes. 

“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?” 

“am i actually loaded in this world?” 

niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“ 

you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know. 

“how much are you talking?” 

he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“

you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed. 

“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.” 

you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?” 

he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace? 

“what?” 

you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are? 

“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?” 

then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?” 

you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…” 

suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide.  panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—

straight into the locker. 

your own locker. 

you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime? 

in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise. 

no way. park sunghoon was in this world too? 

you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?” 

really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out. 

“sorry. that was me, pres.” 

it was niki’s voice. 

you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon. 

“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily. 

sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.” 

niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.” 

“alright, see you later.” 

you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave. 

but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker. 

your heart rate picks up. did he notice you? 

however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back. 

you frown—what was that? 

after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms. 

“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself. 

“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.

“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”

“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.” 

“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“

“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off. 

you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed. 

everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace. 

you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”

one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace? 

“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.” 

you sigh. next time. 

it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it. 

the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice. 

tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis. 

niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven. 

niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused. 

he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“

all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door. 

“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“

the door handle begins to turn.

you and niki share a look of panic. 

your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath. 

“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume. 

“nope. just me.” 

you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was. 

“it was just probably the video i was playing.” 

“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her. 

you let out an exhale of relief. 

“y/n?” you hear soon after. 

“under here.” 

you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed. 

you meet his curious eyes. cute. 

“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off. 

“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”

“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“

“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it. 

“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 

he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp. 

you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours. 

niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead. 

is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat? 

niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere. 

“so, uh, i had an idea.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”

“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point. 

“you got the charger, right?”

niki nods, taking it out of his pocket. 

it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end. 

when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing. 

“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.” 

“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.” 

you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger. 

“okay. now we wait.” 

niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”

he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”

you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id. 

as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth. 

“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”

you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it. 

“oh my god.” 

“don’t even-“

“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”

you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” 

niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”

you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.” 

niki notices the sour expression on your face. 

“oh. you don’t like him?”

you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”

you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him. 

besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words. 

“good to know.” 

“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.

but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace? 

and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind. 

“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully. 

“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”

“well, i’ve got a task for you.” 

niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public. 

he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them. 

and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you. 

danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”

“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”

haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.” 

she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears. 

niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it. 

you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing. 

everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died. 

the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone. 

you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness. 

you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name. 

“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side. 

his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. 

what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion. 

“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind. 

“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace. 

“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice. 

his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world. 

he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again. 

niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep. 

you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before. 

somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table. 

11 am. niki must be at school still, you note. 

you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass? 

niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay. 

when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk. 

went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me. 

niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud. 

he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day. 

he’s scared. 

niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure. 

he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.

tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected. 

you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall. 

you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.

niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged. 

then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.” 

he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.” 

you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

“okay,” niki repeats. 

it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.

suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain. 

the rain doesn’t stop. 

and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly. 

“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly. 

“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.” 

“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically. 

he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self. 

“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”

“but-“

“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.” 

you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“

niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”

a challenge was a challenge. 

you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun. 

“just so you know, i technically won.” 

you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“

you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified. 

niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”

“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout. 

“what do you want to eat?”

“anything. i’m serious.” 

niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food. 

“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”

you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly. 

“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze. 

“how’s this one?”

you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.

“i think this one fits you more.”

as he grumbles, you laugh. 

“fine, but i get to choose yours.” 

he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”

you splutter, “but that means-“

“yes. i’m the princess.”

“obviously,” he adds. 

in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow. 

“i’ve never done this before, so…"

instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes. 

“what now?”

niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”

you’re at a loss for words. 

niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”

“o-okay.”

you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.  

“hey, this photo came out good!”

“but what happened to the first one?”

you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek. 

it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way. 

it was something you had never felt before. 

“..-y/n?”

“huh?” you snap out of your trance.

“i said, you can keep this copy.” 

you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“

“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay. 

you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off. 

on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.

“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”

“whatever you say, mr. responsible.” 

he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.

that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events. 

“niki?”

you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”

“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”

“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”

“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”

“what? what do you mean?” 

even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you. 

“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”

“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.

“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”

niki grimaces. 

“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”

“nope. what are they like?” 

he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”

“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.” 

you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps. 

now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking. 

your specialty. 

niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart. 

as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed. 

and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers. 

that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it. 

you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn. 

“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”

you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”

“what were you doing on my phone?”

you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you. 

“oh, and?” 

you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face. 

that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone. 

you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-

it was so close.

the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night. 

he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”

you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?” 

he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.

and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.

it was time to confront the truth.

you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted. 

this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it. 

you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor. 

you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it. 

and hearts next to sunghoon’s face. 

horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth. 

during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up? 

just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts. 

and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar. 

he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops. 

you sit on the floor next to the lockers  with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care. 

the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket. 

you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been. 

“y/n!” 

great, now you were hearing things as well? 

furious footsteps stomp towards you.

“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”

“n-niki?” your eyes widen. 

before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet. 

“why would you come to school without me?”

for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?” 

he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“

“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“

a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”

you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction. 

he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium? 

“why are we-“

“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”

after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence. 

niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”

you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!” 

“you don’t understand,” his voice raises,  and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him. 

“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”

at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down. 

“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter. 

you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life, 

you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you. 

and this was the first time you felt wanted. 

you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him. 

when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.

without a second thought, niki pushes you. 

he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—

straight into the pool. 

your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later. 

he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago. 

you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air. 

after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air. 

“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”  

you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”

he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”

you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.” 

“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”

after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part. 

growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”

you thank him and he looks around awkwardly. 

“what is it?” you squint at him. 

“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”

you soften, eyes falling to the floor. 

“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.” 

you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can. 

niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”

“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”

“w-what? but how?”

you shake your head. he goes to hug you. 

you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face. 

“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.” 

niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”

he wonders why you say you and not we.

at that, you falter. 

“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.” 

niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”

you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.” 

it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home. 

“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes. 

and he looks back at you with pained ones. 

niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in. 

the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.

it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway. 

you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.” 

the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were. 

you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears. 

“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.” 

he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.” 

if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world. 

“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper. 

“how will you even get back home?”

you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”

niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”

as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky. 

the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket. 

you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.

while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”

your body trembles, “i don’t know.”

“then… will i ever see you again?”

you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry. 

yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”

niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already. 

“this is it,” he says. 

but neither of you move. 

“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces. 

“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.” 

you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.

“i promise i’ll find you again.” 

he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.

crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one. 

you never knew niki’s name.

and then everything fades into nothing. 

that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go. 

then, you’re gone. 

in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together. 

all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting. 

but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore. 

and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers. 

you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform. 

niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second. 

when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there. 

he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing. 

after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time. 

when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved. 

and then he’s free.

epilogue...

you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that. 

there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy. 

ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.

even after graduating, it never left you. 

you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto. 

“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in. 

they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.  

you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”

he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled. 

“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize. 

“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”

you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.  

“me?”

he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile. 

“my name is nishimura riki.”

first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!

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[avis-writeshq]

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, roommate au warnings: reader is a pretty girl (YOU ARE A PRETTY GIRL !!!!!!) and she wears dresses !! feelings of inadequacy (aka, it’s so hard to find good guys now ☹️☹️☹️) she’s also taking her master’s degree at Georgetown  a/n: i love roommate reader so much guys !!! give me a million requests for them; i will write it ‼️🫶 wc: 936 part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3

“Date?” Spencer asks despite his knowing, watching as you wrap a cardigan over your shoulders and fix the bracelet on your wrist.

He’s not in denial about how pretty you are. He remembers it, even back when the two of you were younger. Everyone loved you– following you around the playground and doing whatever you ask of them. You’re the sun, he accepted on a hot summer’s day, drowsy from the heatwave while you ate a bright orange popsicle beside him. You’re the sun and I’m one of the planets you allow to be near you. 

He’s not entirely surprised either when he sees you again, as beautiful as he remembered, surrounded by people of all genders with starstruck gazes, all enchanted by your brilliant smile and embellished words. He’s not surprised either when you receive so many propositions of romance. A little jealous, maybe, because sometimes he wishes that you would share an ounce of your sparkle with him. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a soft smile, fixing your shoes. “Going out for dinner. I’ll be home a little late, so don’t wait up, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, fiddling with the ends of his hair. “You’ll call me, right? If you need anything.”

Your smile widens and you nod. “Of course I will. Thanks, Walter, you’re the best.”

His cheeks glow warm at his middle name and he clears her throat. “Good night.”

“Good night!”

Then you’re gone. He doesn’t hear the way you return back to the apartment hours later but earlier than anticipated, or the way you dump your bags at the doorway instead of putting them away in your room as you usually do. He doesn’t notice the way the shower runs longer than usual, or the opening and shutting of the freezer door or the clanging of metal spoons. He wishes he did.

*** 

“I give up.” You grip the phone against your ear tighter, your gaze dark with frustration. “Hah, you’re on to talk! You’re getting married in November! Yeah, well, it doesn’t help. I hear enough of that from everyone. Bye.”

Spencer flinches at the harshness of your tone. He’s even more concerned at your initial words. You’re giving up on something? You’ve never given up on anything. That’s one of your biggest charms; you know exactly what you want and you’ll do anything to get it. Giving up is simply not in your vocabulary. Except for now, he supposes. 

“I am so– so  sick of this,” You huff, slumping onto the couch beside him, hugging a Tuxedo Sam plush toy that he bought you for your birthday a few years ago. “This is so stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Spencer asks cautiously, placing his book down and turning to you.

“Paget is getting married in November,” you say, half happy but half sullen. 

He nods, perplexed. He knows all about the wedding, especially since you’ve come home after shopping for dresses and decided to get his opinions on all of them. “You’ve been looking forward to it since the beginning of the year.”

“I know,” you insist, frowning. “And I am excited! But lately she’s been pressing me to bring someone as a plus one and when I said that I’d invite one of my friends in my class, she insisted that this is a brilliant time to invite a boyfriend. And she keeps sending me off on blind dates lately and I’m just ugh!”

Spencer pats your shoulder in an effort to be sympathetic. “They haven’t been going well?”

“They suck,” You grumble. “Rude, stupid, inconsiderate– the list goes on and I am sick and tired of being treated like an idiot on every date I go on.”

“I see.”

“I know what I want,” you continue, squeezing the plush toy in your lap. “I see it all the time. With my friends and the people I care about. I know how I want to be loved; I know how I deserve to be loved. I just don’t understand why it’s so difficult to find someone who would love me the way I deserve to be. And I see all these people falling in love and getting married and having these wonderful relationships, I can’t help but wonder if I did something to be so unlikeable.”

“You’re not unlikeable,” Spencer says immediately, frowning. How can you say something like that? “You’re the most likable person I know. There’s just a lot that you’re not willing to put up with, things that a lot of men do that you don’t want to put up with, and they can’t understand that.”

He relishes the way you smile, smaller than your usual ones, before leaning your head onto his shoulder. His heart leaps into his throat at the contact, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. He doesn’t understand how someone could ever dislike you– you and your brilliant smiles and your sweet disposition. 

“There’s an old Buddhist saying,” he begins slowly, watching as you take to drawing circles against the back of his palm, “that the act of bringing you and your soulmate together was 500 years in the making. So you’ll find someone. Or maybe you’ve already met them.”

“You’re lovely,” you murmur, drawing a heart then a series of squiggles onto his hand. 

His cheeks glow hot. “I could say the same for you.”

He thinks of the letters he’s written for you but never sent, all stored neatly in a box. There’s one envelope that sticks out from the rest– your favourite colour with a heart wax seal. He decides against giving it to you for the thousandth time.

reblogs are always appreciated !!

part 1 | you are on part 2! | part 3

[kjsfandoms]

Lust and Love

Eddie Munson x Reader

Description: Eddie is dating the girl he's been pinning over for years- Chrissy Cunningham. What happens when a new girl enters his life?

Word Count: 3k

--------

Chrissy and Eddie have been dating for a good few months now and they both truly are happy. Eddie had been crushing on her since their middle school talent show and was insanely surprised when she came to him to buy drugs. The Chrissy Cunningham High buying drugs from him? He couldn’t believe it. 

Not long after their first deal, Chrissy started to realize that she really enjoyed Eddie’s company. One thing led to another and soon enough the freak of Hawkins High was dating the queen of Hawkins High.

Though they were dating and loved spending time together they still always made sure to have time for their friends. Hence why Eddie still sits at the hellfire table for lunch (also totally not because the majority of the popular kids hate him). 

One day during lunch as Eddie is sitting at the front of the table, munching on his pretzels, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike join him. “Hey, fellas.” Eddie says as the boys start eating their unpleasantly looking school lunch. They talk about DND for a good minute until Dustin turns around mid-conversation when he notices Y/N sit down at the table next to theirs.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey there, Dustin.” Y/N replies as she takes off her headphones and gives him a friendly smile. Mike and Lucas then notice her as well and say their hellos. Eddie looks back and forth between the boys and this girl, Y/N. He takes in her appearance and notices the eyeliner, dark denim jeans, and the loosely hung Black Sabbath t-shirt. How the hell did these boys know this girl and why has he never seen her around?

She turns back to her own table and puts her headphones back on. He can briefly hear Judas Priest coming through them before being interrupted by Gareth sharing some more DND ideas.

— 

After school he walks Chrissy to her cheer practice before heading over to the drama room to set up for the upcoming hellfire session tonight. In there he spots Dustin who is also usually there sometimes to help Eddie set up. “Hey, man.” Eddie greets. “Hey, Eddie. I already set up everyone’s character sheets.” “Thanks, Henderson.”

As Eddie and Dustin continue to set up, the question from earlier still lingers on Eddie’s mind. Who was that girl? ‘Might as well ask’, he thinks to himself.

“Henderson, who was that girl you guys were saying hi to at lunch?”

“Oh, Y/N? We’ve known her for a few years now. She’s friends with Jonathan Byers so we met her by association. She’s really cool though. I’m surprised you guys have never met considering you have a lot in common. But why do you ask?” Dustin says as he pulls out some dice.

“Was just curious. Never seen her around.”

“Yeah, she can be more on the quiet and loner side, but she’s great when you get to know her.”

—

Hellfire went pretty good as Eddie had been playing that campaign for weeks now. The boys and Erica have already left by now, but he stayed back to clean up. As he’s putting away their chairs he hears the drama room doors open. In walks her. Y/N.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, didn’t know you guys were doing hellfire today. I’m just setting some things up for the talent show this weekend.” She says. That’s when Eddie notices her carrying two guitars and an amp. “Don’t worry, you’re all good. Just cleaning up. You want some help with that?” “Please,” she says with a breathy laugh, “carrying these all at once is not easy.” “Oh, trust me I know. I play in a band.” He says as he walks over to take the amp out of her arm.

They walk to the stage and as Eddie plugs in the amp Y/N sets up the guitars. Wanting to break the silence, Y/N asks, “So, you’re in a band. What do you play?” “Guitar. I also help write some of our songs.” Y/N looks up at him with a smile and says, “No way! I also play guitar and write songs. Though, it’s just for fun. I’m not in a band or anything.” Eddie looks shocked at this. He’s never met a girl that’s been into music like this, not to mention music that he likes. “That’s sick! Think I could hear one of your songs one day?” “Only if I get to hear one of yours.”

Continuing their conversation, they’re eventually interrupted when the drama doors open once again, this time revealing Chrissy. “Hey, babe!” Chrissy cheers and she walks over to give Eddie a hug. “Hey, Chris. How was practice?” Y/N watches as the obvious couple interact, slightly disappointed in the fact that he has a girlfriend. But Y/N isn’t the one to overstep boundaries and disrespect someone’s relationship, so she pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind. 

“Bye, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” Y/N says with a smile as she starts to leave. 

“You too, Y/N.”

—

It's been a few weeks since the first interaction, but over those few weeks the two have created a friendship. They hang out every now and then, Eddie sharing his time between Y/N, Chrissy, and his hellfire friends.

This day in particular, Y/N and Eddie finally decided to act upon the deal they made when they first met, which was to hear each other's music. Eddie invited her over, but Y/N declined. She thought it’d be rude to hang out one on one with a man who is in a relationship inside his own home. Eddie understood where she was coming from, but assured her Chrissy knew. Still, she stuck to her word and the two agreed to meet up in the drama room after school instead.

“So, you wanna go first?” Y/N asks as the both of them sit criss cross on the stage floor, both holding guitars in their lap. “Why not.” Eddie replies as he takes his guitar pick off his neck and starts strumming. He opted to playing a more simple rock song of his rather than metal as he thought it’d be way too extra. When it came down to Y/N’s turn, she stuck to more of one of her indie-rock songs. 

“You’re better than I thought you’d be.” Eddie says with a playful grin.

 “Same for you, Munson.” 

“I’d like to state for the record, that was an easy song I played. I’m usually ten times more metal.” He says with a slight smirk, “You should really come watch me and my band play some time. We perform at the Hideout on Tuesdays. Maybe you could even perform one of your songs.”

“I’d love to watch you guys play, but as for me performing, hard pass. I’d rather stick to putting on a show for my stuffed animals rather than real people.” Y/N replies with a smile and small laugh.

“Oh, come on! I’ll be there to cheer you on. I bet your stuffed animals can’t do that.”

Y/N let out a dramatic playful gasp and jokingly says, “What?! Peter the pig always makes sure to give me a round-of-applause.” The two share a laugh and Eddie replies, “Fine. You can stick to your stuffed animal crowd. As for me, I can pick you up around seven after I pick up Chrissy, if that’s fine with you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

—

Tuesday comes around and Y/N is patiently waiting on her couch for Eddie. She eventually hears loud heavy rock music coming from outside and takes that as her cue to grab her things, not forgetting her guitar. Even though she said she didn't want to perform, she decided she wanted to surprise Eddie tonight by performing a new song of hers.

She runs outside and slides open the van door and greets Eddie and Chrissy as she goes to sit in the back. Soon enough they’re there and Eddie is parking the van. “I’m just gonna go help the boys set up. Are you guys good with waiting inside for a few minutes?” Eddie asks as they all start getting out of the van. “Yeah, that’s fine, Eds.” Chrissy replies back with a smile. Y/N had a few interactions with Chrissy since becoming friends with Eddie and from what she can tell, she’s the sweetest girl Y/N ever met. Eddie is a real lucky man, she must say.

As Y/N and Chrissy start walking inside, Chrissy notices the guitar case. “Oh, you’re playing too?!” Chrissy cheerfully asks. “Yeah, but don’t tell Eddie. Was gonna surprise him.” Y/N happily replies back, hoping that that didn’t upset Chrissy. Thankfully, Chrissy saw no problem with it and the two headed inside.

Chrissy takes a seat at one of the tables while Y/N places her guitar case next to the stage. They patiently wait and talk for a little bit as they wait for Eddie’s band. Soon enough, they hear the name ‘Corroded Coffin’ being announced on stage.

You watch as Eddie pours his heart and soul into his performance as his passion for guitar shines through. Chrissy wishes she could watch as deeply as you are, but she can’t help but pay attention to how whenever Eddie looks down at their table, his eyes travel to Y/N. 

—

The band finished up their last song and then walked off stage. As Eddie is putting his guitar back in his case, he hears the bar owner announce, “We have one more performance tonight! Please welcome, Y/N!”. Eddie perks up at this and immediately his attention is on the stage. Chrissy sees this. She nervously plays with the ribbon in her hair and looks at how Eddie’s eyes never left you as you walk onto the stage with your guitar.

Chrissy knows Eddie loves her, no doubt about it, but seeing the way Y/N and Eddie have bonded over the past few weeks, she knew his love for her was slowly decaying. They had so much in common, she should have seen it coming sooner. And Chrissy being the sweet girl that she is, couldn’t bring herself to be mad at it. She’s had her fair experiences with love and is well aware that you can’t choose who you fall for. 

She brings her focus back to the stage as Y/N starts playing guitar and eventually singing her most recent lyrics. ‘They even have similar writing styles’, Chrissy thinks to herself. She sighs and looks down at her hands. She loves Eddie, but this isn’t right. Chrissy isn’t the girl he wants anymore. Those years he spent pinning over her have gone to waste, which hurts Chrissy to admit.

She looked over at Eddie and that’s all it took for her to accept what was going to have to happen. His eyes were so full of admiration, lust, and love. The same way he used to look at her. 

Y/N walks off stage and Eddie immediately runs to her and gives her a hug so big he’s picking her off the ground. Y/N is first to break it as she knows Chrissy is right behind them. Chrissy notices this and sadly smiles to herself. She can’t even blame Y/N. She could tell how Y/N always made sure to respect their relationship and set boundaries. Y/N always made sure Eddie was spending more time with Chrissy than he was with her, she always made sure Eddie still walked Chrissy to practice after school even when he would offer to walk Y/N to her car, and she always made sure Eddie never stopped showing his love to Chrissy. 

Chrissy feels a tear slide down her face but quickly wipes it when the two of them start making their way over. 

“You guys were great!”, Chrissy cheers. 

“Thank you.” Both Eddie and Y/N say, almost in sync.

They finish up their night at the hideout with some fries and drinks then eventually head back out to Eddie’s van. Y/N is first to be dropped off which leaves the couple alone.

 “Eddie?”, Chrissy says sadly. 

“Yeah, Chris?” Eddie replies as he head bops to the music playing on the car radio.

“We need to talk.”

—

Eddie pulls up to Chrissy's house and stops the van in her driveway. “So, what did you want to talk about?” He asks.

 “I think we should break up.” 

Eddie sits in shock for a few moments before turning to face Chrissy and asks why. “Eddie, you know I love you and I know you have love for me. But you’re no longer in love with me.”, Chrissy says with watery eyes.

“Woah, woah, woah. What makes you think that, Chris?” Eddie says as he reaches for Chrissy’s hand, only for her to pull it away. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Eds. You like her, don’t you?”

At her words, Eddie looks down, refusing to make eye contact. His silence confirms Chrissy’s question. 

“It’s okay, Eddie.” “No, it’s not. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” Eddie’s eyes start to gather tears as he still has yet to look up at Chrissy. “What do you mean?” Chrissy asks with furrowed eyebrows. “I mean,” he sighs before continuing, “I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. Never once have I ever felt that way towards another girl, so when me and you got together, I was the happiest man in the world. I truly started to believe that opposites do attract,” He finally looks up at Chrissy as he says, “but I think that’s only because I thought there was no other girl out there that was like me. But then I met Y/N.” Chrissy looks at him with sad eyes, but a soft smile. Eddie returns a sad smile back. “I really am sorry, Chris. This isn’t how I meant for things to go. But I do want you to know I truly was happy with you and I enjoyed our time together.” “It’s okay, Eddie. And me too. I don’t want to trap you in a relationship that you don’t want to be in.”

They sit in awkward, yet somewhat comforting silence for a moment before Chrissy asks one last question, “When did you know you fell for her?” “Today, actually. At the hideout.” This somewhat shocked Chrissy as she would've thought it’d be way earlier, though she lets Eddie continue, “Sure, these past few weeks my crush for her did start to develop, but it felt wrong considering I’m with- or well, I was with you, so I pushed the thought of being with her to the back of my mind. But seeing her today on that stage, I couldn’t hide it from myself anymore.” Eddie says, looking at his lap, somewhat disappointed at himself. He had been chasing Chrissy for years, and once he finally got the girl his heart decides to do a whole u-turn on him.

“Again, Chrissy, I really am sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay. Go get her.” Chrissy says with a happier smile this time. Even though the smile was definitely forced, Eddie smiled back and gave Chrissy one last hug as a goodbye.

Eddie pulls out of Chrissy’s driveway and heads straight for Y/N’s house.

—

He climbs to her bedroom window and knocks. Y/N opens her curtains, not surprised to see Eddie as he surprised her with a similar visit a week ago for a quick smoke sesh. She opens the window and welcomes him in. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He pants out, slightly out of breath from climbing through your window.

“What’s up, Eddie?” Y/N asks. She notices Eddie is fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, a habit of his she recently noticed. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something. About us.” He says, head down as he can’t bring himself to make eye contact. He notices the shift in Y/N’s stance, sensing that she probably has an idea of what he’s about to say. 

“I like you.”

 She sighs before saying, “Eddie-” 

“I know,” Eddie cuts her off, “I know, I know, me and Chrissy. But we broke up.” Y/N looks up at him with shocked eyes and says, “What?! Why would you dump her for me?” Eddie grabs both of Y/N’s hands into his and looks her in the eye as he says, “She dumped me, Y/N.” Y/N takes her hands from his and puts them in her hair, slightly panicking. “No, no, no, no, I feel like a homewrecker, Eddie. This is wrong.” “I know it is, but I can’t control my feelings, Y/N.” 

He sits on the edge of her bed. She takes a seat next to him and deeply sighs. “I don’t even know what to say, Eddie.” He looks down at her and puts her hand in his once again. “Just say how you feel. If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I can get up and leave and pretend this conversation didn’t even happen.” Y/N sighs once again as she responds, “Eddie, I like you too. But this feels so wrong.”

Eddie’s heart lightens at her confession. He smiles to himself before saying, “It’s all up to you, love. If it makes you feel any better, this was all Chrissy’s idea. I don’t want you to think she hates you for taking me away from her. None of this is your fault, okay?” He places a finger under her chin and lifts her face up to meet him eye to eye. He can tell how her eyes are full of so many different emotions right now, but he gives her a reassuring look.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I want to be with you, Eddie.”

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He replies with a smile, slowly bringing her face to his and letting their lips connect.

Y/N feels the guilt seep into her gut as she kisses Eddie, but can’t bring herself to stop. She had been crushing on this boy the moment she laid eyes on him. Sitting at the table next to his was totally not on purpose. She of course feels for Chrissy, but when Eddie and Y/N walked into school the next day hand in hand, she saw Chrissy give her a genuine smile and a thumbs up, and all of a sudden the guilt slowly started to disappear. 

[fanaticsnail]

Gloves: Sabo

Birthday Celebration Masterllst

Word Count: 3,200+

Themes: Sabo x f!reader, gendered terms used, glove play, roleplay, workplace rivals, oral, creampie, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, porn with plot, minor degradation, angst, fluff, Sabo is unhinged, kinks.

Notes: This fic was inspired for @writingmysanity's birthday earlier in the month. Happy birthday, you absolute beautiful person. Lots of imput by @frillsinadress who loves her Sabo a little more unhinged and aided in the plot. Thank you for celebrating with me, and lots of love to the both of you.

Lock latching within the wooden door behind him, Sabo closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tightly shut. Immediately, his forehead found the cool surface and he gently butt his face against the door in a bid to reprimand himself before you had the chance to do so. 

Taking in your surroundings, you were in a similar state of displeasure. Inhaling deeply through your nose, and exhaling out your fury through your mouth, you were simply too mad to articulate your true feelings. 

Sabo had one task to handle. 

This mission served together with the revolutionary army was simple enough, and you had prepared for it remarkably well. Infiltrate the marine gala, Sabo dressed in service attire and masquerading as your footman and valet, you in an elaborate gown imitating a nepotism invitation by association, gather the intel by distracting the guests while Sabo rummaged through the desks, retrieve the desired information, and leave without a scratch. 

The only hindrance that occurred was truly the fact that you and Sabo, the flame emperor himself, did not get along. Despite working together for years, you and the blonde man could barely stand being in the same room together, let alone share the single bed in the middle of the room. 

Sabo was in charge of ensuring adequate accommodation to house you once you returned from your mission before you made it back to home base. Twin rooms, a room with a divider in the center, two different inns, anything would've been better than the single room with a small, double bed at the center. 

On the mission itself, he was to behave as your servant and wait on your every whim, just as his role indicated. He was your handler, and you were to be his bratty and snooty boss. These roles were played into with absolute perfection, just as you planned. Sabo was able to keep up with you, and you pushed him to the absolute brink of insanity. 

Driving him mad came easy to you, so he learned. Having no choice but to respond with ‘yes, my lady,’ or ‘as you wish, my lady’ in this public setting with his head bowed low made his skin crawl with displeasure. Having you be in charge, not being able to speak up when another man laid his hands on you while asking you to dance, watching the way they undressed you with their eyes and fucked you in their minds was repulsive in his opinion. Not you, yourself, but those who intended to lay claim on you. 

Marines. Marines laying their hands on you. You, a revolutionary. You, the bane of his existence. You, the night mistress that called to him in his dreams and mocked him with your body performing for him as a marionette beneath his ventriloquism. As he made you cry for him in ecstasy in his dreams of late, always waking with a sticky reminder of his budding infatuation for the thorn in his side seemed to make him all the more pent up in rage.

“Wonderful, Sabo!” Your voice echoed within the singular room, sarcasm dripping from every word as you snarl at him, “This is just perfect. Can't you do anything right? Just a single thing for you to handle, and you can’t even do that.” 

“Watch it,” he growled back at you, continuing to hold his head against the wood, “Be grateful we have a room at all. This was the last on the Den-Den list available.” He was so pent up with rage at being your little ‘errand-boy’ for the night that he so desperately wanted to teach you a lesson in humility. 

“Be grateful? Be grateful?” you mock him, beginning to remove your great outer skirt and throw it to the ground, changing out of your costume and leaving you in your frilled under-draws, bodice and jewelry. “It's only the last room because you left it so late. If you just listened to me when we first got this mission from Dragon, we wouldn't be in this situation.”

“Listen to you?” Sabo quirked, his jaw switching and a sinister smirk up-ticking at the corners. Turning in place, he faced you and bore his piercing blue eyes into your skull, “Listen to you?”

“You never listen to me-,” you began, halting as Sabo took a calculated step forward. His gloved hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, still in the uniform from the earlier assignment. 

“-I have done nothing but listen to you for the entire night,” Sabo laughed humorlessly, drawing up a gloved hand to card through his sunshine locks, “I have waited on you hand and foot, I have followed one step behind you and behaved like a leashed pup. I have fed you food, I have poured your drinks, I have danced with you, I have-.”

“-Done the job I planned for you to do so, yes,” you spat in response, stepping closer to him and gnashing your teeth in a sarcastic smile, “The only time you ever take my needs into consideration is when it’s all an act for you, Sabo. I pity the partner you find yourself coupling with.” This did not halt you in your removal of jewelry adorning your neck, now flung carelessly to the vanity with your shoes kicked off beneath the bed. 

Sabo’s eyes grew wider, his lip curling up in displeasure at your display. 

“You should watch your tone with me, brat,” he snapped, stepping closer still and brushing his booted toes against your own clad in thigh-high stockings beneath your frills. 

“Or what, asshole?” you quip in return, tilting your head and mirroring his expression. Standing on your toes, your noses almost brushed with the proximity your flared tempers drew you to. 

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Sabo’s right hand flung to your hip and clenched firmly against the bone, the other flying up to cup your cheek and tilted his head down between you. His lips almost descended on your own, and your very breath was stolen from you. Anger immediately subseased, and in its wake swelled a banner of anxiousness at his motions. 

Just before your lips touched, he clenched his jaw and growled into your surprised features. 

“Just take the damn bed,” Sabo uttered darkly, his eyes puncturing you with their rage, “I'd rather sleep outside on the gravel floor than hear you whine about it any longer.”

His hands released from your features, hanging limply at his sides while you remained stunned at the rush of blood flooding your chest and expanding your heart. Sabo clicked his tongue down at you, turning on his heel and began to briskly walk to the door while releasing a shuddered breath. 

Your body moved almost against your will, immediately pulled magnetically behind him by the emotional display in proximity. Before he could unlatch the door from the hinges, your hand found his gloved fingers and tugged him back to face you. 

“Want me to stop whining about the room so bad,” you taunted him, darting your eyes between his with a challenge twinkling behind your anger, “Make me.”

“I'm done taking orders from you,” he shook his head, snatching his hand away from yours and drawing once again to the door. 

Although his hand was on the lock, his mind screaming at his fingers to turn the knob and leave, and not give in to your taunt, the call to put you in your place and bend you to his will was far too tempting to ignore. For what felt like an eternity, Sabo stationary at the door while you remained firmly in place in the middle of the room, he made his snap decision. 

“Screw this,” he whispered exasperatedly, turning to face you and hastily closing the distance between you. 

His hands flung up to your cheeks, lips colliding in a messy oscillation of teeth and tongue while he ravished your mouth with his own. He made his pact internally, crafting a covenant the moment his lips clashed with yours: you will learn your lesson, and your pleasure will be your teacher invoked by his hands. 

Hardly waiting for you to react or understand what was occuring, Sabo's gloved hands immediately found their way beneath the waistband of your frilly, knee-length under-draws. His shrouded fingers carded through your folds, the material adding friction to your quivering clit and causing you to whine into his lips. 

Pulling away both his hands and his lips from you entirely, he raised his index and middle finger to your gaze and demonstrated the amount of slick you had already coated him with. Rolling your arousal through his hands, he chuckled down at you while you panted for him in need. 

“Tsk, tsk, made my gloves all messy,” he reprimanded you with a click in his tongue. “Clean them.” 

As you parted your lips in shock at his statement, he immediately thrust his covered fingers into your lips and pushed down on your tongue. You tasted your honeyed essence on his material, the lewd act only causing more slick to pool in your panties beneath your under-drawers. 

Sabo took his unoccupied hand and undid the waist ribbon, watching as the frills pooled at your feet. His blue eyes eclipsed with black at the sight of the girdle and thigh clips suspending your thigh-high stockings. As he languidly fucked your mouth with his fingers, his other hand flicked one of the elastic suspenders holding up the sheer stockings. 

“This was under there the whole time?” he scoffed, gripping a fistful of your thigh, “All those frigid fucking layers, and this what was lurking beneath? Fuck.” 

He removed his hand from your lips, the material from his gloves leaving a coarse and furry feeling on your palate as he retracted them. Before you had a chance to answer him regarding your attire, Sabo dropped to his knees and threw your legs over his shoulders, and rose back up to full height. 

Slamming your back into the wooden door, he mouthed at your soaked panties, drawing lazy circles against your clothed clit before dipping down to your shrouded entrance. His motions caused your breath to hitch and your hands to fly down to cling onto his golden locks. 

“Sabo-!” You choked out your whimpers, truly not understanding how you had only just verbally lashing at one another to now having Sabo ushering you close to climax by burying his scarred face into your core. 

“Quiet,” he muffled his orders, moving his hand up to wedge your soaked panties between your folds while covering your clit with his parted lips. 

The amount of friction pulling at your body was too much: the heat from his breath, the feel of his gloved fingers now traveling up to your slit and coaxing out more of your creamy slick to dampen the material with its viscosity, and the way his tongue abused your clit had you close to the edge. Tempers flaring moments prior, your belly squeezed in tight knots before you abruptly released over his tongue. 

Your cunt contracted around the material, his fingers feeling the rhythmic thumps of your pussy riding through a hasty high brought on by his hands. He couldn't help but chuckle into your core, feeling the way your slick managed to seep through your lingerie and dampen his gloves with it once more.

“Already?” Sabo teased you, urging you with his arms to slump against his head while he shepherded you towards the double bed in the center of the room. Throwing you down onto the bed, you bounced once atop the springs while he threw his jacket and shirt from his shoulders. 

“Sabo, I-,” you attempted, your body still reeling from the pleasure he quickly drew from your body. 

“-I said ‘quiet’, didn’t I?” he reprimanded you, removing his belt and beginning to unbutton his pants. Your eyes greedily drank him in, noticing the large amount of scarring that marred his skin with the similar marks donning his right hand side. Removing his hat, he was left in naught but those two gloves he had been enjoying torturing you with. 

You didn’t say a word while you gazed up at him with uncertainty in your eyes. Never once picturing this moment between you both, your lip quivered in anticipation for his next actions. Immediately, his unhinged expression dropped to match your own, cocking his head to the side while examining you. 

“I’m only going to ask you this once,” he offered you, peering down his nose at you while you peered up at him in awe, “Do you want this. A simple ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ will do.” 

Ignoring the prior rage you felt after the mission with your workplace rival, the way your pussy clenched while he took charge spurred you on to answer with a single word. 

“Yes.”

Sabo smirked before slotting himself between your legs, tugging at your panties still partially wedged in your labia as he did so. Leaning down, he took your bottom lip within his clenched teeth and pulled on the plush flesh. 

“I think,” he uttered against your lips, releasing it with a smack of his mouth against yours, “I am,” he hastily scooped his arms beneath your shoulders and flung you face-down against the mattress, “Going to,” he pressed down on the mid of your back, arching your ass up while pawing his gloved hands at your panties and hooking them to the side, “Keep your panties on while I ruin you. They’re too fucking good to take off.”

You whelped while he tugged your panties to the side, immediately lining his cockhead up with your glistening slit. Carding the tip through your folds, he let out a shaken shudder while he enjoyed the feeling of your slick coating his cock. 

Although truly desiring to take his time with you, as soon as he heard your shuddered whimper, a switch clicked in his mind and propelled him onward. Bottoming out immediately, he started a brutal pace of slapping his hips against yours and bucking wildly into you. There was no more time for teasing, no more time for subtlety, no more time for drawing out your bliss with languid thrusts to burn his name onto your tongue. 

It was all raw emotion driving him. Your mewls and cries for him was gasoline to the flames of his desires, propelling him to spur on with each cruel piston within you. You could barely get a word out to tell him to slow down, immediately too drunk on the feeling of his mushroomed tip kissing your g spot and bruising your cervix. 

Sabo slot his four fingers beneath the ass of your panties and rolled them in his grip using them as reins to control your motions while his thumb brushed with your puckered hole. You immediately tensed up as he began tapping on your unexplored entrance while brutally stapling you against the mattress. He chuckled darkly, noting he may want to explore a little bit more of ass play another time with you, but for now, he was so lost in the way your pussy fluttered around him with every in-thrust that he physically could no longer hold himself back. 

“Oh, fuck,” he barked out, a small whine picking up in the back of his throat as he continued railing his cock into your core, “So fucking good. Why the fuck haven’t we done this earlier?”

“Be- hnnnghm-... Because I hate you, and you hate me,” you retort in response. He chuckled into your neck, surging forward and placing a harsh nip to your neck from behind you. You cried out in response, 

“I don’t hate you,” he uttered, reaching forward and cupping your chin to mute your cries of bliss by slotting his unoccupied middle and unity finger into your mouth, “I fucking admire you.” He forced you to suck on his fingers while forcing your body to respond to his harsh momentum with every crude slap and gyration.  

You could barely respond to his confession, your body spasming while your cunt began contracting around his shaft. You knew you were close, and you could feel how close the man behind you was by the harsh pummeling of his hips on yours. Sabo’s own mewls of bliss began becoming higher in intensity.

No cohesive words fled from his lips while the primal urge took over. Focussing solely on your joint needs, he held you down while he forced pleasure upon your body. His abdomen coiled and tightened within his stomach, his balls slinking into his guts while he felt the imminent release begin to spurt from his slit. 

“I-I-I’m cumming-!” he whined in your ear, forcing your body down on the mattress while he continued huffing and panting. The viscous splashback of his cum painted your walls with passion as he moaned through his high. Gripping at your spine and arching your back further, he held you in place while you felt your coil shatter and join him in oblivion.

Walls begin to milk him on his release by pistoning him with rhythmic contractions, your muffled scream of his name was muted by his gloved fingers while you felt your high crest in your chest.Your pussy drank in his orgasm while forcing your own upon you. Lightning fizzed at the corners of your eyes while your high was married to the mans’ behind you.

Slumping down onto your shoulder, his lips moved lazily against your skin, mirroring the motions he made in his dreams while thrusting lazily into your pussy. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth while turning your chin to meet his face. Meeting briefly with your eyes, he hastily drew his lips upon yours while muffling his groans into your mouth with every spurt of his release fleeing from his slit.

Hearts beating as one, he buried himself one final time to the hilt while his lips joined with yours. You had little choice but to take the passion he crafted against your features. Closing your eyes and puckering your lips, you merged your soul with his while he continued to passionately forge his body against yours. 

After taking a moment, both of you gulping back your exertion while recovering from your highs, Sabo met his expression with your own and sheepishly chuckled openly.

“Hi,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss once more to your lips while you caught your breath. 

“Hi,” you expressed in return, feeling exceptionally full by his cock within your pussy after expelling his sticky release deep within your walls. 

Sabo chuckled, pressing his lips to your temple while retracting his cock from your pussy. Rolling gently away from your body, he took in your form and basked in the afterglow forged by his hands. You reached forward, cupping his scarred cheek and caressed it with your thumb while you came to. 

“Share the stupid bed with me,” you commanded, stated more like a request than an explicit order. “I'd hate it if you slept outside on the cool cobblestone without me. My final order for the night, valtet.” 

Sabo chuckled, nestling in close to you while brushing his nose with yours. Although the time for roleplaying amongst the marines and upperclassmen was complete, he could barely control himself as he uttered four words to coincide with your orders. 

“Of course, my lady.” 

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[m0nsterqzzz]

The Three Times Natasha Proposed to You and the One Time You Said Yes

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

summary: your girlfriend has a habit of proposing, and you have a habit of saying no.

a/n: I was gonna do this with katniss but decided it worked better with my favorite spy and also its been way to long since I wrote for herrrrrr ahhhh anyway, I LOVE HER YOUR HONOR

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The first time Natasha proposed to you, you had only known her for 18 hours.

You were new to the team. So new in fact that you only knew three people’s names at a table with eight people since the other five were too busy all day to introduce themselves. Dinner was awkward, for you at least, as everyone else was busy chatting about their days with each other. They’re laughing, the bond they all share clear as joy feels the air.

You don’t feel that joy.

It’s not like you’re not happy to be here; you’re insanely grateful that Fury was willing to see past your history and allow you to join forces such as the incredible ones around you, but you just don’t feel very welcomed.

You don’t blame the team. After all, it’s only the first day, and Fury already told you about the fact that most of the people on that team aren’t very warm and friendly. It does kind of bug you though, how now the people you’re not familiar with even seem to notice your presence in the group.

It’s just the first day. Things will get better. You repeat for the 100th time, eyes trained on the table as you spoon some more of the food that was in the kitchen when Jarvis called for you into your mouth. It’s chicken over rice, a simple recipe, but the chicken is covered in some type of delicious sauce that you can’t get enough of.

“Is the food okay? It’s my family's recipe.” A girl with brunette hair and jade colored eyes sitting across from you speaks, nervously smiling as she pushes her fork around the food on her plate. She’s young, younger than everyone else on the team, and it makes you feel a bit better about being new as you remember what Fury said about her only joining about half a year ago.

You give a hesitant smile, answering honestly; “Oh…yeah. I love it. It’s delicious.” 

The girl smiles brighter, reaching across the table to hold out her hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Fury’s told me alot about you. I’m Wanda.”

“All good things I hope.” You giggle before introducing yourself, and she laughs along with you before you both go back to eating. The rest of the team slowly introduces themselves, and out of the corner of your eye you go see the way Wanda cringes when they only do it after she gave an example.

Even if they only did it once the girl made them realize, you still feel a bit more comfortable here then you did a while ago.

You notice Wanda eyeing your rings as you guys continue to eat, so you put your hand on the table in between you too. Her eyes shoot up to you in surprise, clearly not knowing that you noticed it. “Sorry for the staring. I just…I really like your rings. I love wearing them myself and I’ve never seen any like that. They’re beautiful.”

That’s how you guys start up in a conversation about rings, and then a few minutes later you’re sliding off one of your rings to give to her. She seems like the nicest person here, and you can already tell you’re going to be great friends. When you get it off, it accidently flies out of your hand, bouncing on the table before it falls off and lands somewhere on the floor. You turn red in embarrassment at the way everyone falls silent, staring at you in amusement before a redheaded woman slides out of her seat and kneels down on one knee to search for the item.

You met her earlier when you went to the gym to train, and she even helped you learn a few awesome fighting moves before she left to let you do your own thing. You can’t deny that Natasha is beautiful.

The woman smiles when she finds it, grasping the metal in her hand before she turns to face you, still on one knee as she holds it out for you to take as if she’s proposing.

If she notices the way it looks, she doesn’t say anything until Tony, the man you met when he blew up a lab earlier, laughs and mumbles under his breath, “I’m not paying for that wedding.”

You giggle, watching as Natasha stands up and turns to glare at him before facing you once again and putting it on the table near your plate. “Shut up Tony.” She mumbles before sitting back down in her own seat, and you say before shoving food into your mouth when the embarrassment sets in, “I’m not ready to settle down. Sorry Nat.”

Everyone just chuckles, and you are left with a small smile and new found happiness.

The second time she’d done it, she’d almost had you fooled that it was real.

You and her had been dating for three months, and you guys were absolutely inseparable. You’ve learned a lot about her in the year you’ve been an Avenger, and she sometimes opens up about her past. Her little sister, the red room, Dreykov.

Anyway, Fury had sent you on a mission with her, your best friend Wanda, and Steve Rogers to go and steal a flash drive from a destroyed hydra base then find some place quickly to look at what's on it. He said to find the nearest place as people would already be on the search for us, so that's why you got Nat to pull over at a mall. Not for clothes or a new pair of shoes, but to go into one of the electronic stores and use one of their computers to read what's on the file.

It was easy until Natasha noticed one of the workers looking at Steve in suspicion as they see him inserting the drive into one of the computers, and you’re about to abort the mission before your girlfriend grabs your hands and tugs you to the middle of the store, dropping into one knee and glancing at Wanda. The witch seems to get the hint even though you don’t understand what's happening, but you do when the young girl uses her magic to make a ring appear in Natashas hand. It’s beautiful, but you can tell it’s just an illusion to fool the people around you as small red whisps surround your best friend's hands.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” The redhead starts, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the store but too loud as to not seem unusual. “I know you’re having my brother's baby,” She continues with that most serious face you’ve ever seen, and you have to try your hardest not to burst out laughing. “But I can treat you better than he ever could.”

The whole crowd of people in the store are now focused on you, even the workers which gives Steve the time he needs to enter the hard drive into one of the computers and read what's on it.

“So what do you say hottie? You wanna do this or not? Marry me?” You stare at her for a few minutes, eyes glancing at the blonde haired man who silently laughs at the scene in front of him before sending you a thumbs up to show he’s done and you guys can go.

“No!” Everyone quietly gasps, all looking away as Natasha fakes offense. “No! What the fuck? What kind of proposal is this? I’m just trying to buy a new phone, Stacy! And you’ve got a huge barbecue stain on that sweater. This is truly the best you could do?”

You're having way too much fun with it as you scoff before gently slapping her, trying your hardest not to laugh at the way everyone gasps even louder while you storm out.

Your friends and girlfriend quickly catch up with you, and you all finally burst out laughing by the time you’re getting in the car and driving away from the mall right as some scary looking military vehicle pulls up to the building. “Did you have to slap me?” Natasha laughs out, the ring box Wanda had magically created is now gone as she sits next to you in the back seat. “I feel like you enjoyed that way too much.”

“I did enjoy it. I’m also just practicing for the day you do propose to me.” She lets out a fake annoyed groan, slinging an arm over your shoulder as she pulls you to lay against her side.

Despite the playful mood, you can’t help but feel a fluttery feeling in your chest and a warm blush coating your face at the thought of being married to this girl. Little did you know, she was feeling the exact same.

When she did it a third time, it almost seemed like it was second nature for her to pull out a ring box and propose to you. 

You had just got back to the Avengers tower after a lunch date, and she froze on the doorstep when she realized you were no longer beside her. She turns in circles, panic filling her when she doesn’t see you. She’s a spy for fuck sakes, how could she have not noticed something happening to you.

 Her panic fades when you pop out from behind a thick tree, a snowball made from the small amount of snow on the grass in hand as you send her a mischievous smile. She doesn’t have any time to move before you’re launching it in her direction, practically falling over with laughter as it hits her forehead and then breaks into pieces.

The redhead still seems a bit shocked, but she quickly gets over it as she groans with a grin and runs over to harshly tackle you to the ground. It knocks the wind out of you, but you’re both still laughing so hard your stomach hurts as she grabs some snow from beside your head and then lets it fall onto you. “You wanna play that fucking game? Oh we can play that game honey.”

You shake your head, but the bright smile on your face tells her that you’re not actually scared. “No. I’m sorry Tasha. We can talk this out.” When she makes a, “tsk…tsk” noise with her mouth, you use all your strength to push her off of you, sprinting towards your home even though you can hear the sound of Natasha’s boots hastily crunching the snow beneath them as she runs after you.

She wraps her arms around your waist, easily picking you up off the ground and spinning you around. As cringy as it is, your laugh makes her laugh, and the moment is so perfect as she slowly lets you down so she can look you in the eyes.

“Wait a second.” Natasha mumbles, before grabbing something from her pocket, telling you to turn around for a minute while she makes you a surprise. You draw shapes in the snow in the meantime, your fingers practically numb but by the time you’re done, every planet is drawn into the frozen canvas. “Alright. Turn around.” She speaks again, and your smile grows- if possible- at the sight.

She’s messily formed a ring with the wrapper from a straw at dinner, and now she’s balanced on one knee in the icy snow as she grins up at you. “Will you marry me, and be mine forever?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, finally holding at your left hand for her to put the ring on as you yell out, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

The russian girl laughs, once again picking you up to twirl you around before she sets you down to kiss you easier.

From a window high up in the Avengers tour, Wanda watches the interaction while drinking her tea and then closing her curtains. “When is she gonna do it for real?” She whispers to herself, already so done with the fact that Natasha has proposed to you three times, and yet she hasn’t been able to wear a pretty bridesmaid dress in her whole live.

The day Natasha proposed in the privacy of the cabin Tony’s letting you borrow for a weekend, twinkling lights dressing the living room and the dining table decorated with candles, rose petals and fancy wine that’s probably from Pepper, was the time you know she wasn't kidding.

As the sun sets behind the clouds, you and Natasha sit across from each other with your free hands hooked together beside your plates. The setting sun casts gentle rays upon your face from the window, illuminating your features with a golden light. You two share a quiet, comfortable silence for a moment before she looks up from her plate to you, a smile gracing her lips. You look at Natasha, heart beating softly in your chest from the soft, gentle atmosphere of the moment. She lets go of her fork to use that hand to grab ahold of your other hand, your fingertips intertwined gently. Your eyes meet across the table, and for a second it’s just you guys in the world. 

The girl then speaks, her words sincere and clear, as she makes her proposal. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you; I’ve wanted to since the first date we went on. I was scared though…..scared of finding someone I love in a world that could take it away so easily. But now….now I realize. It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be with you for what time we have left, it’s worth it. So," she says softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling as she grabs a ring box from her pocket and opening it so you can see the diamond ring inside before standing up from her seat so she can get down on one knee next to the table. 

"Will you marry me?" 

The question hangs in the air as you gaze into the girl's eyes and processes the words. Your mind reels from the unexpectedness of it all, but you also can't help the surge of joy welling in her chest.

“Yes. Yes of course I will!” Her grin brightens, and she’s still kneeled as she wraps her arms around your waist to hug you as tight as she can. You join her on your knees so you’re on her level, grabbing her face with both hands and pulling her into a passionate kiss. You would’ve married her the first time she asked, but you’re somehow glad you waited until now to say yes. This is perfect.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[gucciwins]

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.

Now happy reading! I love you

+

Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.

Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 

She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 

There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 

Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 

Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 

Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 

Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 

Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 

Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 

The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.

 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud. 

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.

The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 

They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  

Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 

“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 

No answer. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 

He fidgets with his fork. 

“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 

Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 

“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 

Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 

With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 

One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 

“Any good?”

Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 

Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”

Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 

The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 

Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 

“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 

“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 

“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”

+

Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 

Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 

“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 

“Where to?” He asks curiously. 

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?” 

“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 

Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”

Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”

Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 

Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”

He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.

+

September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.

It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 

“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 

“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”

“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.

Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 

Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 

The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 

Enjoy - HS

Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 

“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 

Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 

“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 

Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 

“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 

“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 

Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 

Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 

“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 

“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 

“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 

After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 

“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 

“See you in a bit then.”

+

Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 

Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 

Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 

Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 

Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”

He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 

“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.

“Everyone is going?”

“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”

Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 

“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.

Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 

“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”

She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 

+

The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 

Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.

It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.

“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.

“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 

Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 

Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 

Harry likes Y/N.

It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 

“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 

“I did,” he answers. 

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 

Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 

“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 

Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”

He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”

Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”

Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 

Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 

“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 

“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.

“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 

“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 

They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 

“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.

Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 

“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.

Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 

Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 

“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.

She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 

“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 

They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.

“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 

And so they continue on. 

The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 

While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 

Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 

To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 

“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 

“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 

“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 

“Hozier.” 

“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 

“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 

“As do you.” 

The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 

Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.

As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 

“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 

Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 

Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 

“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 

He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 

“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”

“By all means, lead the way.” 

After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 

The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 

“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 

Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 

Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 

Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 

He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.

“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 

“Let me walk you up.” 

Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 

“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 

“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.

Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 

She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”

Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.

She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 

“Ask me,” he pleads. 

“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 

Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 

She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 

When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 

Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 

“Too far.

Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 

Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 

Harry can’t say no.

+

Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 

“Morning,” he answers timidly. 

Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 

Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”

“A date?” He echoes. 

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 

“How does this weekend sound?” 

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 

“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 

“Yes, love?” 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 

Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 

Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.

[peachdues]

Bundle of Joy

Part 1/2 of a secret-pregnancy drabble between Sanemi and the Reader, who is the Lunar Hashira (not the same one from TWAHM). Protective/soft Sanemi, but the other Hashira don't know he's the daddy.

CW: suggestive/smut, blood, pregnancy, difficult labor. Sanemi is a dick to everyone but is so soft for Y/N.

You can find Part Two here and the prequel one-shot here

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Pregnant, Kocho had said, you’re pregnant.

She had sat there for a moment, too stunned to say anything right away. Her eyes flitted between the gentle look on the Insect Hashira’s face and the results of the blood work clutched in her hand.

Pregnant.

In retrospect, Y/N knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sanemi was a passionate lover, and she loved being the object of his passion, in both the bedroom and in those quiet, stolen moments shared at one another’s estates, away from prying eyes.

And sometimes, there were less-than-quiet moments where a certain someone had begged Sanemi to stay inside and give it to me, baby, please!

Okay, Y/N conceded, maybe those moments occurred more than sometimes (far more), and Sanemi had only been too happy to oblige her.

And so Y/N was pregnant.

“Well, that’s a surprise!” Y/N said with a soft chuckle, absent mindedly placing a hand over her flat stomach.

Kocho watched Y/N for a moment. “Y/N,” Y/N was surprised to hear Kocho refer to her by her first name, even more so when Kocho moved to place a hand over hers. “you are more than free to keep the child that comes from this pregnancy, or…” Kocho furrowed her eyebrows, struggling to phrase the information delicately, “we have things here that would terminate the pregnancy early. It would be painless.” She promised.

Y/N blinked in surprise. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but the thought of not letting the the child in her belly grow… no, she couldn’t do that.

“Thank you, Shinobu, truly,” Y/N squeezed her hand lightly. “But I wish to see this through.”

Kocho nodded, withdrawing her hand to reach for a stack of papers stacked besides her on the small exam table. “Well in that case, I will need to inform the Master right away. You can still perform some missions for now, but nothing too strenuous. The first few months of pregnancy are quite tricky.” Shinobu began scribbling down a message, but paused mid-word.

“Y/N… is the father… involved?”

Ah. That problem.

It wasn’t so much a problem for her and Sanemi as it was for everyone else. When they had finally given in to the simmering desire between them while training more than a year earlier, neither of them had intended for it to continue. But one time had not been nearly enough, and suddenly, Y/N had found herself craving his voice, his touch, and his lips, and he, hers. It had not taken long for them to realize how ridiculously, stupidly in love they were.

But they had both agreed to not tell the other Hashira — or anyone — about their affair. The decision mostly stemmed from practicality; the Master, while he did not oppose relationships amongst the Hashira, did have a practice of not pairing them up together once their relationship was made public. The Master believed, ultimately, it was too risky, as both would seek to protect the other, potentially to the detriment of civilians and other slayers alike.

It was a rational justification, but it did little to stifle the electricity which cackled between the two Pillars. It held little weight against the stony will of Sanemi Shinuzagawa.

Sanemi had been the first one to crack during an intense sparring session. He had caught Y/N off guard after she had dodged an attack, using the wind to pitch himself into her blind spot and sweep her shapely legs from beneath her.

But Y/N had never been one to go down without a fight, so she had wound the Wind Pillar’s haori around her fist mid-fall, and successfully brought him right down with her.

On top of her.

Sanemi had fallen with a grunt, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he realized Y/N had still managed to out-maneuver him, even after he had bested her. His full weight upon her, he had stared at her with a bewildered look in his eyes, breathing hard out of his nose as he struggled to collect himself.

His eyes flitted down once to Y/N’s fist, still wrapped in his haori, before they had lifted back up to her mouth, settling on that stupid, shit-eating smirk she had.

There had been no thoughts in Sanemi’s head as he crashed his mouth against hers in a flurry of lips and teeth.

Y/N had been frozen for half a second before she snapped back into herself and hauled him closer, meeting each demanding swipe of his tongue stroke for stroke.

Within minutes both of of the Pillars’ clothing had been reduced to shreds, and Sanemi’s head had found a home between Y/N’s legs. It had taken embarrassingly little effort on his part to bring her over the edge not once, but twice.

And when he finally flipped her on all fours and rammed his proud length into her desperate core, Y/N had come apart again, half-sobbing his surname as pleasure mixed with pain from overstimulation.

“You know my fuckin’ name. Use it.” He had snarled in between the ruthless snapping of his hips against her.

That night, Shinazugawa had made sure Y/N could only say one word:

Sanemi. Sanemi. Sanemi.

And when it was finally over, and the two had collapsed next to each other on the dirt ground of his training ring, spent and satisfied, Sanemi had told the sweaty Lunar Pillar that she was to report to his Mansion for training sessions forthwith.

Nightly training sessions.

Because one taste had ignited an inferno of desire between the two of them that could not be snuffed out. It could only be tamed when Y/N’s fingers buried themselves in his hair as his own tight grip on her hips and thighs left marks on her skin, his hips setting a relentless and savage pace as he rutted into her, wanton and needy. A fire that could only be soothed when Sanemi sent her hurtling over the edge of her pleasure and found himself free-falling after her, spilling himself inside her warmth until she was filled with nothing but him.

It had not been long before the emotional passion followed their more carnal desires. Y/N had known she was in deep when she had confessed to him her deepest fears of not living past the age of her elder brother and falling to demons the same way he had. She knew he felt the same way when, in the middle of the night, having been startled awake from some unseen terrors in his mind, he stopped leaving the futon they shared to sit out on the engawa stare up at the moon, instead seeking the comfort of her embrace, burying his nose into her hair as he willed his heartbeat to slow.

And so, for more than a year, the two Hashira had kept up the charade of being disinterested co-workers in public, concealing their endless passion, adoration, and concern for one another that they held in private. It appeared that none of the other Pillars were any the wiser.

The only difficulty now would be in how to tell him the news.

She would tell him, of course, the moment she returned to his estate in the dead of night, when she knew the other Hashira would be sleeping or out on patrol, far away from the grounds of Sanemi’s manor. Y/N would tell him, and then they would decide how to move forward, together.

Sanemi, who was so strong, so capable, was also so, so protective. He knew that Y/N was more than capable of handling herself on missions, but too much personal tragedy had scarred him and he found himself unable to leave her completely alone. Even if she had been assigned to complete what was technically a solo mission, Sanemi was always within a few miles to rush to her aid, should she need it. And Y/N was the same way with him. A true team, who could and would figure out how to deal with any obstacle.

But until then…

Y/N smiled, attempting to reassure Shinobu. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Shinobu, truly.”

Shinobu pursed her lips, debating whether to push her friend further on the matter. It wasn’t her place to pry, true, but she couldn’t help but worry.

While Shinobu knew Y/N could handle herself— very well — she also knew how it was to be a woman in society. Men were relentless in their pursuit of forcing women to do things against their will; their destructive creativity knew no bounds.

But Shinobu also knew that pushing any woman in such a situation could make her clam up, could make her resist help — or even treatment. So, Shinobu resolved to keep quiet for now, but to keep a close eye on Y/N throughout her pregnancy.

Had she known at the time of the Insect Pillar’s concerns, Y/N would have fallen off of Shinobu’s examination table in a fit of hysterics. The idea that Sanemi, Mr. Made-Madea-Piss-Himself-for-Harassing-a-Young-Slayer, would ever do anything she hadn’t wanted him to do was laughable — as if he didn’t have her begging and pleading for him to do more to her every night.

But Y/N didn’t know, and so she left the Butterfly Mansion without another word. Shinobu sent off her crow to the Master with the Lunar Pillar’s news, pulling Aoi aside to instruct her to monitor the pregnant woman throughout the upcoming months for anything amiss — bruises, unexplained injuries, general skittishness — and to report it immediately to her.

Shinobu may not have known the circumstances of Y/N’s pregnancy, but she did know she would not let harm come to her or her growing child.

———————

Sanemi had wept like a baby when Y/N told him that night.

The man who looked as though he were stone hewn by the wind itself fell to his knees and cried like Y/N had never seen before. He pressed his forehead against the flat expanse of her stomach, raining soft kisses across her abdomen as he held his love close.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered, between the pressing of his lips against her skin while she ran her fingers through his windswept hair, “Thank you for this gift.”

After Sanemi wiped his eyes, he made sure to spend the rest of the night showing Y/N exactly how grateful he was, though with a newfound gentleness. Sanemi typically took her roughly in a way that had Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her head, begging desperately for more. That night, however, he had treated her with such softness and love that it nearly shattered her heart. He had spent the entirety of the night holding her tightly against him, her name falling like a prayer from his lips while he gently rocked into her, whispering how beautiful she was and would look as she grew his child.

The next morning was not as beautiful.

“You’re retiring.” He said sternly as he poured her tea first, then his.

“No, I’m not,” Y/N retorted evenly, “Kocho said I could take low-risk missions until my next appointment with her, and that she would reassess her recommendation then.”

Sanemi stopped pouring his tea, setting the pot down a touch too hard. “Y/N. The first few months of pregnancy are when the mother is the most at risk for losing the child. I will not have you putting yourself in situations where that is a very real possibility.” He reached for her hand, closed in a fist on the table. “I…” he struggled to find his words. “I watched my mother… lose a few pregnancies at the hands of my father,” he spat the last word, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were tender; pleading. “I do not want to see you suffer through the pain that she did.”

Y/N softened at that revelation. She had known about Sanemi’s painful childhood, but the news about his mother’s lost pregnancies was new.

But this was different. She was a Hashira, not a housewife.

“This is… our thing, right now, isn’t it?” Y/N asked lightly, holding her steaming cup of jasmine tea between her hands, relishing in its comforting warmth. Sanemi said nothing but nodded, as he waited for her to continue.

“I’m not ready to share us with the world just yet."

Sanemi’s lips tightened, and his eyes fell to the floor. “Are you…unhappy with this news? He asked quietly. “Do you… feel ashamed… of…” His voice trailed off, but Y/N heard what he was asking all the same.

Ashamed of me?

Y/N’s head snapped up, and within a flash she was on her knees before him, clasping his large hand between her smaller ones. Sanemi kept his eyes resolutely on the floor rather than meet her piercing gaze, and Y/N tightened her grip.

“I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” she tugged lightly on his hand. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the floor and rested on her face, and Y/N’s heart clenched at the softness she saw reflected in his lilac gaze.

“I love you.” Y/N said simply, a small smile tugging on the corner of her pretty mouth. “I love you and I love our child. I thank the stars every day for you.” Sanemi’s breath caught in his chest at her words, and his hand returned her squeeze.

“But as you said, the first few months of pregnancy are difficult. I don’t want this news out before we’re ready to share it, especially in case of,-“ Y/N shut her eyes briefly, trying to shake away the encroaching panic she felt at the idea of losing the child growing in her womb. “In case something happens.” She managed.

“But if I retire now, there will be questions that I’m not ready to answer.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling slightly guilty about the show she was about to put on. “But I need you to trust Shinobu’s medical opinion on this. To trust me.” Y/N pleaded, bringing his callused hand to her lips, brushing soft kisses over his scarred knuckles. “I need you to trust that I know my limits.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa would never admit it, but he was a sucker for Y/N’s pretty face. A bat of her eyelashes and a nuzzle of her face into his hand brought him to his knees in an instant.

“No dangerous missions. Minor demons only. Cleanup. That’s it.” Sanemi proposed, his voice gruff.

Y/N knew, of course, that Sanemi would still find a way to shadow her whenever she would be sent on a mission close enough to his location, and to be honest, she couldn’t blame him. After all, it was his child she carried. But he was willing to compromise — to try — for her.

So Y/N smiled. “Deal.”

———————————-

Pregnancy had generally been uneventful.

Shinobu had insisted at the start of Y/N’s second trimester that she abstain from future slaying missions (much to her chagrin and Sanemi’s joy), but she encouraged Y/N to continue training under the supervision of the girls at the Butterfly Mansion in order to maintain her abilities.

Of course, once missions were off the table, Y/N knew she had to come clean to the other Hashira.

Almost clean.

She had told them the essentials — she was with child and she was keeping it. Y/N and Sanemi had already agreed not to share that he was the child’s father, again out of concern that once the child had been delivered, the two would never again be permitted to share missions together.

To the other Pillars’ credit, no one pushed her for paternity details. Y/N suspected that Shinobu had shared her hypothesis with them, that the father at best was uninvolved, at worst, might attempt to do harm to her if he knew.

Sanemi said nothing in his own defense, and even talked Y/N down from screaming at the lot of them on his behalf. He informed her that as a result of Shinobu, the other Hashira had formed a little pact to protect both Y/N and her (their) unborn child at all costs.

Sanemi found great relief in this, given that he was still being sent on missions. The promise among the other Pillars meant someone was watching over Y/N at all times, should she ever need assistance. And, because he had also agreed to partake in this pact, Sanemi was guaranteed alone time with Y/N at her estate, without the added pressure of sneaking around the other Pillars. Thus, he had been content to sit back and keep the knowledge that she carried his child close to his chest.

And Sanemi had been so attentive to Y/N throughout the months of her pregnancy. He constantly worried about her comfort and sought to make pregnancy as easy as possible. He awoke at all hours of the night to fix something that would satisfy her insane cravings. He would arrive home from missions and kiss her so sweetly, Y/N thought her heart would burst, before pressing his ear against the growing swell of her belly to listen to his child’s small heartbeat and lavish Y/N with kisses and soft praises. In the later months of her pregnancy, he would be sure to rotate Y/N’s sleeping form throughout the night to ensure she wouldn’t wake up in pain or discomfort.

And throughout it all, he maintained his passionate physical love for her, though more gently so as not to risk hurting Y/N or their child. But he worshipped her body with such fervor that it often reduced Y/N to tears.

When Sanemi was away, the other Hashira took turns keeping Y/N company, and each Pillar took on a special role for her. Uzui and his wives showered her with new clothes, fitted to accommodate her growing belly, and the wives lauded her with compliments. Mitsuri had become her meal-time buddy, the two of them nearly eating their way through the entire pantry stock of both their mansions in a single evening.

And so, pregnancy itself, had been easy.

Labor, when it arrived, was an entirely different matter.

Labor hurt.

Y/N had known something was wrong the moment her water had burst, having barely registered the wetness that slipped down her legs due to the agony that followed, leaving Y/N feeling as though she was being ripped open from the inside.

Y/N’s ears rang with a scream she had not realized was her own until she felt her throat burn. Her knees buckled, and she would have hit the ground had Uzui and Rengoku not materialized out of thin air, having noticed her from across the courtyard outside of her estate. The pair stood on either side, working to catch her before her knees could bite into the rocks below.

“We need to get her to Kocho, right away,” Uzui said to Rengoku. “I can run ahead and let the Butterfly Mansion know we’re coming. Can you get her there?” The Sound Hashira asked Rengoku, who nodded.

“Come, Y/L/N, I’ll take care of you,” Rengoku said warmly, lifting her up into his arms before taking off at a break-neck speed. Y/N clutched the front of his robes, hissing as another wave of excruciating pain washed through her.

“Sorry- ah— Rengoku, I might tear your uniform.” Y/N said through gritted teeth, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

Regoku’s deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “No worries, Y/L/N! I have plenty of uniforms. He glanced down at his friend, a comforting smile tugging on his lips, “You do what you need to do to help manage the pain.” He added kindly.

Y/N held onto the Flame Pillar’s robes for dear life, as she tried to keep herself from crying out, head falling against her friend’s chest. Above them, a raven circled once, twice, before heading east, its wings beating frantically.

The Butterfly Mansion had just come into sight when the unmistakable scent of iron hit Y/N’s nose. She tried to sit up in Rengoku’s arms to look over the large swell of her stomach, panic beginning to spread through her chest. Before she could confirm the source of the smell, Y/N collapsed back into Rengoku’s arms.

“Is-is that-?” Y/N trembled, her voice unusually high.

Rengoku’s nostrils flared slightly as he too, took notice of the scent. He only had to tilt his head slightly to the side to see below Y/N’s pregnant belly, his expression grim.

“Kyojuro,” Y/N whimpered, her grip on the front of his uniform slackening.

Rengoku turned his gaze back to Y/N’s, his expression soft and comforting as a kind smile chased away whatever shadow had been there.

“You are doing so well, Y/L/N! Truly! You will deliver this child in no time.” He said warmly, the hand holding her against him squeezing reassuringly.

Y/N may have been in blinding pain, but she did not fail to notice how the Flame Pillar clutched her tighter to him, his pace quickening as he sped towards the Butterfly Mansion.

Rengoku had all but leapt the last length of their journey, swiftly landing at the entrance to Kocho’s residence. The Insect Pillar was already waiting outside for them, alongside Uzui and a small team of Butterfly Mansion girls who were prepared to open doors and clear hallways for them.

“Come with me,” Shinobu ordered the moment Rengoku’s feet touched the ground, her eyes scanning over Y/N’s ashen face. Shinobu’s gaze snagged at the bloodstain spreading across the lower middle of the light cotton kimono Y/N wore.

Wordlessly, the small group of Hashira swept through the halls of the Butterfly House, escorted by Shinobu’s staff. The Insect Pillar drew up short outside of a small room in the back of the main hallway, urgently motioning Rengoku through the doorway.

“Uzui, grab Y/N’s legs. Rengoku, move your arms to support under her ribs,” Shinobu ordered the two men as she dunked her hands in a bucket of cold, soapy water, quickly scrubbing at her skin. “You both need to work together to lower her onto the birthing bed.” Shinobu pointedly looked to the small, white futon that lay in the middle of the wooden floor, its blankets already pulled back in anticipation of the pregnant woman now panting in Rengoku’s arms.

The pain in her lower belly was unbearable, and Y/N could not stop herself from crying out as she felt the two male Pillars gently readjust her so they could lower her as Shinobu ordered. Hot tears clung to her eyelashes as she gasped out, breathing becoming difficult through the haze of the pain.

Shinobu, having finished cleaning her hands, moved to kneel at Y/N’s feet. The Insect Pillar adjusted the futon’s cotton blanket to cover Y/N from the waist-down before gently spreading her legs and propping them up on either side of her.

“Y/N,” Shinobu said firmly, rolling up the bottom of the futon blanket to Y/N’s knees so she could examine her friend. “Y/N, you need to get your breathing under control. Your distress is affecting your body’s ability to heal, and it will harm the child.”

Y/N whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek. Eyes closing, Y/N took a shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow its wild thumping in her chest and her body to relax. She managed for all of two breaths before another wave of pain rocked through her, causing her to cry out.

“Dammit,” Shinobu swore, as a fresh wave of blood spilled from between Y/N’s legs, staining her trembling thighs crimson. Both Uzui and Rengoku stood back behind Y/N’s head, their eyes wide as the smell of blood hit them.

Shinobu wracked her brain, trying to think of something, anything, that would help her friend calm down enough to get her breathing under control, to get her body to stop fighting her labor.

“Y/N, does the father know? Does he know the child is coming?” Shinobu blurted, as she tried to wipe away the blood that was rapidly pooling beneath Y/N’s center.

It had taken a moment for Shinobu’s words to fully register in Y/N’s mind. Her heart stuttered as she remembered that Sanemi was on a mission, at least half a day’s journey from the Butterfly Mansion.

Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears not from the endless pain, but from the realization that Sanemi might not make it here in time, might not make it before she…

“He’s t-too far.” Y/N half-sobbed, back bowing off the futon as her body seized with the strain of labor, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to breathe through the contraction.

Uzui stepped forward from his spot against the back wall. “Nothing is too far for me, Y/N” he said gently, “tell me where he is, and I can get him here in a flash.”

Shinobu nodded, patting Y/N’s knee comfortingly. “Where is he, Y/N? Does he live in a village nearby?”

Y/N shook her head furiously, her mouth opening to respond, but only a choked sob came out.

Shinobu pressed. “Y/N, you must tell Uzui his name, or else he won’t be able to bring him back.” Shinobu motioned for one of the Butterfly Mansion’s young girls to bring over a damp towel to dab at Y/N’s burning forehead. 

“Who is the child’s father, Y/N?” Shinobu repeated.

“It’s — fuck,” she hissed, her stomach feeling as if it were about to split open. “S-SANEMI.” She called out, body curling off the futon before collapsing against it once more, feeling exhaustion settling in over her bones, threatening to take over her consciousness.

The room was silent — dead silent — for a moment. Shinobu looked up to the two Male Pillars, her jaw slackened and her eyes wide, her shock mirroring that of both her comrades.

It had taken each Pillar another moment to re-correct themselves. Shinobu locked eyes with Aoi, a similar stunned look on her face, and silently ordered her to take up her position at Y/N’s feet. Once Aoi had knelt, Shinobu rose, and the other two Hashira swiftly exited the room, the former pulling the door to the birthing room behind her shut.

“No fucking way Shinazugawa is the father,” Uzui had hissed the moment the birthing room door had latched, his magenta eyes wild. “I can’t believe someone like Y/N would willingly have a child with that snarky little bitch.”

“You are not suggesting that Shinazugawa may have forced himself on Y/N, are you Tengen?” Rengoku asked quietly.

Uzui shook his head, scoffing slightly. “No. But I do think it's weird that she kept it a secret until the last possible second,” Uzui ran a hand through his hair, anxiously. “And he never said a damn word about it either. Maybe something happened that shouldn’t have. Maybe he feels ashamed.”

Rengoku eyed Shinobu, whose mouth had been pulled into a deep frown, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the Sound Pillar in deep thought. “Kocho? What should we do?” 

Shinobu also did not believe Shinazugawa would ever force himself upon a woman, but she could not deny the unease she felt at the revelation that Y/N had concealed the identity of the child’s father. “Go get Shinazugawa, Rengoku.” She said softly, “Uzui, you stay here. Shinazugawa is fast enough on his own. I want you here to guard the door.”

Rengoku looked quizzically at his tiny friend, but she said nothing more and so he hid the pair farewell and took off into the night.

“Guard?” Uzui asked, puzzled.

Shinobu pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closing as a dull ache bloomed through her skull. “Unless and until Y/N asks for him, I want him kept out. I don’t imagine he would be a very calming presence.” Shinobu grimaced. “Frankly, I don’t have the patience to handle him right now. I need to keep her calm.”

Uzui nodded, moving only to send a crow for the Water Hashira to come assist. He leaned casually against the frame of the door once Shinobu had closed it back behind her, shaking his head lightly. Really, Y/N? He chastised, internally, Shinazugawa?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Keep an eye out for Part 2 if you want to see Sanemi be both feral and the softest boy.

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Yoonig x Reader

Summary: You’ve always had a complicated relationship with your birthday, but Yoongi’s always there to comfort you. Until he isn’t.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: angst, comfort, swearing, suggestive at the end

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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You never really liked your birthday.

For as long as you could remember, you could sense the looming feeling of dread and unease each year as the date drew closer. You don’t know what it was exactly, maybe it was because of how you were raised, maybe it was just a quirk of your personality, but whatever the reason, you could never shake the feeling of guilt, as if you were a burden to those around you.

Over the years though, you had been lucky enough to find a circle of people that, while they might not fully understand your feelings on the subject, made a point to make sure you felt special and remind you of how much they cared for you whenever that fateful day rolled around.

One of the best at this was Yoongi.

Yoongi had always had a particular knack for being able to read your emotions and understood your feelings about your birthday, he wasn’t exactly fond of his either, but that didn’t stop him from worrying whenever he noticed you growing more quiet and withdrawn as it approached.

He never pressured you to share what was going on in your mind in those times, but he always found little ways to let you know that he was there for you and to show how much he loved you.

It was never anything super elaborate; last year, the two of you just went to the movies, because he knew there was a particular film you’d been dying to see.

It never really mattered to you what you did though, so long as you were together, you were happy.

Though, time together had been rather hard to come by the past few months.

Yoongi had been busier than ever, traveling and working relentlessly in preparation for his new album. Most nights he was holed up at the studio til 2 or 3 in the morning working on songs.

You worried about him over extending himself, but he assured you that he had it all under control, that he was able to keep up with everything.

It was another one of those late nights at the studio as he sat hunched over his soundboard when the sound of his phone finally managed to break through his hyperfocus.

Glancing at his phone, he face pulled into a slight frown as he read the text notification from Namjoon.

“How’s Y/n?”

“Fine, I think. Why??” He sent back, confused by the random question.

“Idk, she just seemed a bit down earlier when I sent a happy b-day msg”

“Her birthday’s not till tomorrow-

”Oh fuck.” He swore out loud, checking the date on with a sink stomach as he realized his horrible mistake.

Jumping to his feet, he felt his heart drop again at the sight of the time on his phone screen.

10:02pm.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, nearly running down the hall to the elevators. He couldn’t believe he’d mixed up the days so badly. How could he have fucked up something like this?

Had you realized yet? Most likely, he hadn’t heard anything from you since your usual morning texts. You must’ve been so upset, how was he ever going to make up for this to you?

He practically ran up the stairs to your apartment, knocking frantically on the door and begging that you weren't so mad that you wouldn't answer.

As soon as you opened the door, he tackled you in a crushing bear hug.

“Yoongi, what-?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He mumbled into your neck.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” He felt you stiffen slightly.

Pulling away to look at you, his heart broke further as he noticed the faint redness around your eyes.

“I got the days mixed up, I thought it was tomorrow,” He explained guiltily. “I’m so sorry, Jagi.”

You looked down, nodding slowly.

“It’s okay.” You said softly, voice still somewhat croaky from your earlier bout of crying.

“It’s not, though. I should’ve been here.” He said, growing more upset with himself.

“You’ve been busy, I get it.”

“That's no excuse,” He said. “I still fucked up.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi, really.” You said tiredly, wanting desperately to just forget the whole thing.

“No, it isn’t-” He insisted, gripping onto your hand as you tried to draw away.

“Yoongi, please.” The last word comes out far more broken than you intended it to, betraying your true emotions that you’d been trying to stamp down all evening.

Before you could help it, the tears you had been trying to hold back broke free, dripping down your cheeks and onto your joined hands.

Yoongi instantly pulled you to his chest, hugging you tightly as he backed the two of you into your apartment.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Jagi.” He whispered over and over, softly stroking your hair as your tears dampened his shirt.

After a few minutes once your sobs quieted, he pulled back to see your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently.

You nodded.

He led you over to the couch, still keeping you close as you sat silently for a moment.

“Are you angry?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He pleaded, his dark eyes boring into your own.

You thought for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“I know that you love and care about me” You began slowly. “And I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me, but… not hearing from you, not even getting a text or something… I don’t know, it just kinda stirred up those old feelings and thoughts of how easily I could be forgotten, what if people don’t actually like me, what if they just tolerate me in their lives...”

Your voice was almost inaudible by the end, not wanting to fully admit the deprecating thoughts that were going through your mind.

Yoongi teared up at your words. He knew he’d asked, but hearing you say it aloud broke his heart; to know he’d scratched those old wounds and caused you to doubt yourself crushed him inside.

“Look at me,” He said seriously, turning to face you. “Those thoughts? Nothing could be further from the truth. You mean more to me than anything in the fucking world. I know I fucked up today, but I need you to know that there is nothing that could ever make me forget about you. You are the first and last thought in my mind every single day. Understand?”

You nodded, wiping away a few more stray tears that had slipped out.

“C’mere.” He pulled you into another tight embrace, kissing your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You muttered, tucking your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you want, we could still do something? Try and enjoy the last couple hours of the day, at least?” He offered

You shook your head. “I just want to be with you.”

He nodded, shifting around on the couch and pulling you onto his lap, holding you close.

“I love you.” He whispered again, running his soothing hands over your hips.

“I know.” You said, equally soft, cradling his face in your hands as you drew him in to connect your lips.

He kissed you deeply, trying to channel just how much you meant to him through the action, hands coming up to hold your waist, pressing you even closer.

He would never hurt you like this again, he swore to himself, pressing you closer to him. He would do everything in his power to remind you how much you meant to him every chance he got.

You sighed, looping your arms around his neck as you let yourself drift in the feeling of him all around you, the scent of his cologne, the soft sounds that left him as his lips drifted down the expanse of your throat, the way his hips twitched beneath you when you tugged at his hair.

Suddenly, he tipped you back on the couch, coming to hover over you, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @universal-travel-er @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[beomcoups]

fated strut- pt. i

̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader

̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?

̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤

Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic. 

You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully. 

“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?” 

He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him. 

“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.

You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”

Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance. 

“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.” 

“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you. 

“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”

Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”

He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds. 

“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”

He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.

“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?” 

He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”

Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it. 

You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?

A few weeks later...

You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.

You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.

That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.

“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”

The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears. 

“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”

On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.

You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.

Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. 

You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful. 

“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”

You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry. 

“He’s okay,” you clear your throat. 

“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive. 

“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”

You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.” 

“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”

She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”

The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear. 

“Well, that’s too bad.” 

Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire. 

The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.” 

You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind. 

“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.” 

You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god. 

You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side. 

“Are you ready to go, doll?”

You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared. 

“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”

“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly. 

You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.

“Welcome in.” 

The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.

“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”

“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”

“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.” 

His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”

You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris. 

You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before. 

In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you. 

“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”

Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”

Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.

“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?” 

“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell. 

“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”

You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history. 

 Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that. 

You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up. 

“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”

He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful. 

You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover. 

“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.” 

You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?

“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”

Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway. 

“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.” 

“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”

“Are you?” 

“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”

You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?

“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”

Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself. 

“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”

“How?”

“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”

You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right. 

“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”

You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”

Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.

“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”

His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples. 

“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers. 

“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I just know what I like, that’s all.” 

Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless. 

His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently. 

“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter. 

“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.” 

“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”

“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after. 

“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”

“Say it, baby.” 

“Fuck, just make me cum, please.” 

Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.” 

Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of. 

“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”

Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.

“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.” 

“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”

“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.” 

His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last.  He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good. 

“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.” 

“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth. 

“Can I?”

You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you. 

Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down. 

“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” 

Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time. 

“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”

You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack. 

“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.” 

He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm. 

“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”

You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge. 

Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you. 

He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath. 

“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”

Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means. 

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.” 

His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him. 

Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie. 

He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles. 

“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”

He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”

He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.

“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”

You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts. 

Thank you for reading ^_^ if you would like to join my taglist, sign up here.

[weebsinstash]

I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

[wesstars]

touch

jenna ortega x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: jenna, your lovely girlfriend, has been away filming for far too long, in your opinion. she thinks so, too. wc: 2.6k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. all characters are 18+. phone sex, masturbation, bad dirty talk lmao, this is basically all bad dirty talk, light D/s dynamics, name calling/slight degradation, praise, reader is a soft dom, strap-on referred to as “cock,” horribly excessive use of italics, feels a bit odd writing rpf… a/n: @crazyoffher :) returning the favor!

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6:01 pm

call u in a sec?

A grin lighting up your face at the text, you hurriedly type an affirmative reply as you unlock your apartment door. Dropping your bag, you kick your shoes off, sighing as you shed your coat. Making a beeline for your bedroom, your eyes slide shut as you flop down on your gigantic bed. You’d washed the sheets earlier, and they were feeling extra soft. If Jenna were here, she’d be rolling around in them, covering her own scent with one of fresh linen.

Usually, she was—you were lounging in your shared apartment, a wide open space near the top of a sleek, tall building. Every evening in LA, the two of you could be found here, the appeal of a night in far exceeding that of a night out. A bottle of wine and a packet of popcorn to share wasn’t rare either, the expensive drink wasted on you two young lovers. 

Everything had happened so quickly, but you loved it. A chance meeting on a plane had led to a long conversation about anything and everything, so common for new couples, and one-drink dates across busy nights had culminated into a fateful party invitation and an equally fateful blushing confession. Your relationship was wild, and crazy, and everything you could’ve wanted. A year later, Jenna had surprised you with a set of keys. It was a certain kind of promise that made those long nights, waiting for a phone call from half a world away, so worth it.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seeing the ID, you instantly pick up.

“Jenna?”

“Hey,” her familiar voice comes shyly through the speaker, a comforting sound. “Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home from work.”

Jenna hums in a way that tells you she’s plotting something, and her little stifled giggle just confirms your suspicions. You fake a sigh, happy to venture into her ploy.

“Jenna, did you have something to drink?”

“No.” She huffs a laugh. “I just miss you. Tired of me already?” She asks, with innocent veneer.

“Of course not,” you say. “It’s good to hear from you, you're so busy now, I had to talk to your secretary,” you teased. She was busy, but you’d already done the calculation of Jenna’s timezone to yours—for her, filming would’ve just wrapped up in the midnight hours. For you, the setting sun was just beginning to stream through the glass walls, and you pressed the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains.

“Well, if you’re not busy,” Jenna presses on casually, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jenna,” you smile. It was a dialogue you two had often, something you never tired of. 

“Mmm,” Jenna’s voice tugs in your stomach, lilting into a whine at the end of her emission, “I miss you, baby.”

Your mouth goes dry; it’s an automatic reaction. Damnit, this girl—she knew what kind of effect she had on you. You were glad the room was dark, because if you had to face your own blushing cheeks in the light, you might’ve just collapsed. You pull the phone away from your ear long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you, Jen?” Keeping your voice composed, you roll the end of the duvet between your fingers to keep you grounded.

“Miss you so much,” she says, the rustling in the background telling you she’s rolling on the covers. She lets out a lilting laugh, the sound sending a swooping, giddy feeling into your stomach. Jenna’s trying to lure you in; it was her game: enticing you with that docile, persuasive tone.

You decided to play, though you held back just a bit. “How much?”

“Some of your clothes still smell like you,” she says in lieu of a direct answer. “So I’m wearing your big shirt, the black one.” You’d been wondering where that shirt went, one you often slept in. Even now, you can see in your head how Jenna looked when she stole that shirt: it cut off at her thighs, the kind of sacrilegious short that inspired crimes. It reminds you of countless times she’d surprised you, when you slid your hands up under the hem to find—

“What else, Jen?”

“No bra,” she replies sweetly, laughing lightly at the end. 

“No bra, huh,” you repeat. You can practically feel your pupils dilating, the heat around your collar. “Good.”

“And this,” Jenna sighs, “lace number I got here; it looks like the one you gave me last year.” 

Your jaw clenches, and you glance at the clock, looking but not seeing. You remember what she’s talking about—a pair of panties, an expensive little excuse for fabric that grew dark at the slightest moisture. Jenna’s birthday had ended in a long, long night.

“It’s red,” she says, “just like my nails.”

Fuck. Everything feels hot, and you can just picture her in that standard issue trailer, lights dimmed, alone in a way that should be illegal. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot… got an early morning tomorrow.” There's a trailing edge of disappointment in her voice, but you’re familiar with her—she’s looking, hoping for you to guide her, to push her in the way only you know how.

You breathe in, deeply, your own desire quickly falling prey to Jenna’s. She had you wrapped around her little finger, that’s for sure, but she trusted you to hold her down. “Hand in your hair, Jenna. Gentle,” you instruct.

You hear her sharp inhale, but you have no question that she’ll listen. When Jenna gets like this, playful but pliant, you know she’s willing to go with just about anything you ask. It’s torture for you, each second you wait. “Now pull.”

Her responding whimper sends a bolt of heat down your neck, and you let out a silent breath. Jenna loved it when you would touch her hair, even when it was as innocent as just braiding it. The haze in her eyes when you’d tug on her locks, telling her how good she feels, was your favorite. “Harder. Do you like it?”

She breathes out, “yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what’s been on your mind to get you eager like this.” She’s shy, you hear it in her sigh, even though her hands are still running in her hair. “C’mon.”

“I miss your mouth on my neck.” The words tumble out of her almost immediately, and you dare to wonder if that’s been on her mind all day. The bruises you’d left there before filming started were long gone, no doubt. She’d begged you to make them darker, and you were all too happy to please. “I miss the car, before the airport…”

Those frantic, heated ten minutes you two were able to spare in the car before Jenna’s flight were chastised by her manager and makeup team, but you wouldn’t have traded them for anything. “That’s perfect Jen,” you coax gently. She liked your encouragement, you knew. 

“And…” it’s as if something snaps in the air on the telephone line, pushing both you and Jenna’s inhibitions to the ground. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, the cliche line sending equally cliche butterflies rushing through your lower stomach. “I’d be on my knees for your cock right now, and you’d pull my hair, so I’d-” she whines, a small and breathless noise-“suck it so good ‘cause I know where it’s going next—”

“Fingers in your mouth,” you interrupt, blood rushing in your ears. “And listen to me.” If you’d let Jenna keep going, you might’ve just booked a plane ticket right then and there. You can hear her obey you through the speaker, moaning softly. “Play with your nipples under your shirt. Be gentle.” It’s a warning, you know she knows, and a reminder that you control her pace.

“Mmm,” she hums, complying. It’s practically confession on bended knee, how her muffled whimper makes something shoot through your lower stomach.

“Press down on your tongue.” You hear her breath shaking, right in your ear. It makes you bite your tongue to keep from moaning out loud. “Don’t gag, don’t be greedy, Jenna.” She whines around her fingers, and you know her telltale little cry as she touches herself as instructed. You can hear that she’s not being as gentle as you wanted, but you had always been weak for your girl.

“You wanna put on a show for me, honey? Twist.” You wouldn’t know it, but Jenna instantly closes her eyes at the word show, her pulse spiking.

Jenna’s uneven breaths are pure song to you through the speaker, and it puts your every nerve on edge, remembering how she would sprawl on your sheets, just like how you were now, happy to be over or under you. She’s so vocal tonight, every exhale coming out with a small oh, and it makes you wonder if it’s because of something more than just the distance and time between you two.

The cadence of her breathing matches your stuttering heart. “For someone that likes having her mouth stuffed,” you mutter, “you sure wanna talk real bad.”

The whimper Jenna lets out is enough of an answer.

“Alright babydoll, you can take your fingers out.” Almost immediately, you can hear her panting. You keep your voice even, despite the heat on your cheeks. “I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you?”

Her voice is raspy when she speaks. “I am…”

“Two fingers in your cunt.”

“What about-” you can hear her swallow- “what about my underwear?”

“Push it to the side,” you say, dismissive. You could practically see Jenna like this, warm brown hair splayed on the pillows, shirt rucked up to her breasts, with enough want to end a war.

It’s silent on the other side of the line, save for the shallow breaths you hear her taking. “Are you waiting, good girl?”

She hums an affirmative. 

“Go ahead, I won’t make you beg right now,” you say with a nonchalance you absolutely do not have, “fuck yourself.”

Her breathy laugh in response would drive a saint to sin, and she’s only all too eager to comply. Jenna’s shudder comes out in her moan as she shoves two fingers in herself, shameless in her need.

You close your eyes, her quiet little moan telling you all you need to know. The impatient groan she gives you is just vulnerable enough to be desperate, and it makes your head swim.

Jenna’s voice is small. “You know…”

“What is it, darling?”

“Wish I could put this on a camera for you, baby,” she whines, breath hitching. “Wish you could watch me right now.”

The mere thought of it is enough to have you biting your lip, hard enough to bleed. With the way that Jenna loved to perform, the idea had occurred to you before, but you were always too hesitant to bring it up. “You want me to see you, don’t you? Blushing and wanting all by yourself,” you mock, your arousal overriding your rationality, “you need someone to fuck you, is that it?”

“I need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I don’t remember it all, and,” her voice breaks, “you’ll make me watch our video later, to make me like this again.” You close your eyes again, your knuckles growing white around the sheets fisted in your hand. 

“Like what, Jenna?”

“Messy, and-” her voice climbs higher with a gasp-“needy.”

The words cling in your mind, ivy on a terrace. It only takes half a moment for your mind to conjure her up again, flushed cheeks and two fingers deep in her pussy, framed by red lace.

“Is that what you are, mmm?”

She gives a moan, and you laugh because she’s embarrassed. It’s nearly pathetic, how bad you wish you could see Jenna’s face.

“Want…” There’s a hesitant pause. “Want your hand around my throat, too.”

God, no one knew how to play you quite like Jenna did. “Jenna,” you groan, your facade rapidly crumbling, “you’d look so pretty like that, baby.”

“Yeah,” Jenna agrees mindlessly, “I like it ‘cause…” her voice is strained in a way that you just know she has her head thrown back, strong and delicate, “you’re so gentle.” It’s with a bleeding intimacy that momentarily makes you forget you’re thousands of miles away from Jenna, and the only thing you can think of is her warm eyes on yours, just begging for you to touch her.

She quiets down, and in the damning silence that follows, you hear her fucking herself. And because you know your girl, you know she wants you to hear.

“That’s filthy, Jen,” you say, matter-of-factly. It makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“I know,” she whines, and you can hear her going just that bit faster. “Fuck-” she exhales sharply- “I’m—I’m close.”

“Already?”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna whispers, and you know with every hitched moan, she’s hitting that spot inside of her. She’s not sorry, and you certainly aren’t either. “I can’t help it…”

You hum noncommittally, feeling anything but. “Don’t come until I say, alright?”

Jenna moans right into the receiver, and you can tell she’s frustrated to high hell. You laugh lowly, something cruel, and it only serves to fuel the way your fingers crave the smooth of her skin, how your tongue wants for her taste.

But that’s when you hear it, blazing through the fog in your mind, of brown eyes and pink lips. “Please…”

“Please what?”

She falters, breathing ragged. “Please let me…” A beat.

“Let you…?” You press on. 

“Please,” her voice edges on the right side of desperate, the side that makes all of you pulse. “Baby, I’m so close…”

“I know,” you say simply. 

There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and you know without seeing that Jenna’s cheeks are so red with her embarrassment that you could’ve slapped her and not gotten that same glow. You wait, patiently, nails biting into your skin.

“Let me come, please.” Her voice comes out like a quiet sob, resistance broken by her desire.

Letting out a long breath, you press the phone harder to your ear, feeling your fingers tremble. “You’re such a needy slut, Jenna.” She whines again, pleading and keening.

“I know,” she’s soft with it, “I am… so, please?”

You bite your lip, mind swimming, letting her plea hang in the air. 

“Come for me, Jenna.”

It's quiet, at first, and then you hear it—a soft, little ah from where she’s clapped a hand over her mouth, and then muffled moans spilling out from behind as she tries so desperately to not let anyone else hear. You clench your jaw, wanting so bad to tear Jenna’s hand from her mouth just so you can take in every little whimper, quiet her with your mouth instead. But you whisper praises into the phone instead, coaxing her through her orgasm. She comes hard, you can hear it in the way she pants after she’s calmed down.

Jenna’s breathing evens out, and you know it before she does—she’s asleep. Your eyes close again, fist clenched in your bedsheets. It wasn’t the first time that she’d fallen asleep right after she came, and it makes a soft little grin play on your lips. The other end of the line is a loving, sated silence. You keep your voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“God, the things I’m gonna do to you, Jenna.”

--

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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