#I’ve got a fic written

[an-eala-bhan]

Me: I’m gonna write about something other than matchablossom

Also me: *only writes matchablossom*

[pizzaqueen]

This little scene came to me when I was sleep deprived lol some established relationship fluff

"Tell me your deepest, darkest fear," Eddie says.

Steve glances sidelong at him where he's sitting next to Steve on the couch. He doesn't ask what kind of question is that because it's very much an Eddie kind of question. Instead, he says, "Kind of already lived most of them."

"What about the ones you haven't lived?"

"I—" Steve sighs. If he tells Eddie to drop it, he will. Or he could say something about zombies or ghosts or some shit. But he finds himself saying, "Sometimes I think I'm either too much or not enough, you know?" A beat and then: "I mean, in relationships or whatever."

"Even with me?"

And, okay, Steve didn't think that through. He shrugs and says, "Maybe."

"Then your fear is totally unfounded."

Steve looks at Eddie again. "Is it?"

"Yeah, of course. You are just right." Eddie grins. "Not too hot, not too cold," he adds as he gets up on his knees on the couch, then swings one leg over Steve. "Okay, bad analogy, because you are definitely too hot for your own good sometimes." He rests his hands on Steve's shoulders, moves them around to loop behind his neck. "But you're my bowl of porridge.”

"I'm your bowl of porridge?"

"Yeah, you know, goldilocks and the bowls of porridge and—"

"Oh, I got it." Steve smiles, then lets his head rest against Eddie's chest. "Bowl of porridge," he mutters. "You're a dork."

"Hey." Eddie shoves Steve lightly. "I'm being romantic. I think."

"Then you're a romantic dork."

Eddie pokes his tongue out. Steve does it back. Eddie shakes his head and says, "I just... I meant, you're not... You're exactly enough for me. Okay?"

"Okay."

Eddie's eyes narrow. "You believe me, right?"

"I believe you." Steve holds up his hand in a scout salute. "Scout's honor."

"Good." Eddie gently nudges Steve's forehead with his. "Because you're... You're the only one who's right for me."

"So are you," Steve says.

"Yeah?"

"Of course." Steve grins. “You're my bowl of porridge, too."

[venusandsaturnsrings]

despite his mostly metal form, most things remained the same about boothill. his love of whiskey, charming accent, and penchant for causing problems but, more importantly, his alignment.

as long as you’d known him, which was six months at most, boothill had been everything the textbooks said about alphas. strong-willed, a tad arrogant, outgoing, and very much a show off. the latter translated into him being an annoyance more than anything but, alas, he seemed glued to you.

it was the second time this week you’d woken to rocks tapping against your window, boothill grinning widely from the ground; he wanted you to come out. not keen on rousing any roommates, you threw on whatever was on top of your laundry hamper and shuffled outside scowling at him. suave as ever, he gave you a ‘nice outfit, sugar, that designer or what?,’ followed by cackling laughter interrupted when you flicked his forehead. one half-baked apology later, you’re being taken to a super special secret spot he just had to show you at three in the morning.

half an hour and many bottles shot off of ledges later, he’s lead you through a complex series of markers to the edge of a small grove. bathed in the trim of moonlight and beginnings of sunlight, you have to admit the sparkling waterfall and unique flora is probably the most charming place he’s dragged you to. with a faux annoyed huff, you turn to give him thanks through gritted teeth only to find the cyborg cowboy has perched himself on a boulder to look at you like a lovesick puppy; it throws you for a loop. despite all the inflated chattering and chest puffing he does, sometimes you forget he really has a thing for you until he’s silently gazing at you without a word, waiting to hear you. ‘fuck that,’ you decide and claw your way up the boulder to lean against his shoulder. you don’t miss the way boothills smile widens and he practically purrs at your touch, but he doesn’t say a word, too nervous to ruin what’s happening.

it’s another six months later when you find yourself back at the grove a second time, your relationship having finally blossomed into something more than tapping at the edges of hostility (you were the only annoyed one but he’ll let you have your fantasies). hands intertwined, one metal and one flesh, he carries the bag of treats and a blanket in his other; he proclaimed his partner should never have to lift a finger. something something cowboys honour.

it was three in the morning as it had been before and you were tangled limbs next to the pond. his lips made a path from your jaw to sternum, slightly chapped but fully loving; part-time soulmates, full-time vulgar. boothill let his fingers climb up your thighs and down your sides until you were fully bare before him, bathed in the trim of moonlight and the edges of sunlight, prettier than the stars. pheromones coating the surroundings, he let himself indulge in your flavour, pulling the strings of pleasure so you sing oh so sweet for him. in a haze of his signature scent, musky whiskey and spice, you let him have his way.

[kingtheghast]

Martyn shrank into his armor slightly. Fuck. He was an idiot. “Ah.”

TL;DR - Martyn is a warlock mercenary who stumbles through a gate to the Plane of Faerie, and accidentally indebts himself to the local Archfey lord, King Ren. Shenanigans ensue.

My pieces for @mcytblraufest from the renchanting duo fic, to bedevil and beguile, by @eternalduos

[wickjump]

This isn't whump but I had a thought on the way to work about mtt poly + crepic, what if they were all competing for Cross's affection but it's not in a "I'm better you should love me instead of him" way, it's all a big excuse to spoil and fluster Cross as much as they can and they're all in on it

OH MY GOD YES. after being deprived of affection his whole life cross now has 4 boyfriends who love him very much and that’s perfect for him. he deserves it..!!!!!!

cross absolutely freaked out when it first started and he has not gotten any less flustered over the months. because he’s been wrapped up in self loathing for AGES and now all of a sudden there’s four different people flirting with him? his face is like a goddamn grape half the time because of them. they gift give cross a lot,, he deserves to be spoiled by them i think bc we all know his dad never did. he deserves lots of physical touch and quality time too methinks…..

i like them a lot sighs,, i think epic and the mtt have way too much chemistry too which is what spurred this ship on in my mind (and im a fan of mtt poly too,,) I think they should all date and be happy and get to comfort each other through tough times idk

bonus though if there’s some actual rivalry at first even if only for a little. either between all of them or the mtt and epic because they don’t know each other well. epic could think they have bad intentions and doesn’t trust them bc they’re literal murderers and the mtt isn’t fond of an ‘outsider’ being so involved in cross’ life when he’s very able to tattle on them because he lives in the OT.

and then they go “wait. okay you’re lowk kinda hot. what about this. you know what would be infinitely funnier? let’s tag team him” and now cross is their no.1 victim. he’s obliterated any time he enters a room.

i like to think they’d take him on dates he doesn’t realize are dates. but they think he knows it’s a date (i mean, who takes their coworker/best buddy to a nice dinner, drive in movie theatre, and end the day with a bouquet of flowers platonically??). or rather he thinks he’s overthinking everything and taking things the wrong way because his skull is thick as shit.

meanwhile nightmare is aroace and wondering why the fuck everyone is so happy and distracted as of late. please get back to work im begigng you. WHY do i find you all sleeping in the same bed?? .WHY IS EPIC IN THAT BED??? HE DOESNT EVEN LIVE HERE???????? (he’s just subtly moving in at this point)

[samporterbridges]

Redraw of these two because Jackienat needs more art and I def didn’t make this to procrastinate the fic I should be writing about them

[ninyard]

it’s unfinished but if you liked that betsy pov thing here’s ur reminder that i have like nine chapters of an andrew/bee dual pov fic starting from his first session with her :))

[jensen-frackles]

it’s wild how I’ve developed a hyperfixation on jeffrey combs over the span of like two nights

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS- 

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable. 

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

--

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before. 

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high? 

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was. 

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off. 

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too. 

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.” 

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs. 

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand. 

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words. 

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?” 

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement. 

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question. 

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?” 

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock. 

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago. 

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth. 

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too. 

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline. 

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue. 

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to. 

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now. 

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.” 

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…” 

-Next Day- 

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago. 

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission. 

-

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her. 

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer. 

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.  

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster. 

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

--

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine. 

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

My

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

-

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

 “Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again. 

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe?  shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

--

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me. 

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line. 

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us. 

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk. 

 --

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.  

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. 

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

--

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it. 

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

--

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble. 

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?” 

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers? 

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

-

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky. 

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you. 

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once? 

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy. 

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle. 

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be. 

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body. 

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space. 

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot. 

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out. 

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness. 

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one. 

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush. 

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one. 

“It’s empty.” 

Next Chapter -> 06 - Like Us*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday 💋

Tagged by @tizniz. Please go read her snippet and show it some love (her brain isn’t being nice to her atm about her writing so our love and encouragement needs to be louder). Thanks 😘

Coming at you with more Rival Firefighters 🚒. Todays snippet is set just before this one which isn’t actually tagged with the #rival firefighters fic tag because at the time I was still on chapter eight and didn’t want to give anything away, but I’m pretty sure I fooled nobody and you all knew what it was from 😅

When Eddie gets home he heads straight inside, Buck following a minute later, the door shutting with a click that sounds too loud in the silence surrounding them. Eddie rakes his eyes up Buck’s body, hungryily drinking him in. He can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on every inch of him.

“Okay so I know you said you wanted to talk about this - us - after dinner but we kind of got a little bit distracted with the kissing and —.”

Eddie pushes Buck against the door and crashes his lips into Buck’s, effectively cutting off his sentence. He licks into Buck’s mouth and relishes in the moan that reverts through Buck’s chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to shut you up like that?” Eddie breathes into the scant space between their mouths after he breaks their kiss.

“I’m guessing probably since the day you met me.” Buck grins, a cheeky and beautiful thing that Eddie absolutely has to taste. He swoops in and captures Buck mouth again, enjoying the feeling of Buck practically melting in his arms.

“Yeah,” Eddie pants after he’s pulled away, “pretty much.”

“Mmm I bet there were other ways you imagined shutting me up” Buck says around a smirk before he’s devouring Eddie’s mouth in a kiss that has his toes curling.

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @puppyboybuckley @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz @wikiangela @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @epicbuddieficrecs @evanbegins @jesuisici33 @goforkinard @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @shortsighted-owl @shitouttabuck @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @donationwayne @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @king-buckley @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @missmagooglie @mellaithwen @monsterrae1 @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @nmcggg @captain-hen

[euphor1a]

Bewitched (iii)

↬ pairing: bad boy!yeonjun x good girl!oc

↬ characters: loner bad boy!yeonjun, heartthrob!soobin, best friend!beomgyu, female oc (can be read as f!reader too) + a few supporting characters.

↬ genre: college!au, bad boy!au, slow burn, drama, strangers to lovers, smut, a bit of unrequited love.

↬ summary: After starting college, you never really imagined that you’ll cross paths with Choi Yeonjun — the loner bad boy with influences. But life is full of surprises, ain’t it?

↬ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~3.1K

↬ warnings: profanity, mentions of anxiety, bullying, explicit sexual content; manhandling, dirty talk, fingering, orgasm denial.

↬ disclaimer: this is fictional and doesn’t reflect any of their actions or personality!

↬ previous 𓍯 series masterlist

↬ a/n: thank you to anyone who’s still interested in this baby of mine, i appreciate you a ton <3

You’re supposed to vacuum the apartment today, but you can’t seem to focus, at all. And honestly? It sucks. The more you’ve been trying to move on and be grateful to have dodged a bullet like him, the harder you’ve been thinking about the culprit nonstop.

Three days have passed since you found out a very shocking fact that has left your poor heart in a whirlwind. But you don’t know which is more terrifying — the fact that Daniel is Yeonjun and he lied about his identity, or the cold, harsh truth that you’re still insanely attracted to him. 

A dreary sigh escapes you. Life is not favoring you at all. It’s become such a pain in the ass at this point. Why did you have to fall for someone like him? It would’ve been so much easier if you had feelings for someone whom you know and trust, someone sweet and caring, like Soobin, or even Beomgyu.

Plopping down on your couch, you close your eyes. Things are looking very complicated right now. Not only the thought of that lying bastard has plagued your mind, but also, it’s hindering your daily life. You’ve been extremely unmotivated and anxious ever since the truth unfolded. You wish you had the power to fix everything, but alas, you don’t. 

You remember how Yeonjun looked at you under the moonlight, the way his soft lips devoured your mouth. Are bad boys really capable of such gentleness? You don’t know… from the start, you’ve stayed away from the problematic people, like “bad boys”, just as your parents instructed. And guys like Yeonjun, if you’re being honest — you still prefer to steer clear out of their way. Not the devil himself, though. He got you addicted so fast and so hard that it’s difficult to back out now.

As if to distract you from his thoughts, your phone rings loudly. You squint your eyes, letting the sound bring you back to reality. Soon after, you inhale sharply and reach for the device, your heartbeat picking up with stupid hope.

Turns out it’s Soobin. With a gentle smile on your face, you answer the call, his soft voice cooing in your ear.

“___, just wanted to check in! How are you holding up?” You calm down almost instantly, grateful to have someone like him in your life.

“I’m… alright, I guess. How about you, Soobs? Anything interesting going on?” You speak softly, not keen on making this gentle giant worried in any way.

“Ehhh, what a lame way of trying to change the subject. It didn’t work. You better be taking care of yourself, miss lady, or I’ll–” 

You cut him off midway, reassuring him. “Oh god, of course I am taking care of myself! Don’t worry!” 

“Hmph.” Soobin grumps on the other side. Even if he tries to come off as threatening, he really just ends up sounding adorable.

“Oh, come on now, don’t be mad at me…” your voice is adorably childish in the end, making him sigh. Why do you do this to him? 

“I’m not mad at you. But you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Did you really call me to lecture me about self-care?”

He groans at that. “So, what if I did?” 

You pout, trying to change the subject. “Soob, can I ask you for something?” 

“What is it?”

“Where did you meet Yeonjun that day? Just curious.” 

There’s no answer.

“Soobin?” 

He clicks his tongue. “At our college.” 

“I know that! I mean where at the college?!” you whine, clearly displeased.

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Why?” 

“Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.” 

“I didn’t ask for your favor, did I?” 

He ends the call, leaving you frustrated. Before you can call him back, you see a message pop up in your notifications.

Soobin: i think ___ is genuinely going crazy

Soobin: beomgyu, we gotta do something

___: Soobin… 

Soobin: gyu? this is urgent! 

Gyu: uhhh what now..? 😭

Soobin: she wants to know where i met yeonjun.

___: 😶

Gyu: girl why are you asking for trouble 

Gyu: if it’s something important we can talk to him about it 

___: Do I look like a five year old to you?

___: Why would you talk to him instead of me?

Soobin: you don’t understand, do you?

___: Understand what? This bs?!

Gyu: ___… 

Soobin: see, this is why it’s so hard to communicate with you 😔

Gyu: soobin! don’t! 

___: Wow, okay. I’ll leave you guys be.

Gyu: nono princess 🥺 don’t listen to him!! soobin is out of his mind!! 

Gyu: you can’t just leave us :( 

___: Damn right I can 🥰

Soobin: NO ONF IM SO SORRY 😭😭

Soobin: *omg i was just emotional and said whatever came in my mind i’m sorry

Gyu: this is such a mess 🥲

Soobin: don’t leave us 🥺🥺🥺🥺😔😔☹️☹️😢😢💔💔

___: Yeah whatever

Gyu: why do you want to meet yeonjun, anyway? 

___: *sigh*

___: It’s personal.

Soobin: uhm that’s suspicious 🙂

___: And you asking the very same Yeonjun for “help” isn’t? 

Soobin: ouch 🤕

Gyu: this guy… how many times do i have to tell you to watch your damn mouth 😒

Gyu: ___, i understand that it’s personal. but, as everyone says, it’s better to stay away from him.

___: You two don’t understand 😞

Soobin: i give up 

Gyu: soobin 😬

Soobin: i’ll text you the wing, floor and room no. 

___: Thank you, I guess

Soobin: you’re welcome bb 🥺

Gyu: soobin, you’re a whole goose 🙄

___: Huh? 

Soobin: GYU 🔪🔪🔪

Gyu: nothing lol

___: Okay 

Soobin: 🥺🥺

Gyu: 😧

___: ??? Bye

Gyu: just promise that you’ll be careful! 

___: Promise 🥰

Gyu: 😘

You smile as you notice Soobin’s direct message shortly after. Instantly giddy, you sent him a bunch of heart emojis.

It’s official. You’re gonna confront Choi Yeonjun. Face to face.

Next monday,

So, today’s the day. You’ve thought it through several times and took your time. Beomgyu did try his best to scare you off, but you’re not afraid of Yeonjun. Not at all.

Maybe because you know that he has a weakness for you. Or probably because the urge to meet him is too much and it’s numbing any other senses. Either way, here you are, walking through the hallway that leads to where he usually hangs around.

Tall, scary looking fellas stare you up and down, whispering to themselves as you walk up to the empty classroom, also known as his den. 

“Hey kitty, where are you going?” An edgy looking girl stops you, regarding you curiously. The unsolicited nickname throws you off, but you refuse to let that be visible. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you shrug, hoping to appear nonchalant. They are kinda scary… 

Another guy comes up, his voice mocking, “This place isn’t for you, cutie. Go back to your class or something.” A bunch of other guys agree, laughing at you. 

Their ridiculous behavior makes you sigh. This type of people are the last ones you wish to deal with. “And who are you to tell me that, exactly!?” you state firmly, crossing your arms around your chest. 

A bunch of them chuckle, drawing more attention. “Aww look, she’s trying to bite back. How adorable.” 

“Really? Is that a way to treat someone?! If I’m here, that surely means that I have business with him, don’t you think?” you hiss in anger, glaring at everyone who gathers around to see the show.

Your words and attitude only fuel their laugh. A person from the crowd remarks, “Look, this little nobody thinks she has business with ‘him’, apparently.” 

More people join in to laugh at you, various remarks being thrown around carelessly. You start to feel cornered and humiliated, your hands turning into fists from frustration. 

“Why the hell is there so much noise? Do y’all want to be sent back or what?” A deep, commanding voice shuts everyone up. You turn around with bated breath, your body freezing immediately as your eyes register the familiar face. 

It’s him. The demon that’s been haunting you for weeks now.

Yeonjun seems pleasantly surprised when he sees you, but he quickly replaces it with his cold demeanor. “What was happening here?” 

The girl who approached you comes forward. “This… this kitty was trying to get into your office. So, I stopped her and asked what she was here for. Guess what? She was trying to be all sassy as if she’s the one in charge. Obviously, she got destroyed… hence all the noise.” 

His expression is unreadable for a second, and you wonder if you’re gonna be sent back empty handed. But then, Yeonjun glares at the gathered crowd menacingly, a hushed silence falling across the hallway. The ones at the front immediately lower their heads. “Judging a book by their cover now, are we? I don’t keep you guys around to assume if a kitty has business with me or not. And, last time I checked, stopping someone doesn’t include ridiculing them in front of everyone just to feed your petty little egos.”

“Jun, but–” one of the guys start, taking a step forward. 

“I don’t have time for your hollow excuses, get out of here immediately, all of you.”

“We’re sorry!” Several of them chime in, dispersing without looking back. But some throw you suspicious looks, earning another glare from Yeonjun. 

“My, my. Rebelling much? If you have a problem, then come over here and talk to me.” His raised voice booms through the space, making everyone leave with mumbled apologies. Once everyone is out of sight, he turns towards you, his eyes earnest. “I’m sorry for how they acted. They’re not used to seeing pretty, little, goody two shoes like you around here. But still, they were rude, and I apologize.”

You nod in acknowledgment, rolling your eyes. For some reason, his words feel insincere. But you have other things to worry about. Like, confronting him for his actions.

Before you can do or think anything further, Yeonjun grabs your wrist, gently pulling you inside the classroom. You gasp when he presses you up against the closed door, his body caging yours, a bit too close for your liking. 

His brown irises study you with curiosity. “Why are you here, ____?” 

You struggle against his grip, trying to move your hands away but failing. “Ugh– let me go!” Being so close to him makes you feel all mushy, and you don’t want to deal with that now.

Thankfully, he untangles one of his hands from yours, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Pfft— Shouldn’t I be the one demanding for answers, Daniel?” 

Like the maniac he is, Yeonjun chuckles at that, shaking his head. “I see. What answers, if I may?” 

Is he kidding with you right now? What the hell is this attitude? “Why did you lie?” 

He stops at that, regarding you thoughtfully. “I had my reasons.” 

His monotonous reply pushes you off to the edge. Failing to hide your anger, you jab a finger on his chest, demanding clarity. “What reasons, Yeonjun? That you had to lie and play with my feelings for a day?”

Yeonjun grits his teeth, his grip tightening significantly on your wrist. “I did not play with your feelings, ___.” 

“Liar.” punching him on the chest, you try to take your hand away, but it backfires. He traps you inside his strong embrace, his hot breath fanning over your head. 

“What are you doing–”

He tips your chin upwards, his pupils dilated as he looks at you with a burning hunger. “You enjoy testing my patience, don’t you?” 

Your body shivers involuntarily, your lips just inches away from his. Swallowing nervously, you look away. But he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Yeonjun leans in, dangerously close to you. “I’m warning you, don’t play with fire. You’ll be suffering and I hate to admit it, but I’d be damned if that happens.” His whisper is hot against your lips, a weird feeling coiling in your stomach.

What the hell is he talking about? Why does he sound like he’s from a cliché forbidden romance fanfiction? 

“Well, what if I want to play with fire?” You suppress your wish to cringe, eyes challenging him to reply. A strange wave of emotions displays in his brown irises, his free hand forming into a tight fist. 

“Don’t blame me when you get burnt.” His lips crashes against yours swiftly. Yeonjun lets go of your arm, and you curl them around his neck, instinctively pulling him closer. He smiles in the kiss, as if victorious, his hand grabbing your ass and squeezing the flesh briefly. The stinging sensation makes you moan. 

Yeonjun grazes your lower lip with his teeth, asking for permission to ravish your mouth — which you gladly provide. His prying tongue slides past your lips, meeting with your tongue in a passionate kiss. You gasp in pleasure, pulling onto his hair when he starts trailing kisses down your jaw. Yeonjun backs you up against the only table in the room, his voice a growl. “Why do you do this to me? Fuck!” 

You look at him, your chest heaving as you try to process the mind-blowing kiss. But alas, he’s not done yet. 

“Are you here for this, huh?” He reaches to drag his thumb over your chin, forcing your gaze up to him. “Wanted my touch that bad? ___?” 

Liquid heat rushes through your veins when he moves his hands all over your body, brushing against your sensitive spots. He squeezes your breasts, enjoying the perky nipples that he feels through your clothes. “Tell me.”

“No!” You choke out, “I came here to ask you why you lied about your iden– ahh, god!” 

Yeonjun lowers his head to your neck, dipping his tongue to lick the sweet spot. You melt under his touch, both pleased and bewildered by the fact that he obviously hasn’t forgotten your most sensitive spots. His eyes are fixed on you as he brushes both his hands beneath your skirt, tracing them up to the edge of your panties. 

You throw your head back in pleasure, your knuckles turning pale as you grip on the edge of the table. “Please… ” you mewl, looking at him desperately. 

Yeonjun smirks, brushing your inner thighs. “Please what?” 

“I need you to touch me.” You sigh shakily, your eyes pleading with him. Apparently, he’s beyond teasing, because as soon as he reaches your soaked pussy, he pulls the piece of clothing to the side and pushes two of fingers into you.

“Yeonjun…” your head falls on to his shoulder while he pumps you gently, a groan escaping him. 

“Fuck, you’re drenched.”

He picks up pace, not giving you a moment to breathe. You cry out when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot. His pace gets rougher, clearly fueled by your moans. 

When his thumb finds your clit, you clench around him, your breath coming in short gasps.

Yeonjun smiles complacently. “You love this, don’t you?” The pressure on your clit increases slightly. “You love that I’m the one doing this to you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he draws his now slick digits away and puts them in his mouth, depriving you of an orgasm. 

You whine, biting his neck from the frustration. Yeonjun makes you look at him, his voice dropping by an octave, “Bad girls don’t get to come.” 

You try to rock your hips, craving any type of friction that can satisfy you. But he stops you, growling in your ear, “It’s time to go back, sweetheart. I have work to do. As much as I’d love to do you instead… I can’t. Not now.” 

You look at him with dazed eyes, your voice a whimper, “You always leave me high and dry like this. I came here to confront, but you–” 

“Shh. I told you; I had my reasons. I was simply trying to protect you.” 

“Protect me from what exactly?” 

Dropping a kiss on your forehead, he retracts. “I’ll tell you the next time we meet, ___. If I find it feasible, of course. You should probably fix your clothes though…” 

You look at your disheveled state, sighing. “You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” 

Yeonjun looks offended. “You clearly don’t know me yet.” 

“But–”

“No buts. Don’t you have classes or some shit?” 

You yelp at that, suddenly remembering where you exactly are. Quickly climbing down from the desk and fixing your clothes. While you finger brush your stray waves, he regards you intently. 

“Like what you see?” 

Yeonjun chuckles, nodding. You walk up to the nearby window to see your state, the dusty glass surprisingly reflecting quite well. “Tsk, thank god I wear a transfer-proof lip tint. All of my lip-gloss is gone however, and it looks weird.” 

“You don’t have a bag with you, though. How are you gonna reapply?” 

You sigh. “I left my bag with Soobin. I’ll just reapply later.” 

“Wait.” Yeonjun walks up to you slowly. “Won’t it look suspicious, though? I have a lip balm, does that work?” He offers you a small tube of strawberry scented lip balm. 

“Well, it won’t look the same but obviously it’ll be somewhat glossy.” 

“Then take it.” 

You quirk an eyebrow at him, gingerly taking the tube from his hand. His eyes follow each of your little movements as you part your lips a bit and apply the lip balm, pouting at the end which makes him chuckle. 

“Thanks, here you go.” You proceed to give it back, but Yeonjun shakes his head, throwing his hands up. 

“You can keep it for yourself. It suits you so well.” 

“Oh?” A bit surprised, you look at the cutesy tube of lip balm in your hands. “Thank you…? Won’t you need it though? Your lips look a bit dry, even now.” 

“Are my lips dry? Hold on.” Yeonjun leans in for a peck, his lips firmly landing on yours. Your heart skips a beat from his sudden action, butterflies in your stomach. Why’s he so??? 

He pulls back soon enough, rubbing his lips together. “Thanks, baby.” The glint in his eyes indicate that he’s enjoying this exchange very much, only causing your heart to go mayhem.

Nodding, you start to walk away nervously. You cross the room quicker than expected, hand resting on the lock of the door.  “We are not done yet, Choi Yeonjun.” As you look back one last time, you feel a strange sting in your chest. 

Yeonjun tilts his head, smiling, “Oh, trust me, this is just the start.”

end of part iii ↺ next

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading!! it’s been a while but i hope this was a fun read! 🩷 sorry for any mistakes left in there!

as always, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! your support keeps me motivated 🌺🌟 you can also send feedback through asks <33

[eltheabberation]

Day 12: AU

No no no no no it wasn’t supposed to happen like this-

Behold, one of the billion and one self-indulgent aus I have. I spent like 10 hours experiencing severe art block and watching House MD while trying to figure out what the fuck to draw but I managed to get this out and I actually like it :>

[th3archivisst]

Writing is like watching a mildly interesting Netflix program.

It’s fun, and when you start you spend hours on it, but if you make the mistake of taking a break before you’re done, say goodbye to finishing it that month.

[a-writing-otter]

Chapters: 1/12 Fandom: Gravity Falls, The Book of Bill (Gravity Falls) - Fandom Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bill Cipher/Ford Pines Characters: Bill Cipher, Ford Pines, Wendy Corduroy, Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Original Characters, Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez, Melody (Gravity Falls) Additional Tags: Handyman Bill Cipher, Post-Book: The Book of Bill (Gravity Falls), Temporarily Human Bill Cipher Summary:

Things are complicated in Bill’s life as it is now that he’s in a human body on glorified house arrest while doing community service as the new handyman for the Mystery Shack, what he doesn’t need it a situationship-turned-maybe-just-ship with Ford Pines.

…maybe he shouldn’t seek it out either, but that’s besides the point. He’s got one goal and that’s to get back in his body, get his powers back, and far away from this rock.

So, when salvation comes in the form of a former fling spinning plans about how to get his revenge and eat it, too, Bill’s all too eager to listen. It’s not like he cares about these people, this place, or anything else here. He’s got plans, big plans, and there’s nothing that can stop him, not even these squishy, human emotions he’s starting to feel.

[oldfashionedmorphine]

PREVIEW:

on the same frequency

-.-. .... .- .--. - . .-. / .----

December 22, 1985

“That’s awesome… ‘cause now I’ll finally be able to radio and talk to you whenever I want—no more fighting Nancy for the phone.”

“Yeah…” then Will slips a pair of brown gloves onto his hands, and as he stares down at them trying to think of what else to say, only one thing pops into his head—how he went along with Lucas’s lie about the roll and how much it was actually bothering him. It bothered him because Mike didn’t deserve that—he didn’t deserve to be lied to. And he’d probably be mad if he found out. He always works so hard on his campaigns and lying about the roll just made Will feel like he was a cheater and a bad friend—especially when Mike was standing right in front of him, all smiles and excited at the opportunity to talk to him endlessly on a ham radio—so of course the very next thing to come out of his mouth ends up being; “It was a seven, by the way…”

“Huh?”

“The roll... I found the d20… it was a seven.”

December 22, 1995

Every year Mike dreads his inevitable return to his hometown for the holidays—if it wasn’t for his parents and sisters, he’d never set foot in Hawkins ever again. But he especially hated coming back for Christmas because this particular time of year was forever laced with horrible memories that had a way of cutting into his heart like a sword. Of course, he’d never hear the end of it if he avoided his family’s holiday gatherings. Nancy would pester him, Holly would beg, his mother would cry—his father was perhaps the only one who wouldn’t care either way, he was always the apathetic type, yet he would likely still remind him how much it would break his mother’s heart. So every year, he’d wrap duct tape around his own just to prevent hers from breaking—he’d force himself to make the trip.

🎶 a song from chapter one 🎶

rating: mature

tags: alternate universe, not canon compliant, major character death, grief/mourning, ptsd, blood and injury, supernatural elements, time shenanigans, butterfly effect, thriller, angst with a happy ending

release date: 11/26/2023

tagging:

@kaiminluu @greenfiend @total-serene560 @across-thestars @boahey @magentamee @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @soyboystan @foodiewithdahoodie @booksandpaperss @likegoldintheair @mandycantdecide @hazmatazz @sparks-olivarpente @1-tehe-1 @lucasvenkman

(if you’d like to be tagged/untagged for future sneak peeks, please let me know!)

[adrift-in-thyme]

WARRIORS MY BELOVED