#you are wonderful and I don't deserve your thorough kindness but i'll take it anyway >_< | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

another-supernova-girl · 7 days ago

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HOW. DARE. YOU. BE. SO. KIND.

@charliehoennam You never cease to absolutely make my day...or week, honestly. I have been coughing/sneezing/eye watering since Thursday night, and reading all your thoughts was just what I needed. Honestly, yourself and @jessy02 are the only people making me feel like there is any point in sharing my writing online at this point.

Hopefully by the time I put up part 2, you will have seen the movie, but also hopefully, I captured John well enough for everything to make sense without it. He is...kind, and shameless, and incredibly irresponsible, but so tasty to look at and he just broke my brain a little bit. Also, I hope you weren't too bothered by mentions of self harm (I put a lot of myself into my OCs, including Nikki, so...I guess that's something else we have in common?)

I could be here all day responding to everything, but some of it would probably give away parts of the 2nd chapter, so just let me say that I - as always - deeply appreciate the time you take to leave such thorough comments, and they really do help me mentally and emotionally, and help me feel like I'm not completely posting into the void...and thank you for taking this shameless journey with me 💙💙💙

Because the Night - John Woodruff (Oh Lucy!) x Fem OC - Part 1 (of 2)

(AKA Fuckboys Have Feelings, Too)

warnings : mild consensual sexual content, profanity, mentions of alcohol, mentions of self harm, mentions of past infidelity (not between OC and John) I watched Oh Lucy! after witnessing the gif sets of *that scene* and, oops, 10,000 words of fanfic happened. This was originally intended as a one-shot, but I've split it up due to the size of it. The second half is 90% complete and will be posted within a few days of this 1st chapter. Sorry, not sorry, to the OC haters, but no one else seems to be writing for this character, so...I'll write what I like! Gif is mine.

(( word count : ~ 5,700 ))

“Oh, no,” Nikki mumbled as she stood at the front door of a stranger's house, bags of food clutched in her hands, waiting to be delivered. The dwelling wasn't familiar, but the loudest voice emitting from inside, and upon second glance, a car parked a few houses down, were unmistakable, and a groan escaped her throat as a man she knew all to well opened the door.

“Nikki?” he asked, surprised, glancing at his phone for the displayed information of his assigned 'Dasher'. “Damn, if I'd known you were delivering, I would have left a bigger tip-”

“And I would have declined the job,” she mumbled, shoving the bags of Tex-Mex toward him. “Goodb-”

“Wait! Wait, don't...” the currently unemployed, former university professor John Woodruff spoke up, his voice quickly softening, barely audible against the loud music from inside that flowed through the open door. “Can I borrow you?”

“Borrow...no. No way, I gotta go-”

“Please? I need a favor-”

“I don't care-”

“Nikki, I really...look. I got invited to this party, and I didn't know my buddy was trying to set me up, and she is just...she's really not my type, and she won't leave me alone,” John whispered, his proximity increasing as he spoke against the noise from inside.

“John...why would I help you-”

“I'll...I'll pay you. I will literally give you money to keep this girl off my-”

“Dick?” Nikki offered, a smirk threatening to overtake her lips.

“...I was going to say 'back', but yeah, that too, I guess,” he mumbled, giving her those big pleading eyes that had an established history of making her brain go stupid.

“You'll pay me?” she finally asked to confirm, and the middle-aged beach bum nodded in the affirmative. “Is that, like...on top of the money you already owe me?” she inquired, watching his face blanch.

“I owe you money?” he whispered in an even smaller voice.

“Who do you not owe money, Professor?” she asked, and John squeezed his eyes closed, defeat taking over his features.

“Please?” he hedged, his brows knitting together as he opened his eyes again. “I will do whatever you want, I just really don't need this right now,” he implored, his body slumping against the door frame, his head cocked to one side.

Closing her own eyes, Nikki began to shake her head side to side slowly, letting out a sigh as she finally looked up at the looming man again. “Fine,” she breathed, and his eyes widened in genuine surprise, smiling in relief before glancing back over his shoulder to the party-goers inside. “Am I, like...supposed to be your fake girlfriend, or-”

“Yes!” John nearly shouted before lowering his voice, finally taking the bags out of her hands, watching her reach into her back pocket for her phone to pause deliveries. “You...you're amazing,” he mumbled, even as she continued to frown at her device, putting it away. “Just...pretend to be my girlfriend until this chick leaves, and I will...whatever you want, it's yours-”

“I thought you said you were going to pay me-”

“Yeah, like I said, whatever you want,” he mumbled, and she let out a frustrated sigh as she set the alarm on her car and stepped inside the house, John disappearing just long enough to set the food down in the kitchen, and reappearing almost immediately.

“Give me your hoodie,” she insisted when he stepped close enough to hear her over the thumping music.

“My hoodie?”

“Yeah, that's what girlfriends do, right? Steal their boyfriends' hoodies?” she explained, her arms crossed over her body like she was cold. John chose to ignore, for the moment, the etched lines on the inside of her forearm as he shrugged off his zippered jacket and stepped around her to assist her in slipping into it. “So, who are we putting on a show for?”

“A show?” he asked, slightly confused, watching her drag the metal zipper pull up to her collarbone, the oversized article swamping her smaller frame.

“Yeah, what girl are you so desperate to not fuck,” Nikki clarified, watching him as he nodded, following his gaze until he settled on a blonde across the room, staring back at them. John's bare arms wrapped around her before she could breathe another word. “She's...cute,” Nikki mumbled, her arms winding around the unemployed man's back, turning her head to glance away when the other woman's eyes focused on her own.

“She's a moron,” John mumbled, setting his scruff-darkened chin atop her crown.

“I thought you liked dumb girls,” she whispered, feeling his chest rise and fall against her from the close contact.

“Even I have my limits,” he claimed, his stomach announcing it's hunger and distracting them both. “Are you hungry?”

* * *

“So...since when do you deliver food,” John muttered between bites of his taco, Nikki sitting beside him on the front porch, away from the bulk of the noise, staring off at nothing in particular.

“Since my housing situation took a turn,” she returned, glancing over to the man beside her. Nothing on his face indicated surprise.

“Yeah, I, uh...I heard you and your guy broke up,” he mentioned, and she nodded, hunching forward to lessen the instinct to look at him. Even when he was irritating her, he still managed to look obnoxiously pretty. “You okay? I mean, aside from the...housing...thing,” he muttered, stuffing the last of his food into his mouth, and rubbing his hands together to rid himself of tortilla dust.

“I guess...I don't think I ever really let myself get too attached to him,” she mused, playing at the edges of the hoodie sleeves that fell past her fingertips. “As it turned out, he had a case of W.D.S., so...”

John's brows came together in confusion as he watched her avoid looking at him, “What is W.D.S.?”

“Wandering Dick Syndrome,” she confirmed with a nod, glancing his way with a less serious look when he chuckled at the explanation.

“I, uh...I don't think I've ever heard it called that,” he noted.

“I coined it,” Nikki added, and John nodded, trying to hold back any more laughter. Just because she could make a joke about it didn't necessarily mean she was unbothered by it.

“You sure you're okay?” John finally asked again, his facade a bit more serious as he reached out to brush loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I, uh...I noticed you started, um...I didn't know you were still doing that,” he mumbled, indicating her left arm, swamped in the fabric of his jacket.

“They're not that fresh,” she muttered, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, even in the temperate air. John's brows lifted at once as she let out a breath that tinged on a laugh. “You know, he, uh...he never noticed...not that I was exactly shoving it in his face, or anything, but...You know what?” she sigh, pursing her lips as she stared out at the road, cluttered with parked cars, their drivers filling the house behind the faux couple. “I don't really wanna talk about it.”

John was silent for several seconds, watching as she fidgeted more with the cuffs of the hoodie, trying to disappear even further into the oversized article. When he finally reached an arm out and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her in closer to himself, she put up no fight.

“So...why were you with that guy, anyway? I mean, if he wasn't worth getting attached to, or...” John queried, adjusting his body further to accommodate the young woman beside him as she nestled in against him, her temple against his shoulder, his large hand palming hers. Something about the lack of distance between them felt familiar, but he couldn't decide on the reason. They'd known each other for years, perhaps more than was ethical given the age difference between them, but nothing romantic or sexual had ever bloomed between them. Even so, something about it felt strangely natural to him.

“I dunno,” she finally spoke up, her left hand rising to meet his, their fingers clutching each others from over her shoulder. “I guess I was just...trying to fill up empty space.”

“So, you're saying you need your empty spaces filled-”

“Oh, my god, shut up,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, but her laughter escaped before she could contain it, and she felt the former professor's bristly chin rub against her crown, his free hand sweeping around to lift her own chin, enough for him to see some warmth return to her eyes.

“At least you smiled,” he whispered, his fingers brushing absently along her jaw. His gaze focused on her lips, the smile gone, replaced with something serene, and John's tongue ran between his own lips, quickly filling the space between before it disappeared, his body leaning in closer, Nikki's remaining quite still, save for her closing eyes.

“There you are!” came a deafening shout as the screen door slammed open, missing the 'couple' by inches, and distance automatically formed between them as John's arm dropped away from her shoulder, and they both looked behind themselves at the source of the intrusive voice. “We're outta beer, dude, we need you to go get more,” the boisterous man declared, caring not a bit about the intimate moment he'd pulverized. Before he could even speak up, John was immediately cut off. “Come on, man, you're the closest to sober...and I bought you dinner,” he reminded, his arms crossing as John let out a sigh. When John looked back at the young woman beside him, she shrugged but spoke no words.

“I...Alright,” he surrendered, dropping his arms as they completely abandoned Nikki, dragging himself to his feet as she did the same, crossing her own arms as she watched the inebriated man press cash into John's hand, and disappear back inside.

“Well, I think that's my sign to leave,” she mumbled as she began to unzip the borrowed jacket, but John's hand was on hers before she could separate the two, fleecy edges.

“Don't...don't go...come with me,” he encouraged, pocketing the cash with his other hand.

“I don't really think tha-”

“I know you don't wanna go home,” he cut her off, and her gaze rose to his umber eyes, his parted lips pursing as he stared back at her. “Besides,” he continued, glancing back at the house behind them both. “If you leave now, they'll never believe we're really dating,” he concluded, hopping off the porch and almost tripping as he nearly underestimated the height of the stairs, leading down to the congested driveway.

“Just what this situation needs...more alcohol.” Nikki's voice drifted off as she watched the middle-aged man jog through the grassy yard. Didn't it start a lot like this, last time, she pondered as she began to take strides toward the car she'd recognized earlier, old and worn and barely in one piece from the looks of it.

“You say something?” John asked, as Nikki reached the passenger door he'd opened on his way around to the driver's side, watching her as she slipped inside the car.

“Nothing,” she lied, feigning a smile at him before clicking her seat-belt into place.

After an uncomfortable minute or so of both passengers wondering whether the car was going to start, John making several attempts to fire up the engine before it finally caved to his intentions, the two set out down the winding road, passing several parked cars from the party-goers.

“I, uh...I hope it's the battery...I'm fucked if it's the alternator,” John spoke up in the silence, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, and not their almost-kiss on the porch. “Don't suppose you have any deliveries to pick up?” The look on his passenger's face when he glanced over was less than amused. “Sorry,” he quickly murmured.

“Aren't you unemployed? By choice?” she accused, her arms crossing as she stared at John, his brown eyes unusually focused ahead of him. “Some of us actually have to work to get by.”

“I wasn't trying to make fun of you,” he mumbled, his fingers flexing anxiously as he palmed the steering wheel. “I just...don't those gig jobs pay like shit?” he glanced her way, a bit relieved to see she wasn't staring him down any longer.

“It's not great, but...I need the extra money. And like you said, I, uh...I don't spend much more time at home than I absolutely have to. It fills the free time.”

“So, the extra money...you looking for a place?” he asked, bringing the car to a stop as the traffic light they'd been approaching shifted red.

“Not yet. There's nothing I can comfortably afford on my own, but...I really hate being home. It doesn't even feel like home anymore. Most nights, I don't even sleep there.”

John felt a discomfort in the pit of his stomach as he glanced her way, a handful of cars passing back and forth before them, “You aren't, uh...you haven't been...sleeping in your car-”

“No, nothing like that, I'm not...I haven't quite reached that level of desperation yet. I've mostly been bouncing around on a few friends' couches. I just hope I don't wear out my welcome before I've got enough money to move on,” Nikki explained, shifting her gaze from the road ahead of them to the man beside her.

“So...no chance of reconciliation?” John inquired as he drove, on the look out for a promising convenience store.

“I'd move out tomorrow if I could,” she huffed, shifting in the seat and drawing her legs up to cross them before her. “I mean...could you stay with someone who cheated on you? Several times, apparently.”

“I guess not,” he muttered, thoughtful. He wasn't sure if he'd ever had a partner cheat on him. Historically, more often than not, they just got sick of him and left. “'Could you be with someone who cheated at all?”

“Like...a man who's technically still married, but-”

“Separated,” John cut in.

“Not divorced,” she mumbled.

“That's...that's true,” he admitted, pulling off the main street and into a brightly lit gas station parking lot. When the car came to a stop, John shifted into 'park' and left the keys in the ignition as he climbed out of the car, motor still running, leaving without a word into the store, though taking care to not slam his door behind himself. He wasn't frustrated with her. After all, he had basically started the conversation that had led them to silence, again. And much as he preferred to hide from his responsibilities, he wasn't ignorant to the fact that most of those unpleasant aspects were consequences of his own making.

He was relieved to see a thoughtful look on her face when he returned several minutes later, packs of beer in his arms. At least she didn't appear angry with him.

John emptied his cargo into the back seat, and slipped back inside, into the driver's seat, buckling his seat-belt, just beginning to attempt speech again when Nikki suddenly spoke up.

“You know, I kind of have a theory about cheating. Do you wanna hear it?” she asked as she shifted her gaze to the driver. John nodded silently, dropping his hand away from the gearshift, making sure to lock the doors, shifting in his seat to give her his attention. “So, my theory is...you can't cheat on someone you really care about...someone you love.”

“I, uh...I'm confused-”

“Well, hear me out,” she mumbled, adjusting the seat until is slid back, dropping the back rest a bit, and placing her shoe-clad feet up on the dashboard. “I think that...if you're at the point in a relationship where you cheat, or...are considering cheating, or even tempted to put yourself in a situation where you likely would cheat...then you don't really love the person you're with, anymore. If you did, you wouldn't betray them.”

“So...are you in the 'once a cheater, always a cheater' camp?” he asked, considering her with all his faculties as she practically lie down beside him, his gaze following the shadows created from the harsh electric light outside.

“No,” she stated simply, turning her head to glance at him, his eyes taking a few seconds longer than necessary to make it back up to hers. “I think that...if someone cheats in a relationship, it's over. It's done. There's no coming back from that...there wouldn't ever be real trust, and it's basically telling the cheater they can keep getting away with it.” John nodded silently, and Nikki continued. “But...I do think that, just because someone has cheated in the past, it doesn't mean they'll cheat on someone else in the future. We just have to...I dunno, pay more attention? Know ourselves a little better? Recognize when something is over, and...not force ourselves to stay with people that don't make us happy?”

“Sounds like there's a story, there,” John mused, finally reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers between his passenger's.

“Not an interesting one,” she answered, shifting her gaze to their joined hands. “I cheated...a couple times, when I was younger.”

“Really?” John queried, his brows raised in surprise.

“I didn't exactly plan to...I dated a couple of crappy guys when I was nineteen, and...I guess, twenty-one? I think I put up with some subpar boyfriends, because they were the first guys I'd been with since junior year that wanted to be more than just situationships. It almost feels like actual boyfriends somehow seem to put in even less effort than fuckboys.” She paused for a few seconds before her gaze drifted up to his, again. “Why is that?”

“What do you...are you asking from the point of view of a boyfriend, or a fuckboy?”

“Which one do you have more experience being?” she asked simply, and John's brows drew together, eyes a bit more narrow than usual as he peered down at her.

“I'd rather not say,” he finally admitted.

“Which one you've spent more time being, or why one treats girls even worse than the other?”

“Both,” he answered, immediately, redirecting. “So, uh...you said you hadn't planned to cheat, so...what happened?”

“What hap-...Right, um...” she closed her eyes, having trouble concentrating. That was the trouble, one of many, that accompanied the older man beside her. Willfully or not, he had a knack for making even smart girls do foolish things. “Well, under...various circumstances...I ended up sleeping with other people while I was dating those guys, and I broke up with them not long after, but...cheating made me realize that I didn't want to be in those relationships anymore. It wasn't even a case of me, like...falling for someone else. It just made me realize how unhappy I was.” She glanced back to the man beside her, drinking in her every word, contemplation in his eyes. When he didn't speak up, she continued.

“So, the next time a situation came up, when I had an opportunity to cheat with someone I'd been involved with before-”

“Another ex-boyfriend?”

“No, another fuckboy...anyway, when he reached out, with the weakest attempt of an 'I just wanna hang out', I told him 'no', because it wasn't worth putting myself in a situation where I'd be tempted.”

John watched her for several seconds as she lie beside him, reflecting. He didn't speak up until she finally prompted him with a simple, “Well?”

“I was just thinking...if you were still dating your ex, would you be here, beside me?”

Nikki settled more into the reclined seat as she stared up at him, contemplative. “Pretending to be your girlfriend, or-”

“At all,” he interrupted, and she sucked in her bottom lip slightly.

“I, um...I don't know,” she admitted.

John was silent for several seconds as he studied her features, curious of how she really saw him. “Would you be tempted?” he finally asked.

Nikki opened her mouth, as if to speak, but no words came to her, and she glanced around for anything to look upon that wasn't his face, when her wandering eyes focused on the dials above the steering wheel. “I, um...I think we should head back, while you still have the fuel to.”

The ride back was fairly silent, and even as they gathered up the purchases from the back, and trudged along as they carried them inside, finding themselves among the other party-goers, they spoke very little. It wasn't until John unloaded the boxes of cans into an ice-filled cooler, and pulled out something fruity and sweet he'd picked up for her, that she finally spoke up again, “I should, um...I should really go...I think that blonde left, so-”

“I wish you'd stay,” he mumbled suddenly, his hands stilling in the spreading of the ice. “It's kind of nice to pretend.” To her own frustration, she couldn't bring herself to disagree.

* * *

The hour neared midnight as the party guests trickled away, neither Nikki nor John making any attempt to separate from one another. She'd lied, to herself at least, in the car. She'd never have stayed, if she'd been in a relationship. She enjoyed his company too much, and his attention, his handsome face, his voice, his everything. It wasn't that she wouldn't trust him, exactly...she didn't trust herself. And she let him do as he pleased, his chest against her back, his hands on her hips, thumbs in her belt loops as they swayed lightly to the music that had died down to a playlist of 2000's top 40. She was stirred from her contentment when he spoke up against the music, his mouth near her ear as he asked his question.

“Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?” he uttered against the cartilage. When her body stilled, he abandoned her belt loops to wrap his arms lightly around her waist. “Why were you so eager to leave when you saw I was here? I know it's not just about needing money.”

“...Internal conflict?” she finally ventured after a thoughtful pause.

“That's not much of an answer,” he responded, drawing her even closer when someone stepped past them, seeking out refreshment. “Is it just this, uh...” John paused, his hands gripping her sides as he drew her near enough that she felt the scratch of his jeans against the backs of her legs, skin bare below the hem of her shorts, “This...thing, between us...that we don't talk about?”

When she felt him lift the edge of his hoodie that fell below the back pockets of her shorts, dragging her layer of denim against the zipper of his, she felt something else between them beyond the awkwardness, his hands finding her hips.

“That's part of it,” she finally whispered when he leaned in again, and she felt the pleasant scrape of his patchy beard against her temple.

“What's the other part?” he whispered, their bodies swaying with the music, John's front against her back.

“I guess...I was kind of embarrassed, too,” she admitted, felt his arms wrap securely around her waist. “We do have a...weirdly large overlap of friends. I didn't need you hearing about it, too.”

“I hope you didn't think I'd give you a hard time over it, or-”

“No, that's not...I-”

“It's okay,” John murmured against her ear as he reduced the last hints of distance between them to nothing, every part of him that lined up, against her. “And he was an idiot,” he added.

“And what does that say about me?” Nikki managed, John's hands dipping below the edge of the hoodie that swallowed her up, reaching around her from beneath it to place his large hands closer to her skin, venturing no further as he waited.

“It says that you're...kind, and...patient. Maybe not the best judge of character,” he mused, and she let out an audible breath.

“Yeah, that's no secret,” she mumbled, and she felt his bare fingertips brush her midriff when they traveled past the hem of her shirt. “What are you doing?” Besides pushing my boundaries and tempting me into more mistakes-

“Pretending,” he rasped into her ear from behind, and she felt his hands at her waist again, felt him roll his hips when her back arched slightly against him, felt what she hadn't in a few years through the denim of his jeans. Ah, yes. The main reason she'd opted to leave before he'd even seen her face when she'd arrived.

“Well, you're...you're pretty convincing,” she mumbled as she felt his hands splay over the tops of her thighs, arching further against him when he ground against her.

“Nikki?” he rasped as he leaned over her shoulder, his fingers curling at the openings of her cuffed shorts, his blunt nails scratching her skin as he gripped the denim. When she managed a nearly inaudible 'Yes?' in reply, he continued. “Is anybody expecting you, tonight?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning her head to the side, glancing back at his shoulder, not venturing to gaze any higher.

“Like...is anyone expecting you to show up to their sofa?” he clarified, and she nodded slightly in understanding.

“I, um...I haven't reached out to anyone yet...I didn't exactly plan on being distracted so long,” she explained, and she felt him nod from behind, his thumbs brushing her thighs.

“If you need a place to stay tonight, you could just...I mean, I've got plenty of room,” he hedged, drawing his fingers back from the edge of her shorts when her body became still. “If you want to...I'd even let you take the bed,” he offered.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea,” she mumbled, and she felt his arms wrap around her again from beneath the hoodie she'd stolen.

“Can I ask you something else?” he finally spoke up after a short silence. When she nodded, he continued. “I know how this sounds, and I promise it's not me trying to be manipulative, but, um...do you...do you not trust me?”

“I...I don't trust me,” she admitted, and he released her when she began to shift in his embrace, turning toward him to look up to his handsome features. “And, I...I know where all that leads,”

“W-...Where do you think it's gonna lead,” he asked, watching her eyes as she blinked away from him, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Listen, John, I...I'm dealing with enough. I don't need old feelings getting stirred up-”

“Wait,” he spoke up a little louder, and lowered his voice to continue when he noticed a few people watching from across the living room. “Sweetheart, I-”

“Don't...Please, don't,” she plead, glancing around as well.

“Don't what?” John asked, his brows drawn together as he watched the young woman before him, his fingers finding the strings of his hoodie that she still wore, winding them lightly around his fingers.

“Don't call me shit like Sweetheart,” she implored, directing her gaze back to him, trying not to think about his large hands edging toward her face. “I really don't need that right now-”

“So, tell me what you need?” he cut in, his voice tempered but firm, his fingertips brushing along her jawline.

“I...I need to just...I don't know, relax for once. Not think about my ex, or my instability...or who I'm inconveniencing-”

“You are not an inconvenience,” John cut in, nudging her chin up with his thumbs, watched her eyes studiously as he considered her. “I wouldn't...Nikki, I wouldn't expect anything in return, that's...”

“I...I should go,” Nikki finally sputtered out, lifting her hands to the zipper pull, John immediately catching them and stilling her movements.

“Keep it,” he offered, nudging the metal pull back up the few inches she dragged it down. “Just, uh...just wait, okay? Let me walk you out,” he mumbled, stepping away as soon as the words left his mouth, Nikki swiveling to watch him cross the mostly empty room, down a hallway, gone.

If I were smart, I'd just leave, Nikki thought as she glanced around at nothing in particular, waiting. If I had an ounce of self-preservation-

“Hey!” she turned toward his voice when she heard it over her shoulder, found him reaching for her hand, and she allowed herself to be guided out of the dwelling, into the brisk air outside. When they had taken a few steps down the emptied driveway, closer to her car than his, his feet drew to a pause, his hand still grasping hers. “Hey, um...I want you to take my number,” he remarked, carefully grasping her arm and tugging the sleeve of his hoodie up to the elbow, the scars along her inner arm in various stages of healing, ending three or four inches from her wrist. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a permanent marker he'd swiped on his trek back through the house, popping the cap off and scrawling numbers onto her arm. “You don't have to give me yours, but...if you decide you wanna talk, or...put me in your sleepover rotation,” he paused, watching her face as he spoke, grateful at the tiny smile that tugged at her lips. “I'd even keep my hands to myself...if that's what you wanted,” he quipped, and her slight smile spread into a full one.

“Because you did such a swell job of that tonight,” she noted, and he shrugged.

“We were pretending, right?” he pointed out, though their faces both displayed a look that acknowledged that wasn't exactly true.

“Are we still pretending?” she whispered out as she felt him inch closer, wrapping his arms around her waist once more, but keeping his hands as innocently placed as he could.

“No,” he finally admitted as he leaned in, tilting his head to one side, pausing for the briefest moment when he closed in, pressing his lips against hers when she showed no further hesitance. “Nikki?” he whispered when he edged away again.

“I can't-”

“You don't have to-”

“John, I...you really don't remember, do you?” she asked, staring at the screen-printed logo of a mostly forgotten surf brand across his chest. He looked quite lost when she finally glanced up at his face. “Do you remember a party at Scott's, a few years ago? In the summer?”

“I...sorta,” he answered, the memory hazy. How many dozens of parties had he been to since? How much alcohol had he poured down his own throat?

“Okay, do you remember that...that was the last time we saw each other until tonight?” she continued, prodding him toward an answer he wasn't certain of, yet.

“K-...Kinda? I was, uh...I was drinking pretty heavy, then,” he admitted, reaching up to scratch anxiously at his scalp.

“That, you were.” she agreed, and John's anxiety began to form an ache in his stomach as he stared upon her.

“Nikki, what...did I do something to y-”

“It's not...it's not what you're thinking, don't...it was consensual, but, uh...we slept together,” she finally admitted aloud what she had not confessed to anyone else, in all that time. “I was...kinda drunk, and you were really drunk, and, uh...it lasted all of fifteen seconds,” she revealed, letting out an audible breath as she smiled faintly, shaking her head slightly at the memory. “Not much to remember, I guess, but, um...it wasn't exactly my finest moment...or decision,” she continued, rolling her eyes as the recalled that night. “I mean, if anything, I-” Her words ceased in her throat as she felt John's large hands grip her shoulders, pressing his lips against hers once more, probably not for the second time, he realized.

“I'm sorry...I don't remember any of that...I mean, I remember seeing you, and...I think I remember getting laid, but...is that the real reason you've been avoiding me all this time?” he questioned, and she shrugged apathetically. “Fuck...no wonder you don't trust me-”

“John, shut up,” she mumbled, sighing as she lifted a hand to press her fingers to his lips. “I already told you...I trust you. I just don't trust m-” her words were cut off once more as his lips found hers again, but he didn't draw away just as quickly, as he had before.

“Nikki,” he mumbled, his arms winding around her waist, dragging her closer to his body, swaying lightly as he held her, as they had in the house. “I know you think I'm this...perpetual man-child,” John whispered, and his arms tightened so slightly when she let out a wordless sound in response. “And I can't take back whatever happened that night...but I would, if I could, if that would fix...what?”

“You know...saying you'd take back sex with me isn't as flattering as y-”

“I'd go back and fuck you right if I could,” he clarified, and her response dried up in her parched throat. “I'm not gonna lie and say I haven't thought about it...at least a dozen times,” he continued, his embrace unceasing. “I don't like seeing you in pain, especially when I can help...even if it just means giving up my bed for the night.”

“John-”

“Just think about it, okay? Even if it means...you waking me up at four in the morning or something, that's fine. Okay?” he urged, standing straighter when she finally peered back up at him.

“Okay,” she finally whispered, and he nodded, leaning in once more to place a practically chaste kiss against her lips. “Are you staying?” she mumbled as he dropped his forehead to rest lightly against her own.

“No, I'm gonna head home...not much point in staying if you're leaving,” he confirmed.

“Assuming your car even starts,” she murmured, and he smirked, brows quirked.

“Don't even joke about that,” he answered, glancing down to his car, parked before the neighbor's house, along the street. “Maybe you should walk me to my car, instead,” he advised, shifting his eyes back to hers.

🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥

tagging : @gissellec1 , @sashimeep , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock , @lucy-sky , @pinkflowerwombat , @one-of-thewalkingdead , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

#you are wonderful and I don't deserve your thorough kindness but i'll take it anyway >_<#comment reply #part 2 coming as soon as i feel well enough to complete it

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