#have a playlist for it and everything too
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you don’t understand how mc is literally me and i am here. she’s me to a molecular level. no joke, i never read an mc that was so deeply similar to me it hit me like a gut punch.
reading this while listening to the playlist was truly an experience (which was so good btw i LOVE your music taste). can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous your writing is for a second??? the way you craft your sentences are so satisfyingly beautiful it’s insane!! some of my favorite quotes:
“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.”
“Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over.”
“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.”
“You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.”
“‘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.’”
i don’t know if you’ve ever read this book, but the vibes of this fic reminds me a lot of the starless sea by erin morgenstern!! literally my favorite book EVER. if you haven’t read it then i think you would like it a lot!! ^^
this is truly one of those types of stories that you come across and it just makes you absolutely fall in love with reading. the type that makes you want to pick up a pencil and feverishly write out the story that’s been in your head for years. if this story was a song, to me it would be dog days are over by florence + the machine. it just gives you that feeling that everything will work out and everything will be okay and this too shall pass. i love it so so much and i’m so happy that you decided to share it with the world so that people like me and so many others could come across it and read it for themselves! ♡♡♡
𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗
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  ⨾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
𝔴arnings 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
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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. 
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✎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!
#[ ౨ৎ ] 𖥦 kipo’s favorites .ᐟ#[ ✩ ] 𖥦 kipo’s fic recs .ᐟ#[ 𖦹 ] 𖥦 hueningkai .ᐟ#ribs playing as i finish this… the playlist for this is goated#THIS WAS SOOOO FUCKING GOOD HELLO???? immediately added to my all time favorites#kai in this is sooOoooOOOO RAHHHHHHH🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅#and FUCK yeonjun‼️‼️#the parallels with the months and kai being all like “it’s just a moth” and yeonjun straight up killing it#i genuinely could talk about this fic for forever#I LOVE WHEN THEYRE JEALOUS AND POSSESSIVE!!!!!!!!!!!! it’s gonna hit for me everytime and this HITTTT#i dream of your writing style i need to be inside your brain like you’re so insanely talented i NEED some of that water you’re drinking#i love how he got her to go with him and tried his hardest to show her that life is more than the town they grew up in.. that hit CLOSE#genuinely starting crying actually#and the scott street started playing as they confessed to each other and i SOBBED and THEN more than this started playing#i love the moth aspect so much like they’re truly soulmates tied together… nothing is gonna keep them apart not even themselves#THE ENDING WITH THEM IN THE BACKSEATTTTTTT#i (s)creamed like me next me next i need kai so bad especially during that scene he is so fucking hot#genuinely one of the best fics i’ve ever read like i’m trying not to have the tags and reblog be all long but i have THOUGHTS and FEELINGS#i WILL be rereading this over and over and over and over!! like genuinely this fic means everything to me i really needed it#the gentle and soft moments of them at the creek picking berries and the moths floating around them#they were ALWAYS meant to be and the moth yeonjun smashed just proves it like#“every song is about you” I LITERALLY SCREAMED AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGSSSS LIKE!!!!!!! one of my favorite tropes ever it hits like crack fr#i fucking love this so much and i’m stealing all of the song out of the playlist too#i gotta reread it again so i can catch all the little details now that i have the full story#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai smut#hueningkai angst#txt x reader#txt smut#txt angst
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hwaslayer · 2 days ago
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wildfire (cs) | 7.5
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—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 1.2k
—chapter content/warnings: not much here!!, cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, subtle flirting (in san's and oc's terms lmfao)
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—a/n: hi! just a friendly lil reminder that these half chapters are random scenes/bits that couldn't really fit into a chapter or stand-alone as one. they're mostly in the past and will not always follow the exact timeline of the previous or upcoming chapter!
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San booked off most of his day to help Christopher with this symposium. Well, actually, most of the group has [minus a select few others] in order to make room for the quick tech rehearsal and run through before its official start time in the next half hour or so. The staff is now bringing in the fruit, cheese and other pastries, along with coffee, tea and juice— setting them outside of the conference room on a long table. The symposium is supposed to be 5 hours, being that everyone keeps to their 20-min presentation + 10-min Q&A times. San is off to the side speaking with Jongho and Chris, while Mingi and Zara are fiddling with the AV system to test their own presentations for the final time. Even though this is the one time most of their schedules worked, Yeosang had to skip out due to heading overseas for a conference. As San sips on his coffee, Yunho and Iseul walk in alongside of Namjoon. Per usual, he keeps greetings to a bare minimum:
AKA, a very subtle smile and nod to both. One that Yunho reciprocates, one that Iseul doesn't like to acknowledge.
But, whatever.
"Did you guys tell your labs about this?" Chris nervously wipes his hands on his dress pants, nervous about how his first symposium is gonna turn out.
"Dude." Jongho laughs and pokes fun at him. "Relax."
"I bragged about it way too much, I don't even know if people wanna come anymore." San teases, making Chris shake him by the shoulders. "Relax! They'll come!"
"What if no one shows up? We'll be giving presentations to each other—" Chris laughs, but a few people start trickling into the conference room; providing him with a sense of relief. "Oh, thank god." The three start giving small nods to the students and other faculty dipping in, greeting them just as they set their things down and grab some food.
"Can't believe you actually thought people wouldn't come. Think you might need extra chairs." San points out as more people flood in.
"Shit, I did it." Chris beams from ear to ear, shifting his attention to two more familiar faces. "Oh! Hey Y/N, Jiung!" He says as the two of you walk towards their group, giving them very curt bows.
"Hi." You smile at all, especially San. He bites onto his straw, trying his hardest to hold back his smile.
"Thanks for coming."
"Of course! Got a good lineup, excited to hear all the presentations!" Jiung tugs on his backpack straps.
"In that case, send me a full report on it tomorrow." Jongho jokes, making Jiung playfully roll his eyes.
"Do you see how he treats me?" Chris and Jongho laugh.
"Nah, he's been talking a lot about the work you've been doing and how you're probably the best person to help get the rig together for our optical electrophysiology project."
"Aw, really?" Jiung looks at Jongho. "You mean it?" Jiung has stars in his eyes and Jongho can't help but deny the allegations. He has said it time and time again; Jiung is definitely doing great work and Jongho doesn't want him to go anywhere. If he could keep him for good, he would. He hopes he can.
He'd just never say it out loud cause he's like that.
"Hey now." He shakes his head. "I never said anything, I don't know what he's talking about." 
"We have a few minutes actually, let's talk about that real quick and follow up in another meeting later on." Chris looks at you. "Sorry to have to pull him away from you, Y/N. Professor Choi #2 can keep you company?"
"All good." 
"Be back." Jiung looks at you. "I'll save us those chairs." He points towards two end spots near the middle section. You awkwardly watch as Chris, Jongho and Jiung approach another professor to talk about said project, leaving you with San. 
"Hi." He says shyly. You've never seen him this way, and he's too fucking cute, too fucking charming. It makes you replay the dinner events in your head, only pushing your curiosity of what he'd be like if you two were completely alone. 
"Hi. Is that your nervous face poking out? Are you nervous?" You tease a bit.
"Me?" He playfully scoffs. "No. Dinner was more nerve-racking than this."
"What, why?" You giggle.
"Because it's you. I have to be extra careful with you, remember?"
"Right." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his figure; he's dressed nicely in a white button up, tie and grey vest. They're all dressed nicely for the occasion, but it's definitely an extra weakness for you seeing San like this. 
"You're cute." He mutters as he bites his straw again and takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes looking around the room to make his flirting not so obvious. And it isn't, except Yunho has been watching from the side while he waits for Iseul to finish up working through some presentation issues with IT. He didn't mean to, but his eyes gradually glazed over to the two of you smiling and laughing.
He can't help it, but the interaction feels different. The only time he's ever seen San that shy and flustered is when he was courting Iseul. It almost feels like he's watching something unfold all over again. 
"All good!" Iseul says, knitting her brows together when Yunho seems to be preoccupied. "You okay?" She asks, Yunho finally returning his attention to her.
"Yeah, sorry. Was just people-watching." Iseul looks over, eyes also falling on San but she doesn't necessarily get a chance to think much about it before Yunho is chiming in again. "Let's go grab some food before it starts." He laces his hand with hers and leads her to the end, front row seats.
Meanwhile, you've been too busy keeping your attention on San to care about everyone else. You're so tempted to nudge him, be a little affectionate with him. And it's taking everything in you to remind yourself who you are and where you are at.
"Stop it."
"Glad you actually made it, though."
"I told you I'd come."
"And I'm glad it wasn't just something you said to brush me off in the hallway." You laugh.
"No, never." Jiung wraps up his talk with the other professors, his eyes meeting yours with a small nod towards the seats he sat his bag down at. "Well, guess they're done. I'll see you later? Goodluck on your talk, Professor Choi." He smiles toothlessly at you.
"Thank you, Y/N." He watches as you walk off and meet Jiung, plopping down onto the seat as he debriefs you on his impromptu meeting. 
"Hm." Jongho hums and clears his throat, slowly walking over to his bestfriend while sipping his coffee.
"Yes?"
"Nothing." Jongho squints his eyes at him, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Productive conversations going around, I see."
"Mhm." San chuckles, knowing exactly what Jongho's hinting at.
"Hey!" Zara comes over with a bright smile on her face. "We saved you some seats." She points at the front row on the left side, waving them over. "Come." 
"Sweet, thanks." Jongho leads the way while Zara tucks her hair behind her ear and walks alongside of San.
"Ready?" San shrugs as he looks at her.
"As can be."
"I'm sure it'll be great like always." He smiles.
"Thanks." He lets her slip into the seat next to Jongho before sliding into the end seat, eyes quickly glancing over at you before he gets situated and switches modes for the symposium.
Though, you are incredibly distracting, and he can only hope he can get you alone sometime soon just to show you exactly how he feels.
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—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny
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seulszn · 1 day ago
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Jinx Headcannons
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Warnings: Mild cussing, Fluff.
A/N: this is Modern Jinx headcannons so let me know if you want different headcannons from the show or separate headcannons
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Best Friend Jinx
I just wanna say Jinx gives HUGE Chaeyoung from twice vibes from the personality down to the aesthetic. Jinx would be one of those weird loser bisexual girls who comes to school with the weirdest outfits and listens to artists like Coco & Clair Clair, Gorillaz, Tyler The Creator, and Frank Ocean. She would be a huge anime consumer her favorite being probably being Death Note, Nana or one of those early 2000’s grunge like animes.
Jinx is a AWESOME baker I feel like she would be the type of person to just bake whenever she's stressed out or just completely bored she would bake like cookies and cakes and bring them to her friends house “I just wanted to bring you these” and just leave with no other questions. She was in charge of the schools bake sale and that's where she met you. And once she saw you the girl was OBSESSED she did everything in her power to get close to you and be friends with you.
Once you guys become close as friends Jinx would make you yummy treats, make you playlists, give you art or little trinkets she made. I feel like she would be one of those friends who would have absolute terrible ass grammar you could text her and you would not be able to understand what she said like at all at first but over time you started to understand
JINX 💙: hy did ypu do the magh hekmwqdk?
You: Did I do the what?
JINX 💙: the magh hekmwqdk
You: Bitch the math homework?
Imma say it now Jinx is a gamer she plays cutesy little games like animal crossing, Stardew Valley, Sims 4, untitled goose game, and Minecraft and I feel like you guys would have like a cute little island with the cutest villagers. Jinx would come to school with her Nintendo switch and get it confiscated almost every single class that she had to have a parent teacher conference because of it and now Silco checks her bag every day before she leaves out the door.
I want to touch back up on the clothes I feel like if you where to open up Jinx’s closet I feel like all you would see would be graphic tees, colorful tank tops, skirts of different colors, sizes, textures and patterns. I feel like if you where to ask someone what her fashion taste was they would say “if a little kid dressed themself” or if she got dressed in the dark. She usually gets her stuff at goodwill or like depop.
This is kind of what Jinx would wear on a daily basis:
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And we all know Jinx famous blue and pink nails that she rocks. I feel like she would also do the most craziest nail art herself or go to a nail salon for them to do it for her and she would LOVE you if you did some sort of matching nails with her. I feel like since jinx has anxiety she would do short nails so she’s not tempted on biting them but if she does grow her nails out then she would have you put that nasty nail polish on that taste disgusting if you put your nails in your mouth.
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Jinx knows how to play the guitar don’t @ me she was apart of a band with Ekko where she was the lead singer and guitarist and they just did covers of famous bands and singers they had a small little YouTube channel that actually had good some of views. She would play the guitar all the time anytime you came over you would be engulfed with the sound of Jinx just jamming out with her guitar (I also believe if I’m not mistaken their was a League of Legends ad where Jinx was playing the guitar but I’m not too sure).
Confessing Jinx
I feel like Jinx had a crush on you since she met you and she didn’t know how to confess it to you that she asked her big sister who is in a relationship with a girl what she should do cause poor girl was to scared to loose you if she confessed. I feel like she would ask you on Valentine’s Day she would have a WHOLE day planned just filled with things she she knows you would like, she baked your favorite dessert, painted her favorite picture of you, bought you a new game for your switch, made you a necklace, and bought you a bouquet of flowers and she dressed in a outfit you complimented her on on the first day you met her. Waiting for you she was nervous out of her ever loving mind thoughts running thru her head.
“What if she doesn’t like it?”
“What if it’s too much?”
“Will she like the flowers I got her?”
She tries to remember the script of what she’s gonna say when you walk thru the door and looks over at all the stuff he has laid out she panics and changes her mind but you walk thru the door with a soft smile and confusion on your face “hi” you smile and Jinx heart drops looking at how cute you are that everything she was gonna say leaves her head.
“Uh H-happy Valentine’s Day Y/N” she said handing you a bouquet of flowers she had hidden behind her back. You smiled at the kind gesture thanking the blue haired girl in front of you. Jinx was a nervous reck the whole time afraid of messing up this special day she lead you to the kitchen where your favorite dessert was made and she also made a homemade pizza in a shape of a heart with all of your favorite toppings “you did all of this yourself?” You would ask and Jinx would simply just nod her head with a small little smile on her face.
“But before we eat I have other stuff” she would say pulling you out of the kitchen she would gift you the painting, and the switch game that you have been wanting for while and she gave you one of her old tees that you would always wear when you came over. “Aw Jinx what is all of this pampering for” you would ask and she would just shrug her shoulders not knowing what to say.
She would confess to you at dinner with the pizza she made out in the backyard looking at the stars. You would point at all the different stars and tell her all the names of the different constellations Jinx doesn’t say anything just too busy looking at your pretty face to think of anything else once you notice you turn to her with a smile “what do I have something on my face?”
“Your just pretty that’s all”
“Thank you, you are as well” you say returning the compliment Jinx would frown looking down at the necklace she made you she feels as if she’s about to panic should she just say it and get it over with or just hand you the necklace. “Y/N these moments we made as friends genuinely mean so much to me and I want to make so much more with you” she would say as you look at her nodding at what she is saying.
She hands you the box with the necklace in it you open it looking at the shiny jewelry you glance up at the shy girl in-front of you nervous as ever. She breaths in and then out before saying those words she fears “Y/N would you like to be my girlfriend?” After she looks at your face trying to read your reactions but you where to much in shock to say anything. The girl in front of you asking basic you to be her girlfriend? You felt as if you where dreaming “Please say something this tension is starting to scare me”
You smile at the girl before jumping on her and planting wet kisses all over her face “YES YES YES I WILL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” You yell out with tears on your face Jinx sighs before giggling at your reaction you move off of her before laughing at the girl “what?” Jinx just smiles before pointing to the box you hand it to her and she opens the box removing the jewelry from it and places it onto your neck.
Girlfriend Jinx
I feel like your guys relationship wouldn’t be any different from when you two were friends but Jinx would be a huge SIMP for you anything you did she would be drooling over, she’s also VERY clingy you guys are like glued to the hip teachers would always ask “where is the other one” anytime you guys weren’t together and she she’s so clingy that she asked the principal if he could put you two in the same classes together but once he declined she pouted and pouted and just decided to wait for you outside your classroom.
Like I’m serious once her teacher says they are done for the day she would pack her stuff up and run to your classroom and just look into the room watching you write something down on a piece of paper you sometimes wouldn’t notice her mainly because you are too focused on the stuff the teacher is saying.
It wouldn’t be until a teacher yells at her to stop peeking into their classroom, for a student to tap your shoulder or for her to text you for you to even notice her. Once your class was over she would pace over to you and just give you the biggest hug as if she hasn’t seen you in years. “I was only away from you for like forty five minutes” you would giggle at the girls tight hug.
Since you guys how two different aesthetic i also think you guys would have like a separate friend group like you guys would have a main group like Ekko and then you two would have your own. (If that makes sense) so let’s say one of your friends pulls you away for lunch to sit by them Jinx would get so confused and then upset over the fact your friends would do that and she would be at another table sulking just glaring at you laughing and giggling with your friends. “You seem upset” her friends would say
When you guys do sit by eachother at lunch I feel like she would share her lunch with you but you would sometimes decline cause you want her to eat (she has a thing where she tends to starve herself) “I’m not hungry though” she would state and you would shake your hand pushing her lunch box back to her “you need to eat” she would roll her eyes and just do what you said.
I feel like Jinx’s favorite thing to bring to lunch would be like Dino nuggets or like a Lunchable with a juice box at first you thought it was very childish but Jinx simply says that this is her favorite lunch to pack. And she LOVES snacks so you tend to pack extra snacks to share with her at random times during the day.
When you guys share classes with eachother she always sits by you weather that’s in the front or in the back I feel like you two would exchange notes well it mainly Jinx exchanging notes and you trying not to get caught by the teachers the paper would have little doodles Jinx did or little questions she has
Jinx: wht th qustion to number 6?
You: I’m not telling you figure it out yourself
Jinx: YOU ARE SO MEAN! =(
Jinx: Can I have those pretzels?
She is actually very smart she just has a short attention span and forgets things like 95% of the time like if you see her zoning out in class you would poke her to get her attention and then lean in to whisper into her ear “are you paying attention?” Due to Jinx zoning out you write down a lot of what the teacher says to share it with her and she thanks you.
If you guys have to work together no work is getting done it just filled with Jinx yapping your ears off no matter how many times you try to tell her to focus she never does until you tell her your not gonna come over later after school and once she hears that she’s locked in.
This girl is the MOST Sassiest person you have ever met in your whole entire life she would make all these snarky remarks that leave you shocked there was a time she was arguing with Vi and she just mumbled these funny remarks as her sister is generally crashing out it could be over like Jinx eating the last slice of cake that Vi was gonna eat once she got home.
“I was gonna eat that!”
“Call down big back it wasn't even good to begin with”
Its funny how sassy she is but it also tends to get annoying
Jinx isn’t the type to get jealous well that’s what she tells herself but in all seriousness she’s the most jealous person you know. One time you invited her to a party one of your friend was hosting and the whole entire time she was close to you the whole night and would eye roll anybody who would flirt with you
“Y/N I love your hair, it’s nice” some random person would say and you would thank them with a smile and Jinx would scoff before mumbling something sassy under her breath you turn to her hitting her chest softly telling her to be nice. She would text you if her friends pulled her away and she sees something she doesn't like.
Jinx 💙: Who is that? Who is that getting all close to you?
Jinx 💙: WTF what did he whisper in your ear? Y/N your making me mad woman 😤
You: Bae chill he's my science partner plus he's gay
Jinx would LOVE PDA I feel like she wants everyone to know she bagged a baddie so she's kissing you in public and acting all flirtly she could care less what anyone thinks she always has to know you are by her so she's either holding your hand, wrapping a arm around your waist or putting her hands in your back pocket and she's always smacking your butt for some odd reason which has you jumping “stop doing that it hurts” you would say rubbing it.
You and Jinx would have a pampering day at her house where you do eachother hair and just relax. If your black and have like kinky curls I feel like she would watch you brush your hair and put in detangler, and then try it herself cause she is in awe at your hair texture, and trust in this Jinx will look up how to do your texture of hair, she's watching youtube videos, reading books, asking some of her friends with the same texture she's doing it all so the next time you have a pampering day she knows what she is doing.
“How the hell you know how to do box braids?”
“Uh don't worry bout it”
And you would love doing Jinx’s hair since its so long and straight you can do so many styles on it your favorite is braids with clips in it. After finishing eachother hair you would dress in the silliest clothes and just jam out to Jinx’s playlist.
Her family would love you especially her little adopted sister Isha any time she sees you come over she's running to the door with a huge smile on her face waving “hi little Isha” you would wave back you reach into your purse and hand her a oatmeal creme pie cookie you made a few days ago and she giggles grabbing it thanking you and walking off to her room.
Jinx feels at times that you will leave you so she sometimes needs reassurance that you won't ever leave her and that the two of you are end game
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Welp another done with this hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing this and I hope you have good day (and keep requesting stuff) orevwa :). Ⓒ︎ seulszn.
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madamechrissy · 10 hours ago
Text
Keep This Low Key
💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- some Gojo x reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI
💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso has a tongue ring for reasons... oh and a dick piercing for other reasons. In this chapter, teasing, sexual tension, cunnilingus, explicit sex, lots of confusion, jealous angst. Warning- the reader and Choso are with other ppl (just kissing but still) friends w/benefits
💜 Word Count: this chap - 9k
💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?
No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?
✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️
Chapter Two 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜
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Chapter Three
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“What do you mean… you’re… going… fuck you feel s’good.” Choso is moaning in your ear as he’s fucking you, bent over the bathroom sink, his cock pumping inside of you, even with a condom he feels how good and perfect your pussy is, clenching down on him. “On a date with him?”
“Cho… ah!” You scream out, arching your ass up for more of his strokes, the way his piercing hits your g spot makes you incoherent, you’re soaking his length all the way down to his and your thighs, making  a sticky mess. Your eyes catch his expression in the mirror, as fucked out as yours. “S’not a- mmm- date!”
Tattooed, strong biceps wrap around your body, those big hands gripping and squishing your breasts as he shoves his cock in deep, making your eyes roll back, as you begin cumming all over his cock. You both share a moan, Choso is burying his face in your neck, hot breath tickling your ear as he exhales, soft dark hair against your cheek.
He feels so good inside you, so good your knees are weak. You are nearly collapsing, now Choso has to hold you up entirely, fucking into you more, making your tits jiggle with each thrust. “Why… him…”
“Cho… you have… a date too!” You scowl at his reflection now, earning his cute little pout, his brows together.
“But- fuck, pussy is so good - you shouldn’t.”
“Then you- ah - shouldn’t! Just… friends, yeah?” You say softly, hiccuping on your words as he pinches your nipples, twisting them as he pounds your cervix.
“Cum on your best friend’s cock right, then, hmm?” He orders, so demanding and sexy suddenly, and you obey, cumming so hard you’re blinded this time, pulsing all around his cock. Choso moans out, pushing in deep and rocking his hips, turning your face to the side, so that you look at him.
You choke up when his violet eyes hit you, trembling and trying to focus, he’s fuzzy, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, and you taste his sweet breath on yours lips now. You lean forward, kissing him, which is your undoing, it has been the past couple times before this, when you kiss him you can’t pretend, can’t pretend you don’t care he’s going on a date today, and so are you.
You can’t pretend this is how friends behave.
But you can’t ruin what you do have, he feels too fucking perfect inside you, and now he’s throbbing, thickening, you feel him starting to cum hot in his condom, that heat inside your entrance, walls flutterign around it. And fuck if you’re not wishing instead he could bust in you without one. Which is fucking insane, but friends certainly don’t do that, do they?
Choso whimpers against your lips, vulnerable and sweet as he cums, rocking gently now, cupping your face so gently. “You’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful-”
“D-don’t say that.” You manage to whisper, tears pricking your eyes, making him sigh as he kisses you again, still snug inside you, your body pressed against his sink, legs dangling how he has you, has all of you.
“You are, I told you I’ll n-never lie. Your pussy is perfect.” You struggle not to speak your heart, you’ll ruin this, and now that Choso is going on a date, you don’t know how long this will continue.
“You feel good in me too. I love it.” You whisper, before you can think better. Choso eases out then, throwing out the condom after he sets you to stand on wobbly knees, holding onto you.
“I love being inside you. Never felt anything better.” He’s brushing your hair back, and you’re shaking your head. “What’s wrong, angel?”
“Don’t even call me that.” You push at him, pulling up your shorts and yanking down your top, he tries to slide it up, frowning as he kisses on your breasts.
“What, why can’t I? I always have.” He murmurs against your skin, and you tremble at his touch, goosebumps rising before you pull away, looking in the mirror and fixing your hair.
“I just can’t hear it. When’s your date?” He scowls then, something Choso really never does, dark brows low over his eyes.
“When’s yours?.
“Not a date, and I asked you first.”
“That’s different, she’s just some girl and grabbing something to eat. He’s Gojo. You simped over him all of-”
“I know, ugh. It’s just a drink, Cho, to catch up. I’m not a little lovesick girl anymore, you know.” You sigh, putting yourself together, looking in the mirror, avoiding his violet gaze. Your legs are literally still shaking, you can barely collect yourself, breaths coming in little pants.
“And when is the ‘not date’?” He asks again, you look at him, exasperated.
“Cho, we agreed we wouldn’t date seriously again, that’s the point of this, right? Being friends with benefits? So what makes you think I’ll be serious about him.”
“Because he’s always been your fixation.”
“Yes well, we both had them I guess.” You murmur, stepping out of the bathroom then, it’s too small, too overheated. You try to take several breaths to compose yourself, as he follows you.
“If you leave every time we have sex, I’m gonna start worrying.”
“You know you’re amazing at it. I just don’t wanna make it weird.” He pauses you now, tilting your chin up, pressing you against the front door of his home now.
“You can still hang out with me, you know. I missed you.” He whispers, you sigh, nodding then.
“Me too. I have a bit of time before I get ready, do you?”
“I have to practice, but you should come watch, yeah?” You nod then, smiling, you’re overthinking all this, he’s just Cho Bear, right?
You’re his best friend. That’s it.
Best friend who he just…
“I’d love to watch you all. I’ll get ready and come see you all before I go on the… it’s not a date you know.”
He purses his lips. “Mmhmm.”
“And you didn’t answer about yours.” You tap him on the chest playfully, seeing the strong muscles tense as you barely touch him, fingertips trailing up his tattoo slowly, watching his breath catch before you pull away. “Sorry.”
“Please don’t apologize.” He holds your hand now, both of you looking at each other in the quiet of the living room, it’s too fucking intense, you have to pull away, before you say something stupid… “But no, we’re just getting dinner tonight, that’s all really.”
“She’s pretty.” His brows draw together a bit, sighing.
“Gojo’s pretty.” You giggle then.
“You’re pretty, Cho Bear.” You tease, and he leans down now, cupping your face gently.
“You’re beautiful.”
Fuck.
You’re trembling as you hold in so much, how can he be so very casual about saying things like that, about wrecking your resolve. “Beautiful best friend?”
“Mmhmm. Prettiest friend ever.” You smile a bit, feeling your chest tighten, aching to draw his lips to yours. How does adding the physical suddenly make your mind so mushy? “So you’re not going out on this seriously?”
“Not at all, just for… like the hell of it.”
“If he hurts you I’ll kill him.”
“Cho!” He just glares.
His phone rings then, and you use it as your exit, you truly need to breathe, ignore the fact that your pussy is still throbbing from aftershocks of him inside you, ignore the tenderness on your throat from his big hands. You can’t complicate things further with Choso, you currently can’t handle how much he is occupying your every single thought.
When you’re home and getting dressed for later, you can’t help but wonder how you both got into this, well it was your idea. And it was your idea to show up and Choso’s place to fuck him this morning, it’s not as if Choso called you, no you called him and came over, eager for him after a week of not having him at all. You had avoided the shit out of him after that concert.
Seeing him with that girl hurt, especially since he’d just been inside of you, raw too, did that now not mean something? To a girl who always wanted things to be so special, now you wonder at yourself. Because Choso felt special, and Ino had never felt that way, it felt more like what was supposed to happen, it was the progression of a serious relationship.
It didn’t hurt that Choso and Yuki had gotten so close and your friendship was strained, seeing him in that mall ring shopping with Yuji had made you realize just how serious he was for her. You and Ino had talked a bit about future plans but weren’t as far as that.
Choso doesn’t know you saw him, but you did, and any lingering wonders about him that day you had put far behind you. Now, everything has shifted and changed, you’re running out on your best friend after his cock is inside you, purely because you don’t know what will spill out of your mouth.
“Baby girl, you’re dickmatized.” Your best friend says now on video chat, Utahime. You sigh, smiling at her, pretty brunette and sassy as fuck. “How the fuck are you gonna go out with Gojo though!?”
“You just hate him.”
“Of course I do! Oooh, that outfit. Slay.” You smile and do a little spin in the pretty outfit, it’s chilly today so it’s a tan sweater with black tights and little brown boots. “Add a belt!”
“Of course. Now listen… what do you mean dickmatized? By Cho?”
She lights up a blunt, you jokingly try to grab it from the phone screen, making her snort in laughter. “Yes, by Cho. You absolutely are, look at you.”
“Dickmatized. I’m dickmatized.” You mutter to yourself now, smacking your forehead and sighing. “That’s all it is!”
“When you get good dick, it really fucks your mind up. So first off, you need to make sure that’s all it is, because that boy seemed in love with you.”
“He loved Yuki, ‘Hime.” You slip on a light tan belt, admiring the outfit in the mirror, bending over now to slap on some lip gloss.
“He definitely was down bad for her. But Gojo in response!? Really.”
“I may have seen Cho with a pretty blond girl before I said yes.”
Utahime sighs at that, shaking her head, pretty black locks falling as she leans forward. “Feelings from just a couple dick sessions? God help you.”
You glare now. “Bye!”
“Bitch… sorry.” You snort and roll your eyes. “Don’t fuck Gojo for the love of all that is good. Who knows what he’s got, he’s a hoe.”
“Don’t I know it. But… I mean I’m literally fucking my friend. Can I judge currently?” She sighs, hitting her blunt as you pick back up the phone.
“Trust me you’re a long way from him. You know, I love Choso, I really do, but be careful. He falls fast and hard, don’t wanna accidentally hurt him.” You nod now, smiling into the phone.
“I agree. Ugh, I miss you! Come back home soon.”
“I will be home next week, let me enjoy my vacay. Horny ass.” You glare and she laughs at you. “What I can’t joke, you were always such a good girl.”
“I know I’m corrupted.”
“Dickmatized.”
“That. All right, love you!”
“Love you too. Don’t fuck Gojo.”
“Jesus.” You hang up the phone, and none other than Satoru Gojjo is texting you, your heart does still do that little high school jump, despite the shit memories.
‘Gojo I… what do you mean? What did I do wrong?’ you’d had tears in your eyes as you had asked the question, dancing with Satoru Gojo at prom finally. He looks down at you with cold, crystal blue eyes, ones you could stare into forever.
‘You want things so serious, and I just am interested in fun. It’s nothing personal, sweets.’
‘I can be fun!’ You pout and he smirks a bit, like the charming jerk he could be, his big hand pressing your back, against his chest. You immediately get flustered, and he’s chuckling.
‘You’re a good girl. It’s cute but not my thing. I plan on having a pretty fun prom night, if you catch me?’ he looks over to the several girls, cheerleaders of course it was what he usually went for, not shy girls like you with your nose in a book. It had been some miracle he’d ever noticed you.
‘I… Gojo we can… um…’ Your heart races as he finishes the dance, leaning over and pressing his lips against yours, when he tries to deepen the kiss, hands slipping down to your ass, you tense a bit, so nervous. ‘I just need a little time is all!’
‘You keep being a cute little virgin, it’s all good. Thanks for the dance.’ You’re trembling now, feeling sobs choke you up, he raises a thin brow. ‘You crying?’
‘N-no. I… Gojo, please…’ Gojo leaves then, arms around two of the girls, throwing you an arrogant peace sign, you’re alone in the middle of the dance floor, everyone watching you, whispering about you.
Suddenly you’re in his arms, Choso’s arms, he’s pulling you against him, swaying side to side, and you blink and look up at him. He’d opted to wear a black band shirt under a suit jacket, his hair spiked up in places, choker on his neck. He’s still your best friend Choso, even at a formal prom.
‘You don’t have to, people are making fun of me.’ You whisper, voice breaking in the middle, Choso frowns then.
‘You’re my best friend, and no one gets to make fun of you. What happened?’ You ease in his hold, a hand on his shoulder, the neon lights of spinning disco balls illuminating his handsome face.
Handsome.
Choso was handsome.
But, he was only your friend.
And your best friend, right?
‘He broke up with me.’
‘On the dance floor!? At prom!?’
‘Because I’m too… I’m not fun, Cho.’ He spins you then, frowning.
‘I think you’re fun.’
You feel your cheeks heating up embarrassingly. ‘I’m not fun, Cho, not like he wants.’
Choso blinks, glaring now. ‘So because you won’t fuck him so soon he’s leaving you? What kind of dude does that?’
‘I tensed when we kissed, I didn’t go far enough-’
‘Shh.’ He holds you against his chest now, your arms are around his neck, you’re feeling so safe, hiding your emotions against his black jacket. ‘Don’t change for anyone, you’re perfect the way you are.’
You shake yourself out of your reverie as you pull up at Choso’s home, hearing the music blaring from the garage already. Satoru Gojo had truly been terrible back in high school, it was a mean thing to do, and Choso had come to your rescue. But… he’d done it because of your bond, how do you go and ruin that?
“Dickmatized.” You murmur again, walking in the garage now, Megumi smiles a bit at you, waving, but Yuji runs up and hugs you like a happy puppy.
“Hey! You’re here!” You laugh a bit as he picks you up and spins you.
“Holy… you got strong, what happened?” He holds a well toned bicep out and flexes, grinning, you just laugh at how sweet he is. “Working out?”
“All the time! My muscles are almost as big as Choso’s.” You smile as Chose walks back in, seeing you and smiling, licking his lower lip, you damn near overheat when you see that ball on the barbell of his ring, remembering the insane things he did last week with it.
You’d been so eager this morning you’d told him to just fuck you, and you’d been soaking wet before he touched you, that’s how stupid your body was reacting. You’d kissed him and throbbed, eagerly stripping him until you all somehow ended up in his bathroom, you’re still not sure how, you’d been too entranced in all of his kisses, his touches.
“Hey angel, you came.” He says with a smile, coming to hug you now, fuck even his hugs get you, his scent…
Dickmatized.
“Of course I did, lemme see what you all got.”
“A challenge.” Megumi says, swirling his drumsticks, and Yuji is bouncing up at the chance to impress you, you barely can look Choso in the damn eyes, so intense, not knowing how to just act normal. You needed to.
You sit now and watch them as they start the set, listening to the beat of the drums, the bass from the guitar, and Choso’s smooth as silk voice. His long fingers with those painted black nails wrap the mic, and he starts singing lyrics you’ve heard a ton of times, but for some reason it’s as if he’s singing them to you.
You’re feeling like some dumb high school girl again, and that was years ago, gosh almost six years since that prom night. When you finally stopped being such a lovesick fool. But you can’t stop your heart from racing, your eyes from trailing down Choso’s long torso in this tight black shirt of his, that shows his rippling biceps and veiny forearms.
Arms that had you bent over a bathroom sink this morning.
Stop that.
The music wraps around you in the garage, you’re focusing on it now, focusing on the three of them. Choso is the best older brother in the whole fucking world, taking care of Yuji as he had, and you love to see them interact, Yuji’s adorable infectious grin shining out from a serious, focused Megumi, and an intense Choso. You know all the words to the songs, singing along silently, so as not to overtake Choso.
You have heard them play a hundred times, but they’ve never felt like this before, those lyrics Choso wrote, surely about Yuki.
And all I see when I close my eyes is you.
Choso’s eyes keep catching yours and you can’t stop the tightening in your tummy, while you mouth the words with him. Yuki, surely. Couldn’t be you, this was a song from months ago. So don’t be so stupid, so foolish, don’t think that you’re suddenly in his heart because he fucks you.
You suck at this.
You watch him, his hand moving over the strings of the guitar slung over his chest, along with Yuji now, hips swaying with a grace that’s almost mesmerizing, his eyes closed in concentration, those long lashes fluttered shut. You see the sweat dripping from his brow just so, making his neck glimmer with the thin sheen as he leans closer to sing again.
Like a jolt to the heart.
There’s a jolt in your entire body as you keep watching him, trying to also focus on Megs and Yuji so you weren’t so fucking obvious, but the way Choso’s body  is swaying with the rhythm makes you damn near drool. You start to feel your heart race faster along with every beat and every word, and you’re pretending it’s the music or the way he’s looking at you.
You’re up and dancing now to the beat, they all smile as they play and watch you, you’re letting it pick up your hips and move you, moving to the rhythm. Megumi’s drumming is like a heartbeat, steady and strong, driving the song forward. Yuji’s playing is more intense than ever, as if he’s trying to outdo Choso in some unspoken competition.
But Choso…
Choso opens his eyes again, looking directly at you. You hold your breath, feeling like the entire world has stopped spinning for just a moment as he finishes the lyrics.
And I fall for you. Over and over again.
The music dies down, and the garage is filled with the sound of your own racing heart thrumming in your ears, for a moment you’re so entranced by his violet eyes and those words you just stand there. You clear your throat then, jumping up and down and clapping as they all smile.
“It was great, guys. Really. Oh my god you’re gonna kill the next show!” You say then, and they are beaming now, especially Yuji, who comes up and hugs you again, you notice Choso glaring just a bit.
Confusing.
“You’ll be at the next show right?” Megumi asks you now, you nod then, earning a little quirk of his lips as he fixes up the spiky black hair of his. “Good.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I told Cho I never missed one, I just had to hide because… well Yuki hated me.” Yuji rolls his eyes, and Choso tenses as they put up their instruments.
“She was so mean.” Yuji says. “I’m glad we didn’t buy a ring.”
“Yuji…” Choso starts, but you smile.
“For the best maybe?”
Choso nods, no need for you to say that fucking Ino was partially because you watched that shopping trip happen. Now you know he didn’t buy one but…
Choso’s phone starts dinging and he peers at it. “The date?” Yuji asks.
“Not a date, I don’t want to date any time soon. Just grabbing a bite with a big fan is all.”
“Uh huh sure.” Choso scoffs, shoving at Yuji, as your own phone goes off, and Satoru’s name pops up.
Jock Gojo: (You’re not sorry for this name in your phone btw) I’m heading in twenty, sweets.
You: I’ll head that way.
Jock Gojo: Sounds good.
“I have to head out, you all. Thanks so much for showing me your music, you know I am proud of you all.” Megumi shyly smiles and Yuji beams, but Choso’s mouth is stern as he looks down at your phone curiously.
“Let me walk you to your car.” Choso says, you wave at the boys as he leads you over, you inhale the fresh air, trying to let the breeze cool you down, you’re overheated when Choso is standing so close to you.
You tuck your hair behind your ear nervously, Choso takes in your outfit now, hands gently brushing down the soft knit of your sweater. “Do you like it? It’s cool enough to wear now.”
“It’s pretty on you. But you always look pretty.” You bite on your lip now, unable to look at him, just watching his hand against your sleeve as it traces it, the tattooed hand that could wrap your throat so easy.
“Thanks, Cho Bear.” You playfully nudge him, and he clears his throat, smiling down at you, as if coming out of his own thoughts.
“Just a drink huh?”
“Yeah. Not a whole dinner like you, Casanova.”
Choso scoffs, leaning against your car, crossing his arms. “It’s literally a bite to eat, nothing fancy. I wouldn’t have said yes if you hadn’t told me to go ‘have fun’. I took it as you…”
“You seemed to be having a lot of fun.” He blinks then and you sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“After we hooked up at the club, well I came to find you, to apologize for being so weird about this. And…”
“Shit.” He exhales, hand on his face now.
“No, it’s cool. I just… I mean we just had… and like raw even? And it was so weird to me, to see you with someone immediately-”
“I’m so-”
“No, no it’s fine. Swear. It is just my preconceived notions of what sex was supposed to be. I am glad you had fun, and I hope you have a lot of fun with her.” Choso’s eyes are serious, mouth in a stern line when you gently put your hand on his shoulder.
“That hurt your feelings, stop lying.” You gulp, shaking your head. “You think after being best friends for ten years I don’t know you?”
“But it shouldn’t have.”
“But it did.”
You feel him looking right through you, calling you the fuck out. You shake your head now, heading to the driver's side door, bending to open it up, but he’s right against your back, you feel his entire body hard and strong, so tall he takes you over, his hands braced right on the hood of your car as he does. You feel his breath against your cheek as he bends down low.
“Cho what are you doing?” You whisper, looking back at him, he’s too close, so close you can’t think, a hand slipping up your waist now, reaching around to splay the expanse of it over your sweater.
“I’m sorry that hurt you, you don’t deserve to be hurt. I swear I was just upset because you ran and…”
“It’s okay I’ll never be mad at you.”
“Promise?” You nod and he exhales, his lips far too close. “If I said what’s on my mind you’d be mad.”
“What is it? Annoyed about Gojo?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Nothing you say would make me mad at you. You’re the sweetest friend in the world.”
“Am I so sweet?” Choso’s hand presses against your tummy as his lips press against the shell of your ear, making you tremble. “Thinking of how I’d love to pump cum in your pussy before you go out with him.”
You gasp, his words talking right to your damn pussy, you feel him pressing more and imagine him there so deep. “You…”
“Dripping my cum all night.” His hand lowers, barely brushing against the hood of your clit over your tights. You’re shaking so much your knees are almost knocking together, ass arching up, feeling his strong thighs against it.
“You don’t mean that.” You say softly, earning his quiet laugh, he ghosts his fingers over your clit, before letting you go, and you exhale, looking at him incredulously now. “You’re what… kidding?”
“You think I’m kidding?”
“It’s not like you Cho!”
“Do you really know me all the way?” He asks, and you bite your lip again, turning to look up at him, the car now cold against your back. He gently takes your lower lip out of your teeth’s grip, thumb brushing over the indentations.
“I know you like the back of my hand. I thought so at least. You can’t say things like that, they confuse me.”
“What’s confusing? Me cumming inside you?” He leans forward, cold metal necklace brushing on your exposed collarbone, he’s tilting your chin up, you’re lost in the violet depths of his eyes, as the lights are setting outside, the night descending, encapsulating everything in pinks and purples.
“We said it was too intimate.”
“Maybe I want-” Your phone goes off again, you glance at it, watching his jaw lock now. “Gotta go?”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“Yeah.” He exhales, backing away now, just in time for Yuji to run out, waving goodbye. Choso closes your door, and you gulp down the horrible feelings as you drive off.
What the fuck was that.
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Satoru Gojo whistles as you enter the martini bar, you smile a bit and roll your eyes, he’s in a fancy expensive ass dress shirt and slacks, looking like a million bucks, you feel just a little underdressed. You nervously look down at your outfit, as his icy blue eyes follow. “You look good, fuck.”
“I’d have dressed up more if I knew you were.” He takes you by the hand, letting you do a spin, whistling and earning your flushed cheeks.
“No, the sweater dress is cute as fuck. I just like to dress up everywhere, literally go to the gas station like this.” He grins, a flash of white teeth.
“Prissy ass.” You tease, and he laughs, still holding your hand in his, and fuck Gojo’s fingers were long, ridiculously huge, taking yours over completely. You look down nervously, so curious about him then.
“Thanks for coming, I thought you’d blow me off.”
“I should have. Pulled a prom.”
His mouth forms an O, brows knitting together. “Ouch. Sit, sit.”
You sit next to him, and he holds up two fingers, getting one of the waitresses' attention. She fawns over him, and he’s winking at her, looking at her name tag lazily. “Can I get two martinis for us please? Oh and some of that famous cake.”
“Coming right away Mr. Gojo!” She runs off and you expect Gojo to stare at her ass honestly, but he doesn’t, he leans back in his seat, an arm around your shoulders casually, you inhale that extravagant cologne of his as you lean in a bit.
“You still wear the same scent.” You say, before you curse yourself.
“You remember that?” He asks, a brow raised, you nod a bit. “Huh. Yeah, I have always worn it, that’s true. Ya like it?”
He’s wiggling his brows now, with a big ass grin. “It smells good, yeah, I guess.”
“You guess. Well, you smell good too, sweet. Like cupcakes.”
You can’t stop your giggle. “Cupcakes!”
“Mmm, my favorite. Vanilla.”
“Well I’m not vanilla.”
“No?” You’re heating up again, ignoring his smirk with a little glare, taking the drinks the waitress hands, she also hands Satoru her number.
You can’t blame her, there was a time you were obsessed with him. You still feel a bit of the butterflies, especially at the proximity you two were in, but you know also what you’re feeling for Choso is intense. And it’s something you shouldn’t be feeling, or even thinking about truly.
I wanna cum inside you
What the ever loving fuck was that!?
“So how have you been? What work do you do?” Satoru asks, and you smile a bit then.
“I actually do admin work.”
“Boring.”
“Very.” You giggle then. “Your work is boring too.”
“Sure the fuck is. But I tend to find my own fun.” He’s sipping his martini, crossing his legs now, fingertips slipping down where your sweater slides off one shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Banging assistants on your desk?” You quip.
“How’d you know? Want a new job?”
“Oh god.” You can’t help your laugh as he’s chuckling, sipping on your martini, exhaling a bit. “Mmm, yummy.”
“They have the best ones here. Ooh, look cake.” Satoru always loved sweets, you have no clue how he’s so slender when you used to watch him eat cookies and donuts by the dozen. Another waitress brings over a big piece of chocolate cake, decadent and fluffy.
“Okay it does look good.” Satoru picks up a fork now, handing you a little bite, you lean close and take it off the fork, licking your lip and shutting your eyes with a little moan.
“Damn, what do you sound like cumming if you sound like that from biting some cake?”
“Oh god, really Gojo!” You shove at him now, and he’s eyeing your lips hungrily, you nervously lick them again, earning his exhale. “Just because I’m not a goody goody doesn’t mean I’ll put out you know.”
“I didn’t ask that, you’re thinking about it.”
“Sure am not.” You take another sip now.
“Bad breakup, yeah?”
“Yeah it was shit. I kind of… well I kind of have a friend with benefits now, you should know that I guess?”
“Freaky hmm.” You shake your head at him, he just sips his drink, stirring the little cherry in it slowly. “I don’t care about that, I have a few regulars, until I date seriously again I mean.”
“You date seriously now?”
“I had a year-long relationship, it kind of… ended shitty. So I guess I’ve been avoiding commitment.” You tilt your head a bit, studying his pretty face.
“You seem more genuine than before.”
“Teenage Gojo was a little shit for sure.”
“Yep.”
“Hey!” Now he’s laughing, and fuck he’s charming, running his hand through his silky white hair and leaning closer. “I should apologize.”
“Yeah, that was shitty.” The wound has long healed, but remembering what happened hurt, especially the pathetic way you still tried to be with him, even after all of it. “I wasn’t popular like you.”
“No, you weren’t but you were sweet, and funny. And smart.”
“Ah… thanks Gojo.” His hand rests on your thigh over the thin black tights you’re wearing, and you don’t smack him off, but you tense just a bit.
“Can you forgive jock Gojo?” He pouts pretty pink lips.
“I can forgive jock Gojo.” He exhales, eyeing your drink now.
“Want another?”
“Um…” You wonder what’s holding you back, from the guy you’d been literally in love with years back, handsome and funny and much more mature Gojo.
Choso inside of you that’s what.
Choso’s big hands on your hips, the way he kissed you, the things you’d felt from them, since when did kissing make you soaked? But was it just him being so sweet and sexy, giving and talented? Was it because you were so comfortable with him, even showing your body?
Ino just never felt anything more than sweet or nice, but you have a severe lack of experience.
“I’ll take another, thank you.” You say softly, he orders two more, nibbling on the cake, frosting on his perfect pale skin. You thumb it off carefully, and he laps it off your finger then, smirking at your little gasp.
“You’re cute.”
“Cute huh?”
“Cute. Little reactions, so easy to read. You always were, but I guess my idiot ass wasn’t reading then.”
“You were just fucking all the cheerleading team.”
“Of every school.” He winks and your eyes roll back. “Just kidding, only the surrounding schools.”
“Oh gosh.” Satoru takes his cherry then, popping it between his lips, blue eyes filled with mischief as he peers at you. “What?”
“Nothing, just thinking how I didn’t get your cherry.”
“Oh jesus. You talk too much, you know. Thank you.” You say to the waitress as she hands you another glass. She also hands Satoru her number. “Is this everywhere you go?”
“Yeah. Kinda always has been like this. Lemme eat your cherry.”
“Everything you say sounds so pervy.” You hand him your cherry then, he takes it between his teeth, snowy lashes lowering, and you feel your body heat up then.
Satoru’s leaning down just a bit, taking your chin between his thumb and finger then, leaning low. “You’re so pretty tonight.”
“Oh… thank you Gojo.” You catch sight of it then, of Choso Kamo out the window on the bustling street in the evening, and the pretty blond in his arms.
You gulp now, pulling away with a breath. “No kiss huh? Still mad at Jock Gojo are you.”
“Um… no I… I have to go to the ladies room. I’ll be back?” He nods then, poking around on his phone, snapping pics for his Insta, which was of course stupidly popular and had been.
You walk past the window, surely you’re mistaken?
But who else has spiky black fucking pigtails.
He’s grinning too, as she’s leaning up, her arms around his neck, and you feel sick to your fucking stomach when he kisses her. Sure it’s just a kiss, right, and you don’t date him, and you shouldn’t care. That’s the point of it all, to not care, but why does it feel like someone’s punching you in your gut as he cups her face with his fucking hand!?
Fuck it brings tears to your eyes, they pull away and he looks all shy and fucking adorable, you quickly walk to the bathroom before he peers in the window and sees you, running into it and unable to stop your tears. The alcohol from the martinis is hitting just a bit, and you’re already overwhelmed from memories of Gojo, from what Choso’s doing to your mind.
You take several breaths, getting angry now, how can he say things like he did, look at you like he did, and do that!?
Yeah, you’re on a date too, aren’t you?
You’re not with Choso. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, and just a week or so ago, you were only friends. Only ever. You watched him date, healed his heartbreaks, held him when he cried. And so did he, eating ice cream and crying together, falling asleep watching movies. Friends, the best.
You were ruining it, by your emotions, he seemed perfectly able to just do whatever and be unaffected, no this was a you problem. Dickmatized, was it true, was that all this was? Was it just getting off with a dude for the first time, and the care you have confused you?
You’re touching up your makeup, peering at the mirror, struggling to pull yourself together. Why did it hurt so bad… why did him cupping her face make you so sick… you can’t let it happen, let it get to you. This is what you both agreed on, and he clearly took it a lot further than you had planned him to. Maybe you don’t mean anything to Choso at all, maybe he just does this because it’s convenient.
Because he wants to get over Yuki.
Your hands tremble then, you pull out your phone, and message him.
You: Hope your date is going great.
You want to say so much more, but you can’t, it’s not your place. Choso looks at the message, and your heart falters, but he doesn’t respond. You shake your head, closing your eyes again, pulling yourself together as you realize what a fool you have been, fixing up your lip gloss and then heading back to Satoru, who smiles up at you, having finished the cake clearly.
“Sorry sweets, I can get more.”
“I’m not hungry, it’s fine.” You stand there for a moment, Satoru yanks you down on his lap, making you gasp as you land on his leg.
“Maybe I’m still hungry.” You go to scooch back over onto the bench, but then you think about it.
Should you turn this down? Choso literally was kissing in the middle of the streets, and not even someone he knew, maybe he was so hurt he was becoming something he didn’t want to. A hoe era, spurred on all by you, a peek at your phone with no notifications from him.
“Not here, Satoru.”
“Satoru, huh?” You flush at his bright blue gaze, his big hand burning against your thigh again, making your hips shift in your seat.
“You seem different. Like you grew up. A bit.”
“Just a little. And why not here? Wanna go home with me? So slutty.” He whispers.
“Oh never mind. I didn’t say all that. Get me some more cake.”
He grins now, ordering another piece, and you genuinely open up to each other and laughing about school days, Satoru snaps a picture of you for his Insta and tags it hanging with old friends. You laugh a lot, and enjoy his goofy ass attitude, you can’t help it, he’s always been charming and now he’s much less of an ass than he was.
But you peer at your phone now and then, you and Satoru have spent an hour here, now he’s walking you to your car, you’re shivering a bit at the chill in the air, so he’s rubbing your arms, stepping closer. He bends low, those snowy lashes hovering over his cerulean gaze, intoxicating in the chilled night, so chilled you see puffs of his breath like little smoky clouds.
“I had fun, thank you for this.” You say softly, his lips turn up on one corner, fingers brushing across your jaw.
“I should thank you, fuck I was a shit to you. You deserved a lot better than being left on a dance floor.”
“It’s forgiven, you were young…”
“Still. I’d like to do this again?”
You nod shyly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He’s leaning down further, lips just a breath away, and you exhale then, visions of Choso swirling in your addled mind, but also Satoru smells good, he feels good against you, his big hands pressing into your waist. You feel yourself trembling in his hold, curiosity and hurt mixing with old feelings.
“I’d like that too.” You brush silky hair back, and he leans forward then, pressing his lips against yours, you feel them warm and plush, your arms lean up as he presses you closer, tongue darting in your mouth, swirling. You gasp and he pushes it further, bringing you against his hard, lithe body.
You feel guilty though, and how!? You aren’t with him, he hasn’t asked you out, he’s with someone… but something feels wrong. Like you’re cheating on him in some way when it’s impossible to, so you shove all of it back and let Satoru Gojo kiss you, and you kiss him back. He’s expert at it, devouring your mouth, a breathy cry from the back of your throat escapes.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, hands slipping down the sides of your breasts, making your nipples perk up, you feel your tummy clenching with desire for him, it’s not that insane need like Choso, but Choso isn’t really yours, and it feels good, his hard thigh between your thighs now, pressing up. “You’re so hot.”
“You could have done this on prom, you ass.” You tease, and he laughs softly, hands grabbing your ass and exhaling.
“This ass… you didn’t have this.”
“Oh that’s why!”
He grins. “Shut up, you’re bratty. Let me…” He is kissing down your throat now, and your head falls back, grinding on his thigh, earning his hiss against your ear, you’re clinging to his expensive dress shirt, getting wet against him. “Mmm I’ve been missing out, haven’t I?”
“Maybe… ngh!” Satoru bites your neck, sucking now, your eyes roll back, forgetting you’re in a fucking parking lot of a fancy bar, forgetting the hurt of your feelings from not just your ex Ino’s rejection, and seemingly Choso’s.
Your hands run down his hard body, feeling his well toned muscles under your touch flex, sliding under his shirt to feel his hot skin. “Come over.”
“Satoru I told you I…”
“I don’t care if you’re fucking someone.” You blink in surprise, he’s cupping your face, watching your face as he presses further. “Lemme get you off.”
“Not… not yet. I feel like I’m a little tipsy and the break up…”
“You’re missing out, you know how long these fingers are?” He wiggles them, making you snort in laughter.
“I’m sure it’s great but I’m not so easy. We’ll see if you’re serious hmm?”
“Then you’re going out with me again.”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.” Satoru’s brows are raised, his hand slipping down your tummy, slipping up your sweater.
“You are.” He kisses you once more, fuck it feels good, you find yourself losing it in Satoru’s hold, crying out softly when he finds your pussy over your tights, he presses up and you stop him, despite your pussy throbbing. You can’t do it… “Was just gonna rub it, not gonna fuck you in the parking lot. Well…”
“I’m saying good night, Gojo.” You shake your head and pull his hand off, he surprises you by kissing it before kissing your lips once more. You wonder at his motivation, is he really that different? But you kiss his hand too, smiling now as he steps back and takes a breath.
“Good night, pretty. Text me when you’re free again?” You nod, smiling as he throws that peace sign at you, before slumping against your car for a moment, feeling so off, so… odd.
You check your phone, and see Choso’s snap with his meal, after you had texted him, you hate how much something small like that hurts already. You slide into your car and head home, for some reason tears forming in your eyes. Are you really going to be pining away for someone you can’t really have, or don’t have again? Is this just what you constantly do?
You’re sobbing by the time you get home, damn near hiccuping at how upset you are, yanking off your heels and belt as you walk in. You keep checking your phone like an idiot, Choso had never ignored a text, even when he was with Yuki, was he just done with your emotional responses to sex? Should you try to make sure you’re much less involved!?
“I suck at this. I suck at everything.” Your shoulders are shaking as you cry into your hands, which shake violently, until you flop down on the bed.
You can’t do this with Choso, it’s already fucking you up.
You call him then, and no answer, making you scoff, throwing it across the room, continuing to cry. This wasn’t dick like Utahime said, you felt something so intimate while fucking Choso it’s insane, like he just got you, like he could see in your entire fucking soul. What was it?
You take a shower, and eventually check your phone again, Satoru has messaged you, odd that Satoru somehow could write you back, but Choso couldn’t whatsoever. You crack open a beer and down it quickly, aching to get your mind off your best friend, why can’t you just be casual?
Jock Gojo: Need a pic of you. For reasons.
You snort at that, rolling your eyes.
You: You wish.
Jock Gojo: not naked if you don’t want… I mean… I want but…
You say fuck it and snap a pic which he hearts, just you in your pajamas with a little filter because you’ve been crying.
Jock Gojo: Fuck you’re sexy.
You feel yourself heat up at his words, sending another with the strap slid off your shoulder, then Satoru sends his abs which, damn they were sexy, cut and defined. You’re biting your lip, shifting a bit, turning on your tummy now as you stare at the screen and sigh.
You: You’re hot but you know it.
Jock Gojo: It’s still nice to hear ;) Bet you’re wet again.
You: Whatever! Good night, Gojo.
Jock Gojo: Masturbate to me <3
You roll your eyes and laugh, he sure the fuck is hilarious, this was your dream in high school, and he’s not even being a dick, he genuinely seems better. You should be excited. Not crying. You start to nod off when the phone rings, you almost don’t wanna answer it, but you do, taking a breath as you hear his voice.
“I’m so sorry! I thought I responded to your text, then the phone was in my car when you called. Is everything okay!?”
“It went great. Shouldn’t have called.”
Choso pauses then, silence on the phone. “What’s wrong.”
“Nothing!” You sit up in the bed, hugging a pillow to you, the emotion back in your eyes now. “It was rude of me.”
“What, no? It’s rude of me that I didn’t remember to hit send. Please, you can always write to me.”
“Yeah… Well good night Cho, I’m tired.”
“Something’s wrong, I’m coming over.”
You scoff then. “Coming to fuck me after your date horned you up?”
“What!? What? How can you say that!” You hear the pain in his voice, and you hate yourself. “We’re talking about this face to face.”
“I can’t face you right now. I can’t.”
“Did he hurt you? Was he mean? Was-”
“He was great and I had fun. Okay? Like you.”
“Like me? How…”
“I saw you kissing her right in front of the bar.” Choso’s quiet then, and you sniffle, wiping your eyes. “I was just something for you getting over Yuki, this whole thing was stupid.”
“You were not just that. Not at all. I kissed her, yeah but that’s it… I’m on the way.”
“I won’t let you in.”
“You’re my best friend, you damn sure will.” He hangs up then, and you glare at the phone, shaking your head at him, before you can think he’s knocking on your door, you answer it with a scowl.
Choso scowls right back, leather jacket on him, his hair in those sexy spiky fucking pigtails, ones you wanna yank him by, to kiss him, to cum all over his face again. It’s all you can think about, him on you, him in you, like some stupid fucking drug that’s ruined you. He’s heaving breaths as you are.
“Let me in?”
“Fine. For a minute.” You shut the door behind him then, and he bends down, pressing your back against your door, barring you with his arms. You feel your pulse quicken as he studies you, far, far too close. “What?”
“Why are you crying?” He cups your face, it’s too sweet, it’s too much. You just shake your head, looking down as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Are you upset I kissed her?”
“No! Why would I be? You’re not mine.” You choke on the fucking words, Choso exhales, leaning closer, head resting on yours.
“Speak your mind. If I hurt you I’m sorry, I promise it was just a kiss, I told you if I did more I’d let you know.”
“Well I kissed Gojo so what do I care?” He pulls back now, glaring at you, violet eyes glinting in your dark living room. “What? Only you can?”
“You kissed Gojo?” You just nod, and his dark brows are low over his eyes, brushing a thumb over your lower lip gently.
“I only kissed him.”
“I didn’t question you, I never would. I know you’d tell me. So you should know that I’d tell you.”
You nod then, feeling so ashamed of your emotions. “I promised no feelings and I suck at it. I got jealous though I shouldn’t.”
“Jealous of what? Look at you.”
“Don’t say that!” You shove at his hard chest, eyes locking with his now. “We’re still friends with benefits then? Nothing serious yet with her?”
You’re so stupid.
But you want him.
Is this the only way you can have him?
“Nothing serious, that was the only kiss there was. I hope you brushed your teeth. I don't wanna kiss Gojo.”
You snort then. “You assume I wanna kiss you. Did you brush your teeth?”
“No.” He laughs then, and you do.
“Then no kisses.”
“I’ll kiss something else.” Choso starts kissing down your throat now, and you exhale at the pleasure, losing yourself in his kisses, until he pauses, touching your neck. “A hickey?”
“I… oh. Did he bite me that hard?” You run fingers down your neck curiously, Choso’s furious now. “What? What do you care?”
Choso’s eyes narrow. “Why do you care enough to call me?”
“Oh just go then.” You shove him once more, but his eyes are all lit up now, hand gripping under your chin, wrapping your throat, thrilling you to no end.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer, okay?” He’s apologizing even as his hand is wrapping your throat, tone sweet, his other hand pressing into your hip.
“I forgive you. Now… go if you… Cho!” Choso’s down on his knees right in front of you, slipping your shorts down, looking up at you under his dark lashes.
“Did he kiss you here?” He asks, and you shake your head, hands pulling on the pigtails intriguing you all day.
“Nowhere close. Just my n-neck - mmm!” Choso’s kissing up your inner thigh, as your cunt is pulsing wetness, fuck he ruins you just breathing against it, throwing a thigh over his shoulder now. “D-did you kiss her… there?”
“No, I’ve wanted to taste my really mean best friend all day.” You go to retort, but now his tongue is slipping up your slit, and you’re dripping, pussy aching for him. Choso moans against your pussy, flicking that tongue ring on your clit, you cry out, head smacking on your door now. “Done being mean to me?”
“If I’m done will you stop?” He laughs softly, grabbing your thighs with those strong hands, those calloused fingers.
“I think I have another way to get you back for your attitude, angel.” You blink curiously, but he’s fucking you with his two fingers, curling them inside and pressing, tongue swirling your clit and making you lose it.
“Cho! F-fuck… please…” You’re grinding on his face now, toes curling at the insane pleasure he brings, as he flicks his tongue with his fingers, over and over, making you tremble, so close so quick.
“So yummy. Feel her, she’s ready.” He’s so fucking sexy, scissoring those fingers up into you, sucking your clit in his mouth and humming.
“Cho! Cho oh my- ah- wait…” Suddenly he’s completely gone, right when you’re about to cum on his face, licking his lower lip and sliding your shorts up. You sputter, when he stands, kissing your forehead gently. “What the… Choso…”
“You should trust me, and be honest with me. If you saw me, you should have told me. If it hurts, you tell me. You’re one of the most important people in this world to me, okay?” Your addled brain barely computes, you just stare up at him, dumb. “I’m mad at him too, I’m mad he bit your neck.”
You blink in confusion. “You… why…”
“It’s too pretty to be marked up, especially by him.”
“Choso…” He brushes your pussy with his fingers, making you jolt, craving the friction, he’s so close to your lips you can taste him.
“Want me inside you?” You nod weakly, as he strokes back your hair. “Then you should be nicer.”
“Are you edging me, Choso Kamo!?”
“Hmm.” He smirks then, kissing your lips, you taste yourself on him, pulling him down to you, but he breaks away, gently holding your face. “Good night.”
“Are you… really now… you’re the one…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re nicer. Mean little angel.” He pecks another kiss on your forehead, leaving then.
Leaving you with an aching pussy and a wrecked mind.
What… the fuck. Do you really know Cho bear that well? Because…
“Fuck.”
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I KNOW it's frustrating. They suck right now lol!! Look forward to your comments <3
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dollishsz · 13 hours ago
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BAKE ME A CAKE HCS ── .✦
a/n: I’ve had like 3 bags of pretzels and tons of water and I’ve got my Spotify playlist going and ready, so I’m so ready to crush this omg 😭, but literally the pretzels were so yum!! (Sea salt) but anyways enough of food but genuinely you guys need to like um request fics and hcs!!
(Tags: batboys x baker!reader)
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BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Admiration and Support: Bruce is genuinely amazed by your skills in the kitchen. He never imagined that someone could be so talented at making intricate cakes and delicate pastries. He’ll often sneak into the kitchen just to watch you work, appreciating the craftsmanship that goes into each creation.
Gifts: On special occasions, Bruce will have high-end ingredients or tools delivered to your door, ensuring you have the best supplies for your baking. He may also commission a cake from you for one of the many Wayne galas.
Late-Night Treats: After a long day, he loves sneaking a piece of your cake or a warm pastry when everyone else is asleep. It’s his secret way of unwinding after patrol, and he sometimes brings it to the Batcave when he's working late.
Baking as a Family Activity: If you’re close to his kids, Bruce loves seeing them get involved. Alfred usually helps with the dishes, but Bruce will occasionally attempt to assist in the baking process—though his attempts usually lead to flour everywhere.
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
The Enthusiastic Taste Tester: Dick is your biggest fan when it comes to your baking. He always asks to taste-test everything you make. You can’t get a batch of cookies or cupcakes past him without him giving an enthusiastic “Are these for me?”
Bakes Together: He absolutely loves baking with you. Even if he’s not the best at it, he loves the experience of spending time together and sharing in the process of creating something beautiful. He’ll add his own “creative” touches (usually involving way too much frosting or sprinkles and like massive diabetes but don’t tell him that😞🙏)
Appreciation: Dick loves showing off your work to his friends and family, boasting about your baking skills. He’ll even tell random strangers about your cakes if the opportunity arises.
Sharing the Love: He loves gifting your baked goods to people. Whether it’s a batch of cookies for the Titans or cupcakes for a charity event, he’s always making sure your delicious treats are shared with others.
JASON TODD ── .✦
The Hidden Sweet Tooth: Jason may come off as tough and gritty, but he has an undeniable soft spot for your baked goods. He’ll act like he doesn’t care, but you’ll often find him sneaking into the kitchen late at night, indulging in the last piece of cake you made.
In the Kitchen With You: Jason’s more of a hands-off kind of guy, but if you ever need help, he’ll step in. He’s not the best baker, but he’ll always try to help you clean up afterward, washing dishes or setting up the ingredients.
Cakes for Special Occasions: Jason secretly loves it when you bake him a special cake for his birthday or some other occasion. He’ll probably act like he’s too tough to care about something so sweet, but he’ll keep a piece of your cake in the fridge to savor later.
Cakes as Comfort: When he's had a rough day, the comfort of your baking is something that instantly calms him. It’s not just the taste but the warmth and care you put into it that makes him feel safe.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
The Perfectionist’s Palate: Tim appreciates the art of baking on a technical level. He’ll analyze every part of your cake, from the texture of the frosting to the way the layers are stacked, and he’ll always give you the most thoughtful and genuine feedback.
Baking Research: Tim loves to try and learn new recipes with you. He’ll spend hours researching the best techniques, finding obscure recipes, and then he’ll be the one to present a new idea for a cake or pastry for you to try together. He has a great appreciation for the science behind baking.
The Baker’s Helper: Tim is a practical person, so he’ll often assist in the more tedious parts of baking—like measuring ingredients, prepping the oven, or organizing everything before you get started.
Decorating Cakes: Tim is a sucker for well-decorated cakes. He’ll admire your artistry, whether it’s intricate fondant work or delicate piping. If you ever need a hand with the decoration, he’ll be there, helping you get the details just right.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Unimpressed at First: Damian might be skeptical at first, having grown up in a more rigid environment. He’ll try to act like he’s not interested in your baking, especially if it’s too “sweet” or “fluffy” for his tastes. But over time, he comes to respect your craft.
A Taste of Perfection: When he finally does try one of your creations, his usually stoic face will break into a small, approving nod. “It’s acceptable,” he’ll say. And that’s his way of telling you that you’ve impressed him.
Incredibly Protective of Your Work: Damian will guard your cakes like they’re priceless treasures. If anyone tries to take the last piece, you’ll find him defending your work with a level of intensity only rivaled by his devotion to his family.
Baking for Special Occasions: He may not show it outwardly, but Damian takes great pride in ensuring that you have the time and space to bake for important events. He’s quietly supportive and makes sure that nothing interferes with your baking process.
AlFRED PENNYWORTH ( IF YOU WERE DATING ANYOF THE BATBOYS ) ── .✦
Your Biggest Supporter: Alfred is the heart of the Batfamily, and he’s often the one who enjoys your baked goods the most. He’ll frequently offer to help you with anything in the kitchen and often provides tips and tricks (he's been making delicious meals for the family for years).
Subtle Compliments: When you bake something particularly spectacular, Alfred will give you a compliment in his typical understated way: “Ah, Miss [Y/N], another masterpiece, I see.” He might even sneak a piece of cake before dinner, though he always acts like it was an accident.
A Baking Partner: Alfred may not be much of a baker himself, but he’ll be happy to assist you in making whatever you need. His love for you is evident in how he’ll quietly encourage you to bake something for a family event or special occasion.
Admiring Your Skills: Alfred will often tell you how much he admires your patience and attention to detail in your work. He loves seeing the joy your creations bring to the rest of the family.
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sevs-corner · 1 day ago
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Tf 141: Price and his marriage problems with you
Angst to comfort 'cause I just can't deal with leavin' it hangin' and being angry at the writer (me) for just endin' it like that Playlist Inspo: Yaur, it ain't a song but a whole ass playlist 'cause we in for a hellavu ride *fire sound effects*
Price just sometimes gets too prideful for his own good, his bravado taking the step forward instinctively when it comes to serious conversations involving you.
Deep down, he always wants what's best for you-- for you and him together as partners.
But that sometimes doesn't get translated in the way you would understand his intent, and this is proven true once again when he comes to learn that you driven home drunk after a night out with your friends.
"You could've gotten hurt."
Price, whenever in an argument with you, would never shout. That to you, speak volumes from the way he positioned himself to a wide legged stance, arms crossed to the way his icy glare seeped into the words coming out of his mouth.
But you've had enough of it.
"Well, you look like you could care less." You huffed out, slamming your front door closed and tossing away your shoes.
"Care less?" He hums, one eyebrow raised as he takes in your disheveled appearance. "Then my texts asking where you were and offering a ride home are just nothing to you?"
"No!"
"Then tell me," he steps closer but you step back. "how does it look like to you?"
This feels like he's cornering you, badgering for an answer he wants to hear and not about how you feel-- but you just can't seem to gather the courage to speak on it, after being denied of such things for so long.
So you bit your lip, backing up so far with your arms wrapped around, that you hit your back on the door-- and you had half a mind to run away from this, from everything, and most of all-
From him.
Price sees the panicked look on your face and feels his hand tucked under his armpit twitch, but his rational brain stops him-- knowing that if he let his inhibitions go right now, he'd see you hurt even more.
"Darlin'," he softly calls out this time, "tell me." But the demand remains the same-- and for a moment this made you believe he'd finally get the point and ask how you feel.
About him. About how this relationship have crumbled into.
"Y'know what John," you scoffed, "you wouldn't understand anyways."
He feels the ire grow from the way his hairs stand on end at your dismissiveness, your unwillingness to give an olive branch and just let him help you.
"Tell me anyways." He insists and you couldn't help how you obviously rolled your eyes at his one insistent dialogue option. Persistent in his ways of getting you to talk.
"And I said," you growled, "you wouldn't understand nor care to anyways!"
"THEN FUCKING MAKE ME!"
He cracks.
You crack.
And something inside both of you does as well.
Like a snap of a cord, the tension in its high rise grow cold.
Silence permeating the area you once found comfort in and called- "home."
Price sees the terror in your eyes and he just fucking knows he fucked up.
Fucked everything up just because he broke first-- snapped too hard at someone who held so dearly, but has now broken himself.
And he's panickily trying to fix it. Fix you. Fix each other.
His deepest nightmare coming into reality, the side of him he tried so hard to keep from you resurfacing, the acknowledgements of his faults getting the better of him as he you stare each other soullessly-- eyes not showing the same spark it did the first time he took you out.
Price knows he gets scary and unreasonable-- its part of his identity and how he deals with the other aspect of his life that he tries so damn hard to keep away from you.
Yet here it is- making its appearance in the worst. fucking. time. possible.
The silence is now broken with a sob coming from you.
You, who is unable to take in the state of the proud John you know and love now look to utterly destroyed from the one sentence leaving his mouth.
And the fact that its now out there, speaking a thousand emotions behind the four words he released in desperation.
You do love him. You love John so much sometimes it hurts to see him hurt you.
You're so damn frustrated with yourself that you can't handle being hurt by the man you love- you feel so pathetic, unable to take his concerns guised in criticism, his messages of tough love behind the formal texts on your phone, his small actions of appreciation from respecting your space and letting you breath after another argument.
"Are we done for John?"
You ask, through hiccups, forcing the matter on hand-- one of which you both desperately avoided for so long.
You wait.
You could hear the air still once again, it taking a chokehold on you, making you more desperate of the deprived oxygen.
You hear him shuffle to you.
The arms you previously wrapped around yourself were now around someone else, a different set now covering your own torso.
"My love," he chokes out, a soft "...Please" is all that he could manage.
"Please what?" You, yourself could barely respond but you knew you had to. He had to as well.
"Don't..." he sighs, head falling onto your shoulder. "...don't say such things."
"Why not?"
He feel him still.
"Tell me John."
He feels your position now. Vulnerable, wounded, and cornered without a choice.
"I'm sorry," he finally says with his chest heavy, "I'm so sorry my love, please."
He grabs your face desperately, hands now cupping your face instead of your waist.
And you could just see- how equally broken this man is.
You never saw Price cry, but that one time he slotted that ring on your finger and finally called you, 'his.'
But this... this is completely different.
From the way his eyes are dilated, not in love, but in genuine distraught. His hands shaky, not in nervousness, but anxiousness. His hands soft, not in care, but of fright.
If this is destroying him, then it did for you too.
Price continues to beg and plead, wiping your tears and dismissing his own. It doesn't matter if he can taste his salty tears and snot-- you just mattered more, and refusing to just stand there and watch you cry.
With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand to his hand softly grabbing it and Price thinks he finally got to you.
But you pull it away.
Instead, you pull in downward and intertwine it with yours, slightly swinging it between you.
"John."
You call out and he opens his ears, replies, anything to get you talking--, "yes my dear?"
"I'm hurt."
He's about to ask why, where, how-- he wants to know everything.
"And I think I'm hurting you... well, more like us."
He shakes his head, disagreeing immediately.
"Darling, no." He fumbles his words, "its me- I'm hurting you, hurting us, and I-."
"No, its my fault."
"No, its mine."
"No, I just sometimes can't take it."
"Then its me! I'm at fault."
But you both insist and it seems endless until you both run out of breath again, yet... your intertwined hands persist. Grip so tight that you wouldn't even think of letting go.
This...makes you laugh, a soft one, and John swear he could hear bells ringing again.
You test it and try to pull away but he doesn't let you.
You giggle again and its infectious that Price couldn't help doing it as well.
"Why..." his chuckles die down but a smile stays painted on his lips, "why were you laughing?"
You shook your head and continue swinging your hands with more energy, "don't know..."
"But," you raised your head- eyes connecting once more, "this is just so silly."
"Silly?" He scoffs, so confused at the how quick the emotions are changing.
"Silly." You insisted but end of sighing, hands slowing down.
"I think," you began with your voice down back to a whisper, "we should be honest and talk."
Price immediately nods in agreement and adds a, "and take a step back?" And he does this literally too, making you chuckle.
Realizing as well at how cold the room has been, contrasting the warmth of your hands.
"yeah..." you mumble and unconsciously reach out for him again. "let's try... again?"
He reaches for you but this time, his grip is soft as if he was ready to let you pull away again.
"Together."
A/N: gonna be makin one for the other boiyos too so... part 1/4? :>> Masterlist for my other works here!
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daisymbin · 2 days ago
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44. "let’s stay up all night talking, just like we used to."
seungkwan and reader have both been very busy lately so they haven’t spent a lot of time together. seungkwan has been sad and needy so he tells reader this ^ and they spend the night catching up and sharing funny stories
love your writing!! thank you so much if you accept this request 🫶🏽
this one is so soft :(( thank you for your kind words love <3
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // boo's m.list
fluff prompt #44: "let's stay up all night talking, just like we used to."
seungkwan flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, his head resting on the armrest as he stared at the ceiling. you glanced at him from the kitchen, your hands still busy drying the last of the dishes.
“what’s with the theatrics?” you asked, walking over to join him.
“i’m starved,” he mumbled.
“you just ate dinner,” you pointed out, sitting down on the floor beside the couch so you could see his face.
“not for food,” he said, his voice softer now. he turned his head to look at you, his expression unusually serious. “for you.”
you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “what do you mean?”
he sat up, his knee brushing yours. “i mean… we’ve both been so busy lately. i feel like i barely see you anymore.”
you sighed, guilt tugging at your chest. it was true—between his packed schedule and your own responsibilities, quality time had been scarce. “i know,” you said quietly. “i miss you too.”
he hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before he spoke again. “then… let’s stay up all night talking, just like we used to.”
your lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.
“remember how we used to do that?” he continued, a small, nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “we’d just sit and talk about anything and everything until the sun came up.”
“of course i remember,” you said, smiling back. “those were some of my favorite nights.”
“so let’s do it again,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “tonight. no phones, no distractions. just us.”
you couldn’t say no to him, not when he was looking at you like that. “okay,” you said softly.
a few hours later, the two of you were curled up on the couch, a pile of blankets thrown haphazardly over your legs. an empty bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table, and the soft hum of a playlist seungkwan had made filled the background.
“do you remember the first time we went to karaoke together?” he asked, his eyes shining with amusement.
“how could i forget?” you replied, laughing. “you sang that one ballad so dramatically that the staff came to check if everything was okay.”
“i was passionate,” he defended, though his cheeks flushed pink.
“you were loud,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
he grinned, leaning back against the cushions. “i don’t regret it. that night was perfect.”
“it was,” you agreed, your smile softening. “you always make things fun.”
“you’re just saying that,” he said, though there was a touch of bashfulness in his tone.
“i’m not,” you insisted. “you’re the most fun person i know. and the most caring. and, honestly, the most dramatic, but in a good way.”
“you’re making me blush,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands.
“good,” you said, laughing as you pulled his hands away.
he looked at you then, his smile fading into something gentler. “i really missed this,” he said quietly.
“me too,” you admitted.
the conversation turned softer after that, slipping into memories and stories you hadn’t shared before. seungkwan told you about a funny mishap during practice, complete with spot-on impressions of the other members, and you shared a ridiculous story about a coworker that had him clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.
time seemed to blur, the hours passing in a haze of laughter, shared snacks, and the occasional yawn.
“what time is it?” you asked eventually, your voice thick with sleep.
seungkwan glanced at the clock. “almost 4am.”
“we’re really stayin up, huh?” you said, smiling despite your tiredness.
“of course,” he said, reaching for your hand. “it’s worth it.”
you laced your fingers through his, your heart swelling at the simple gesture. “you’re worth it,” you said softly.
his eyes softened, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “i’m keeping you up all night more often.”
“i’ll look forward to it,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.
and as the first hints of dawn began to creep through the curtains, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the blankets but rather, from the boy—curled up next to you, talking until the rest of the world faded away.
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twistedcrumbs2 · 3 days ago
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Just an intrusive thought to add to the series of random ideas that strike me throughout the day—this time while working out to the most chaotic playlist you can imagine.
A workout routine with Jack!
Maybe you’ve suddenly found yourself dropped into another world, surrounded by traumatized and slightly unhinged students (or completely unhinged, depending on how you look at it), all while trying to survive the chaos of an insane school semester. Naturally, you’ve barely had any time to care for yourself. Just maybe.
Then, during one of Professor Vargas’ motivational lectures—peppered with lines like “Exercise is essential for self-care! Just look at me!” and “A healthy mind lives in a healthy body!”—a thought crosses your mind: “Alright, one hour of exercise a day won’t kill me… probably.”
To be fair, realizing you can’t even chase Grim around the dorm without gasping for air and nearly collapsing was the final push you needed. Something had to change—and fast.
The problem? You have no idea where to start. After mulling it over, you decide to drop by the athletic club. Watching others train might give you a clue (or, let’s be real, trigger some anxiety—there are a lot of sweaty guys in short shorts, after all).
As soon as you arrive, the first familiar faces you spot are Jack and Deuce, who immediately look at you like you’ve just fallen out of the sky (which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth).
After some chatting, you explain why you’re there. Jack, much to your surprise, seems more excited about your decision than you are.
And let’s be honest—given his physique, it’s no shock that the wolf beastman is the living embodiment of a gym rat. As you ramble about wanting to get into shape, his tail swishes back and forth, his subtle smile betraying just how thrilled he is.
— That’s great. If you need anything, just let me know, — he offers sincerely.
And, of course, you take him up on it. Jack is easily the most dedicated person you know when it comes to fitness, and more importantly, he’s kind enough not to expect something outrageous in return.
But it’s a terrible decision.
Not because Jack is bad at helping—quite the opposite. He’s an incredible instructor: patient, committed, and always willing to lend a hand. The issue is that you were expecting something easy. A casual evening stroll, maybe some jumping jacks. Nope.
Instead, Jack shows up that very weekend with a detailed workout plan, complete with an intimidating ABCD schedule (whatever that means), exercises with weird names, and—worst of all—one hour of cardio every day.
Yes, he genuinely wants you to run for an hour. Every day. You’ve seen him jogging past your window before sunrise, but you never thought you’d be dragged into it too.
To make matters worse, some of the exercises sound downright absurd.
— Bent-over barbell rows? — you ask, staring at the workout sheet like it’s written in an alien language. — Do we need to find a boat for this?
Jack chuckles softly and replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world: — No, just a barbell. I’ll show you.
The first few days are brutal. By 8 PM, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet, and your muscles are so sore that walking through the hallways feels like a challenge. But oddly enough, your mornings start to feel a little more structured. Despite the physical exhaustion, Jack’s company makes everything worth it.
During your sessions, you chat about all sorts of things. He even shares tips on improving your diet—always as gentle suggestions, never pushy.
It’s honestly adorable. Hard to believe this is the same guy who nearly kills you with his workouts.
Of course, there are moments of pure misery. Like the time he introduced you to burpees—an exercise that can only be described as modern-day torture. But in the end, the support and camaraderie you share with Jack turn the grueling routines into something almost… enjoyable. Almost.
Jack seems genuinely excited about your commitment. After all, what gym rat wouldn’t want a workout buddy? But it’s more than that. He enjoys your company and takes pride in helping you improve. He even goes out of his way to ensure you’re safe and don’t overdo it.
When you try to slack off—cut a set short or cheat on your form—he sighs heavily and says firmly: — You’re only cheating yourself, not me.
It’s giving strict dad energy.
Yet, he’s also incredibly perceptive. When you get frustrated or demotivated—like the time you stopped mid-run, gasping for air—Jack slows down and walks beside you, encouraging you to keep going at your own pace.
Beyond the workouts, Jack introduces small healthy habits into your daily routine. He reminds you to carry a water bottle, stretches with you before class, and even brings homemade protein bars. He insists they’re nothing special, but you’re convinced he blushed when you complimented how good they were.
As the days pass, you start to notice small improvements—not just in your stamina but also in how much easier your mornings feel. The group grows, too, with Epel, Sebek, and occasionally Deuce joining in. It’s chaotic but oddly fun.
Training with Jack isn’t just about getting fit. It’s about building a deeper connection with him. Because let’s face it—nothing bonds two people like suffering through a set of crunches at six in the morning, right?
Final verdict: 8/10 experience. Exercising is still a nightmare, but Jack makes it bearable.
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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 day ago
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HAHAHA SORRY, I WAS PUT IN SPANISH BY MISTAKE
Hello, may I ask what it would be like for Wukong to see all his descendants he had with the reader (i.e. his grandchildren) being equally chaotic or worse (sorry for sending too much ^^)
I love family reunions especially with a bunch of immortals monkeys🥳 also don't be sorry
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(Lmk Wukong) The family would come over every year with many kinds of movies for everyone to watch, from action, horror, comedy, animation, sci-fi, live action and even a couple of guilty pleasure kids movies we tend to watch as adults😅. Anyway, Wukong enjoys the food and drinks the kids and grandchildren would bring over even Mk, Mei, and Redson would join the reunion as you both always considered the traffic light trio as family. Wukong would always enjoy the growing love and Chaos of his whole growing family 😊
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(NR Wukong) Having you and your husband's descendants over is always full of love and Chaos. Every family reunion you guys ever had would quickly become a Party Rave that would last for a good week at best. I'm seriously It's no surprise considering Wukong was always found at a club our drinking alcohol, but your kids and grandkids knew how to throw down and they bring their own food and booze along with Playlist and stories. You all would party till the end of the night 🥳 unfortunately you guys Keep Li, Su and the whole city awake at damn week.
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(HIB Wukong) Large Picnic Reunion with all the Monkey King generation. Wukong is always happy to have the family over, especially Luier and Silly girl's own families come over. It's also becomes a large fish fry as many family members would share interesting stories with each other and share tea and other drinks. You always admired your generational family and all your children you had with Wukong, as he would sit and listen to his grand cubs many questions Luier used to ask him all those years ago.
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(MKR Wukong) GLADEATOR THEMED FIGHT ARENA EVERYBODY😈😈😈!!!!!!!! You and Wukong would entertain your relatives by having sparring matches with each other. You cubs would spar each other for fun as well, even some of your grandchildren join the fun, as everyone gets to burn off their aggression and energy. Even fruity would come to greet all of his siblings, i also imagine he would be much bigger, especially knowing how to use his Chi energy better. Either way everyone enjoys each other's company and is always glad to see each other.
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(Netflix Wukong) SPA DAY!!!!!! that's what your reunion is all about. It became a giant sleepover where your whole extended family would sit around and do each others makeup and fur, and gossip about anything and everything in life. Wukong would of course brag about himself to his grandchildren, along to new his in-laws and even to the children you both had together who grew up listening to him talk and tell stories. All jokes aside, Wukong would never have to deal with loneliness ever again as he had you, Lin, dragon king, and his ever so growing family 😊
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(BMW Wukong) Dinner and a show is how you guys spend your family reunion, you guys would rent out a tavern where all of your relatives would come and meet up. You would listen to your husband brag about himself and his achievements to his children and grandchildren for the millionth time considering you guy's ever growing family. You also would have dinner and watch plays with each other and have rice wine together as you enjoy the company of your Humongous growing family.
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(Destined one) You guys would have the world's largest family reunion potluck. Generations of your grandchildren and great grandchildren would come with every type of food know to man, especially if your kids married demons or humans of different cultures. It was always such a blast especially when The destined one gets overwhelmed by his grandchildren adorable mischief, it's one of the only times he truly smiles🥰
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FEEL FREE TO REBLOG
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baronessvonglitter · 1 day ago
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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 20 🍒
"Baby Loves Me"
Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Word count: 8,823 (she's a big'un)
Summary: A blizzard, a wedding, family secrets, and two people who can't stop thinking about each other. Are these fateful events going to drive you apart for good, or bring you even closer together?
(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place a few days before Christmas 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of health issues, oral (m & f receiving), Ellie has anger issues, use of guns for recreational shooting, jealous!Joel, mutual pining, reader wears makeup and dresses, unprotected piv, creampie, TW for minor heart attack and hospitalization (everything is okay in the end), getting back together and having a happily ever after. In this universe everyone is alive and happy.
Author's Note: this series was the first story I ever posted on AO3 and then recently here on tumblr. I had no idea so many people would love it, and it's currently my most liked, most commented-on, and most bookmarked work on AO3 ♥️ It feels so good to finally have this complete, but I will write some one-shots about this couple in the future, because part of me really doesn't want to let them go. Much love to those who stuck around and showed their support while I got this story hammered out. I love and appreciate all of you!
Please enjoy this playlist for your listening pleasure, songs that either appear in the series or provided inspiration
Series Masterlist
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It's early when Joel wakes, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he puts his hand to his heart, eyes scrunched closed tight as he prepares himself for the increasingly painful palpitations. He grunts in suffering at the agony of the erratic pounding of his heart, body tense until it passes, and he sighs with relief, head in his hands as he runs his fingers through his greying locks.
It's been almost a week now that he's had these pains, happening every day now that Sarah's wedding day is nearing. He gets them on and off but lately stress has been catching up to him and reminding him he's not in his thirties anymore. Hell, he'd give anything just to be in his forties again.
He gets up to get a glass of water, quickly throwing on a shirt before going downstairs. The house is quiet though he can see the electric glow of the television light on underneath yours and Ellie's rooms. He hesitates just outside of your room, putting an ear to the door, hoping to catch some tidbit of your voice, some clue as to what you're doing in there, but it's quiet, just the low volume of something playing on TV.
With a sigh he goes down to the kitchen.
Alone with his thoughts, affected by the presence of you and Ellie under his own roof, he takes stock of his life, of all the moments he failed you when he should have been there for you.
That first night he set foot back in Austin after serving time in the Bexar County jail, wondering if he should call you, he'd gone instead to a bar and met Hailey. He didn't recognize her at first, but she'd come on so strong, and the alcohol ran freely that night, so by the time he'd taken her home and her warm, tight little mouth was wrapped around his cock, it was too late. He didn't expect that that one night would lead to her wanting more, but by then you were gone, tucked back safely away in Houston where he couldn't get his hands on you and where you could (he'd hoped) in time forget about him. You were too much of a good girl with too much potential to waste it on someone like him. Hailey was someone who was always going to be stuck in a small town, so he didn't have to worry he was holding her back. But he soon came to realize that all they had between them was fucking. Not that he'd ever minded it in the past, but after having you, experiencing what real love was like, what Hailey offered felt like a cheap replacement, and he just wasn't that man anymore. He knew Sarah hated her, so when he caught Hailey stealing from him he knew that was the last straw and ended things.
Sad to say he went back to his usual routine from before he met you. Working from sunup to sundown, coming home with new aches in his joints to a meal Sarah had had to cook herself, or pizza that had gone cold. On the weekends he'd be at the bar, either with Tommy or more often alone, and he'd find a woman and wind up at her place. He could never bring them back to his, not in his bed that he shared with you.
Seeing you in New Orleans that summer night had been a shock to his system. He thought he'd managed to get over you just a little, but seeing you, a little older than the last time, looking soft and happy and bright-eyed as you laughed with Tommy.. and that fucking rock on your finger that signaled you were taken. Something primeval in him stirred when he ran into you in that restroom hallway, your lips full and glossy from making out with his brother, jealousy surging through him that you'd be so willing to cheat on your husband-to-be with someone other than himself.. it led him to want you more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.
Leaving you the next day had been the hardest thing, but he had to remind himself you were going to belong to another. He couldn't get in the way of that, not when he'd only shown his love for you by fucking you in a bar restroom. You were going to marry a military man and have a respectable life, that was what he wanted for you. To have a life with Joel would only make you sordid, ripe for gossip. He was old enough to be your father and you were in fact his his best friend's daughter. He couldn't sully your life with his mistakes.
On a last minute whim he'd come to your wedding, sat at the very back as you were oblivious to him, staring into your husband's eyes as you spoke your vows, each word a piece of jagged glass in his heart. He'd left before you could see him, driving back to Texas at a high rate of speed, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. Why hadn't he just objected? He could have done it, raised his hand and told the entire congregation that you were his god damn it. He would have led you out, carrying you bridal style, ripped your damn dress off you and fucked you senseless.
It was later that Tommy suggested the dating app. Joel wasn't a fan of technology, and in fact still had his old Nokia phone that Sarah was warning him was becoming obsolete and cajoled him into upgrading to a smartphone. Once she and Tommy had helped him with setting up a profile on eHarmony, the requests piled in. Women from all over the state showed their interest. He had his pick of almost anyone. While he went on a few fruitless dates (some of which actually ended up in sex) there were few that actually interested him.
Until Tess. She was so much like him, and more suited to his age. A divorcee, she knew what she wanted in a relationship and stuck by her values. Beneath her tough exterior Joel found she was actually very kindhearted, even sweet. She cared about animals, liked beer, and was a homebody. She'd resisted his charms at first, but eventually neither could give in to the spark they felt. It took some convincing to get her to marry him. She accepted only on the terms that he move to Boston. She'd visited Texas a few times on business, but she wanted to stay in the northeast, and Joel, in love again for the first time in years, acquiesced.
The problem was they were too much alike. Both wanted to lead, and while he was happy to let Tess have the reigns now and then, it became an issue. This led to more arguments, tense discussions over things that shouldn't have mattered. The divorce, when it finally happened, was a blessing in disguise. Joel followed Tommy away from Boston and found comfort here in Wyoming, in a place he could start anew.
Sarah had been none too subtle when she brought you up in conversation. "Did you know she's a teacher?" "She's single now, divorced actually." "She's in California with her daughter."
Every damn day there was a phone call or a text where you were mentioned. And now, with you here under his roof at Sarah's behest, it was apparent that she was trying to get you two back together again.
He knew he needed to speak with you about that comment you uttered, about "our" daughter Ellie. He'd done the math in his head, just to be safe, and had calculated that he could indeed be her dad. But he had to get the honest answer from you.
It'd be easy if you would at least acknowledge his presence.
Your cold shoulder is more like an arctic icy blast. Your refusal to even meet his eye is like an arrow through his heart. He wishes that you would at least glare at him, or say something sarcastic or hurtful, but your silence is the coldest thing, even with the blizzard outside.
He's hopeful during one moment the next morning, as he's going into the hall restroom while you're coming out. Freshly showered, you're wearing a towel around your body, skin glowing, hair combed back and damp. The steam that surrounds you from your hot shower makes you look like a figure from a movie, an ethereal angel come to earth. His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your beautiful eyes wide and plush lips parted. Then you resume your coldness, pulling your towel tighter around you as you go to your room. When he steps in he smells the jasmine aroma of your body wash still in the air around him his dick hardens in response.
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Hearing that Sofia has arrived is the one bright spot in your time here.
You meet her at the Tipsy Bison after everyone has helped out shoveling snow off the path. You'd found yourself working next to Joel and said nothing to him, ignoring his silent appeal for you to talk to him.
Now the crew is indulging in some food and beer at the bar while you catch up with your cousin.
"How did you get in? I thought the roads were impassable," you tell her after a big hug and an introduction to her fiancee Ruby. It had come as a surprise to you when she'd told you she was marrying a woman, but Sofia had said she'd only followed her heart and didn't consider herself stuck to any sort of label. Ruby was the perfect person for her and there was no looking back.
"Tommy sent a pilot friend of his to pick us up from the airport when our taxi couldn't make it through the snow," she says, nearly knocked over as Ellie pummels her with a bear hug. "We were helicoptered in, like a couple of VIPs."
It's like old times as you share a booth altogether, different kinds of appetizers in the center of the table as you catch up on things.
"How did you manage to still stay friends with Tommy?" you ask when Ruby and Ellie go to make change for the jukebox. Hearing that Sofia is staying with Tommy and Maria during their visit, you can't help but wonder how other people can so easily put aside the past.
"I think it helped that we were friends before we started dating," she shrugs. "And.. to be honest, our relationship never got that serious. Not like you and Joel," she finishes in a whisper, darting a glance at the elder Miller brother, who's knocking back some beer with Tommy and a few others.
"Why do you ask?" Sofia continues.
"I don't know how to deal with being under the same roof as Joel," you admit. "Everything that he put me through.. I know we're only here for a few days but it feels like an eternity. It's becoming harder to avoid him."
"You should talk to him," she says gently. "You don't have to be best friends or anything, but you're a friend of the bride. You should at least be civil."
You sneak a look over your shoulder at him, just to find he's already staring at you. You quickly turn away.
"Does he know about.." Sofia motions with her head toward Ellie, who's at the jukebox with Ruby.
"No," you respond. "And he doesn't need to know."
"That's not fair to him," she softly scolds you.
"You are the only one I've trusted with this, Sofia. Please do not make me regret telling you."
Sofia is really the only family you have left. You never saw you father after that fateful night when Joel fought him, and your mother disowned Ellie when she came out, causing you to disown your mother in return. Your circle is small but faithful.
She backs off. "All right," she relents. "But what about Ellie? She'll resent you for keeping this a secret this long."
You watch your daughter, who's drifted from the jukebox to one of the pool tables, mindlessly spinning the cue ball upon the soft green surface. She's distracted when she sees another girl across the room, a pretty dark-haired girl around her own age, watching Ellie furtively, as if fascinated.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" Ellie shouts, causing the girl to run away.
"Ellie!" you snap at her, and to your astonishment Joel walks past you to go to her. You freeze, watching their interaction, but all seems to be okay as they talk quietly.
"I don't know what to do for her. I don't know how to help her.. she's so angry, especially since the divorce. And Justin rarely ever sees her. The only thing he's good for is the child support." You swig your beer, itching to go and talk to her, but the stubborn side of you refuses to be closer to Joel than is necessary.
Sofia folds her napkin in sections. "She called me and told me about Riley.. and the little mishap at the mall."
Earlier that year, Ellie and Riley had been picked up by the cops for trespassing in an abandoned mall and vandalizing some stores. It was completely unlike her, and even though you both sought family therapy for all the issues you were going through, it didn't seem to be making much leeway.
"She doesn't seem so angry now," Sofia mentions, and you turn to see Joel and Ellie starting a game of pool. You both watch as she tries to pull off complicated trick shots and Joel just shakes his head in feigned frustration. Once again your gaze lingers too long and you lock eyes, but this time you offer a tiny smile, mouthing 'thanks.'
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"Hey Mom, can I go with Joel and Finn? Joel said I have to ask you."
You look up from where you're steam-cleaning your dress for the rehearsal dinner tonight. "Where are you going?"
"It's near the woods on Joel's property. We're just going for a hike," she shrugs.
"I guess.. just behave yourself, okay?"
She grins, glad to have gotten permission. You follow her down to the foyer where Joel and Finn are getting their hats and gloves on. "Be careful," you tell them, though it's mostly meant for Joel.
"Of course. You're okay with her shootin'?"
"What?!"
Ellie manages to look chagrined. "I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew guns would be involved."
"Well you thought right!"
"I won't let her if you won't allow it," Joel offers.
"Come on!" Ellie groans.
"Just remember that you're on thin ice back home," you tell her without wanting to let on to the others about Ellie's troubled past.
"Somethin' the matter?" Joel asks, eyes darting between you and her.
"Nope," Ellie's all smiles when you hesitate to answer. "Let's get going!"
She and Finn race out the door into the snowy yard just as Joel stops for a brief moment. "I won't let her shoot if you don't want her to," he says solemnly.
The nearness of him, the rich baritone of his voice could easily bring you to your knees. It feels like a chore just to swallow that emotion and consider it dead, a mistake.
"Just be careful," you repeat, a smile flitting on your lips. Heat rises in your face when you see his gaze drop down to your mouth, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his own lips.
"You could come with us."
Your first instinct is to refuse, to keep that wall built between him and yourself. Good fences make good neighbors and brick walls keep people from reliving past trauma.
But damn it's hard to say no when he's here right in front of you, after all this time, and the parts of you that have healed just want to give in, to go into his arms again.
It's not a surprise when you're in the passenger seat of his truck, like old times. And though it's a newer model and the seats have warmers and the upholstery makes the whole car smell like it was just driven off the lot, in a way it still feels like summer 2003.
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Finn's done this before, the apple of his grandfather's eye. Even with the skill of a child, he shoots with ease, knocking down most of the targets Joel had set up on a fence.
When it's Ellie's turn she's eager for the gun, but her practice shots are haphazard: off an old fallen tree, a random snowbank. She huffs in frustration.
"Wide right," Joel tells her. "You're flinchin'."
Ellie shakes her head. "The target's too small."
"I made it bigger than I should've. Eject the cartridge."
You watch your only child move with precision, handling the gun with ease despite being new to this. "I'm not flinching, the rifle just sucks."
You and Finn exchange a look, suppressing your laughter.
"Okay, give it." Joel changes places with Ellie, who quips, "It doesn't aim right, you'll see."
It's hard to tear your eyes from him as he sets up, moving with the ease of someone half his age. "A deep breath in, slow breath out. You squeeze the trigger like you love it," he says, ignoring Ellie's teasing remarks. "Gentle, steady, nice and slow."
"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" she smirks, and when you laugh out loud Joel shakes his head, pulling off the perfect shot.
After, you rest on the tailgate of the truck while drinking warm beverages from your thermoses. Ellie and Finn gather their energy quickly enough, playing in the snow and chasing each other. It brightens your day to see your daughter smiling.
"I wanna apologize for the other day," Joel says, his eyes flicking to you. "I was outta line. I've apologized to Ellie too. I think she and I are good now."
You nod, somewhat relieved that he'd brought it up first. "I'm sorry too. I guess I get pretty riled up when someone tries to out-parent me."
Joel looks away, towards the mountains that peak their grayness against the clear blue sky. "He been outta the picture long?"
"Who? Justin?" You notice Joel winces at your ex husband's name. "Long enough. He was supposed to spend time with her for Christmas but chose his new wife over his own daughter. She didn't take it very well."
"Fuckin' bastard," he mutters. "Always figured there was a reason for me to not like him."
You give him a strange look. "You didn't know him."
"Didn't need to. He took you away from me. That's reason enough."
"Joel," you say quietly, both a scolding and a scoff. You remember his body against yours that night, the way your sheets bore his scent until the day before Justin came back from out of town and you had to wash away the evidence of your betrayal.
"I'm sorry I didn't go after you. There were a million opportunities and I failed each time."
You say his name again, with softness this time, your hand finding his, his palm almost completely dwarfing yours. You think about his fingers inside you, teasing you for the first time, showing you how to open up to him, and how you ended up giving away your whole heart.
In the moment where you can say the most heartwarming or romantic or even angry thing, what comes out of your mouth is: "You never accepted my friend request."
Joel looks puzzled. "What?"
"My friend request. On Facebook. I tried to add you but you never accepted it, so I canceled it." Cringing at your own words, how needy they sound, you take your hand from his, but he traps it within his own again.
"Darlin', I never look at that stuff. I only got one 'cause everyone else goaded me into it." His eyes look mirthful as he sees your doleful eyes.
"And that's how I found out about Tess.."
"Oh." The mirthful look is gone, replaced by a dark, blank look. The first marriage, the only marriage he ever had, so late in life, ended.
"What was she like?"
"Why do you wanna know?" He looks at the ground, as if the snow is so interesting. "What was that idiot fuckboy husband of yours like?"
You almost laugh, surprised that he's jealous, even after you've moved on from your marriage.
"He wasn't as great as I thought," you shrug. "But that doesn't matter now."
Joel smiles, agreeing. "Tess was.. we were good for awhile but you're right, doesn't matter now."
"Because we both turned out okay.. me and you."
He thinks it over a bit, eventually nodding. "Yeah.." His deep brown eyes meet yours, and you catch a glimmer of the man he was before, twenty years past, a single dad with a teenage girl and an interest in the new girl next door. "I'm sorry.. for everything. We happened so fast that my brain had to catch up with my heart."
You're afraid that if you think about it for too long you'll cry and never stop. "We don't have to talk about that.."
He nods, looking a little sad that you declined. "You're right, we don't."
"Look at you with all this land," you smile, gently teasing him to change the subject. "What are you gonna do with all of it?"
Joel shrugs, looking at his property, thinking again of the possibilities. "I might decide to turn it into a ranch, raise sheep," he shrugs. "They're quiet and do what they're told."
He's quiet another moment, before his voice drops an octave. "I'm really glad you came, babygirl.. it's really good to see you. Don't think I said that before."
A smile graces your lips, a genuine one, and the warmth of his words melts what's left of your defenses. "Joel.. there's something I need to tell you.. about Ellie.." The words are out before you even think.
Your heart pounds, taking residence in your throat as if to keep the truth from spilling out. Joel turns his whole body to you. His eyes search yours, without question or condemnation, as if he's willing you to say it because he already knows, because he just wants it made real.
When the moment passes it's a disappointment to both of you. It's getting later in the afternoon and you still need to get ready for tonight. The kids trudge back to the truck and you get in next to Joel in the front. There's a quietness that fills the space, thick and somewhat desperate.
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The Tipsy Bison has gone through another temporary makeover for the rehearsal dinner: garlands of lights arch across the ceiling from beam to beam, creating a pleasant, dreamy atmosphere. People mill around waiting for the bride and groom who are running a little late. Drinks are served and tables of food boast different kinds of cuisine.
Ellie makes a beeline for the hors d'oevres, immediately picking out what she wants and stuffing it straight into her mouth as if she hasn't seen food in months. Joel watches her from the next table over, trying hard as hell not to call her out too harshly, but as his stomach growls he joins her in the hunt for sustenance.
A tray of pastel-colored macarons catches Ellie's eye and she takes a light green treat with her fingers. "What are these?" She scrutinizes it, taking a quick sniff.
"It's some kinda cookie.. or something.. how the hell should I know?" he grumbles.
"Pistachio," she grunts in disgust, putting it back on the plate.
"Well, now don't put it back, you've already touched it and sniffed it and everything.." Joel quickly pops the discarded macaron into his mouth.
"If you want 'em they're all yours," she says, giving his shoulder a couple heavy claps before moving on down the line of food.
He just shakes his head, looking around for you for the tenth time tonight, finding you with Sarah and her soon-to-be inlaws at the bar. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you in a dark red dress, long-sleeved, cinched at the waist, and he feels a familiar rush of blood to his cock as he eyes the thigh-length slit on one side of the skirt.
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"That color is sensational on you."
You turn to the voice you've just heard, as the group you were talking with disperses.
"Hi," you tell the older, well-dressed man in front of you. "I don't believe we've met." But then it hits you, and just as he introduces himself you realize you already know his name.
"I'm Frank," he says, a Duchenne smile lighting up his features and crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. He's handsome, and very friendly. And he was friends with Joel during his marriage to Tess.
He introduces you to his husband Bill, who regards you with a certain suspicion and gives a gruff acknowledgement to your hello. "He's like that with everyone," Franks explains in a stage whisper, while rolling his eyes. "He's just a big grump, but I love him."
"I'm a friend of the bride," you tell them after giving your name, and also introducing Ellie, who's arrived next to you with a plate piled high with shrimp, pulled pork sliders, and mini cheesecakes.
"She's a friend of Joel's," Frank tells Bill, as if to clarify.
"Um, yes.. I'm also a friend of his," you agree. Pretending to spot someone across the room, you excuse yourself, giving a subtle motion for Ellie to follow you, but she stays where she is, popping a whole shrimp in her mouth, eyeing the couple.
"There's a story there," Frank says enticingly as he sips his beer.
"What do you mean?" she asks, curious about the gossip.
Bill gives him a look and shakes his head. "She's a kid, she doesn't need your dramatic stories."
"Now I have to know!" Ellie insists.
Frank feigns annoyance. "Oh all right."
He weaves the tale of Joel and his wife Tess: happily married at first, so alike in attitude and hobbies. She thought she knew everything about the man she married, but when Tommy, in a drunken game of poker one night, recalled a certain young woman who Joel knew, a woman who could tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, Joel told his brother, in a similar drunken state, that he remembered her fondly, missed her like crazy, she was the one who got away.
Tess wasn't the type to hound someone for details, but she didn't like there was a part of Joel's past that she didn't know about. Especially if that past was filled with him falling in love with and screwing a college girl. This naturally led to arguments that Tess refused to drop. Joel didn't want to relive that time with you, and insisted it meant nothing since you were well and truly out of his life.
But the damage had been done, and the thorn of jealousy had pierced Tess's heart. You were a stranger to her and still could not be defeated.
Frank recalled with suppressed glee the night Tess had stormed out on a dinner party, ranting at Joel about "not being able to get over a stupid ass teenager" and causing a scene for the others to eat up. It had embarrassed Joel deeply, but when news of Sarah's wedding had become known, Joel couldn't keep it secret from the friends of his ex-wife. He'd come to like them in his own way, especially Bill, with whom he shared a predilection for quiet and keeping to one's self. They hunted and fished like old times and soon enough both he and Frank were invited to the wedding.
"There's a saying that goes," Frank is telling Ellie, "'everyone can see it but them.'"
Ellie glances at you across the room, and then at Joel. You and he trade silent, surreptitious glances at one another, filled with longing. You glance at him and he catches you before you glance away, and vice versa. The signal between your gazes is irrefutable. There's something there, has been all this time. All it needed was a little meddling from Sarah to bring the spark back to life.
For the first time Ellie sees you as something more than her mother. She realizes you had a past, a life before she was born, and a fraction of that life was spent in love with a man she just met a couple days ago.
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"Hey Mom, can you help?"
Hearing Ellie, you immediately shift into Mom Mode, stopping your own get-ready routine to assist her. She's in your doorway, holding out her wrists. She picked out the suit herself, but the cufflinks are something new.
"Did you get these from your dad?"
"Joel let me borrow them for today."
It's finally the day of the wedding, and as the ceremony isn't until the evening, the whole house is a kind of organized chaos from morning through the afternoon. As if your nerves weren't already on fire, Sarah had approached you early that morning (fortunately for her while you were drinking your coffee) and asked if you'd replace one of her bridesmaids who'd come down with a cold overnight and couldn't attend.
You'd reasoned with her that you didn't have a bridesmaid dress, but that was easily solved when it was revealed the bridesmaids were all wearing jewel tones, and the sapphire gown you'd purchased off the rack would do just fine.
You had anticipated being part of a crowd. Now you'd be at the front of the congregation, all eyes on you, especially Joel's.
Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you finish helping Ellie with her cufflinks and let her entertain you with whatever teenage thought is flipping around in her brain while you touch up your makeup.
"I'm supposed to meet with Sarah and the bridal party at the church. You can ride with me or you'll have to find a ride with someone else."
"Joel will take me."
You brush away some stray powder on your cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Maybe he could take both of us. Want me to ask him?"
"No--"
But she's gone before you can stop her.
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You feel Joel's eyes on you as you during the short drive to the church, and you blame the heat you feel coursing through your body on the seat warmer.
"It's a nice thing you're doin' for Sarah, steppin' in at the last minute," he says, eyes finally on the road.
"I can't let down a bride in need," you say somewhat cheerfully. "She'd do the same for me."
"Maybe at your next wedding." Ellie pipes up from the backseat, and Joel's frown is not lost on you.
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The lead-up to the actual ceremony is a blur, as it was at your own wedding fifteen years before. The bridal party clusters around Sarah, who looks radiant, as she promises she isn't nervous. You can sense her agitation in the way her knee bounces as she's seated, one of the bridesmaids doing a last minute touch up to her hair. The air is heavy with excitement, the scent of hair spray and perfume all around you, reminding you that you're flammable.
"Remember this day," you advise her, and she looks up at you with a grateful smile. "It goes by unbelievably fast."
You wonder if you'll ever have this again, the butterflies in your stomach as you wait for the moment when you see your man at the aisle, awaiting you. You were lucky to have it once. Twice would be an anomaly, considering you haven't had a real relationship in so long.
Joel knocks and, granted entrance, the bridesmaids flutter about, getting ready for their entrance into the church. The bride and her father are left alone, no doubt exchanging words of love before he gives her away to her true love.
You had no one to walk down the aisle with when you were a bride, and the memory threatens to cloud your mind as you take your small bouquet of white roses and camellias. "Canon in D" starts, and the line makes its way down the aisle, towards the altar where Theo and his groomsmen wait.
Situated at the altar, the congregation rises as the music changes, and Sarah walks in, arm in arm with Joel.
Your eyes are on him the entire time, and your heart feels to big to fit in your chest. You've never seen Joel in a suit, but this one is perfectly tailored to his broad, strong physique. His hair is perfectly styled, his grey visible through the curls you long to run your fingers through.
When Sarah and Theo exchange vows your gaze unexpectedly meet Joel's and this time neither of you look away. You catch the glimmer of a tear falling down his cheek, which he does not wipe away. The bride and groom's words seem to ring loud and true: a promise of love through hard times and illness; of love that only grows in each others' absence; of love that does not die even after death.
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The reception is held at the Tipsy Bison, and you marvel at how it's managed to disguise itself once more from a saloon to an elegant wedding atmosphere. A lot of money has gone into the week's events, and you know it's all Joel's doing. He's giving away his daughter, sending her off in style, giving her a day she'll remember forever.
You watch Sarah and Joel during their father-daughter dance, a tradition you didn't get to have yourself. "I Loved Her First" by Heartland starts up by the band onstage, and it tugs on your heartstrings to watch them. In the back of your mind you see them, Joel still thirty-six and Sarah still fourteen. By the time Sarah and Theo have their first dance as husband and wife you're already in the ladies' room, splashing cold water on your face so no one can see you've been crying.
Later, the bridesmaids and groomsmen have scattered, dancing or drinking at the bar, mingling. You stay at your seat at the now nearly-empty wedding party table, fingers twirling the stem of your champagne glass.
Mired in your own thoughts, you don't realize Joel has approached, crouching next to you.
"Dance with me?" he asks, his voice nearly a rasp with how nervous he is.
Wordlessly you take his hand, which practically dwarfs your own, as he leads you to the dance floor. You fall into a rhythm as the band starts up "Tennessee Whiskey", swaying softly to the music. His right hand rests on your lower back, gently guiding you. Your heart pounds as you gaze into his eyes. You haven't been this close to him since the night you conceived Ellie, the fateful night that threw a wrench into all your plans.
"It was a beautiful wedding," you lean in close to be heard over the music.
Joel shivers at your proximity, the brush of your lips against his ear, and he pulls you a little closer. "I'm happy you came all this way for it. You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," you affirm, your hand gliding up to his shoulder.
The air is thick with tension, much like in the days you'd first met. You have to turn away or risk your feelings made known to everyone here.
Ellie's at one of the booths with the dark-haired girl from a couple days ago, watching something on her phone. As the girl laughs you see Ellie looking at her with a warmth you haven't known her capable of for anyone else.
"She's going to hate me for having to take her away again.." you tell him. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time."
He clears his throat. "Maybe now she has a reason to return." He nods towards Ellie and her new friend.
Your limbs stiffen a little in response. You're not yet ready to think about the future, the possibilities it holds. You've barely begun to mend your friendship with Joel.
"Maybe," you relent, quietly, a promise made in the ether.
Joel's silent as the music moves smoothly in the air between you. His grip tightens on your body as he asks, "She's mine, ain't she?"
You snap from your thoughts, your heart in your throat as you stop dancing. "Excuse me?" Your eyes bore into him, daring him to speak the truth for himself.
"The other day you said 'our daughter'.. the timeline's right, I'm not that bad at math," he manages a smile.
"Joel, I.." you shake your head. "It's all too much. I can't think about this right now."
"Just tell me the truth," he says quietly.
"What would it matter if she was?"
"It'd make a whole hell of a difference. Two daughters, two Miller girls. Don't you think somethin' like that would make me happy?"
For a rare moment you let yourself think about the day your mother came to get you, pull you back home to Houston seeped in shame and regret. She'd lied and manipulated facts to get you on her side. You vowed you'd never be like her or put Ellie through that.
"Yes, Joel.." you whisper. "She's yours.."
The joy that shines in his eyes is like nothing you've ever seen before. When his arms wrap around you your lips find his as if twenty years has never passed between you. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, you're making out like teenagers.
"I want you," he growls.
"Let's get out of here," you agree.
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You're barely through the front door of his home when he presses you to the wall, his mouth hungry for yours. You hadn't thought you'd experience this level of passion again, but time has not diminished it for either of you.
"Joel," you moan as he presses himself to you, the blunt hardness of his erection teasing you. "Fuck me, Joel.."
He groans at your words, body aching with desire as he goes to his knees in front of you, lifting the hem of your dress. He presses messy kisses along your thighs while his hands roam over your hips and ass, his breath hot against your skin as he approaches the spot he most wants to taste again.
"Been too long, darlin'," he murmurs as he pulls your lacy underwear down your legs. "Been too damn long since I had you like this."
You kick your panties off, hooking one leg over his shoulder as he dives in, tongue lapping at your sweet pussy like a thirsty man finally finding water.
He stays there, tongue dancing between your folds and then tickling your clit, tasting you so deeply that you cry out, head falling back, body arched towards him, fingers tangled in his hair. Joel feasts like a man starved, slurping you up, inhaling your scent that surrounds him. There's nothing about you that's changed. You're still so sensitive to his touch, responsive to his lips, tongue, and now fingers pressed deep inside, finding the spot that makes you scream while his lips purse around your throbbing clit.
He doesn't stop after you come. He feasts on you over and over again, making up for lost time, pleading for your forgiveness this way, literally on his knees until you scream his name, convulsing around his fingers, your honey collecting on his large digits. Only when you feel completely boneless does he remove them gently, licking up your syrupy taste.
Joel picks you up, your dress falling back in to place as he carries you bridal style up to his room.
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All roads have led back to him. No matter where you went, no matter who you chose, Joel was always going to be there at the end of the path, your guiding light, even when you thought you hated him and when you thought he would never choose you again.
Even now, his body over yours, he's the missing piece of the puzzle. He teases you with his cock until you beg him to just put it in, to make you whole again. The glorious slide of his flesh into yours causes you both to gasp and your bodies still for a moment, taking in the significance of this act which you've done so many times before.
He's older now, but his vigor is not gone. He fucks you gently at first, then with impatience, as if he's afraid you'll dissolve like a dream in daylight. You'd know the feel of his cock among any other, the smooth outline and the ridges, the way he's molded his perfect shape into you, marked you years ago when you were a virgin, as if leaving his initials inside you. Mine.
You've never had a man to match him, never had someone so in sync with your body. He knows all your buttons, every dip and valley that his hand caresses. He's mapped out your skin like a cartographer, claiming the land in his own name.
You come almost too quickly the first time, before he flips you on top of him, gripping your hips as you ride him. "Love you," you moan as you come close to the edge again, heart and soul flying ahead of you into the bliss you've only really known with him.
Beneath you Joel's eyes go wide when you come, his hips lifting up into you, warmth spilling into your core.
"Babygirl," he whispers, a choked grunt as he turns pale, his skin clammy and sweaty when he loses consciousness.
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As soon as Sarah and Ellie arrive at the hospital you hug them, overcome with worry for Joel's medical emergency.
"How is he?" Sarah asks, still in her wedding dress. Even in the emergency waiting room she's generating a lot of interested looks her way.
"They just took him in a few minutes ago," you tell her, secretly glad she wasn't there to see her dad in such shape. "I think it was a heart attack.."
"Oh my god," she puts her hand over her mouth and sits on the nearest chair, Ellie right next to her, comforting her.
"The party's winding down at the bar," Ellie explains. "Only a few people know-- Theo, Tommy, Maria.."
"We didn't want to worry anyone else," Sarah adds.
You look at her, heart aching. This is supposed to be her special day.. and if something happens to Joel--
Don't think like that.
The three of you sit down, drinking stale coffee from the machine down the hall. Soon Tommy joins you, Theo staying at the house to keep an eye on Finn.
The worst thoughts poke through your brain, teasing you and taunting you. But at last the doctor comes out, a guy even younger than yourself, green scrubs and white coat.
He talks with the family, letting them know the diagnosis. "It was a silent myocardial infarction, basically a mild heart attack," he explains it. "He's going to be fine and he's resting right now."
"A heart attack?" Tommy and Sarah exclaim together.
"At his age it's not uncommon.. he's fifty-six years old," the doctor checks the chart. "Now, we have him on some aspirin and beta-blockers. Tests show he doesn't have enough blockage to necessitate surgery, but he'll need blood pressure medication and to keep a healthier lifestyle."
"Can we see him?" you ask.
"Yes, two at a time, preferably. We want to keep him calm while we're monitoring him." He checks the chart again and looks at you. "You brought him in, correct, ma'am?"
"Yes.. why?"
"What was Mr. Miller doing before he exhibited symptoms of his coronary event?"
"Um.. what?" you pretend not to understand.
"What was he doing before he had his heart attack?"
"Mild heart attack," Tommy emphasizes.
"Well.." you race to think of what to tell him.
"I take it you were celebrating a wedding," the doctor says, seeing Sarah in her dress and the rest of you in tuxes and gowns and whispers a 'Congratulations' to her.
"Yes. Well, we danced.." you answer, and the doctor keeps his eyes on you as if he knows you're lying.
You go up to him, giving a subtle whisper. "We were.. intimate--"
"Sexual relations," he nods, writing it on the chart. "It's important for us to know what was a causing factor in his event. Now, two at a time can visit him."
Tommy and Sarah go first. He gives you a sly wink. "Y'all were fuckin'!" he teases, passing by. Sarah gives you an excited smile, to which you just purse your lips.
It's quiet but for the bag of Lays Ellie has opened, eating the chips slowly. "So you and Joel?"
You nod.
"But not just tonight.. a long time ago, right?"
There's an odd sensation in your stomach, as if the unspoken truth is fluttering around inside, beating its wings as it tries to find a way out. "I guess there's a lot I need to tell you. But only when you're ready."
Ellie seems to steel herself for whatever conversation is on the way, nodding at last, crumpling up the bag and tossing it in the bin. "Ready."
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Seeing Joel in the hospital bed is a sobering visual. Years ago your age gap represented something illicit, scandalous. Now you're reminded that no matter what road you and he take from here, you will most likely outlive Joel Miller.
He's awake when you and Ellie go in. It's obvious he doesn't like being here, but in his current state is not fit to complain.
"Hey," you say softly, going to his side. "How are you feeling?" You caress his cheek with the back of your hand.
Joel's eyes close at your delicate touch, and when he opens them there's a warmth in them that can't be denied. "I've been better, babygirl," he says. "But I'm damn glad you're here."
He glances at Ellie, seated in a chair on his other side. "And how about you, kiddo? You okay?"
"Am I okay?" she says incredulously. "Dude, I'm not the one in a hospital bed." But her face clearly shows relief that Joel's all right. You also see her brain working over everything you've told her (well, the gist of it.. there are some things she doesn't need to know).
"I was so worried," you tell him, your voice soft and warm, all your feelings coming to the forefront. "I thought I was gonna lose you."
Tears appear in Joel's eyes, which he brushes away impatiently. "You ain't losin' me yet, baby. Not for a long time, not if you don't want to."
"Joel.." you whisper. "Do you really want to do this? After everything that's happened.. all the hurt we put each other through.. all the secrets.." you cast a glance at Ellie, who looks more reserved than you've ever seen her before. Sensing this is a moment you want to share alone, she gives a fleeting smile before she leaves, giving Joel a playful mock hit on his shoulder. Still smiling, Joel pats the space beside him in the bed and you snuggle in with him, his body warm.
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Joel asks softly, eyes imploring you. "You're mine and I'm yours. That's how this thing of ours operates: you belong to me and I belong to you. Despite everything that's happened in the last twenty years, that's been the one constant." His hands grips yours, thumb running over your knuckles. "I don't care if I've got thirty years or thirty days left of my life. I wanna spend the rest of it with you, babygirl."
You search his eyes, seeing nothing there but the truth, laid bare and ready for you to either accept or deny.
He continues, "I don't wanna keep failin' you. I'm too much in love to let you go again." Then he gently lifts your chin, making sure you meet his eyes. "But only if you want me back."
Some would say you're on a precipice in the choice you're about to make, but it's not that difficult to choose. It's simply the separate paths you're on, converging at last. for good.
"You're the only one I've ever wanted," you whisper. It's not a fancy declaration of truth, a bit surprising coming from an English teacher, but it's the only thing Joel needs to hear before he pulls you close for another kiss.
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Joel's released on Christmas Eve, and the two of you don't waste any time.
You and Joel are married in a small, intimate ceremony in the spacious living room of his home. Ellie, Sarah, Theo, Finn, Tommy, Maria, Sofia, Ruby, and even Bill and Frank are in attendance, watching as a judge from town and friend of the Millers officiates.
Joel promises you a nicer wedding when the frost thaws, anywhere you want in the world. You tell him you can't imagine a more perfect place to marry the most perfect man for you.
Your first wedding went by in a blur, but this time around you engrave it upon your heart, make note of every little skip of your heart when you and Joel hold hands, his delicate touch as he places a gorgeous sapphire ring on your hand, the sweetness of his lips when you share your first kiss as husband and wife.
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After Christmas, Sarah and Theo leave for their honeymoon to Maui, and with the weather more agreeable the guests take leave too. Tommy sees to it that you and Joel have your house all to yourselves for your own honeymoon.
You insist on taking it easy with Joel, but he tells you he'd rather die while inside you, his name pouring from your lips the last thing he ever hears. He seems to get a second wind with you, making use of every possible flat surface in the house. You feel better about such activity when he takes his medication, promising to take it faithfully so long as you follow it with a kiss.
One morning after a particularly strenuous night, while drinking coffee in the kitchen and discussing your plans, Ellie returns, calling out to you before she enters.
"You're not doing anything gross in there, are you?"
"No," Joel laughs.
"Yes we are, we're working on making a sibling for you," you smirk over your coffee, glancing at Joel and giving a little shake of your head when his eyes go wide.
"Gross," she mutters, walking in. "Joel, Tommy says everyone's meeting at the Tipsy Bison for lunch later. But he couldn't get through to you on the phone." She makes a playful, pointed look, eyeing the two of you.
She's lukewarm to the idea of calling Joel 'Dad', and there's going to be some legal hoops to go through regarding Justin and his parental claim. But it all seems so small in comparison to the problems that plagued you before. You can get through anything because now you have each other.
You and Joel get ready as Ellie goes back to Tommy's, enjoying spending her time with Finn and getting ready to leave with them instead.
Unable to keep your hands off each other, it takes you twice as long to get dressed, hands going into each other's back pockets, lips finding each other's throats.
There's all the time in the world for it now.
Driving up to the Tipsy Bison, Joel turns on the radio. "Cherry, Cherry" starts to play, and you sing along with Neil Diamond, catching your husband's eye as he smiles and sings along too. The road before you is smooth, mountains standing guard in the distance, staying the same grand height no matter how far along you drive. Joel's hand finds yours, presses a kiss to it before entwining your fingers.
"Babe?"
"Yes, Mrs. Miller?"
You smile. "Let's not go right away. Let's drive around a little, play this song again, just soak in this moment."
"Of course, babygirl. I don't want to share you with the others just yet anyway."
Neil continues on the radio: No, we won't tell a soul where we gone to Girl, we do whatever we want to Ah, I love the way that you do me Cherry, babe, you really get to me
It's come full circle, and it only took two decades to complete. You and Joel in his truck, your song playing, the sun shining through the hazy clouds. You could close your eyes and it'd be 2003 again.
dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑
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sabrinasopposite · 2 days ago
Text
don’t you want me like i want you?
clark kent x guitarist!reader
don’t you want me
like i want you baby?
sleep tonight but tonights going crazy
meet me at the…. APT.
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
For some, music is a companion—a loyal shadow that lingers, a daily necessity. But for others, it’s more. It’s everything. They don’t just hear it; they see it in the shifting hues of the sky, feel it in the vibration of the earth, live it in every heartbeat. For them, music isn’t a sound; it’s a language, a lifeline, a mirror.
For y/n, it was all of that and more. It was a sanctuary, the only way to release the emotions she couldn’t quite speak aloud. Music was her escape—a getaway car racing through uncharted roads. Plug in the headphones, press play, and suddenly, the world became a little softer, a little brighter. It was like being handed a map to a place only she understood.
But sometimes, the search for new music felt like a hunt—a quest for the perfect sound that could stir her soul, rekindle a spark, or provide the soundtrack for a moment she hadn’t yet lived. For y/n, this hunt was eternal, an ache as familiar as the chords of her favorite songs.
She had arrived in Smallville just weeks ago, a town so quiet it seemed like it could have been plucked from the second verse of a Radiohead track—melancholic yet oddly serene, with beauty tucked between its stillness. It was a far cry from the electric heartbeat of New York City, where she’d spent most of her life.
Smallville felt like a genre she’d never chosen—like a punk rocker trying to write country ballads. You either adapted and found the rhythm, or you didn’t. Y/n wasn’t sure yet which way it would go.
New York had been loud, chaotic, a symphony of endless possibility. Smallville was... still. Too still. But in that stillness, y/n found space to think—a fact that scared her more than she cared to admit. Change was like hearing a song for the first time: jarring, unfamiliar. But sometimes, if you gave it a chance, the melody could surprise you.
Her first days in Smallville were spent wandering its streets, letting herself get lost, hoping to stumble upon something—a spark, a rhythm, a new favorite lyric in this quiet album of a town. High school loomed on the horizon, another challenge she wasn’t ready to face. Her only solace was her family: her parents and her older brother, Theodore.
Theodore was her opposite in some ways but her twin in one crucial aspect—music. While she craved the melancholic poetry of The Smiths and the atmospheric pull of Fleetwood Mac, Theodore was all raw energy. His heroes were The Clash and the Sex Pistols, their messy rebellion plastered all over his bedroom walls.
Their playlists were mismatched, but their shared passion for sound connected them like two strings on the same guitar.
“You listen to sad music,” Theodore teased one night as she scribbled lyrics in her worn notebook.

“And you listen to angry music,” she shot back, smirking.

“Anger gets things done. What does sadness do?”
“It makes you feel,” she replied simply, her words trailing into the hum of a record spinning in the background.
It was during one of her aimless walks through Smallville that y/n saw it—a poster taped to a lamppost, its bold letters practically leaping off the page:
“LIVE MUSIC! TALON EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT!”
Her heart skipped, the words striking a chord in her chest. She’d passed the Talon a few times—a cozy coffee shop with an unassuming exterior—but now, it gleamed with possibility.
A smile crept across her face, bright and mischievous like the neon ink on the poster. Maybe this is it, she thought. A way to feel like herself again. To stop feeling like a background instrument in her own life.
She ran her fingers over the strap of her guitar case later that night, her mind racing. She hadn’t performed since New York—a string of open mics where she poured her heart out to strangers in dark rooms. But this felt different. This felt like the start of a new setlist.
Theodore didn’t take much convincing. Over dinner, she pitched the idea “Live music at this place called the Talon. Friday night. Let’s go.”

“You mean you should go,” he replied with a smirk. “With your brooding Smiths covers.”

“And you can bring your chaotic drum solos,” she countered, grinning. “Fine. But I get to pick one song,” theodore said, his grin mirroring hers.
🖤
As the days rolled by, the night of the Talon finally awrrived. y/n had been counting down to it, her excitement mingling with nervous energy.
The Talon wasn’t just any coffee shop—it was the place to be in Smallville. By day, it was a cozy corner where locals sipped lattes and caught up on homework. By night, it transformed into a buzzing hub for the town’s younger crowd, especially students from Smallville High.
Lana Lang, a fellow student, was the mastermind behind it all. Running the Talon was more than just a job for Lana—it was her dream, a vision she’d nurtured into reality. She’d given the shop a unique vibe, blending vintage cinema posters and retro lighting with warm, earthy tones that made it feel timeless. The Talon was Lana’s way of shaping the world around her, just like music shaped y/n’s.
For y/n, tonight was about sharing her heart through her guitar. But for Clark Kent, tonight was about surviving his friends’ enthusiasm.
Clark hadn’t planned on going. Events like this weren’t his thing—too loud, too crowded, and not exactly farm-boy friendly. But Chloe and Pete had been relentless.
“Come on, Clark!” Chloe said, practically dragging him along Main Street. “You can’t spend every Friday night doing farm stuff or staring at your ceiling. Live a little!” Yeah, man,” Pete added. “The Talon’s where it’s at. Music, coffee, and a crowd that’s actually, you know, alive. It’s way better than your barn.”
Clark sighed, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “I don’t even like these kinds of events. You guys know that.”
“That’s because you’ve never given them a chance,” Chloe said with a knowing smile. “And besides, Lana’s worked really hard to put this together. The least you can do is show up and support her.”
Clark glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “So this is about Lana.”
“No,” Chloe replied quickly—too quickly. “It’s about live music. Supporting local talent. Being a good friend. And, okay, maybe it wouldn’t kill you to, you know, talk to her while you’re there.”
Pete laughed. “Clark Kent, master of subtlety. I bet he stands in the corner all night, sipping coffee and avoiding eye contact.”
Clark shook his head but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Fine. I’ll go. But only for a little while.” Chloe and Pete exchanged victorious looks as they stepped into the Talon.
The place was already packed, the buzz of conversation and laughter filling the air. Y/n and Theodore arrived early, her guitar slung over her shoulder and his drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. Theodore had been grumbling about being dragged out of the house, but Y/n could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
Clark, on the other hand, stuck close to Chloe and Pete, scanning the room. The warmth of the fairy lights and the smell of coffee filled the air, and despite himself, he felt a bit more at ease.
“See?” Chloe said, nudging him. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
Clark shrugged but stayed quiet. His eyes wandered to the small stage at the far end of the shop, where musicians were setting up. He didn’t recognize anyone, but something about the electric energy in the air made him pause.
🖤
Meanwhile, Y/n was standing offstage, tuning her guitar and stealing glances at the growing crowd. Her nerves were starting to show, but Theodore gave her a reassuring nudge. “You’ve got this,” he said, tapping his drumsticks against his leg.
“Thanks,” she replied, trying to steady her breathing. This was it—the start of something new, in a place she was still trying to call home. And as the first chords echoed through the Talon, the crowd quieted, and all eyes turned to the stage.
y/n stood at the center of the small stage, her white guitar resting comfortably in her arms, as if it had always been there. Her outfit—a mix of rockstar glam and effortless charm—caught the light just enough to make her seem larger than life.
She looked like the kind of girl people might describe as a "rockstar’s girlfriend," but there was no mistaking her presence. She wasn’t anyone’s shadow; she was the main event. A free spirit with fire in her veins and a guitar that held all the words she couldn’t speak aloud.
Her style might have turned heads, but it was her eyes that truly shone under the purplish lights. They sparkled with the energy of someone who had something to say and wasn’t afraid to let the music do the talking.
The room buzzed softly with conversation as she stepped up to the mic. She leaned in, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Hi, everyone,” she began, her voice warm but laced with the sharpness of her New Yorker accent. “Hope you guys are ready for something a little... rocky tonight.” She chuckled, the sound carrying through the room like the first strum of a chord.
y/n scanned the small crowd of the Talon, her heart pounding. The faces staring back weren’t familiar, but that didn’t matter. She wasn’t performing for recognition. This was her way of speaking to the world, of sharing her stories—even if some of those stories were ones she’d only imagined.
Love, for instance. It wasn’t something she’d experienced firsthand, but it was a world she often visited in her mind. She’d written countless poems about it, pouring her thoughts into metaphors and melodies.
Tonight, she was ready to turn those words into something real, even if it was just for three minutes under the Talon’s lights. She glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Theodore. His drumsticks were poised in his hands, his posture relaxed but ready. She gave him a small nod, a signal to drop the bass and let the rhythm take over.
With that, Theodore struck the first note, a deep, vibrating pulse that seemed to ripple through the room. y/n felt the vibration in her chest, grounding her, reminding her why she loved this. The noise of the crowd softened as the music began to build, pulling everyone’s attention toward the siblings on stage.
y/n closed her eyes for a brief moment, feeling the weight of the guitar in her hands. Then she opened them, her fingers finding the strings instinctively. The first chord rang out clear and strong, cutting through the hum of the room like a declaration.
The song they were playing was called APT, a fun, energetic piece she had written inspired by a drinking game her friend from downtown, NYC had introduced her to.
It was a game called Apteu, and although it was just a silly tradition, it had given y/n the perfect material for a lighthearted, upbeat song. The track was full of energy and rhythm, designed to get people moving and feeling good—just the kind of vibe she wanted to set in this crowded room tonight.
She started to sing, her voice rising and falling with the melody, effortlessly weaving through the rhythm. Her eyes sparkled with passion, each word she sang carrying the weight of emotions she often kept hidden. When y/n sang, it was like she wasn’t just performing; she was living inside the song, letting every note and lyric become part of her. She embodied it, lost in the world of the music, letting it carry her to places she could only dream about.
Her voice was a perfect blend of sweetness and edge, like honey with a kick of spice.
“Don't you want me like I want you, baby?
Don’t you want me like I need you now?
Sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. All you gotta do is just meet me at the…”
Her voice echoed through the Talon, drawing the crowd into her spell.
Clark, who had been standing in the back, arms folded and quietly observing, found himself completely captivated. His eyes followed y/n as she moved, completely lost in the song, and suddenly, he realized he was too. It wasn’t just the music—it was the way she poured herself into every note, the way she made it feel like her voice was something raw and real, like it had never been rehearsed, only lived.
His friends, Chloe and Pete, were watching him, but Clark couldn’t tear his eyes away. The entire room seemed to pulse with the beat, and y/n was at the center of it, effortlessly drawing everyone into her orbit. He wasn’t sure if it was the way the song felt so alive, or the way y/n seemed so in tune with every word she sang, but there was something about it—something about her—that hit him harder than he expected.
“She’s good,” Chloe whispered, nudging him. ,,Better than good, actually.”
Pete grinned. “I told you. This is way better than farm chores.”
Clark barely heard them. His focus was entirely on y/n, who was lost in the music. Her eyes glinted with emotion, her whole body swaying in time with the rhythm, and Clark felt that strange spark again, like the first crack of lightning on a stormy night. He was drawn to her in a way he didn’t understand, but the more she sang, the more he couldn’t look away.
y/n smiled briefly as she sang, her gaze briefly meeting Clark’s across the room. It was a fleeting moment, just long enough for him to feel something—a connection he couldn’t name, but he couldn’t ignore.
As she finished the song with a flourish, the crowd cheered, and y/n’s face lit up, glowing with the warmth of the applause. But for a brief second, Clark was still caught in the aftershocks of that look, a smile that was just for him—or at least, that’s how it felt.
The crowd cheered, some shouting their praise while others lingered at the edge of the stage, chatting and laughing. y/n was swarmed by a few people who complimented her performance, but she stayed humble, thanking them with a bright smile and an easy laugh. Theodore hung back, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a quiet pride.
As the buzz of conversation filled the air, y/n and her brother moved off the stage, standing near the side of the room to catch their breath. Clark, still lost in the aftershock of her performance, was snapped back to reality when Chloe grabbed his arm, pulling him forward.
“Come on, Clark, let’s go say hi! You can't just stand there looking like you’re stuck in a trance,” she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Pete followed, still grinning. “Yeah, man. She’s great, huh? Let’s go talk to her.”
🖤
They walked toward the area where Y/N and Theodore stood, and for a moment, Clark hesitated. His heart was still pounding, and his mind was a little lost in the world he’d just experienced. It was just a song, just a girl—yet, something about the way she’d sung had gotten under his skin. But as they got closer, he found himself caught in the whirl of people milling around, all eager to meet the new musician, all laughing and talking.
“Hey, I just wanted to say you did an amazing job,” Chloe said, reaching Y/N and flashing her a wide smile.
Y/N returned her smile, her eyes still alight from the performance. “Thanks! Glad you liked it. It’s always a little nerve-wracking to play for people you’ve never met.”
“Well, you nailed it,” Pete chimed in. “You’ve got a real gift. And that song—APT—man, that was infectious. You had everyone in here dancing with you.”
Y/N laughed, her voice warm and sincere. “I’m just glad it got people vibing. It’s one of those silly songs, you know? You gotta embrace the fun in it.”
Theodore stood silently beside her, occasionally nodding when someone complimented his drumming, but for the most part, he seemed content to watch his sister shine in the spotlight.
Clark hung back, not sure if he should join the conversation. His mind was still racing with thoughts of Y/N, of how she seemed so at ease on stage, and how her smile had made him feel like they were the only two people in the room. But he didn’t speak up. Instead, he found himself standing just out of reach, watching quietly, unsure of what to say.
After a few moments, the conversation began to drift away from the music, and people started to break off into smaller groups, chatting about other things. Clark felt the opportunity slipping away.
“I guess we should get going,” Chloe said after a while, her tone casual, but there was a hint of something in her voice, like she could tell Clark was still lost in the night’s events. “It’s getting late, and we don’t want to leave our fearless leader to fend for himself.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pete agreed, giving Clark a playful nudge.
Y/N’s eyes caught Clark’s again as they turned to leave. Their gazes met, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world paused. But before Clark could say anything—before he could find the courage to step forward and introduce himself—she turned back to talk to someone else, lost in the group.
Clark hesitated, and the moment passed.
“Well, that was… interesting,” Pete said with a grin as they headed toward the door. “You seemed like you were a million miles away, man. You’re telling me you didn’t feel that? She’s something else, huh?”
Chloe gave him a teasing look. “Clark’s not the type to swoon over a girl in a coffee shop, Pete. Let him off the hook.”
Clark didn’t answer. His thoughts were elsewhere, stuck on the look they’d shared. He thought, maybe, there could have been something. But as they walked out of the Talon and into the cool night air, the excitement of the night began to fade, and he couldn’t help but think—he’d probably never see her again.
Y/N looked behind, her gaze following Clark as he walked out of the shop. Her eyes lingered on his tall figure and dark hair—he looked like a soft song, something out of Fleetwood Mac's Dreams or maybe Tears for Fears' Head Over Heels.
Her heart was pounding, maybe from the adrenaline still coursing through her after the performance. Or maybe it was the memory of those ocean-blue eyes.
🖤
The weekend passed, and Monday arrived all too quickly. For some students, it was just another Monday. Clark hadn’t expected to see Y/N again. Hell, he didn’t even know her name or who she was, but a part of him felt like he’d known her forever. Maybe it was the music that surrounded her—the way it made her seem like someone whose story everyone somehow already knew.
He’d thought about her all weekend.
Her song was stuck in his head, just like the memory of those purple lights that seemed to reflect her presence.
But another thought kept creeping in—he’d probably never see her again. She sounded like she came from New York; maybe it had been just a visit. What kind of girl like that would live in Smallville? She seemed like she belonged in a vinyl shop, or in some city where she was constantly surrounded by music.
Yet, as he walked down the hallway of Smallville High, he saw her.
Y/N was leaning against a locker, laughing and talking with Theodore. Her bright smile seemed to light up the entire hallway, and for a moment, Clark felt the world slow down.
He didn’t know what was happening to him. Sure, he’d been shy around Lana earlier that school year, but this was different. He didn’t even know Y/N—he’d only met her eyes across a crowded room. And yet, here he was, feeling… weird.
When their eyes met again, Y/N smiled, a mix of recognition and curiosity. She nudged Theodore and pointed in Clark’s direction.
“That’s the guy from the other two people who congratulated us—Friday night!” she said.
Theodore glanced over his shoulder, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sis, a lot of people talked to us that night. I barely even remember the girl who gave me her number.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and walked away from her brother, heading straight toward Clark. His steps slowed, but his heart raced faster with every second.
“Hey, aren’t you the guy from the Talon—Friday night?” she asked with a warm smile as she approached him.
Clark blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Clark. Clark Kent.”
“Y/N,” she said, extending her hand. Her handshake was firm, confident. “So, do you go to every show, or was Friday just a lucky coincidence?”
“I don’t usually go to shows,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But maybe… I’ll consider going to more.”
Y/N grinned, her expression easy and relaxed. Something about her grounded him, helping him find his footing. She was tilting her head slightly as if studying him. “You don’t seem like the ‘crowded coffee shop’ type. What pulled you in? Was it the music, or did someone drag you there?”
Clark chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Chloe and Pete—they kind of insisted. Said I needed to ‘get out more.’”
“Sounds like good friends,” she said with a laugh. “It were the two that I talked to— right?”
“Yeah—- they loved it seriously,” Clark admitted. “And I… well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” His words came out more honest than he’d intended, and he quickly added, “The music, I mean. You were amazing up there.”
Her expression softened, a touch of surprise flickering in her eyes. “Thanks. That means a lot.” She paused, glancing at him curiously. “So, what do you do? Besides getting dragged to coffee shops by your friends, I mean.”
“Mostly farm stuff,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of shyness. “My family has a farm just outside of town.”
“That explains the whole ‘rugged, mysterious’ thing you’ve got going on,” Y/N teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby locker.
Clark laughed, a little flustered. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me mysterious before.”
“Well, there’s a first for everything,” she said with a playful shrug. Then her tone shifted, becoming more sincere.
Clark smiled and looks at her. ,,And— the guy with the drums was your boyfriend or..?” he said curiously— of course he didn’t want to build up some hopes but, why not asking right?
Her smile widened, and she glanced back toward Theodore, who was still leaning against the lockers, pretending not to listen.
“Well— definitely not. His name is Theodore and he is my older brother. He shares the same passion like me— he is more into sex pistols and I am more into the smiths. But music’s always been my thing. It’s��� kind of like home, no matter where I am.” she started to ramble— she was quite a talker.
Clark nodded and found that adorable of how she got into a conversation flow. “That makes sense. You looked like you belonged up there.”
Y/N looked at him for a moment, her gaze softening. “Thanks, Clark. Really.” Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “So, are you going to stick with the ‘guy who never goes to shows’ routine, or are you thinking about breaking that streak?”
He smiled, shifting his weight slightly. “I guess that depends. Are you playing again soon?”
“Maybe,” she said, clearly enjoying the game. “Guess you’ll have to keep an eye out.”
Clark nodded, his shyness melting away as her energy pulled him in. “I’ll do that.”
“Good,” she said with a soft smile. “See you around, Clark Kent.”
And with that, she turned back to Theodore, leaving Clark standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling like the world had shifted just slightly under his feet.
As he watched her walk away, Pete and Chloe appeared at his side, both smirking.
“Smooth, Clark,” Pete teased. “Real smooth.”
Chloe grinned. “So, is this where we start dragging you to more coffee shop gigs?”
Clark didn’t answer. His gaze was still fixed on Y/N, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Maybe you should.”
🖤 i hope u guys enjoyed! and stream APT by my girl rosé
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airandyeah · 3 days ago
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By The Beach Merman Nanami X Reader pt.9
My Masterlist for more chapters Here is the Spotify Playlist There is a song in the playlist a lot of people dislike the band who sings it, so please just bare with me. It will either appear next chapter or the bonus chapter! THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR READING! LOVE YOU ALL!!!
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After a long argument, that left the sea-witch, Toji, tied to a chair and gagged, Megumi, his son, was attempting to help Kento. "So, the original agreement was this shit right?" Megumi asked, holding up the signed parchment. "Yes", Kento responds curtly, eyeing Toji who has finally stopped fussing around in his restraints. "I can work with this", Megumi tells him, as the paper disintegrates. "See, that woman may have loved you. Loved you more than life itself even. But you didn't read the fine print. Look here". Megumi points to a clause in different lettering near the bottom of the sheet, stating that even in a moment of doubt, Kento would turn back. Kento scoffs in displeasure at the finding, again glaring at the tied witch. "Anyways, i can just do thisss", Megumi speak aloud as he nabs a new parchment, an old sea shell, and small empty container. "Take this." He hands Kento the shell. "Sea witch deals have to be a sort of exchange. So here. I'll turn you human, however. You must keep this shell with you, and return it into the water after you've... Married the woman. That's the condition.", Megumi explains. "That's... very simple and considerate... why so easy and simple?" Kento asks, skeptical. "I told you, I wanna piss the fucker off", he shoots another glare at Toji who muffles curses into his make-shift gag. If you were church, I'd get on my knees Confess my love, I'd know where to be My sanctuary, you're holy to me If you were church, I'd get on my knees "Thank you." Kento takes the shell from him, as he fills the vile with liquid magic and uses the pen to scrawl across the paper. "Just sign and you can go." Megumi tells him, and he does. I'd get on my knees I'd get on my knees I'd get on my knees He feels magic wash over him as his body changes into the one he has grown familiar with, and everything moves fast as he is thrust to the shores of the beach. If you were church, yeah, I'd get on my knees Confess my love, I'd know where to be My sanctuary, you're holy to me If you were church, yeah, I'd get on my knees He thought of you, thought of how he would speak with you again. How much he loves you, and would help wash away your doubt. About how he would ask you to be his forever, and join human society. If you were church, I'd get on my knees Confess my love, I'd know where to be My sanctuary, you're holy to me, you're holy to me If you were church, yeah, I'd get on my knees, yeah ~~~ Here you are, soaking your toes in the water, your face unreadable. You see it. You see something moving. Moving fast, and before you can think, you're knocked to the ground by a man who flew from the water, Kento. "Ken?", you rasp, not only from your throat being scratchy after tears and tears, but also because your huge boyfriend is dead weight ontop of you. Kissed that first night, and then the rain opened up the sky to get... One last kiss Kento scrambled to get off you, and you both sat up to look at each other. You thought you couldn't cry anymore, but the tears came. Like the waves came, by the beach. I love you like an alcoholic Kento was crying too, as he embraced you tightly. You kept crying while he mumbled apologies. It took a while before he explained everything, but you just kept sobbing into his chest. Glad he is back. Glad the man you love, is with you. One last kiss I love you like an alcoholic One last kiss I love you like a negligee One last kiss I need you like I need a broken leg You kissed him hard and he kissed you back, his arms wrapping even more tightly around you. You loved each other, you love each other so much.
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Taglist: @kiel-luvsripples
Only 1 more official chapter! Then there will be a bonus one.
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ninjigma · 1 year ago
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Obi-Bun Scene - 'Darkness on Umbara' Track: 'Hell or High Water' - The Rescues (Spotify / YouTube)
I apparently was not going to know peace until I made this, so, a little over 8 hours later, we have it, for better or worse. Started as "Wow I love this scene I am writing" and then "Oh, why not warm up with a different art style then usual?" and then... A scene from an AU where Obi-Wan is turned into a rabbit. Yes, you heard that right, and yes, it has turned into a full blown, in depth, I have six chapters roughly written already AU. And the Umbara arc is just as important in this world as any other, so it deserves some spotlight and I was just plain obsessed with this image in my mind, literally crawled its way out of my soul so I couldn't finish anything else today, which I won't say unfortunately because I actually love it.
Enjoy!
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puppyeared · 8 months ago
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littlest furth shop
@laikascomet
#i think i had a little too much fun with this lol#i also wanted to draw road boy and other characters but maybe when they actually get introduced#i do have a sketch of him with a lil chainsaw.. im not gonna be normal when he gets introduced man he looks so sillygoofy#if you squint laika's eye marking is a clover yue's is a crescent moon and mars' is a star ^_^#i wanted to give laika an accessory too but i couldnt think of anything.. maybe a stack of pancakes??#im curious to see the apocalypse side of the story too.. like so far we have an idea of the comet fucking everything up#and im assuming that lead to a ripple effect causing the apocalypse but exactly how bad?? i cant wait to find out#rn im kinda piecing stuff together.. larkspur delivers mail in a beat up van so that might mean all transportation is grounded#the buildings we've seen so far are intact like the observatory and turnip's house but idk if thats the same for big cities#laikas playlist only includes songs downloaded on yue's computer and there hasnt been internet in 20 years.. but radio signals might#still work.. if yue grows his own food we can assume that mass production and distribution also isnt a thing anymore#sorry im a sucker for worldbuilding.. and the furth puns are fun to me. i like to think toronto would be clawronto.. and vancouver wld#be nyancouver.. barktic circle.. mewfoundland and labrador.. canyada....#christ i have so many drawing ideas. willow if youre reading this im so sorry youre probably gonna expect to see a lot of drawings frm me#like. i wanna draw laika in the akira bike pose so sosososo bad. IT WOULD BE SO AWESOMECOOL. ill teach myself to draw bikes if i have to#i also wanted to animate laika leekspin.. man#my art#myart#fanart#laika's comet#laikas comet#laika#mars#yue#furry art#fur#littlest pet shop#lps
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sysig · 11 months ago
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I think the world is so wonderful... (Patreon)
#My art#Handplates#UT#Papyrus#I have not been able to get this idea out of my head for like - days now lol#It's only solidified the more I read! Heck!!#I dunno if I was necessarily hoping that reading further would point me in another direction but no now this is one of his songs lol#I really like Rugrats Theory actually :) The song of course it's lovely but I even have some nostalgia for the creepypasta haha#Been a while since I read it tho so that's probably just the soft haze of memory talking lol#But the song is still great! I'm partial to the English cover but I like the original as well :)#There are just so many fun lyrics! Especially for Papyrus specifically#''Everything I've been told I believe and yet people that I love just leave'' Gasterrr#''I think I'm old enough to understand so there's no reason to hide from me'' Sanssssssss#Once I returned to the scene of Sans trying to lie to him I just fjdslahfd these lyrics would Not leave me alone lol#I'm also Extremely partial to the second verse surrounding blindness and willful ignorance - his vision problems literal and metaphorical!#I wasn't planning to start a Handplates playlist but I guess by this point it's kinda too late haha#I also tried a different style of shading for this one ♪ Trying to style match a bit hehe#It's fun! Scratchy - tho some of that is from still using my usual brushes lol#I was Very inspired by watching the comic creation playlist - so cool! Very fun to watch and pick up ideas hehe#I knew I forgot something lol dang it - forgot the dash between WDG-2#S'what I get for using pre-plates references :P#For just a quick little thing I'm fairly pleased overall tho :)
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chirpsythismorning · 30 days ago
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Yeah a teaser dropping on ST day would be cool. But can we agree that a DNA board reveal would be infinitely better?
#byler#stranger things#st5 predictions#st5 dna board#yes I know a dna board reveal doesn’t qualify as like major promo since most fans want something visual and real#and so it’s likely we’ll get a teaser regardless#which is great#but I’m just imagining the rest of the day being subpar in terms of stuff for us to actually analyze outside of the teaser#they released the s4 dna board during lockdown and a couple months before they even finished writing it#so s5’s board is definitely finalized by now#and it would cost them nothing…#well i mean technically it could cost them everything 😭#it’s just a matter of how on the nose they were about some of the titles it features#and if they’re willing to risk sharing that at this time when there’s still a year until release#i could see a decent amount of films on it being incriminating on so many different fronts#but I could also see some super random stuff in the mix that would distract people from reading into the incriminating stuff#it’s just something that could actually keep us busy analyzing for a while#a teaser would be everything we need rn#but the dna list is what I actually want 😭#i’ve been working on my own st5 dna board wishlist bc I’m so impatient for this#i’m gonna post it tomorrow#it’s time#and in the case they do reveal the dna board next week I want to have mine ready to see if there are any matches#i’ve also been working on my st5vision playlist for nearly 2 years now (jesus) and it’s time to share that too#soon!!
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