#I kept wishing it was over and it kept going

[takeyourcyanide]

they were already incredibly suspicious to me, every last one of those supposed “professionals.” i think I’m more suspicious than I ever was now - somehow that was possible. I’m even more apprehensive, perhaps even fearful.

solidarity between people who want to take psychiatric meds to function and those who don’t.

What’s important is that we both have autonomy, informed consent and safe access to treatments we want, and to not be forced, coerced or pressured into those we don’t.

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[shomatoriashi]

11/26/24; 10:00pm

sylus x fem.reader (non mc)

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

notes: once a sylus girly, always a sylus girly…

admittedly, your first meeting with sylus occurred in a more… unorthodox manner.

that night, you had just gotten off a late shift at work, feeling the cool air cause slight shivers to course through you. you hug your coat tighter to your form all while taking in your surroundings.

as you kept walking, you became aware of a suspicious pair of footsteps that seemed to follow your every move.

when you stopped, the same lingering steps would stop as well.

each time you would turn a corner or dash to the other side of the street-

you swore you could feel the hairs raising at the back of your neck at the strange sensation of being watched and followed.

not wishing to lead this bastard straight to your apartment, your eyes take in the sight of the neon lights that flash above you, reading the name of the bar as you entered crow’s haven for the first time.

the bar was dimly lit with a surprising number of patrons all scattered throughout the area. as your eyes take in the lavish furniture and the expensive alcohol everyone was consuming, you slowly began to realize just how out of place you were while in this high class bar.

the sounds of doors opening makes you stiffen, with you looking back to see an unfamiliar man walk in, dark eyes scanning the bar before landing on your frozen form. letting out a string of curses, you turn away from the entrance and began heading deeper inside of the bar, your gaze finally landing on a tall man with silver locks of hair.

you take in the sight of his pristine, black and red suit and make a beeline toward him. your hands reach out to grab at the ends of the expensive fabric, earning you a momentary look of disdain from the man as he acknowledges you with a narrowed, crimson gaze.

“what’s this? has a kitten gotten lost and found her way into a crow’s lair?”

shivers were felt running down your spine at the sound of his rich voice felt reverberating in your ear. “s-sorry, but, i need your help. can you pretend to be my boyfriend, at least until that fucker backs off?”

the man immediately straightens his posture, towering over you as he stood well past 6 feet in height. he places a hand on your shoulder, already seeing the unknown man making his way toward you.

“didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is to talk to strangers, sweetie?” you allow him to take a protective stance in front of you, gazing at the man who stalked you with a bored expression.

“hey man, i don’t mean no harm, just wanted to talk to that pretty lady over there.” the man gestures at you, yet before he can take another step a sudden click was heard, causing your stalker’s eyes to go wide when he was suddenly faced with a barrel of a gun.

“she’s mine.” those final words rang with such finality that you nearly fell to your knees. have you ever met a man that exuded such confidence before in your life? a man who’s beauty could rival that of gods themselves-

no, absolutely not.

the man backs away while stuttering out excuses, and to add insult to injury, your savior merely snaps his fingers as several men surrounded your potential stalker before physically escorting him out of the club.

relief courses through you, and you watch as your savior returns his gun back into the confines of his suit. the bartender already tends to him, refilling his shot glass of whiskey. as you take a moment to calm down your rapidly beating heart, you carefully step aside, “ah, thank you… for helping me back there. i should… probably head home-“

he stops you from moving forward by gently gripping at your wrist, “i don’t think that’s a good idea, kitten. after all, if you leave my safety, then there’s a chance that he’s standing out there, waiting for you.” crimson eyes now shone with amusement while he downs his shot of whiskey in a single gulp, not even fazed by the burn of the alcohol, “and i’ve already told him that you’re mine, kitten.”

unable to speak, you watch as he leans forward to take your hand in his, pressing a kiss at the back of it before telling you, “the name’s sylus… and i don’t mind keeping you under my protection until things settle down. what do you say?”

truthfully, you would be a fool not to take him up on his offer.

which lead you to where you are now, where sylus has been your “fake boyfriend” for close to two years now.

and that fact made you feel so giddy and stupidly in love with him.

sunlight streams through the window, painting your shared bedroom in brilliant hues. too happy to sleep in, you had woken up first to prepare some breakfast in bed for sylus in celebration of your anniversary. with several breakfast items on the tray, you tiptoe into the room, your smile breaking into a grin upon seeing sylus sleeping on his chest.

setting off your tray of breakfast to the side, you crept closer to the bed, wishing to tease your beloved a bit this morning. doing a countdown in your head, you land against sylus’s back, earning a grunt from him as you littered his skin with a plethora of kisses.

“hehe, morning sysy…”

sylus lets out a series of grumbles, slowly turning around so that he was lying back in bed while taking you within his embrace. “hmph… you’re up early. and you’re hyper, too.”

you gasp, “i am not hyper! i’m just incredibly happy today… and you know what today is, so don’t even pretend.”

a rich chuckle fills your ears, making you shiver once more in response. despite the millions of times you have basked in his voice, you couldn’t seem to get used to it, as it still sent pleasant sensations to course through you.

“truly… thinking back on that night when we first met- i was scared. i didn’t want some creep to know where i lived-“

“and so the lost kitten made her way inside a crow’s lair, seeking shelter.” a devilish grin spreads across sylus’s lips when he presses a quick kiss against your lips, “and the crow took pity on her and made a promise to keep her safe.”

“yeah…” you trail off and smile at the memory. deep down, you knew you were drawn to sylus and could sense that he was more than capable of protecting you.

you didn’t regret meeting him at all.

shaking your head, you break out of your reveries and smile back at sylus, “that’s why, i really wanted to celebrate our two year anniversary together. i decided to start off by making some breakfast in bed for you.”

you gesture towards the desk, earning a pleased hum from sylus. “i must say, that’s very thoughtful of you, kitten. however… i hope you won’t be too upset when i tell you that the type of hunger i have cannot be satiated by something as simple as food.” he frames at your face, smirk seeming to widen when he captures a lock of your hair and twirls it against his fingertips, “in fact, what i crave for is something far more decadent.”

“huh? what do you mean?”

sylus simply shakes his head, “instead of answering with words, why don’t i show you with my actions?”

“oh… okay…?”

you trail off, feeling your lips turn dry when sylus moves down your body, settling himself between your legs as he pushes up the fabric of your oversized shirt. his crimson gaze focuses solely on you while he breathes in your scent, settling his lips against your inner thigh. keeping his eyes shut, he basks in your scent before using one of his hands to grip at the waistband of your panties.

already, you felt the moisture beginning to pool between your legs, your breathing slowly turning labored when sylus pulls your panties down the rest of the way using his teeth alone. amusement and desire paints his gaze as he meets your slicked core, taking in the scent of your honeyed arousal before delving into your walls with his tongue.

the wet muscles was felt pushing inside of you, giving you such a hedonistic friction that had to be sinful with how good it felt. your hands automatically go into his hair, and you found yourself pressing your aching sex even deeper against him. sylus was relentless when it came to tasting you, drinking up all you had to offer as he made sure that not even a single drop of your arousal fell against the sheets.

playing your body with a familiar expertise, your back arches against the mattress as your climax rushes out of you in waves, your gasps quickly morphing into broken moans of his name, earning a pleased grunt from the onychinus leader.

your mind was in a daze after such an intense release, yet you remained in such a muddled state even as sylus pulled you closer to him by your ankles. rapid movements were felt below you, and when you blearily looked to the side, you felt your walls clench in response to sylus rapidly stroking his cock to full hardness before he presses his mushroom tip against your entrance.

“you drive me crazy, kitten. ever since the moment i laid eyes on you, you were truly mine.” he completes his statement by fully thrusting into you, bottoming out while setting a rapid pace. your legs wrap around his waist as you felt a newfound urgency at reaching your completion with him. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking echoes throughout the room while sylus continues to press lingering kisses against your damp skin all while hotly whispering into your ear-

“happy anniversary, sweetie… let’s celebrate by never leaving this bed.”

end notes: an unedited thirst post that needs to be written for all of the sylus girlies out there (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[xetlynn]

Can I ask for claggor x a piltover reader? She was raised in piltover and is very smart but was never ignorant to the condition of zaun and always tried her best to advocate and help the suffering people. I can imagine she would have a strong sense of guilt for loving claggor because she doesn't really understand the struggles he went through but will always try to help. <33 thank youuuu

Of course, I think I made this a little more dramatic than I meant to😭 but I hope this is good!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Mysterious

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: In which reader is from Piltover and makes a friend in Zaun. Feeling guilty for liking him since she doesn't understand his struggles.

My feet achingly moved seemingly before me. My back hurt as I carried a box full of stuff from Piltover to give to a friend in the undercity.

When I was younger I was so fascinated by the people of Zaun. About the difficulties they’ve been through. My mother was always bitter about them. Going on tangents about how the people from the undercity should be more grateful since everything is better now. And whenever she does that I have to remind her of their struggles to get to this wonderful position they’ve been creating for themselves. Supporting them only pisses her off further than before. She asks what about Piltover’s struggles which is never the point of my argument. 

We’re privileged enough to never know what it’s like going without food, running water and a roof being over our heads. Most of Zaun could or still to this day can not say the same. It’s something I’ve written about in school essays, joining groups to learn more about the undercity. 

As a younger teen I snuck into Zaun, wanting to understand them better, know them rather than read about their history. Hear it from the people themselves. I won’t truly ever know their struggles but I still wish to help them. Advocate for their history and their growth as a community. Help them be one with Piltover eventually without there being discourse of if they deserve it. 

Everyone deserves happiness, love, and a life without ridiculous danger. They deserve peace as much as the next person.

I was reckless when going to Zaun. Sneaking out of my house as a teen and somehow to the undercity without being caught will forever blow my mind. The reason I kept doing it though was after I sat down in this bar. It’s called The Last Drop. I just needed a place to rest after walking for miles. 

Talking with the people there. Not really a scene a young teenager should be in but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to their stories. And they always enjoyed having me around. Seeing me as a niece of some sort.  Hearing the first one made me want to hear more. Hence why I kept coming back. And more recently there's a new reason.

I met a new friend. His name I still don’t know. He never properly introduced himself to me. Not by his birth given name but by the first letter. He wanted me to guess. 

It’s been 3 months and he has yet to tell me what it is. Or in his words I didn't guess good enough.

I guess his father was the owner, Vander is his name. I’ve met him a few times but I never sat up at the actual bar. Just in a corner keeping to myself before I went to adventure out into Zaun after hearing random stories.

When I met C he had started working more hours at the bar to help out since it was getting busier and busier after some time with people from the Uppercity decided the place was a hit. I guess he worked earlier shifts so that’s why we never crossed paths when I first started going there. 

C and I hit it off slowly in the beginning.  

It was a rough start since we both had different upcomings. I didn’t know what it was like to have to get my hands dirty and work for things I want or need. I’ve always just… had it. 

Talking about C’s childhood and things he went through as I had nothing bad to say except for the fact that my mother is a witch of a woman. It made me realize how weird I am for being so interested in others' lives. It made me realize I don’t have a life of my own. I want to fix people who don’t need to be fixed. They’re perfect the way they are, no matter what they went through. They don’t need me to stick up for them. I also figured out that I’m falling for a friend, who again… I don’t know the name of and we will never share a similar story. He deserves someone who understands the same livelihood he knows. Someone who can appreciate things more than I ever could.

“[Name]!” A voice shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. “C!” I grin, shimmying the box in my hands. “Is this everything?” He takes it from me with furrowed eyebrows, looking it over. “Mhm, every single thing you asked for.” I place my hands on the back of my hips, stretching to crack my back. Letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards. 

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle, leading me into his apartment that he and his brother share. “Yeah, I definitely got my exercise in for the day.” I half-heartedly joke, shutting the door behind us and he places the box down on the counter. “What is the food for, exactly?”

When he first requested the stuff from me, he told me it was for an experiment. Not really saying much after that. A few foods and then things you can really only get in Topside. 

“To eat.” He grabs an apple and bites into it. My shoulders fall, not expecting that answer. For some reason I thought it was going to be something cooler. “Oh.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I was hungry when I was putting in that request.” He rubs his stomach sadly. 

I shake my head with a smile. “It’s okay. So can I know what this project is now?” I hop up on the barstool in his kitchen. “It’s a secret.” He says briefly, putting the food away in his counters. I frown. “Dang, keeping another thing from me, C?” I tilt my head. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, by being a mysterious, interesting man. Don’t want you getting sick of me.” He quipped, now giving me his full attention after placing the box on the ground. I glanced down at it then back to him. “I’ll always find you interesting. Maybe even more if you just tell me your name.” I pout.

Have I mentioned that I don’t know his name? No? Yeah, don’t know it. 

“Soon.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. I smack his hand away. Attempting to fix what he did. “I hope so.” I cross my arms. 

“I wish you could guess it. You didn’t even try hard enough.” He exclaims, my jaw drops at his words. “I can’t think of anything else! It has to be some sort of crazy unique name!” I utter, throwing my hands in the air. He lets out a belly laugh, “It’s not super unique.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, jokingly annoyed. “I told you my name.” I murmur. “That’s because you’re not mysterious like me.” He purses out his lips, doing a little peace sign. “I know almost everything else about you. You are not mysterious.” I point a finger at his chest. “Really? What’s my favorite color?” 

“You tell people it’s blue but it’s actually yellow. Like dandelion yellow.” I raise my brows, making a face that expresses that he should try me. “Okay, pssh, lucky guess. Favorite food?” 

“Halibut, but only when it’s fried because you’re weird.” I tease, his eyes seem to widen at my words. “See, not so mysterious, huh?” I cross my arms. “Two things. That’s all you answered.” He walks away over to the living room. Plopping down on the couch. I stand up, rushing over to him. Bouncing on the cushion beside him. My hands holding his shoulder as I shake him. “Then ask more questions. I have the answers~” I sang out, leaning back. 

“Fine, how old am I?” He raises a brow. I put a finger on my chin, pretending like I was thinking. “21.” I simply say. “Okay, I never told you that. How’d you get that?” He scrunches his nose in confusement. I laugh. “Honestly I truly guessed that time. I’m 21 and I always figured we were the same age.” I snicker. 

“Wow, okay. Next question, how many siblings do I have?” I think back to conversations we’ve had or the time I bumped into his brother Mylo. He always talks about a girl named Powder. I want to say there’s one more though. I just can’t remember…

“... three?” I estimate. “Or two.” I perk up my posture. “Hm, it’s three. You really do listen.” He hums out. “Yeah, it’s Mylo, Powder and I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got the last one’s name.” I press my lips together, trying to rack it in my head. “Violet. She passed away when we were younger.” He sighs, I look at him through my eyelashes not wanting to make full eye contact as my heart drops.. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “It’s alright, [Name]. You didn’t know.” He gives me a smile. It goes silent between the both of us. “Um… can I ask how? If not I totally understand. I don’t want to push that topic.” I shake my hands at the thought of forcing him to say something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“We were doing a stupid thing in Piltover. Sneaking into someone’s house. Just trying to get a few things for our dad. Extra money in his pocket. Something exploded. The impact unfortunately killed Vi.” He seems spaced out as he tells the story. I reach out and grab his hand.

I remember when that incident happened. It was all anyone talked about for a while. An undercity child passes away in an explosion after breaking into a scientist’s home. My mom… was an ass about the situation. 

“Any more questions?” I make an effort to switch the conversation so he doesn’t get upset due to my questioning of his sister's death like the dumb idiot that I am.

He looks down at my hand that was on top of his. “Claggor.” He suddenly says. I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Claggor?” I question, was that something I had to answer? “My name.” He mutters out. 

My mouth goes into the shape of an 'o.' Claggor... An interesting name for an interesting man like him.

“Hm… cute. It fits you.” I squeeze his hand before letting go. I didn’t even notice the dusty rose color across his cheeks. He mutters out a small thanks before we continue the conversation of me knowing certain things about him.

The entire time I think back to his sister, my chest aching. They were only kids trying to help their father. Not knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it back home. How devastating. 

“You okay, [Name]?” He sits up, turning his body to face me. I fake a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” How am I supposed to be his friend if I carry guilt that has nothing to do with me? How can I like him and not be able to understand him? It’s idiotic looking. It makes me look selfish, turning other people's problems into my own. “Thinking about?” 

“Your name. How I never guessed it.” I force out a chuckle that sounds like a high pitched animal making me wince in embarrassment afterwards. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks me again. 

“I’m fine, Claggor.” His name rolls off my tongue easily. Like it was meant to be said from my lips.

“I remembered I have somewhere I need to be. My mom will kill me if I’m late. See you later?” I ask him, blinking tears away as I abruptly get up. “Um, yeah. Tomorrow?” He gets up with me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t. Family thing.” I lied. “Oh, maybe the next night? Mylo wants me to go to this party where his crush is djing. I do not want to go.” He laughs, walking me to his front door. My stomach flips, not knowing how to respond. “Maybe, I’ll let you know the day of.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay, okay. I don’t mean to cling. I just like spending time with you.” He smiles softly. I avoid eye contact. “Me too, Claggor.” I whisper before pulling him into an embrace. 

He lets out a small yelp of surprise before his hands slowly snake around my waist. “You’re a good friend, [Name].” He mumbles into my shoulder. Tears begin to threaten my eyes once again. “You’re a better one.” I pat his back before letting go. “See you.” I curtly wave before leaving. 

Man, I’m an idiot. 

It’s the day of the party, I haven’t left my bed since I came home after leaving Claggor’s house. My head racing with a million thoughts about how selfish and ridiculous I am. Cringing at all the conversations I’ve had with my friends about the Undercity. How incredibly obnoxious it always sounded. 

How strange I look just being this upset about everything. I wonder if Claggor thought the same about me. How strange it was that a girl was so wrapped up into his struggles. I would never want to tell him that either because I’m overthinking. I know I am. 

He’s my friend. He would tell me if I was being over the top.

Right? 

Right.

Stop it brain. 

A knock at my door echoes in my room. “Yes?” I call out, not bothering to get up. The door creaks open. “[Name] there’s someone here to see you.” A house worker tells me. I sit up, tilting my head confused on who would be here. “Um, tell them I’ll be right down.” I say, climbing out of bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my robe from my vanity, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slip my feet into my house slippers. I look like a mess but I don't care. It’s probably just a school mate to ask about some homework we have. 

I exit my room, heading down the stairs. I see Claggor and my body freezes in place. Staring down at him. Shit. I look like a mess! And that is not a school mate. 

He was looking around my home before his eyes locked with mine. His face erupts into a smile. “Just wake up or something?” He teases and my face flushes in response. “Uh- yeah, slept in.” I awkwardly chuckle, walking towards him. “How’d you know my address?” I asked him. “Also, why are you here?” 

“Well, first I bumped into one of your friends I met before. She told me you lived here. Second ouch, I can just leave if you want me to.” He points to the front door and I roll my eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just wondering, I was gonna come to you.” I cross my arms, and when I do his eyes flicker down to what I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m extremely aware of how I look. My hair a mess, face puffy, and wearing a fancy robe with slippers. Weird combination. 

“I felt like when you left yesterday it was a bit… off? You seemed like you were about to cry so I thought I’d come here and maybe talk to you about that.” He fidgets with his hands, I observe his demeanor. He seemed extremely anxious. “Oh, I told you I was fine. Might’ve had something in my eye.” I shrug lying straight out of my teeth. 

“You know how I said you are not mysterious like me?” He asks. “Vaguely.” I smile but not understanding why he’s saying that. “It’s because you aren’t a mystery at all. Maybe I’m not either since you seem to know quite a bit about me. Anyways, not the point.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You don’t hide your emotions well. You’re an open book just by looking at you.” He chuckles and I tense up, feeling a little offended. He notices and sighs.

“What I mean is, when I first met you I knew you were a very empathetic person. Your emotions are what drives you to be who you are. I really enjoy that about you. I never thought someone could cry over a bug they killed until I met you.” He laughs at the memory of when we were hanging out one day at the bar and a bug was on the floor by my foot. I stomped on it and immediately felt bad. Thinking about the fact that it could’ve had a family. 

“You care so deeply for people you’ve never met. Wanting them to succeed even if it means you are risking your own happiness to do so.” He says softer than all his other words. “I hope you know that you have never upset me by asking your questions.” His eyes find mine and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He read me like a book. He practically studied me. I don’t even know how to respond. 

“I know that’s why you got upset. My sister passing away. I don’t mind that you asked. It happened as unfortunate as it is. You didn’t know and you wanted to. Because you care.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I look down at his arm then back to his face. “Please don’t feel bad for caring.” 

My eyes begin to water and I pull him into a hug. “I don’t deserve your friendship.” I mumble into his chest. “I think you do.” He disagrees. 

“I like you, Claggor.” I told him. “Like a lot. I care for you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I’m scared that I can’t be what you need. I want to be. Everything and more.” I confess, pulling away from him. “Did you know that? Was I not hiding that emotion well either?” I try to uplift the mood. 

“I didn’t have a clue actually.” He grins. “I like you as well. Like a lot. You are everything I need and more. I promise you that.” He pulls me back into his arms, looking down at me as I look up at him. 

He closes the distance between us, his lips landing on mine. It was a short, soft kiss but it was something I never felt before. Shivers sent down my spine. I flutter my eyelids open, both of us smiling ear to ear like giddy little kids. Taking in the moment for a few seconds.

“Does that mean you’re going to join me at this party that I’m soooo excited about?” He sarcastically asks and I giggle in response. “I guess so. I definitely need to clean myself up first though.” I motion to my hot mess of a state that I’m in. “I think you look beautiful in this. Don’t even need to worry about changing.” He jokes and I lightly hit his arm. 

“What a liar.” I fold my arms. “Hm, maybe a little. Want me to come back to pick you up?” 

“You could hang out in my room while I get ready. Maybe choose my outfit?” I propose and his eyes light up. “Yeah, let’s go.” He happily responds. 

[livinghalfway]

Magic Mirror

Summary: A magic mirror shows what a person desires most in the world. It shows Damian his twin standing next to him. Word Count: 1202

“Come on Damian, all you have to do is stand in front of it.” Dick pleaded with him while gesturing for him to step closer to the magic mirror they had recently obtained from a villain’s lair. 

It was a rather plain mirror as well for being a rare magical item; nothing but a full length mirror with a simple black frame. The only interesting thing about it was that it had the ability to show what a person desired most in life when they stood in front of it. 

Once that little trick was discovered the others had quickly jumped at the chance to stand in front of it. Which was foolish in Damian’s opinion; allowing everyone in the room to view your deepest desire. 

“Tt, I think not Richard; I after all already know what the mirror will show me.There is no point in me standing in front of it.” 

Before Dick can continue his beseeching his case though Jason cuts in from across the room; next to the mirror. “Oh yeah? What do you think would show up, Demon brat; you dressed up as Batman?” 

“He wishes,” Tim snickers next to Jason, “It’s probably gonna be something embarrassing and that’s why he doesn’t want to do it.” 

"Drake, if you know what's good for you you'll stop talking!"

Tim gives Jason a nudge with his elbow before loudly whispering, "That sounds like a conformation if I've ever heard one." 

"Tt, how dare-" Damian is quickly cut off from his incoming tirade by Dick jumping back into the conversation.

"Okay! Let's not start arguing with one another." Dick says to all of them before directing his focus towards him, "Damian, if you really don't want to try out the mirror you don't have too. No one is going to force you to." 

Damian merely rolls his eyes as he walks towards the mirror. The only reason he does so is because being Robin is what he desires the most; he knows it. Looking into the mirror will merely be about proving Drake and Todd wrong. "I'll do it Richard if only to shut these two imbeciles up." 

The moment he stood in front of the mirror waiting for the magic to change the reflection Damian knew that he shouldn't have let Tim and Jason get to him. He had done something foolish and there was no going back now as the mirror swirls with a gold shimmer. 

When the distorted image clears once more Damian swears he feels his heart stop. The reflection shown is not one a million years could have prepared him for. It is not him standing at his father's side, Batman and Robin, as he thought it would have been. 

Instead it shows Damian exactly as he is at the moment. He would almost think the mirror didn't change anything if it weren't for the boy in the mirror standing next to him. Even after all these years it was someone he would never be able to forget. 

His twin brother, Danyal, and him standing side by side once more. While Damian stands rigid and shocked, Danyal's posture is relaxed. He's even smiling as he leaning towards him until their shoulders touch in the reflection.

He doesn't feel it though; he wants to feel it. 

All of a sudden it hits Damian that this is what he desires the most out of everything in the world. The only thing he wants is for his brother to be alive and with him at the manor. With the family Danyal not got the chance to know; the family that doesn't even know he exists. 

In the blink of an eye the magical gold swirls take over the mirror once more, and when it clears it is once again just himself looking back at him. 

After what must be an eternity of staring at the mirror Damian realizes that everything around him is too quiet. He snaps his head to the side where his brothers are, and sees the three of them staring back at him. All of them are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity at what they had just seen. 

He considers lying at first. Saying that he had no idea who the boy was. He can't find it in himself to do that though. Damian had kept his brother a secret long enough; maybe it would be good for the others to know. "That Richard was my twin brother; Danyal." 

With those words Damian practically collapses on the nearest chair; feeling drained and exhausted. The others follow suit as they too take seats next to him. 

"Danyal … Danyal was kind. He understood people much more than I ever will." He takes a deep breath, "He was smart and curious. Always asking questions and wanting to understand everything around him. It was always the stars that fascinated him the most."

"Sounds like a good kid," Jason starts, "must have gotten all the friendly genes in the womb."

"For once I think I agree with you, Todd." 

The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. It is luckily broken after a few seconds by Tim's hesitant question, "What happened to him?"

That was the big question wasn't it? What happened to Danyal; to the twin and brother that wasn't with him when he arrived at the manor?

"Danyal … died a couple years before I came here. The two of us were attacked by a group of rogue assassins after our study lessons." Damian swallows, his throat feels tight, "I wasn't as focused as I should have been, and Danyal ended up taking a fetal hit meant for me."

"Damian-" 

"Let me finish, Richard." He snaps. He doesn't think he would be able to finish if otherwise interrupted. "Danyal was dead by the time he was finally brought to the pits. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but I didn't think it would take him completely. His body was never recovered from the pits.I never got to bury my brother." 

It's when his vision starts to blur that Damian realizes that he's crying. Danyal always did have a way of making Damian show emotions that he would rather keep hidden.

He feels himself being pulled into a chest, and for now he doesn't fight against it. Damian's not sure if he honestly could at the moment. 

“Father doesn’t know about this.” Damian continues after a few minutes of silently sobbing in Dick’s arms. 

“He needs to know.” Tim states, “Maybe not today, but soon.” 

“You tell him when you’re ready, short stack. The old man can deal with not being told right away.” Jason reassures him when he doesn’t answer Tim right away. 

"What am I not being told?" Damian feels as if he's been dunked in water when he realizes that his Father had heard the end of their conversation. 

"Father."

"Damian?" Bruce takes in his youngest son's appearance and it doesn't take a genius to know that he's in some kind of emotional distress.Which in of itself is very rare for him to be in.

"Father, please take a seat. There is something I need to tell you." 

[strnilolover]

NNN - chris sturniolo - pregnant

You let out a long, exhausted sigh as you settled into the couch, one hand cradling your round belly and the other rubbing the small of your aching back. The baby had been sitting low all day, and no amount of shifting, pillows, or stretches seemed to help.

Chris, who had been scrolling through his phone on the opposite end of the couch, glanced over at you. He frowned, setting his phone down as he noticed you wince while trying to find a more comfortable position.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his tone laced with concern.

“Yeah,” you said, though your voice betrayed you. “My back’s just killing me. I’ll be fine.” you muttered, trying to brush it off as no big deal like you normally did.

Chris didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his eyes on you as you tried — unsuccessfully — to adjust again. Finally, he stood up.

“Alright, I want to try something,” he said, moving toward you with a determined look. You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘try something’? Chris, what are you—”

“Just trust me,” he interrupted gently, holding out his hands to help you up. “It’s nothing crazy, I promise.” With a curious look, you took his hands, letting him pull you to your feet. You groaned as the weight of your belly immediately pulled on your back again.

“Turn around,” he said softly, positioning himself behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, still confused but willing to go along with whatever he had planned. “Chris, if this is some kind of weird massage thing—”

“It’s not,” he cut in, his hands carefully sliding around your belly. “Just hold still for a second.” You tensed slightly as his hands cupped the underside of your belly, but then he gently lifted, taking the full weight off your back. The relief was so immediate and overwhelming that you gasped.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, your head tilting back slightly to rest against his shoulder as the tension in your back melted away. “Chris… what are you doing?” you mumbled.

“Helping,” he said simply, holding your belly steady as he peeked over your shoulder. “I saw this thing earlier, and I thought it might work. Does it?” he asked.

“Does it?!” you exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Chris, this feels amazing. How did you even think of this?” you retorted.

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I just hate seeing you in pain. If I can take some of the weight off for a bit, I’ll do it.” he stated — and it was true. He was the one who did this to you in the first place.

Your chest tightened at his words, warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned back against him even more. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” you say softly.

“Not possible,” he teased, swaying slightly as he kept holding your belly. “You carry this around all day, every day. This is the least I can do.” You sighed contentedly, letting yourself relax into him. “I wish you could do this forever. I feel like I’m floating.” say say, the relief laced into your voice.

He chuckled softly, his hands steady under your belly. “Yeah, well, I don’t know about forever. My arms are starting to feel it already.” he teased lightly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t you dare let go,” you warned, half-joking but entirely serious. Chris laughed again, a low, warm sound in your ear. “I’ll give you a little longer, but you’re gonna have to figure out another way to bribe me if you want more time.”

For a few minutes, the two of you stood like that, swaying slightly as he held your belly. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, and the pain that had been nagging at you all day was nothing more than a distant memory.

But then, slowly, Chris eased his grip, lowering your belly back to where it naturally rested. The relief vanished almost instantly, and the familiar ache shot through your back like a rubber band snapping.

“Chris!” you whined, leaning forward slightly as you tried to ease the discomfort on your own. “Why’d you stop? That was perfect!” He smirked, coming around to face you. “Because my arms aren’t built for holding that forever. Besides, you’re the one with super strength, carrying this around all day.”

“I don’t want super strength,” you pouted, shifting your weight and rubbing your back. “I want you to hold it again.” Chris leaned in, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You’re so cute when you’re dramatic,” he teased.

You swatted at his chest half-heartedly, glaring at him. “Chris, I’m serious! That was the only time I haven’t felt like I’m being crushed under a boulder all day.” you say, your pout deepening.

“Alright, alright,” he said, his grin softening. “I’ll hold it again later, I promise. But right now, I’m getting you some water and a heating pad.”

You grumbled under your breath but allowed him to guide you back to the couch. As you lowered yourself carefully, you muttered, “Next time, you’re holding it for an hour.”

Chris laughed, tucking a blanket around you. “Next time, I’m hiring someone to do it for me.” he teased — though he wasn’t serious about that. He would hold your stomach again over and over again for you until you were satisfied.

Despite your complaints, you couldn’t help but smile at him. He always had a way of making you feel loved — even if he was a tease about it.

© strnilolover

[hyukascampfire]

OKAYYY FINALLY I GET TO RN THIS. first of all, thank you so much for reading :,) just know that i read this so many times over. this was just the best notif to receive.

MC is also SO me. which means we are TWINSSSSS. i’m around the same age as her, and also just so sad to be letting childhood go. i tried writing that sadness out in MC, and i think the best thing ever is getting multiple messages abt how so many people relate to her. it means we’re all in this together. we’re not alone in our feelings, which is honestly the biggest comfort to me.

COMPLIMENTING MY MUSIC TASTEEE. you are the loml. AND you listened while reading. as intended. i literally could not be happier. i was feeling that playlist while writing🤤

and then you compiled all your favorite quotes here 😭 stop. i am so giddy. those are some of my favorite from the fic as well. especially “you clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge its end.” that one i am so proud of, for how incredibly powerfully it illustrates how i feel about this stage of my life. im glad that the stars aligned and my brain was in the right mood to put that on paper.

and oh my god, if that’s the same erin morgenstern as the night circus, i will absolutely be reading it. ABSOLUTELYYYY.

I LOVE FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. and ALSO dog days. i think our music tastes are lovers. dog days is so so so perfect. thank you so much for reading, kipo. i think you’ve made my whole life with this rb. i’m so deeply in love with the way this story came out. at first, it was just a few bare bones scenes, and it just kept on growing and growing and i really knew i had to see it out. i think it flourished so beautifully:,))

THE BLOCK OF TAGS hell yeah.

ribs playing at the ending and scott street and more than this during the confession oh shuffle had it OUT for you 😭 but i also think those songs at those specific scenes are PERFECT.

and yeah FUCK yeonjun!!! it was tough writing him like that 😕

IM SO PROUD OF THE MOTH SYMBOLISM. i wanted it to feel like, even when kai and MC were lost and confused and apart, they were never really alone, and there were perhaps bigger things at play here. or maybe even the instances of moths appearing were nothing more than coincidence (of course except for at the creek and during the confession). i want to leave it up to the reader to decide that.

OKAY I GOTTA CUT THIS RB OFF because it’s lagging to even type because it’s all so long. i wish i could say more omg i could talk about it forever with you. thank you so much for reading, like really so so so much. T^T

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

��arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms.Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face. Though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[avatar-anna]

Three days had passed and Harry hadn't left your tiny apartment.

He kept saying he should probably leave, and you insisted there were things you had to do, but neither of you actually made it past the threshold of your door. No one said goodbye, or even bothered to shrug back into clothes. For three days, you ate, drank, and slept with Harry.

"You're making it hard to leave," he murmured, his voice low and content as you placed tiny kisses on his neck, his collarbone, his jaw, anywhere you could reach, really. It was how you used to wake Harry up when you were together, and when morning number four rolled around, you couldn't help yourself but lean across the bed and kiss his soft, sun kissed skin.

At first, you kept up the pretense of being unattached, of sleeping with Harry merely because you knew each other well enough physically. "This doesn't mean we're back together," you'd both whisper, or something to that effect, before blurring the lines of your non relationship once more.

"You're not making it any easier to kick you to the curb," you mumbled, one hand reaching up to caress his stubbly cheek. The fine, short hair that seemed to grow in the last few days.

Harry smelled good, like he usually did with a mix of the soap in your shower. It messed with your head in a way that was dangerous, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

So he didn't leave (again), and you didn't tell him to go(again). You and Harry stayed in bed for most of the day, only bothering to get up when hunger was too apparent to ignore. You managed to whip something up from the meager groceries you had, not having gone to the market recently, and sat with Harry at the little dining table by the kitchen. The balcony would've been a much nicer spot, as it looked out over the neighborhood square you stayed in, but it was too public, too many keen eyes would've spotted Harry immediately.

"Part of me wishes I hadn't seen you at all," Harry confessed later in the day. You were back in bed after a brief stint in the kitchen where you tried to make pancakes, which promptly turned into kissing and licking pancake batter off Harry as he did the same to you on the kitchen counter, pancakes no longer a priority.

You knew he hadn't meant it to hurt you, but the words sent a pang through your chest, so different from the heat and fireworks and butterflies you usually got from him. Everything was so different now. It was hard to face how much had changed, especially now that Harry was in bed beside you. "I know."

"It's easier to pretend when I can't see you," he said softly, his hand never once stopping as it tracked through your hair, nor did your hand stop tracing patterns in his chest.

"Pretend?"

Harry blew out a large sigh before sitting up in your bed, his arms stretching high above his head. There were hickeys littered all over his body, one on his hip revealing itself as the bedsheet fell and settled just below his waist. You found yourself transfixed by your ex's body, the one you still loved so much the idea of him leaving made your heart hurt.

"Do you still love me?" Harry asked out of the blue.

The question shocked you, but only because you thought the last three days would've made it obvious. You certainly didn't have to ask him how he felt. "Yes."

"That makes it easier too. In a selfish way, I guess," he said, not once meeting your eye. "Knowing you're in as much pain as I am."

Unexpected tears welled in your eyes. You never wanted to hurt Harry. He'd been right to say it was easier to imagine him happy and healthy post break up if you didn't see or hear from him. It was easier to move on if you convinced yourselves that you were better off without each other.

"Harry—"

"I miss you, Y/n," he said, his voice trembling slightly. Harry wouldn't meet your eye, which made all of this so much worse. "I know why we broke up, and I've done everything short of sleeping with someone else to try and move on, but I just—Tell me you're struggling as much as I am. Tell me you don't sleep as well as you used to because I'm not there. Or don't. Tell me this has all just been sex to you so I know there's an end to this—this—"

"Misery?" you finished for him. "I wish I could. I don't know if I'll ever be the same again, honestly."

"Then why—"

"Don't ask why. Please. Not when you know the answer."

It wasn't like you and Harry woke up one day and stopped loving each other. Everything about your relationship had been nothing short of perfect from the very beginning.

Until it wasn't.

"No one has to know this time," Harry said. His tone had taken on a desperate edge, almost making you turn away from him so you wouldn't have to face it, do this all over again. "We can—We can keep this a secret. It'll be just us."

It will never be just us, you thought miserably. "People already know, H."

At the look of confusion on his face, you reached for your phone. You showed him the slew of articles that had already been written. Pictures of you and Harry walking through Rome together three days ago, each one picking you apart or depicting you as the villain in Harry's life.

"I know that's why you're still here. You're waiting for the storm to blow over," you said, unable to meet his eye.

"That's not—After everything I just said, you really think that's why I stayed?" he asked. You'd turned away from him, but you felt his hand on your shoulder, the kiss to your temple as he leaned in close.

"I wish I was the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought, that I could simply exist in this relationship and not let anyone else in, but—but I'm not. I can't."

"You. Are. Enough," Harry murmured, pressing each word into your skin with a kiss. You closed your eyes, tears leaking from the corners as he curled himself around your body. One leg slid between yours, and you selfishly pulled him closer as he continued to murmur in your ear.

You fell asleep in your ex's arms, the weight of his body on yours more comforting than any blanket. When you woke up, Harry was there, but he wasn't wrapped around you anymore. He sat at the edge of your bed, wearing clothes for the first time since he'd set foot in your apartment.

"You're leaving?" you asked, voice scratchy with sleep.

"I'm supposed to go to Florence tomorrow," Harry said, bent over as he tied his shoes. "I've got a dozen messages on my phone asking where I am."

Something in Harry's voice sounded different, distant, just the way he sounded when you initially ran into him. It pulled at something in your heart, something that you'd been keeping at bay since you invited Harry into your apartment—the knowledge that this would eventually end.

"So you're—You were just going to leave? Without saying anything?"

You heard Harry sigh as he rested his head in his hands. "I thought it would be easier. Our last conversation seemed...final."

"I know, but—"

But what? Harry was right. This wasn't going anywhere. You told him you couldn't be in a relationship with him, and he was responding to that. You knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less now that the moment had finally come.

"You're right," you said eventually, sitting up in your bed. "We came here separately, of course you have plans. I'm sorry if I kept you."

"You didn't," Harry reassured. "There's nowhere I wanted to be the last few days, but we... we're broken up, and as much as I want to stay, I don't want to keep giving myself false hope."

Your fingers twitched, itching to reach out, to touch him, hold him. But he was right. As much as you loved this relationship limbo, that was all it was. Stringing you and Harry along would only hurt you more.

"I'm sorry," was all you could say. For too many things, none of which you could bring up without crying.

"Me too," Harry said.

Harry's lean figure appeared a couple minutes later, his head bent and shoulders slightly hunched, avoiding the few photographers who had been waiting for him to leave the building. You wanted him to turn around. You wanted to see his face one last time, a final farewell. But perhaps for his sake, he didn't, and you watched as he retreated down the street and turned down the road out of sight.

Leaning across the bed, he kissed your forehead, then stood up. "One day you'll realize how extraordinary you are, and you wont care how people perceive you," he said, his thumb caressing your cheek. "And then you'll go and make someone the luckiest man in the world by giving yourself over to him completely. I'm just devastated it wasn't me."

You watched him go from the sanctuary of your bed, knowing the second he was out of sight you'd break down completely. The door closed with a soft clock, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you hurried over to your bedroom window, waiting anxiously to get one last glimpse of him.

On your last day in Rome, you found a note he'd written.

Harry had hidden it in one of the pockets of his favorite of your sweaters, though you weren't exactly sure when. It wasn't very long, and the note itself was no more than a scrap of paper, one you'd nearly thrown out by accident. But you would've recognized his handwriting anywhere, and fond memories of notes you used to find among your things kept you from throwing away the folded paper and opening it instead.

Perhaps in another life. Unless you change your mind in this one, H.

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 3)

The room falls silent, realisation dawns on Y/N, “Jinx?”  She remembers how her girlfriend had told her of her past, her mistakes, how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend.  She didn’t mean to of course but it happened.  Caitlyn can only nod as she watches the tears fall from her eyes.  “I’m sorry Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice fills with sadness as she carefully treads over to her sister who is frozen in her spot, chest heaving as she clutches her shirt.  “A-and dad?” 

“He’s alive and well”  she sends a reassuring smile to her now fragile sister.  With this Y/N collapses to her knees with Caitlyn surging forward to catch her, letting her sob into her shoulder.  Caitlyn holds her close, trying to comfort her, the weight of their shared grief is palpable, and Caitlyn can feel her own emotions welling up in response.

After some time Y/N’s sobs die down to broken whimpers, she pulls back to meet her sister’s eyes, “I’m sorry smalz” she manages through her tears.  Caitlyn hand tenderly cups the younger one’s cheek, wiping away the never-ending steam of tears, “it’s okay, I’m sorry too” her voice soft and assuring.  “I know you’re only just finding out but please…don’t hate Jinx, I have a feeling you know what happened”  Y/N nods, her tears slowing down, “As much as it hurts I can’t hate her, I love her too much”  she buries her head in Caitlyn’s chest.

“You know, I remember the first time she told me about one of her biggest regrets…she told me how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend” she sniffles before continuing, “I kept thinking it must have been painful to carry that weight, I kept reassuring her that we’ve all done things we regret, hurt those who mean the most to us” 

Caitlyn tightens her arms around her little sister, wishing she could take away all her pain.  “I mean hell, do I even deserve to mourn mother after all the things I’ve done?”  Y/N mumbles with a pang in her heart.  “Hey none of that” Caitlyn pulls Y/N’s head from her chest guiding her eyes to her own, “regardless of what you have or haven’t done, she was still your mother” Her tender hands cupping Y/N's face.

The two sit in comfortable silence, the occasional tear escaping but quick to be swept away by the other’s hand.  “Do you think she would hate who I’ve become?” Y/N whispers causing her sister to chuckle.  “No but she would loathe your appearance”  she tries to brighten the mood, eliciting a chuckle form Y/N. “Of course, ‘no scion of the Kiramman name shall be seen in public looking like a vagabond’ “ Y/N mocks drawing out a laugh from both sisters.  “oh how I hated her lectures on appearance” Y/N groans throwing her head back.  “And yet between the two of us you were always dressed elegantly”  Caitlyn teases, “Only to avoid being suffocated in dresses” Y/N shivers in disgust at the thought causing Caitlyn to laugh once more.  “Oh and don’t forget the hair”  Caitlyn chuckles. 

“She would be devastated to see you cut your hair so short”  Caitlyn smiles whilst running her fingers through her sister’s now short yet neat hair.  “I can imagine the lecture I would receive about it, something along the lines of, ‘a Kiramman woman must be elegant and beautiful, not run around looking broody like a man’” the two laugh imagining their mother lecturing them. 

The laughter slowly dies down, “She never forgot about you, even kept your room exactly the same”  Caitlyn spoke in the silence.  Y/N looks down, slowly pulling out a pocket watch with the Kiramman crest, the silver shining brightly against the light.  Y/N stared at it before carefully opening it revealing a family photo when they we much younger, “I never thought I’d be back here, I could always picture the look of sadness on her face, and it broke me time and time again.”  Y/N’s words were raw, her voice hoars as a lump formed in her throat.

She pulls her little sister in for another hug, her presence calming her once more. “You ready to go out there?”  Caitlyn gestures to the door, both women knowing their girlfriends we on the other side and had possibly heard the whole fight.  “Does it make a difference whether I am or not?”  Y/N shakes her head as Caitlyn gets to her feet offering a hand to the younger of the two.  “Now or never” Caitlyn continues, “Yeah, I owe her an explanation”  Y/N looks down sombrely, “She has always been so honest with me about her past, about what she had done…I’m a hypocrite”  Y/N takes the hand offered to her, rising to her feet, now standing almost a head taller than her sister. 

They head to the door together before exiting the room, feeling eyes on her Y/N looks up, Y/E/C meeting pink.  “Hey” Jinx says softly, stepping forward as she picks at her nails.  “Toots I’m so sorry I-“ Jinx is cut off with a chaste kiss. 

“It hurts but it was a long time ago, neither of us knew that it was my mother” Y/N reassures with tear glossed eyes.

Y/N takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of trepidation, glancing at Caitlyn who nods encouragingly.  “Maybe we should sit for this”  She leads them back to the small living room where they had all previously been in, taking residence on the small table whilst Caitlyn and Vi share a chair leaving Jinx to use the other positioned in front of Y/N.

“Do you remember what I told you about my past?”  Y/N asks Jinx, taking her hands in her own, fiddling with her fingers.  “I mean it wasn’t a lot just that you were different from your family and that you didn’t belong” Jinx’s hand reaches up to cup Y/N’s cheek to comfort her the latter leaning into the warmth. 

“Precisely, I am the second born Kiramman daughter, my mother is” Y/N pauses, letting out a sigh, “was council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Caitlyn is my elder sister however…we do not share the same father”  Both Caitlyn and Y/N looks to each other for reassurance.

“Many of the people affiliated with my family begun to look down at my mother, saying she was unfaithful.  It was plain out obvious that I was not human, after all what human child had pointed ears and a tail?”  At this Vi looks up confused, “Tail?”  she tilts her head as the other three chuckle.  “Yes, I have a tail, I prefer to tuck it away” Y/N smiles at Vi who nods in understanding.

“As I was saying, my birth had tarnished my mother and the Kiramman name, it wasn’t her fault but yet she had to live with the consequences” Y/N’s frustration grew but Jinx was there to dissipate it, her touch along grounded her.  “My father he…he forced himself on my mother and as a result I was conceived”  Y/N finishes looking down with tears in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was the legitimate child of the Kiramman blood line whilst I was the half breed baseborn”   Tears slowly escape with Jinx being quick to wipe them away guiding her to look her in the eye.  “It’s okay toots, I’ve got you”  she comforted with a small smile.  “I desperately tried to bring pride to our family name but I was forever the burden, don’t get me wrong my family loved me unconditionally, even Tobius raised me as his own, but it didn’t change the fact that whilst I was present my family would be shunned” 

“Y/N” Caitlyn chokes out, her heart breaks hearing how her sister truly feels, Y/N was always the rock between the two, always eager to support her sister in any way possible, the strong one.  And now, now to hear that her little sister was breaking truly hurt her. 

Y/N looks over to Caitlyn, their eyes meeting, “The only way to save the family was for me to disappear, make everyone believe I was truly gone.  And so I did…I faked my death and fled the city, swore I’d never come back” The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace.  Caitlyn’s face was etched with pain and regret, her eyes welling up with tears.  Vi’s expression is a mix of shock and compassion, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face.

Jinx slowly pulls her lover into her arms, Y/N quick to nuzzle into her neck trying her best not to completely break down. 

Other Parts

[fatuismooches]

My personal headcanon is that Dottores main lab in sneznyaha is underneath his mansion (that the fandom all collectively agrees each harbinger was given lol) so walking into his mansion it’s completely deserted. No lights, no decor, not much furniture, just …empty. Further into the mansion there would be a secret hidden entrance that leads down into the massive laboratory that is buzzing with activity.

After waking up fragile reader probably wouldn’t even know there’s a whole mansion above them because dottore is very protective and he hasn’t installed security up there. Maybe once they learn about that a segment will take them up to see it . I imagine reader would like the mansion portion of their lovers property. They can sit by the windows and watch the snowfall without being scolded for being in weather too harsh for them. Dottore doesn’t like them up there alone because of the lack of security.

Maybe once they’re feeling better they can make use of the grand and untouched kitchen and whip up their lovers some treats because we all agree he has a sweet tooth <3

Dottore had never needed or cared for a fancy way of life. His lab was suited for his desires (always engrossed in his research) and was equipped to handle all of his needs (and yours too, of course, he had made sure of every little detail before you woke up.) The only reason he remembers the existence of the upper floors is because he and the segments obviously need to exit from there. Honestly, he could do without it... new agents sometimes get lost trying to find the entrance to the lab. (The mansion was given to him with expensive furniture too, but over time the segments eventually started selling it for a bit of extra funds. No one questions the bareness.)

You never really questioned the layout of the lab because well. Dottore + lab just makes sense. You don't find out about the whole mansion aspect until you hear a poor agent talking about how dusty it is up there. Of course, your interest is immediately piqued while you're also impressed the entrance upstairs is so well hidden despite your thorough analysis of the lab... hmph.

Dottore, on the other hand, is a bit annoyed at the babbling of his agents, but he knew that this would happen eventually. He just wished it was at... a later date. Preferably farther into the future. Preferably when he had an actual chair up there and the copious amount of dust wouldn't make you flare up. That was just preferable of course. Now with your pleading eyes and constant clinging to his arm quick measures were to be taken.

He still doesn't quite understand why you'd want to be up there when the lab has everything and more, but it makes you content... so it's fine. Something that Dottore had learned was that he doesn't need to analyze and pick apart every part of your brain all the time but rather just go along with what makes you comfortable. (Which could be a challenge sometimes, considering the kind of man he was.)

If the mansion had a balcony there would be many cute dates there... a good way of being outside while being able to quickly warm up! You two would watch the view together and some birds would visit you!

(I always imagine Reader shares the big lab kitchen with the Fatui agents, and although Dottore makes them clear out while you use it, sometimes they pop in accidentally and just. Watch you make sweets for *the* Il Dottore. With a cute lil 'remember to take breaks!!' note to the side. Real crazy stuff goes on in his lab... So yes, you would definitely appreciate that kitchen. Dottore watches from the side because you banned him since he kept stealing bites before the sweet was even finished.)

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites Part 10

Check out part 1 here.

CW: None.

Climbing in the back seat with Cara you wink at Kyle from the backseat.

“Loverboy.”

He replies with a dry, “Bunny.”

The glare you send him should set his hair on fire. Unfortunately, your magical girl powers had yet to manifest.

Gaz eyes Cara before adjusting his gaze to driving.

You turn to continue talking to Cara as if Gaz isn’t there. Watching him on the sly you see what piques his interest. Knowing what snags a man’s interest had been a skill you had cultivated since you had moved in with your father and on the daily had to try and learn what you could do to keep yourself safe.

Cara caught you with a particularly funny joke and you’re snorting laugh cuts through the cab of the car. It’s not a demure laugh and never the one you use in front of clients. Before Gaz could comment Cara jumped in.

“Ooh judgey driver you got.” Turning from you to place a hand on the back of his seat Cara ran one long red nail down the back of his shoulder, “Aren’t drivers paid for their discretion?”

“Aren’t former dancers meant to know how to read a room?” Gaz doesn’t look from the road as he tosses back his comment.

Leaning back Cara lets out a hum and folds her arms across her chest. Glancing at you she gives you a wink. You’re sure Gaz saw when he snorted from the front seat.

“I would say he’s an Aquarius, his favorite accessory is a good watch, and he’s a closeted bisexual.”

“How the fuck did you do that!?” Gaz turned to glare at you both once the car rocked to a stop at a light. “What did you tell her?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. One thing you get good at as a woman who works almost exclusively with men who can and will hurt you is reading them. The micro-expressions tell you the truth since a man’s lips never will.”

Gaz and Cara are staring at each other, both trying to prove a point with their eyes. You glance through the front window and point.

“Light’s green.”

Swearing Gaz turns and focuses on driving again. The color is leeching from his knuckles as he settles into a parking spot under a nondescript building. Stepping from the driver’s seat Gaz opens the back door where Cara is sitting. He leans into her space, the angles of his face sharp and angry with the overhead lighting.

“How do you know? How did both of you decide so much about me?”

“The tenseness in your shoulders and the way your eyes watch a microsecond too long at men you find attractive. Your taste in men is super different than your taste in women. I wonder is that normal,” She turns to you. “Is your taste in men the same as your taste in women?”

“Oh absolutely not, my taste in women is far superior to my taste in men.”

“Mmm, I wish I liked women. That one time in college was nice but I kept wishing for the heady scent of semen,” Cara sighed, stretching her legs between Gaz’s in a move to force him to get entirely too close or to back up.

He chooses correctly. Cara in her heels stands eye to eye with Gaz. You miss most of their facial communication as you escape the back seat from your side. They are still face to face when you round the boot of the car.

Lifting one well-manicured brow Cara looked from eye to eye, the subtle challenge of two kinds of power meeting. You let it go for three, four, five seconds even.

“Alright quit the dick measuring, I have to go and try on a million and one outfits and would like to get this over with.”

Cara smirks as Gaz turns to glare at you. Snapping his head back to stare at Cara, even knowing he lost the interaction, he looks ready to snarl at her.

“She’s right loverboy, we have an appointment to make,” Cara coos at him.

Stepping from between him and the car Cara links elbows with you as you both meander to the elevator. Gaz is reaching a particular point of done. You can see it in his posture. Leaning your head onto Cara’s shoulder you speak before Gaz can reach the elevator.

“Go easy on him, I think he’ll need a snack before we head home.”

The bump of Cara’s chin is all the acknowledgment she gives before Gaz joins you in the elevator.

The experience of dress shopping isn’t so different than any other time you have been. The addition of a dedicated assistant with a list from Price is new though. You needed a full wardrobe, including a golf outfit, two pantsuits, a full new set of chic underwear and bra combos (though you fight the assistant about anything with lace, it makes you want to peel your skin off and you will not budge on this point), and at least eight semi-formal dresses and three formal dresses.

Cara helps you in and out of clothes, confirming when a dress or an outfit is a good enough fit or color to step in front of the tri-fold mirror snapping a picture or two of you and Cara. Gaz grows increasingly done in the background of each photo you send to Price. Might as well confirm he is getting his money’s worth.

When the third hour ticks into the fourth everyone is done. Gaz has spent the last twenty minutes arms folded and ankles crossed as he stares at the toe of his boot. Your body is starting to ache from the constant shifting and moving. Keeping your game face on for so long has drained your emotional batteries and it’s dinner time. Cara gets snappy when her blood sugar gets too low.

When the assistant finally confirms you have picked enough of everything John requested you gratefully put on your own clothes again. Flopping down onto the couch next to Gaz you let out a sigh of relief. Cara had popped over to the bathroom as soon as she heard the news that the appointment had been completed.

“Wanna grab a burger after we leave here?”

“No.”

The terse reply is not unexpected, but annoying all the same.

“I’ll buy.”

The only response is a shifting of his eyes to catch you out of one side of his vision.

“Come on Gaz. Price said you guys would be playing bodyguard for me so we both need to get comfortable being together for long periods of time.”

A sigh drops his shoulders.

“I’m normally better on jobs than this,” he admits quietly.

“Normally you don’t have to deal with two women particularly skilled at worming our way under the defenses of men in our vicinity.” You shrug by way of apology. “We don’t always use our powers for good.”

“Powers,” he guffawed, “Makes you sound like some kind of supervillain.”

You’ve got him now. A saccharine smile splits your face.

“I sure do have the dramatic backstory to pull off being a villain,” you waggle your eyebrows at him.

Gaz gives a hint of a smile and shakes his head as he looks back to his feet.

“I won’t say anything by the way.”

This draws his face fully to you, beautiful eyes confused but concerned.

“That you’re bi. I collect secrets to keep me safe, not to hurt other people.”

Cara appears across the store, finished with her bathroom trip.

“Well I guess we’ll see if you keep to that edict then,” Gaz stands and offers you a hand. If you take it as a peace offering instead of an offer of assistance that’s between you and your thoughts.

Driving back home is much more lively. Gaz is drawn into the conversation instead of purposefully being left out. You can see Cara is interested in him. First off he’s gorgeous and she did always have a thing for pretty men. Secondly, he didn’t seem put off by her former work at all, which was a rare thing. The Madonna/Whore complex lived out in so many men when they learned about what you did for work.

Choosing a fast food restaurant to swing through had nearly turned into swings being thrown when you refused to eat at certain places that either didn’t treat their employees right or funded atrocious acts somewhere in the world. Eventually, Cara found a small, family-owned business that served burgers and Gaz worked his way there. So much for the goodwill you had worked on building today.

Laughter picks back up between Cara and Gaz as you snarf down your food, headless of the mess you were making on your face. Slipping into the quiet of listening you are looking forward to resting in your bed as Gaz points the car toward your home. You give your quiet thanks as you step from the car.

Leaning out of the window Gaz gave his parting words.

“Price will be in touch, he has a few more appointments he needs to put you through before your first party.”

“Appointments like what?” You ask cautiously.

“Pampering ones, you will need to look as cared for as any of the ladies at the parties you will be attending.”

Nodding you accept the wisdom in that.

“Will I have an escort for that too?”

“Most likely, you’ll be going to the same salons as most of the ladies you will run into at the events.”

Puffing your cheeks you force the air back and forth as you think.

“I’ll take Ghost or Price but not my brother.”

Gaz lifts a brow, “Not sure that’s your choice.”

“Pretty sure you want Johnny to come home alive right?”

The narrowing of his eyes tells you Gaz doesn’t think you could take your brother in a fight. He might be right but you would inflict some damage before he subdued you.

“Tell Price what I said, and have him call me when he sets the next appointment up,” you offer a two-finger salute, blow a kiss to Cara who has moved to her car, and head up the steps to your flat.

God, you needed a nap.

Bunny Masterlist | Masterlist

@leahnicole1219 @notsochillnerd @darling006

[lieslab]

Broken hearts club

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Bang Chan X gn reader

Summary: Unexpectedly, you find yourself face-to-face with the leader of a gang, but you'd never imagine how your relationship would end.

Genre: Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 3.8K

Trigger warning: Mentions of homelessness and insecurities/struggles surrounding it, fear of love, gun violence, casual crime, and murder.

A/N: I'm going to tell you now that if you struggle with feeling unlovable, you might want to skip this one. I have big feelings and this was like an hour long vent write for me. Please remember that it's fiction and this Chan does not exist (thank fuck)

_ _ _

It was like the home you never had. Two years ago, Bang Chan found you filthy and half-dazed in an alleyway. You were just trying to survive on the streets. Life isn’t kind to the homeless. When your dignity is stripped as you dive into dumpsters for food, you start to feel less like a human and more like a testing specimen. 

The world kept spinning, families enjoyed their time indoors, but not you. You were left out in the cold like an abandoned dog. Without a house, without a home, without a family, and without love. The world conspired against you, it always had, and you were certain it’d be this way until the end of time. 

Your clothes hadn’t been washed in days. You were one quarter short from being able to wash your clothes at the laundromat. You had enough to dry them, but washing them cost a whole quarter more; just another cruel way that the world laughed at you. The stench that radiated off you was a mixture between sour milk and sweaty socks. 

You used to have an extra pair of socks to warm your hands. They were stolen by another homeless person when your back was turned. You thought the two of you were friends, but you forgot that when people are where you are, it’s survival of the fittest. Not everyone is genuine when you hit rock bottom. Humans will do what they can to survive. 

You pulled the socks from your feet and used them to warm your hands. They hadn’t been washed and they were soaked in your old sweat and skin cells, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When you kicked off your shoes for a moment of rest, the scent of decay filled the air. 

On that night, your body was burning up at the slightest touch. The Texas heat had nothing compared to what your body was going through. The weather was chillier, your cheeks were red from bitter winds, your nose was frozen to the touch, but your body was on fire. 

A fever engulfed you and there was nothing you could do besides ride it out. Pharmacies didn’t care if you were homeless. Corporate greed had no compassion for the starving and the crippled. If you couldn’t afford to wash your clothes, you certainly couldn’t afford a bottle of cheap over-the-counter medicine. 

You didn’t mean to stumble into Chan that night. You were certain you were going to die. Actually, you craved the sweet release of death. Without deodorant, you could smell yourself. Your hair had been saturated with grease for two days. 

Every part of you felt filthy and worn. You felt disgusting and awful. You knew you needed to shower, but you were so delirious, you couldn’t even distinguish left from right. The gym was on the opposite side of town, your head was heavy, and your legs were on fire. Trying to make it would be a certain death wish. So, you stumbled forward instead. 

Chan was supposed to be keeping an eye out for some guy he had been watching. His gang was well-known around town. They ran the streets and were on top of everything. Cops stayed silent about their crimes. Chan’s group was a bunch of vigilantes, they played both sides. 

As long as the cops could run traffic stops and do the most of their jobs without concern, Chan and his heathens were let off the hook. All it took was one call and they’d be off into the dead of night again; disappearing into the sound of faint sirens, barking dogs, and the orange warmth beneath streetlights. 

You didn’t have a choice when you stumbled into Chan. It was merely an accident, but his reflexes were fast. His gun swung and before you knew it, you were pistol whipped. The cold metal felt glorious for a moment and then you free fell. Unforgiving concrete, blurred vision, and the incriminating stare of a stranger above. God’s abandonment tasted like salted sweat and iron. 

Blood oozed from the gash in your forehead. Chan didn’t have time to ask your name or gather any identifying details. Your eyes rolled back into your head and that was that. Sounds stopped, the earth kept spinning, and your soul was silenced. 

You expected the devil to greet you when you woke up, instead you were met by a man wearing a pleather jacket. Black eyeliner rimmed beneath his eyes and an eyebrow piercing sat above his left eyebrow. A stern gaze, messy black hair, and a death sentence. 

You were sure this was the grim reaper. He looked like heaven and hell combined. Along his cheek, a scar had healed, but the spot where stitches stretched skin together hadn’t. If you narrowed your eyes, you could still make out the exact spot where each stitch stretched honey-soaked skin together. 

Your fear tapered out the moment he handed a water bottle in your direction. The plastic sides dripped with condensation. It cooled your overheating body the moment you took it. Maybe this wasn’t your enemy, but your long-lost savior instead. 

He was too serious. Too serious all the time and you hated him for it. You grew to love him and his seven other goons. He was good at what he did. Always directing, always pushing and pulling, always carrying the gang. Dealing with enemy antics while fighting the stupidity and occasional incognitiveness forged in his own group. 

They weren’t perfect, they had their issues, but they had Chan. They had a leader and a fighter. A whirlwind of chaos, power, and strict determination. They had a lot of things as a group, but they didn’t have you. You fit right in once your fever broke. 

Your quick banter, sarcasm, and wit gave them a reality check. Even the best witted ones were out-smarted by you. After a shower, some new clothes, and a full meal, you felt like a person again. Chan and his crew became your family, but families don’t always stay together. 

~ ~ 

“What the hell is this?” A manila folder flung your way. It landed on the table in front of you with a harsh thud. You had been studying the layout of a mansion for the next mission when you felt the first fissure. 

Chan’s words pulled you from your planning and you glanced up at him. “What is this?” You pushed open the folder to find a thick stack of papers. 

“That’s what I want you to tell me.” 

You didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice. Laced with venom, he was a copperhead waiting to strike. Every hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t place it just yet. 

Paper after paper you flipped through. Photocopies of text messages, emails from your email address, and photos of security camera footage of you with different people. They weren't just anyone, they were rival gang members. Rival gang members were strictly off limits. Any act of breaching Chan’s gang’s trust was an act of treason. If you wanted to sign your own death sentence, it was the perfect way to go. 

“I’m only going to ask you one more time.” His arms folded across his chest. “What the hell are these?” 

“Photocopies and security camera footage.” 

His nostrils flared and his eyes rolled. He stepped forward and tipped over you. The scent of some unknown spicy cologne with hints of vanilla and amber hit you. His hand smacked the wooden table, beneath it was a photo of you in a hoodie. A rival member stood across the way staring at you. He was identified by the obvious dark tattoo on his forearm. 

“You know there’s a rat.” 

Of course, you did. Someone had been leaking plans to someone. Information oozed out and missions were compromised. Compromised missions meant distrust and disorganization. How easy it was for a gang to slip up and have a member go missing, get injured, or be killed. 

It hurt like hell, his words, the way he said them with no mercy. That fever of yours was two years ago. Two years of learning his ways and what made him tick. The way he touched his ear when nervous. The constant bouncing of his leg as he spoke about new missions; the proof that he was eager to get started. You swore you knew everything about him, but he couldn’t say the same about you. 

He hesitated bringing you in. His gang was perfect, but he remembered how cruel the world could be. He saw the defeat in your eyes. The way you strolled along the side of abandoned factories and drug yourself along, trying to get just another step. He pitied you back then and clearly, it was all just a stupid mistake. 

“I know what this looks like, but I swear to God, this isn’t what it seems. This-” You picked up a photo of you and a different rival gang member. “This isn’t me. I mean, it is, but it’s not. You really think I’d rat you out?” 

“Well, it’s someone!” He snapped angrily. “It’s someone and look at this shit!” His arms waved in distress. “It’s clearly you!” 

“They have to be fake. I’d know if I was a rat. Listen,” you pushed yourself from the stool you sat upon, “I’ll prove it. These emails and texts, they can be disproven. Stay here and I’ll be right back.” 

You rushed out of the room before he could stop you. You had holed yourself in the small study. You always did that when you were studying for a mission. It was quiet and you liked to sink into that oversized leather chair beneath the books. 

The scent of weathered paper and worn leather. You sat there so much, the leather creased from where it had been worn. The secrets of the shelves watched over you. The lamp on the window beside you had been thrifted before you were a member. Despite that, you were the one who always used it the most. 

You came back with your laptop and your phone. You placed them on the oak desk and unlocked them. Your hands gestured to the objects. “Go ahead and look at them, you won’t find anything.” 

He stared at you, but you were adamant. “Come on,” you waved him closer. “Go ahead and look.” 

With a sigh, he dropped himself on the stool you had been sitting on. Blueprints were meticulous and you liked to keep your stuff straight. When you weren’t in that leather chair, you were on this stool studying things out and trying to make puzzle pieces fit together. 

Tension kept brewing and your stomach churned. You weren’t the rat, you knew that, but Chan didn’t. You’d never have it in you to turn your back on this group. This was the family you never had. The love you always craved, it had been found here. Within the past two years, you felt enough love to last a lifetime. 

You flipped through the papers. The text messages were fake and someone was good at impersonating you. From the text messages to the emojis, it was all spot on. The more you dove into the photos, the more you doubted yourself. There weren't any mistakes anywhere. Even the photos of you with rival members were photoshopped together seamlessly. Whoever did this, they were good. Better than good, they were damn great. 

The sound of your laptop shutting pulled your head up. Your eyes met Chan’s with desperation, but his dark eyes gave away nothing. He still looked the way he did two years ago, so broadening and mysterious. 

The only difference? You now knew the man behind the persona. You knew how he loved without him saying it. It was the way he passed food to you first and let you eat before him. It was hidden in the reminders he gave the members to buckle their seatbelts. It was found in the way he reassuringly checked for fevers, when members were sick, by gently using the back of his hand; the same exact way he checked yours two years ago. 

“Did you forget that text messages and emails can easily be erased?” 

“But why would I rat you out? The group? Why would I go against everything I love?” 

He scoffed and shook his head. You stepped closer to him. “Please, you have to believe me! Chan, I don’t even know these people!” 

“How did they get your email?” 

“I-I-” You stuttered trying to find the words. “I don’t know!” 

“Because you’re the rat. You gave out your email and yo-” 

“Stop saying that! I know how bad this looks, okay? I understand it!” You desperately flipped through the papers trying to find one small mistake to prove your innocence. “You have to believe that this isn’t me. Please, Chan, please.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Because you trust me.” 

“I used to trust you.”

It was so much worse than the betrayal of the homeless lady you befriended. You asked her to watch your stuff and she took off with your socks. You had been working up a friendship for two weeks and you disappeared into a store to use the restroom. When you came back she was gone. 

You only knew her for two weeks, but how different two weeks was from two years. Two years of building up your own grit and determination. Building up a foundation of a body, fighting for the muscle you lost when starving on the streets, gaining back your dignity when the world ripped it away. 

“Don’t say that,” your voice cracked. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears. “You do, you trust me. You trust me because I’m one of your members.” 

His gaze went back to the papers strewn along the desk behind you. He’d never show you how he truly felt. Deep down, he was devastated. He wanted to scream and grip you. He wanted to tug you into his grasp. He wanted to show you the love and admiration that he had neglected giving you these past two years, but instead he stood still, the evidence was too damning. 

“Prove to me you’re innocent,” he finally uttered. His heart fluttered with hope. A silent prayer was recounted from years ago. The memories of pews and biblical artifacts were dusty, but it was there. A basic prayer from Sunday School, one that was easy enough to remember, a five year old could quote it. 

“I don’t know how. I-I showed you my electronics, those are the only ones I own. I don’t know what more you could possibly want from me. You can search my room. You can do anything, just please, please, please believe me.” 

You didn’t want to admit it, but this was no longer a matter of Chan’s integrity and the gang’s security. This was a matter of life and death. You were no longer fighting for your innocence, you were fighting sudden death. 

He made the rules so crystal clear two years ago. A major fuck up and you were gone. Something so quick and easy, a bullet to the forehead. Brains pulverized, neurons ripped apart, the soul slipped away so easily. A single gunshot stood between traitors; a one way ticket from this life into the next. 

“Prove it,” he tried again. He wanted you to beg. To get down on your knees and weep. To repent for your sins and admit it all. He would find a way to forgive you, no matter how much the truth hurt, but you didn’t. 

You couldn’t. How could you? How could you possibly explain that none of this was real? The screenshots, the security footage, someone clearly wanted you gone. You didn’t understand why Chan believed it so easily, maybe he was the one who wanted you gone. Why wasn’t he fighting for you?

“Chan?” You finally whispered. The reality of your situation was settling in. He never responded, but you spoke anyway. “Can you just…can you tell the guys that I love them?” 

Betrayal clamped down. It was a confession in his eyes. The sting of a bee, the teeth of a cobra, a shot of gin mixed with rejection. After everything you had been through with the gang, he didn’t expect it to feel like this. 

Those eyes used to hold warmth now and then. In the sunlight, they lit up like pools of chocolate. You saw those eyes at bonfires during the summer. It was the oozing chocolate between roasted marshmallows and graham crackers. You saw them in the dirt smeared along your jeans after you ducked, dived, and dodged your way through each dangerous mission. 

It was a rarity, but it was special, your own personal Halley’s Comet. It was replaced with resentment and bitterness now. An anger had been uncapped and no matter what you professed and claimed, it couldn’t stop it. 

“That’s all you have to say after everything we’ve been through?” His hand reached back behind his back. You knew what was coming. “You wanna die? I’ll fucking kill you myself!” 

That black pistol was always loaded. His reflexes had been quick since you knew him. It was the same pistol that knocked you out two years back. You never had a chance to dive then and you never had a chance now. 

“Fuck you and fuck your love! You’re nothing, but a liar and a goddamn traitor and yet, you want me to lie to them? To tell them you loved them after you put them in danger? You put us all in danger!” 

“I-” You couldn’t get the words out. They lodged in your throat and you didn’t know how to force them out. You didn’t want it to end up like this.

“Fuck you, your love, and everything about you! Die knowing that no one will ever fucking love you and you’re dead to me.” 

Bang! 

The memories of the past two years flashed before your eyes. The fear building up in your gut on each harrowing mission you went on. The board games you played around the dining room table. They used to end with someone getting mad and throwing the board. You all collapsed in a heap of laughter at the pettiest members. It changed every time. 

You used to find comfort within Chan. Every time you struggled, you’d find him and explain your problems. He wouldn’t offer hugs or sympathy, but he leant a listening ear. He wouldn’t pity you, he’d just listen. Sometimes you never wanted advice, you just wanted proof that you weren’t alone, a gentle and familiar reminder that you were loved. 

Your body fell through the air and your brain stopped, but not in the way you wanted it to. Chan’s back turned to you, you didn’t realize it, you couldn’t. Not when you were like this. 

The carpet was as hard and unforgiving as the pavement was two years ago. Warmth soaked your chest and you could still see. You tried to breathe, but there was no air left to take. In his fit of anger, Chan didn’t shoot you in the head, but he hit your heart instead. 

The bullet lined directly with the center of your heart and his bullets never missed their target. One more cruel reminder from the world that you were unlovable. People didn’t throw pity when you were surviving on the street, instead, it was accusing glares, as if you were nothing, but a pesky vermin. 

It was your biggest insecurity, feeling unloved. How could you after everything that happened in your life? No family and no friends. The only family you had was this gang and now it was all unraveling and slipping through your fingers. It was falling apart and it left you bleeding on the floor. 

A gasp mixed with a squeak. Chan’s eyes squeezed shut. His fingers were still wrapped around the gun. He didn’t dare turn around to face you and admit what he did. He couldn’t. Deep down, he loved you. You flickered a spark that he thought died out years ago.

He was never one for being a coward, but something changed. You startled him and woke up something that was supposed to lay dead. The feelings for you weren’t supposed to wither and squirm this much. Rat or not, maybe it was just easier to accuse you of something and kill you before a flicker grew into a roaring flame. 

Letting you in was a mistake. Building up a friendship, striking up feelings of something more, it was a pile of kindle that was always meant to burn. He’d always be a monster and you were just a person. Too innocent, too vulnerable, too sweet for someone with his past. 

Your vision clouded as a tear slipped down your cheek. The person you loved most put you here, but you still couldn’t hate him. In fact, maybe you were grateful deep down. You were a bird with a broken wing and never meant to fly. It was better that an animal got to you rather than wither and rot away in the elements. 

The door to the study burst opened. One of the guys rushed inside. You heard him speak, but you couldn’t distinguish who it was. Blood was seeping out so quick and you were growing weaker. 

“What the hell did you do?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Someone help them!” 

Footsteps rushed towards you. Warm hands touched your chest, but it was too late. Your limbs were weak. They never got to see the last bits of light fade from your eyes. They fluttered shut just before the door burst open. 

“Wake up! Just wake up! Please” 

“Call the doctor!” 

“What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?” 

Someone sobbed. Salted tears mixed with the blood on your shirt. Desperate fingers pushed down to stop the bleeding, but it’d never be enough. Love surrounded you, but you didn’t get to see it for the last time, before your heart stopped. 

Across the way, Chan’s bottom lip quivered. He dropped the gun and it landed with a clatter. Despite the sob that fell from the leader’s chest, they couldn’t find it within themselves to approach him. He collapsed in defeat and curled his hands around his head. The one person he truly loved and cherished, he took them out himself. Your blood on his hands would never be washed away. He thought it’d be easy to take you out, but now, his members would never look at him the same way. 

Eight hearts around the room beating and the final one still bleeding.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[mxltifxnd0m]

your skin on my skin ⇝ i. lahey

summary: seeing isaac between your thighs only happened in your dreams, it could never become a reality... right?

AU: where isaac came back from france and stayed for the rest of the series and everyone is going to the same college

pairings: isaac lahey x reader, isaac lahey x fem! reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', smut, oral fem!receiving, fingering, fluff, reader and isaac being lovesick idiots, implied p in v, characters are aged up to 18+ and in college, title is a lyric from fragile by laufey, kinda edited

a/n: RAHH i haven't written for isaac since july, so apologies if hes a little ooc but i miss him dearly so here's my first smut for him!! again minors please DNI please and thank you <3

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You made eye contact with Isaac’s cerulean eyes as his breath ghosted your bare stomach, making goosebumps rise against your heated skin as he sunk in between your open legs. You let out a shaky breath as you tipped your head back into the plush pillows, breaking the intense gaze between you and Isaac. 

You don’t know how you got to this position. Well, you do, but you never thought in a million years that this would be happening. Having Isaac in between your thighs only happened in your dreams and imagination when you had the apartment to yourself and wanted to work off some steam in your room, your vibrator on the highest setting as it worked over your sensitive and swollen clit. 

You had the biggest crush on Isaac since you met the scrawny kid in freshman year back at Beacon, since before you were pulled into the supernatural mess with Scott and eventually Isaac himself. But you hid it well. At least, you thought you did until Lydia cornered you one day and confronted you about your crush on him. 

You shrugged it off, of course, denying that you had liked him at all and that he was only your best friend, but Lydia was smarter than that, having caught you looking at him longingly as he stared at Allison. 

When Allison and Isaac got together, it hurt a lot. The pain of having the guy you liked start dating one of your best friends was one you wouldn’t wish on anyone. But you played it off and only teased Allison about the irony of being a hunter and being into werewolves. She laughed it off, but Lydia could see the pain in your eyes every time Isaac mentioned her or you saw the two of them close to one another. 

So when Allison died, you felt conflicted. Half of you was devastated that one of your best friends was gone, forever. But the other half was relieved that she was. You felt so guilty that you felt that way about Allison but kept it to yourself, internalizing it and locking away the information for life. 

You knew the toll that Allison’s death took on Isaac, but you guys still had the nogitsune to deal with. Once that was taken care of and you tried to talk to him about what happened with everything that had happened in the past year, he was gone. He fled to France with Allison’s dad. The pack didn’t know if he was going to come back, so you decided to swallow the devastation that flooded your veins at the thought of your best friend not coming back and moving on. 

But as the new year started and moving into your second semester of junior year, your eyes met a familiar pair of cerulean ones in the crowded hallways of Beacon Hills High. You felt your heart race at the fact that Isaac came back. 

From then on, you never really moved on from him. You tried, but he was always stuck in the back of your mind. Even throughout the craziness of the following year and a half of high school, the two of you stuck by each other and with the pack. 

After high school, you and some of the pack members went to the nearest college and decided to live in the same apartment complex. Stiles, Scott, and Isaac lucked out and got a bigger unit than you and Lydia did, but it didn’t matter since they usually came over to your place since it was “cozier.” You scoffed at them because they didn’t bother to furnish their apartment as well as you and Lydia did. 

“Hey.” Isaac called out your name softly, making you snap out of your reverie and look back down at him. His warm hands were settled on your thighs as his chin rested on your stomach and his gaze intently staring at you. 

Isaac’s were slightly swollen and pinker than usual from the heated make-out session that had started out of nowhere; well, it didn’t start out of nowhere. 

It was a Saturday night, and you didn’t feel like going out with the rest of the pack, so you decided to stay in and relax. You had expected Isaac to go with them, but to your surprise, he stayed with you. 

It was slightly awkward at first. The two of you hadn’t hung out for a while without the rest of the pack hovering around you since he came back from France. It’s not like you actively avoided spending one-on-one time, but you guys drifted apart when he came back, and the active threats to Beacon Hills didn’t help with the space between the two of you. 

You tried not to show that you were nervous around him, knowing he could hear if your heartbeat was erratic or not. You had planned to watch a movie in your room, so you invited him and joked that it would be like when we used to before he became a werewolf and hid in your room for a couple of hours before he had to go back to his place. 

The smile Isaac gave you at your invite had destroyed the plan of masking your fondness for him, feeling your heartbeat slightly faster at the sight of it. 

You sat next to Isaac when you finished setting up the movie, the two of you resting against your headboard, shoulders brushing against each other as the two of you settled in your queen-sized bed. 

You kept your eyes trained on the TV, the opening sequence of Iron Man flicking through the LCD screen. But Isaac couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in your features being illuminated by the dim lighting of the fairy lights you hung around your room. He smiled, remembering your dislike for overhead lighting and preference for mood lighting. 

You took a chance, glancing at Isaac and finding that his gaze was already on you. You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes. 

“What?” You murmured. 

Isaac raised his hand hesitantly, brushing a wayward hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear before resting his palm against your cheek. You almost shivered at the soft caress of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. 

“Nothing.” Isaac said with a half smile on his face, slowly inching his face closer to you. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to be unphased by his touch. “Really? Because you’re not watching the movie.” 

“You know I don’t care for Marvel.” Isaac smirked. 

“Then why do you sit through the movies with me?” 

“Because you like them.” Isaac stated as if it was obvious while shrugging. 

You looked at him dumbly, your mouth slightly agape. Isaac chuckled lowly before he moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck and rested his forehead against yours. 

Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily as you felt his breath fan against your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Isaac whispered. 

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you placed your lips against his, drawing him into a soft kiss. It was a short and sweet kiss, but it contrasted how your body filled with heat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours. 

Both of you pulled away, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before your lips collided once more. The kiss was filled with passion and all of the unsaid emotions that you guys had yet to admit to one another. 

Your body had a mind of its own as your lips moved against Isaac’s. You moved to straddle his lap as your hands dived into his blonde curls while his hands made their way to your hips, guiding you to his lap. The warmth of his hands seeped through the fabric of the sweatpants you were wearing. 

You felt Isaac’s tongue swipe at the seam of your lips, a silent request that you accepted. You moaned softly at the feeling of Isaac’s tongue softly intertwining against yours. You unconsciously ground your heated core against the growing bulge in his jeans. Isaac let out a low hiss, making the two of you pull apart from one another, a string of spit connecting the two of you before it broke. 

You couldn’t help but the giddy smile that broke out on your face, your stomach flipping at the sight of Isaac’s wide grin as his hands moved from your hips to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. 

He tugged on it slightly, the unsaid question written in Isaac’s eyes. You nodded, and he slowly pulled it off of you, exposing your bare chest to him. You saw his gaze widen slightly, and you let out a small giggle at his reaction. 

Isaac smiled wider at the sound of your small laugh, his heart swelling with love, and he laughed a bit when he felt you tug at his own shirt. He leaned up from the headboard and shed his own shirt, your palms settling against his chest once the offending item of clothing was flung across the room. 

Isaac had a sly smile on his face, and before you could question him, you let out a small yelp as he used his werewolf strength and agility to put you on your back. He hovered over you before he drew you into a kiss that left you breathless. But it only lasted for a moment before Isaac trailed his lips down your jaw. He nipped and kissed at the skin of your neck before moving down your collarbone and towards your breasts. 

Isaac left teasing kisses in the valley of your chest as his hands moved from your sides and to the waistband of your sweatpants. 

He looked up at you, his breath fanning over the slightly wet skin of your chest. “Can I take these off baby?” 

You felt yourself melt at the softness of his tone and the pet name. “Yeah.” You gave him a gentle smile. 

Instead of responding, Isaac left a tender kiss next to where your heart was and slowly pulled down your sweatpants. As every new inch of you was exposed, Isaac kissed the skin as if it was fragile. You couldn’t help but the lump that grew in your throat at how tender Isaac was being. 

Isaac called your name again. He was looking down at you, chin no longer resting on your stomach. Isaac was hovering over you again, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You alright? We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.” 

“M’fine.” 

“You sure?” 

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip. “Just-” You inhaled sharply. “I don’t know if this is going to be a one time thing.” 

Isaac shook his head. “Trust me, it isn’t for me. Is it for you?” He asked, nerves coloring his tone. 

“No!” You almost shouted before you cringed at your volume and cleared your throat. “No, I’ve been embarrassingly in love with you for a long time.” You admitted sheepishly. 

The grin that was on Isaac’s face was blinding. He kissed you hard before pulling back. “Thank god.” He breathed out, relieved. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time. Ever since I came back to Beacon.” 

You didn’t have any words to respond with, so you put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him, pouring all of the love and adoration you had for him over the years into it. Isaac couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before he deepened the kiss and blanketed your body with his, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt. 

You moaned at the feeling of his denim-clad bulge brushing against your heated cunt, your underwear almost soaked through as the two of you made out. Isaac broke the kiss and eventually made his way back in between your legs, his heated stare directed at the wet patch in your panties. 

He threw your legs over your shoulder as his face drew closer to your cunt, leaving feather-light kisses on your inner thighs. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing in anticipation. Isaac started to kiss you lightly through the wet fabric, making you moan softly. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He breathed out before taking one of his hands and pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your soaked core to him. 

You could see the hunger in his eyes as he stared at your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Isaac praised, and you clenched at his words, biting your lip in hopes of keeping the whine that threatened to escape your mouth. 

Isaac couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction, but instead of teasing you, wanting to save it for next time, he leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, and your hands went to fist at your comforter. 

A breathy moan left the confines of your throat, and Isaac licked a strip from your slit to your sensitive nub, collected the slick leaking from you, and swirled his warm tongue around your clit. He drew it into his mouth, sucking on it softly. 

One of your hands left the mattress to clutch at his hair, a low moan emanating from the boy in between your legs. The noise sends vibrations to your cunt and fills your veins with pleasure. Your cries and whines filled the room as Isaac ate you out like a man starved. You had barely registered that the bed was moving slightly due to Isaac rutting against the mattress and that he had ripped your panties off of you and completely dove into you, his tongue deep in you as he thumbed at your clit, wanting to wring out as much pleasure from you as possible. 

“Oh fu-uck.” Both of your hands were in his hair at this point. “Shit, Isaac.” You could barely form words between your moaning, the heat in your core building rapidly at his ministrations. 

Isaac smirked internally and moved his mouth to suck at your clit as he inserted a finger in you, the tugging at his hair and your moans spurring him on to try and make you cum. 

“Isaac.” You whined at the feeling of your cunt finally being filled. 

He quickly added a second finger, slowly thrusting in and out of your slick cunt. “Yeah, baby?” Isaac asked, pulling away for a moment, kissing your inner thigh, and tilting his head to look up at you. He could stare at your blissed-out face forever, it being the second most beautiful thing he’s ever seen from you (the first one being your smile). 

“I-i need to- fuck!” A choked moan leaves your lips as Isaac’s fingers brush against your g-spot. 

Isaac grinned. “Need what? You gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.” 

Through the haze of lust, you could hear the teasing tone of his words, but you didn’t care. “Please, let me cum.” 

“There you go, pretty girl.” Isaac began to pump his fingers harder, making sure to hit your g-spot with every thrust, and latched onto your swollen nub again. 

“Fuck!” You felt the knot in your core threatening to snap. You were practically writhing in your bed, sweat coating your body as Isaac continued to finger you. 

“I’m-I’m-” 

“Let go sweetheart.” Isaac mumbled into your folds before pressing hard against your g-spot and sucking your clit hard. 

The knot snapped, and a keening whine left your lips. Your warm walls clenched against Isaac’s fingers. His fingers slowed, working you through your orgasm until it subsided. He pulled his fingers out of you gently, mindful of your tender cunt. He peppered small kisses on your thighs, trailing up your body, waiting for you to come down from your intense high. 

You felt Isaac shift, resting next to you, and his hand brushed away the hairs that were stuck to your slightly damp forehead. You opened your eyes to find Isaac looking down at you with a gentle but shy smile on his face. 

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped your lips at how bashful Isaac was being and placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss, uncaring if you could taste yourself on him. 

Your lips melded with his, and you felt like you could kiss him forever; his lips were soft and warm against yours. Before you knew it, the kiss grew heated again. Isaac’s jeans were soon discarded, and his deep groans joined the chorus of moans that left you and filled your room as the two of you drew pleasure from each other.

Wolf whistles and clapping were your wake-up call the following day, your friends loitering outside of your room as they saw you and Isaac wrapped up in one another underneath your sheets. 

[here’s my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

[peachhcs]

friendsgiving in michigan

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

because thanksgiving falls so late this year, samy manages to arrange a friendsgiving weekend with everyone up at the lake house and pulls off a guest surprise in the process

2.4k words

a thanksgiving special from samy & the crew + emma cooper mention from my other au (that i still haven’t worked on). wanted to put together something fun for thanksgiving so enjoy and happy turkey day!! 🦃

au masterlist

SAMY HUGHES

FRIENDSGIVING WEEKEND AT THE LAKE HOUSE?

WHO'S FREE? THINKING 24th-27th?

RYAN LEONARD

HELL YEAH I'M IN

GABE PERREAULT

ME 2

ARAM MINNETIAN

ME 3

DREW FORTESCUE

ME 4!

WILL VOTE

u think we can bring the hagens, stiga, and buium along too?

SAMY HUGHES

yes!!! bring them all we'll have a full house this year i'm so excited!!

julianne, emma, & tell zeev's gf they're all welcome too

hannah's coming up with me

JACOB FOWLER

can't wait to be back in mich for a few days

RYAN LEONARD

gonna be the best reunion can't wait

can smitty come by chance?

WILL SMITH

shit i have a game the 25th and 27th 😔

GABE PERREAULT

fuckkkkk dude

ARAM MINNETIAN

smitty will be missed 😔😔

WILL SMITH

wish i could be there i'll be thinking of u guys ❤️

the entire house was buzzing with people everywhere either catching up with one another, cooking, or playing video games. samy was busy in the kitchen making mac and cheese while ryan and gabe attempted to help with the turkey after being put to work by samy (even though they asked if they could help her with anything).

sometimes others would pop in to see how it was going or steal some of the food knowing they couldn't eat it yet, especially jacob and drew. those two were notorious for getting a dip of something and then hurrying back out of the kitchen before samy or hannah yelled at them.

the house was filled with a lot of warmth which the youngest hughes loved. people were only in the house over the summer, so being able to fill it with people during the winter really made the girl happy, especially since she hadn't seen the boys since summer ended anyway.

the only thing that was missing was will and what no one but samy knew was that he was on a flight over right after his game to surprise everyone. she kept checking her phone to know when he was almost there so she could go out and get him. the couple planned it a few days after samy asked everyone if they were free for friendsgiving and who didn't love surprises?

"this is actually so gross," gabe complained while buttering and seasoning up the inside of the turkey. his hands were deep under the skin slowly rolling the flavoring into the meat. ryan snickered.

"sucks you got stuck with that job," the brunette taunted.

"shut up, dude," gabe rolled his eyes and samy laughed to herself at their minor bickering. her phone buzzed against the counter and her eyes flew to the screen, smiling when she saw will's notification.

"hey, gabe, you mind taking over this cutting for a second?" the girl held the knife out to the boy and he sent her a relieved look.

"yes, thank god. i don't wanna do this anymore," he scrubbed his hands off and eagerly took the knife from her to finish cutting up her potatoes.

samy swiped her phone from the counter to read her boyfriend's message.

WILL SMITH five minutes away

the brunette grinned to herself. she slipped out of the kitchen and out the back door where no one would see her leave or catch sight of will coming in when he got there. a bubble of excitement grew in her stomach knowing she couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction.

will's uber rolled down the drive and the girl's grin got even wider as she waited in anticipation on the porch. the blonde climbed out, waving to her as he grabbed his backpack and hurried up the wooden porch.

"hey pretty," he smushed her into a hug as she breathed him in and took her moment with him before everyone else took his attention inside.

"it's good to see you. everyone's inside. they're gonna be really excited to see you," she nodded towards the door. will smiled, leaning down to place a kiss to her lips, also wanting his moment with his girl before the guys stole him away.

"i'm kind of nervous, is that weird?" the blonde chuckled to himself as his gaze drifted towards the house again.

"no, but don't be. they're gonna be really excited," samy rubbed his arm and then waited for will's cue that he was ready to go inside. he nodded and she slowly pushed the door back open where everyone's voices filled their ears again.

samy led her boyfriend back towards the living room where mostly everyone was. they were scattered across the couches, chairs, and floor taking turns playing mario kart and too invested to notice the boy's presence until will knocked on the entryway.

aram's head snapped that way first. his eyes widened in surprise, shoving everyone out of the way as he jumped up and bounded his way to the blonde.

"holy shit! smitty!" aram exclaimed and basically tackled the boy into a hug. his excitement caught everyone else's attention and a whole new eruption of commotion broke out.

"yoo! what are you doing here?!" ryan and gabe came in to see what was going on, eyes wide when they saw their old friend standing before them.

samy stepped back, letting the boys have their moment together. her heart warmed seeing them all look so happy and jump around like little kids on christmas morning.

soon they were chanting "smitty, smitty, smitty" and the girls laughed at their behavior. hannah nudged her friend's arm, "now how'd you pull this off?"

"we pulled a few strings to get him out here for a day before his game on wednesday," the brunette explained with a little smile, still watching the boys take turns hugging will.

she sometimes forgot how much they all missed him too even if they didn't explicitly say it all the time. it really showed watching them all embrace will and express how excited they were to see him and spend time with him even if it was just for tonight and tomorrow before he had to get back on a plane for his next game.

after another thirty minutes, everyone settled down again. samy was finishing up a few last minute things in the kitchen while everyone else helped set up the table and find extra chairs from around the house so everyone had a seat. will stuck his head in for a moment.

"hey," he caught her attention.

"hey, what's up?" the girl wondered.

"need any help?"

"maybe just arranging all the food so everyone can just come in and grab what they want for their plates," samy explained how she wanted the food on the counters, so will quickly jumped in to do it for her.

"thank you for this. it's really great getting to see everyone," the blonde smiled softly.

"of course. i'm glad you were able to make it out," she reached up to peck his lips. will leaned in more, wanting a better kiss when she pulled back. samy giggled and obliged his wishes by leaning across the counter to kiss him better.

"hey lovebirds, the crew is getting hungry," hannah poked her head into the kitchen which broke the couple apart in a small blush.

"tell them to come in with their plates. it's all ready," the soccer player giggled.

her and will let everyone go first down the line, the boys filling their plates high. it was a good thing she made a lot of food knowing how much hockey players ate. she came back into the dining room last taking a seat right by will near the end. ryan tapped his fork against the glass before everyone started eating to get their attention.

"i just wanna say how thankful i am for all of you and getting to spend this holiday all together for the first time in two years. a big thanks to samy and her brothers for letting us stay for a few days and another really big thanks to samy for getting will here with us," the taller brunette looked at the girl who flushed under all the attention. she felt will squeeze her leg and kiss her cheek.

"also a big thank you for making most of this food. it looks amazing," gabe added and everyone agreed.

"i'm just glad we were able to make this happen," samy grinned.

"alright, let's eat!" ryan exclaimed. everyone clapped and then started digging in, the conversations flowing across the room.

the boston boys took turns sharing stories from the semester so far and filling will in on everything he's missed. hannah and samy took turns talking about what's been going on at michigan and the successful season the women's soccer team has had. julianne chirped in with things from providence and zeev and his girlfriend filled everyone in about denver and arizona. it was nostalgic hearing about the different lives everyone had been living since being together in michigan.

it didn't even feel like two years ago that the boys were playing in the usntdp and samy was graduating high school, but it was and that thought was a little scary with how much time has passed.

halfway through dinner, julianne brought out the wine. it was popped open and the bottle was a quarter of the way empty by the time everyone got a glass.

"emma and olivia might be a little new to this, but samy and will would not admit their feelings until literally we left for college," aram said with a low chuckle. the girl's face flushed while will rolled his eyes a bit. his arm was draped across the back of samy's chair, his fingers rubbing little shapes into her shoulder.

"i can imagine," emma giggled.

"they were insufferable at dev program. so, so oblivious," drew shook his head.

"well, i wanna know how gabe and emma got together," hannah chirped up. the other couple exchanged a glance, smiling at one another and everyone shared knowing smiles.

"we took french together and i sucked at econ, so she helped tutor me," the darker-haired boy explained with a bit of a blush.

"he would not tell us he was seeing her, so we had to literally find out ourselves," ryan rolled his eyes a bit.

"you guys were just being nosy," gabe grumbled making the boys chuckle.

"or you were just being secretive. either or," jacob shrugged.

"whatever. let's talk about something else," gabe shifted the conversation away from him and emma who just giggled at the teasing.

they all talked for a bit longer before helping with the dishes and getting the food put away. a lot more thanks were thrown around to everyone and then it was just samy and will left in the kitchen together after she shooed the others out promising they did enough and didn't need to keep helping with clean up.

the couple worked in comfortable silence with will rinsing the dishes and samy putting them into the dishwasher. "thanks again for this. tell jack and quinn thanks too," the blonde hummed.

"i will. they gave me very strict instructions about not destroying the house," she giggled.

"just watch minnetian and leonard. when they get beer in their systems they go kind of crazy," will laughed too and both of their eyes flicked to the living room where the group retreated to.

"i hope we can make this happen again during winter break too. hopefully this won't be the last time i'll see everyone until summer," the blonde's lips turned into a small frown.

"i'm sure we can make something happen, don't worry. maybe we'll even plan a trip out to san jose to see you play at a game. at least leno, gp, and i will," samy assured. her boyfriend's lips flipped back into a smile at her words.

"i love you," he paused their movements for another kiss which she reciprocated. they connected their lips, tasting the remnants of the wine on one another's lips.

"will get in here! teddy's about to take your nhl high score!" ryan yelled from the living room, breaking the two apart. the blonde sighed a little, the interruptions reminding him of summer and never getting a second alone.

"be right there!" he called back.

he helped samy finish the dishes before pulling her into the living room with him. will took the empty chair and then patted his legs as samy's indication to sit in his lap. she flushed a bit before cuddling into the blonde's side and fitting into the chair with him.

teddy and drew were playing quinn and jack's nhl video game where will had the highest score—something he worked hard to build up over the years. the others giggled, a bit wine drunk watching the two boys battle it out on the screen together.

"i win! i win!" teddy jumped up and reached for the high fives.

"damn. who's next then?" drew wondered and will immediately raised his hand.

"i wanna keep my record," the boy handed him the controller where will reached his arm around samy's back to hold it with both hands. she giggled, finding a comfortable spot on the boy's chest to watch the tv.

gabe took the other controller and a few of the guys oohed seeing the two best friends matchup against one another. they spent the rest of the night switching between mario cart and the other sports games samy's brothers had. it wasn't until at least 3:30 in the morning when everyone went to sleep. they all wanted to spend as much time as they could together, especially with will since he was leaving the next day.

"hey samy?" gabe and ryan stuck their heads into the kitchen one last time before going to bed where the girl started the dishwasher.

"yeah?" she wondered.

"thank you for doing this and thank you for getting will here. best friendsgiving yet," ryan grinned making the girl flush.

"of course, guys. it was really good seeing everyone together," she brought them in for a quick hug. "now get some sleep. it's late," she pushed them back to the spare room, careful not to step on the others asleep throughout the house.

when she finally got up to her room, will was already fast asleep in her bed. she smiled at his sleeping figure, shutting the lights off and climbing in beside him.

even though he was asleep, he felt her presence and turned so he could wrap his arms around her frame in a strong hold. the youngest hughes cuddled herself into will's side, kissing his cheek and falling into a deep sleep.

[kawacake]

BACK TO BLACK

Masterlist

Paring: Yan!Chrollo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Toxic (Chrollo), Drugging, Non-Con, Psychological Manipulation, Yandere Behavior (themes of possessiveness, stalking, unhealthy attachment.), Literally Chrollo

Listen to Back to Black by Amy Winehouse while reading

YAN!CHROLLO who stood in the dim lit hotel room as you told him goodbye for good but he wasn’t really surprised due to you being a married woman afraid that your husband might find out about your affair.

YAN!CHROLLO who kept tabs on you and your ‘Husband’ ever since the night at the hotel because he has gotten attached to you in a sick and twisted way.

YAN!CHROLLO who popped up at your door while your husband was ‘away’ to try and win you over but failed due to you threatening to call the cops and yelling at him for having the audacity to show up to your house without a warning.

YAN!CHROLLO who slowly started to ruin your life by making you and your husband lose your job, bills start to getting expensive, and nobody would hire you or your husband for some ‘unknown’ reason so you had no other choice but to run back to Chrollo for some kind of help.

You stood in front of Chrollo as he looked down at you with his pajamas on with an irritated expression on his face. “It’s two in the morning what could you possibly need?” He said rather harshly but that soon faded away as he noticed your tear stained face.

He invited you inside after seeing the tears that stained your precious face, “Sit.” He said pointing at his couch and you made your way over to the couch to take a seat as he made his way into the kitchen. Chrollo soon came back with a cup in hand and a blanket handing you the blanket first then the cup with tea.

“Tell me what’s wrong princess.” He says softly while you took a sip out of your tea but your eyes then starts to tear up again. “I’ve been going through so much I lost my job, me and my husband! Other jobs won’t even hire us and my landlord went up on rent so much that I can barely pay and I need help.” You said stumbling over some words.

You continued to ramble on about your struggles while Chrollo sat in front of you till you felt your mind started to get a little foggy and your muscles started to relax, but then everything hit you as your eyes went wide as you stared at Chrollo with betrayal in your eyes before everything went black.

Such a fool for believing someone like him would help you out of all people.

YAN!CHROLLO who watches you wake up from your nap asking if everything was okay because you all of a sudden blacked out on him but now your panties are gone along with the bra you had on before but you didn’t dare say anything about it when he handed you a stack of cash.

YAN!CHROLLO who randomly got text from you after you got the cash questioning him about your panties and bra that disappeared that night begging him to tell you what happened but he denied anything happening and said “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

YAN!CHROLLO who went back to his old stalking ways after you cut him off AGAIN after the incident that happened now he’s watching from afar how happy you look with your husband wishing it was him deep down.

YAN!CHROLLO who has already plotted a way to have you to himself but first he needed to get rid of that piece of shit you called a husband because the only man you need in your life is HIM