#i didn't expect to get more than like 3 in my inbox and I also got so goddamn busy irl ksjdhfklsjdfh

[chocosvt]

ghost ride | part four.

✧✎ synopsis: post-graduate, your life sucks especially hard. two jobs, a lazy roommate, and an imperceptible social life have dulled you to grey. nothing seems like it's going to change. until your roommate decides to let her plug crash at your place, and you're bribed into a strange adventure that challenges everything you thought you were.

pairing: fem!reader x vernon chapter word count: 25k full length word count: 186k genres/tropes: drug dealer!vernon, reader is a post-grad w/ a flop degree lol, inclusion of OCs, gay!soonyoung for the lol, appearances from other svt characters, opposites attract, romance, teasinggg, tensionnn, unrequited love, angst, adventure, smut, relationship drama, sprinkling of comedy, another excruciating slowburn bc what else? + reader is a tad dramatic/sensitive but that's why i love her :]

(!) warnings: drugs (IE: weed, molly, coke, whippets, alcohol), mention of guns, mention of death/overdose, intense language, an instance of non-consensual touching to the reader by a side character, some toxic & possessive behaviour, degrading, aggression, mentions of physical abuse/harm, dips into grief and loss, fractured family dynamics on vernon's part.

✧✎ a/n: a bit of an earlier upload since i have work in the morning :( but when you finish this part it means we are officially more than halfway through the series! that is kraziness.

thank you again for all the kind comments & reblogs <3 i didn't expect many ppl to actually get into this fic bc of its length and subject matter so i'm glad there are readers willing to take the journey with me teehee.

also, i rly do encourage yall to check out ghana's many hopes. they do AMAZING things for young girls rescued from trafficking! they get to learn skillsets and have opportunities to build support systems!

what to note:

there are seven parts in the series

releases are weekly, ~12am EST, sunday!

inspo playlist!

if at any point you want on or off the taglist, comment/inbox/msg me!

additionally, the chapters/parts are lengthy. the first six parts are between 24-27k while the finale/ending is 30k+!

✎ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

PS: please note that i block contentless blogs who like my posts!

THIS WEEK: Let's Help Ghana's Many Hopes!

leave a comment or make a reblog stating something you enjoyed abt the chapter! at the end of the week, i will tally all legitimate comments/reblogs and make a donation to said organization.

IE: this chapter gets 15 comments, 25 reblogs - i donate 40$! pls note that i am a uni student living away from home so i will vary my donations accordingly to my financial situation at the time <3

You stopped by the apartment to grab a few things. After leaving the pastry behind in the fridge for Ruby, you shoved pyjamas into your knapsack—checkered bottoms and the pony t-shirt, as you had been coming to the end of your clothes—and some skincare from the washroom.

It didn’t take as long as you remembered to reach Vernon’s place.

The small, frisky dog with cataracts was barking at you two, scratching against the shutters, just like last time. Someone had finally fixed the broken doorway, replacing the wooden board with glass. You repeated the same tiresome trek up the winding staircase until reaching the fourth floor, where you released an audible breath of repose upon entering his cozy bachelor. No plain grey walls, no stiffness, no apprehension.

“Do you mind texting Ruby?” You sighed, handing Vernon your phone. “She’s asking about what happened. Just tell her I’ll explain everything tomorrow, and not to worry too much.” It was torturous to open your messages and see Lee’s unopened notifications pleading at you. “It is okay if I use your bathroom for a second? To change and wash up?”

Vernon looked down at your phone, then back at you. “Sure.”

The washroom wasn’t in great shape, but it was still better than what you imagined—at least for someone who was hardly there to clean it.

Most of the damage didn’t seem like Vernon’s fault, but rather the cheap costliness pertaining to the landlord. A crappy patch job in the shower, chips in the porcelain sink, peeling, faded wallpaper beginning to curl from the corners.

You set your knapsack down on the toilet, unzipped it, and pulled out your face product, which you soaked onto a cotton pad. Staring yourself down in the water-stained mirror, underneath the ghostly sterileness of the washroom’s pale lighting, you began wiping off all the dried tears and grime that stippled your skin. Every swipe of the cotton pad only made you focus with more intensity on yourself, until you felt so unbelievably and wildly unattractive that you couldn’t bear to stare into the mirror any longer.

With an exhausted sniffle, you unbuttoned your jeans. One leg at a time, you kicked them off, before removing the shirt overtop your head, tossing your bra onto the clothes you left bunched on the floor. Before you could catch a glimpse of your bare body in the mirror, every little detail under the light’s harsh dissection, you quickly jumped into your pyjama bottoms and wrestled on the loose t-shirt to unaesthetically match.

A deep breath before going back out to face Vernon.

He was lounging on the futon. You dropped your knapsack onto the coffee table, gave him a queasy, weak smile, and collapsed next to him.

Vernon tilted his head toward you. “Need anything? Water? There isn’t much in the fridge and I’m a shitty fuckin’ cook, but I can make a pretty gnarly grilled cheese. Takeout is fine, too. The world’s your… uh… oyster.”

But you shook your head. “I’m fine.”

He then held out your phone, which you dropped into your bag. You didn't want to read anything. You didn't want to know anything.

“I told Ruby what you said,” Vernon mumbled. “She responded a few times. Didn’t read it.” He proceeded to shrug. “Well, didn’t answer it.”

“I’ll set aside some time to text her tonight.”

He nodded, looking out the apartment window for a moment or two before Vernon turned his attention back to you. There was a reluctance in his expression, a withdrawal, like he desperately wanted to ask but felt tentative in case his queries were too intruding. You appreciated his sensitivity. His eyes flicked you up and down a few times in thought.

And then he pulled the trigger. “So? I get to know anything?”

You were curled up closer to him than usual, your cheek just barely grazing the boy’s shoulder. It was solacing to feel his heat, smell the outdoors on his clothes, the tinges of flavoured smoke. Your body untied itself.

Then, you were drawing in a long, long breath. “I tried breaking up with Lee…” you started, speaking quietly, “and it turned to… shit.”

No antagonizing remarks. No comical digs. He stayed silent.

“I didn’t expect it to be that hard. He was being so nice to me the second I stepped in the door. I just… couldn’t get the words out, y’know? It was torture.” Pulling your knees closer into your chest, you stared down at the open space of Vernon’s lap, his strong thighs. “Once he was done his homework, he came right next to me on the bed…” it was suddenly harder to speak, your throat automatically tightening up. “I was so stupidly nervous that I couldn’t articulate enough. Lee started kissing me… on my neck… he started moving his hand down my shirt…” your eyes began to sting again, blurring your vision into a cloudy vignette. “He tried to touch me, you know, in between my legs,” you breathed out in a trembly voice, “but I got too scared and stopped it. It’s like he was completely missing the signals I was giving. He was like, pulling me back down onto the bed and I freaked out even more. I had to leave. I couldn’t—I felt like I was on fire—like he was trying to trap me. I-I don’t know. It was all so quick.”

You started looking around for a tissue box.

Vernon reached underneath the coffee table to grab you one.

Pulling out two tissues, you fought to capture a structured breath, taking a moment to dry your eyes and blow your nose. “Then…” you huffed, skin irritated and wet, “I couldn’t help but think it was my fault, y’know? That I should have been upfront. I’ve just been so nervous and uncomfortable about intimacy with him. I don’t know why. But… maybe if I was more vocal, he would have understood, and, like…” bringing another tissue to your face, you blotted up the tears, sniffling louder and louder. “I just feel like, so useless. So dumb.” Blinking at the crumpled tissue squeezed into the flesh of your sore hand, you wanted to shrink, to disappear, as the embarrassment flushed through you.

Vernon shook his head. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

You nodded. “I-I know. It’s just hard not to think that way…”

“No, PJ’s, look at me.” Vernon angled himself on the futon so he could face you more intimately, capturing your fullest attention, until the brilliant rings of his earthen irises were all you could gauge. “What he did was completely not your fault. There’s no excuse for it. Someone who actually has your best interests at heart is not gonna treat you like that,” he reaffirmed you, his tone much more serious, unnegotiable. “He was countin’ on your discomfort to keep you quiet, so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He wasn’t bein’ oblivious, or missin’ your signals. Bet he knew what was comin’ and figured gettin’ inside you could change your mind. That’s real slimy fuckin’ behaviour. I should kill him for that. But you stood up for yourself, right? And even if you didn’t, it still wouldn’t be your fault.” Vernon reached his arm around you, rubbing up and down your shoulder as his firm reassurance only sparked another onslaught of waterworks.

“I’m sorry,” you spluttered, piling all your used tissues onto the coffee table before pulling the collar of your t-shirt up against your cheek, letting it absorb all the dampness. “I’m such a mess.”

“Fuck that,” Vernon laughed, pulling you closer into him. “You can be a mess when you’re with me, yeah? You really think I give a fuck?”

A smile broke through your lips. “N-No.”

“Exactly.” He nudged his nose against your hair. “I’ve been around you enough to know how dramatic you are. Usually you’re dramatic about shit that doesn’t matter,” Vernon chuckled. “But I like it.”

Your head slid into the crook underneath his chin. “So, I’m being perfectly dramatic about this. Is that what you’re saying?” You teased.

“Hey, you be the master of your emotions, alright? Don’t let anyone else dictate anything without good reason.”

“How are you so randomly eloquent and insightful?” You let out a half-hearted giggle, snuggling your face in closer to his neck. That’s where his cologne was most concentrated. Rich amber filled your nose and floated to the centre of your head.

The backs of Vernon’s fingers stopped at your elbow. After what felt like an oddly long pause, he rubbed his nose and chuckled, “dunno.”

Silence followed, soft enough to touch.

And you couldn’t have embraced it more.

Closeness with Vernon felt so easy that you wondered why you ever bothered grasping at straws when it came to Lee. The way you slotted against his side was like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. His calloused fingertips drifting along your bare arm was equal parts soothing and arousing. Having the weight of his chin rested on your head made you feel so protected, as though nothing in the world could reach you. With his other arm lax in his lap, you took the opportunity to meet your fingertip with a vein underneath his prettily inked skin, which you proceeded to trace until it disappeared into the elbow's crook. His shifted his hips as you touched him and nothing had ever made you want to jump across his thighs more.

Swallowing, you retracted your hand. “Was it good?”

Vernon casted back his hair, humming. “What?”

You repeated yourself, more audibly this time. “Was it good?”

 “Was what good?”

Biting your lip, you eventually came to murmur, “the head?”

“Oh,” Vernon laughed, snorting. “Uh, fuck, it was fine.”

You stared up at him through your lashes. “Is she a friend?”

There was a prominent stiffness to his rising adam’s apple, sharp against his throat, like an arrowhead. “Not really. I know her name, where I met her, and that she fucks heavy with ketamine. But she’s not that nice around the privates, you feel? I try to tell her what I like but she just fuckin’ operates my dick like she’s drivin’ a damn stick,” Vernon chuckled, shrugging. “You’re easy priority over that.”

Looking back down, you smiled. “I guess that’s nice to know.”

“Shit—even if it was the best fuckin’ brain I ever got—I still would have come got you,” Vernon asserted, slipping his hand underneath your arm, his fingers pressing deep into your ribs. “Lucky you, huh?”

You nodded, adjusting the knees against your chest.

Vernon cleared his throat. “Why don’t I throw on a movie?”

“Okay,” you obliged. “What kind?”

“Let’s look on my Netflix—well—not mine. I’ve been bummin’ off the dude who lives underneath me. But I give him mint weed. So it’s fair.”

He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on his flat-screen television, which took a moment to start up. You assumed he didn’t use it much as you both watched the spinning loading circle.

Vernon smirked. “Is it really comfy to sit like that?”

You frowned. “Like what?”

“With your knees against your chest. You always sit like that. Why don’t you spread out more?” He offered. “Put your legs across my lap.”

A weight hit your throat. “Are you sure?”

“No, I gave you that option so I could take it back three fuckin’ seconds after I said it,” he sighed, chuckling. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Naturally, you obeyed, untucking your legs and resting them across the boy’s thighs. He was right. It felt way more leisurely.

“Why don’t you pick the movie? Show me one of your favourites.”

While you operated the remote, Vernon had his palm lying flat against your knee. The smile that shot to your face was immediate, unbridled twitches dancing in your cheeks, though you attempted to hide it. Whenever he touched you, no matter how faint, it set off unstoppable fireworks from the base of your abdomen, fulgurant and hot and sizzling with desire that was near impossible to quench.

“There,” you sniffed. “Wall-E.”

“Oh, that’s a banger. I haven’t seen it in ages.”

You grinned into his neck. “Then you’ll love it even more.”

It was difficult not to fall asleep as the movie played.

The apartment grew dimmer and dimmer over the hour, with the sun setting outside, pulling all the baby blue out from the winter sky until it was an unsaturated cloth. Your head was in such a comfortable position, cradled against Vernon’s shoulder, and you had only curled up more such that you were a ball half-supported in his lap. His body heat was pulling down your eyelids and the strokes of his hand along your thigh’s underside was so lulling. You didn’t even realize the movie had ended. It was Vernon’s fingers tenderly brushing the hair from your face that rekindled your senses, and you began to stretch, watching the film’s credits through the apartment’s hazy darkness.

“It’s over?” You yawned.

Vernon laughed. “It’s been over.”

“Oh…” you blinked, still wearing off your brain fog. “Why didn’t you wake me up for my favourite part?! When Eve gets Wall-E to remember everything! And they hold hands! It always makes me cry in happiness!”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to know that?”

You ignored him, falling back against his shoulder. Staring out the wide windows, gazing across the last embers of sunlight buried far against the horizon, you sighed, “that’s my absolute favourite part…”

Vernon picked up the remote. “I can go back.”

“No, it won’t be the same.”

“Don’t fall asleep then.”

“Uh? Wake me up then?” You retorted. “Dumbass.”

“Aren’t you gettin’ all relaxed with the language?” He snickered, rubbing his thumb to your thigh in such a way that you nearly purred. “I’ve never heard you drop so many swears. Should I call your mom?”

“Hey—I’ve had an awful day—I can drop all the swears I want.”

“M’kay, fair.”

Your eyes stilled on the empty fish tank that caught your curiosity when you first visited. It seemed like it had been sitting on the shelf for months. The glass was cloudy, uncleaned, with some tubes left curled up against the bottom. If it never belonged to Vernon, you couldn’t help but wonder who. Maybe the presumed sister shown in the photo frame on his nightstand. The tank was large, likely fitting a decent number of fish. It must have required a notable deal of commitment and responsibility. Vernon hadn’t spared much information when you originally asked him, though you were tempted to ask again, even if it got you nowhere.

“If the tank isn’t yours, then whose is it?”

He chuckled. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Is it a secret?”

“Not… exactly…” Vernon answered, sounding hesitant. “It just belonged to someone who was really important to me, y’know?”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He breathed out for a moment, and you could feel the shallowing of his broad chest underneath your hand. There was a subtle increase in his heartbeat, each thud gentle but quickened. “I’ll show you something, actually,” Vernon said. “But you gotta move.”

You smiled, shuffling away from his heat. “Sure.”

Vernon got up from the futon. He turned on a light belonging to a ceiling fan above his bed, then approached one of the drawers on his dresser and started rifling around through its unorganized contents.

Oh my gosh, it’s happening! It’s happening! You were shrieking inside your head, jumping up and down like you’d just won an insane lottery.

He’s actually going to show me something personal!

He trusts me! He’s opening up!

As he sunk back into the futon, you noticed that Vernon had a few photographs in his hand. They looked like polaroid images based on the fuzziness and white-cast. You straightened up, practically vibrating with anticipation, while he arranged them a certain way.

“So, for context’s sake: this dude was my best friend for years. I met him when I was sixteen. He was nineteen, at the time. You could call it a double-edged knife—” (sword, you thought), “—but he showed me everything I know. When it felt like no one else gave a fuck about me, if I lived or died, he was, like, the hand on my shoulder, y’know?” At last, he gave you one of the glossy polaroid images. It was taken on a concrete staircase belonging to an aged-looking brick house. Vernon was on the right, dressed in his thick bomber jacket and throwing up a peace sign. The young man beside him wore a dark green windbreaker. His complexion was much tanner than Vernon’s, his rusty hair slicked back and a cigarette loosely hanging from the corner of his mouth. You stared at the stranger intently, bringing the photograph closer to your face. Vernon sighed. “That’s him.”

“What’s his name?” You wondered.

“Everyone called him Dots.”

“A nickname?”

“Yeah,” Vernon said, nodding. “It’s hard to tell in that picture, but his cheeks, across his nose, was all covered in freckles. Y’know, dots.” He began to laugh as his eyes roamed the other image in his hand. “Girls fuckin’ loved that. It was the first thing they’d compliment—your freckles are so pretty—and he was always so polite. But his real name was Paulo—the other guy that Minghao asked you about.”

Vernon passed you another fuzzy polaroid, though he didn’t feature in the shot this time. His friend occupied the image, likely taken at a house party judging from the bedazzled strangers frozen in time behind him. He was wearing glittery New Year’s Eve glasses shaped just like the number, a red solo cup in one hand, a smoking cigar packed with herb in the other. There was something so irritatingly familiar about Vernon’s friend. It was akin to an itch you just couldn’t scratch, no matter how hard you stretched.

“Yeah…” Vernon hummed, “he was a sweet guy. Pretty mellow, actually. Not that into parties, clubs. He had a lot of interests, too. That fish tank was one of ‘em. He kept all kinds of shit in there. Snails, little shrimps, all these fishies whose names I can’t fuckin’ remember. He liked to read books a lot. He even showed me how to press flowers one time when we got bored in the summer—no clue where the fuck he learned how to do that—he just kinda knew stuff.”

You laughed. “Probably from all his books.”

Vernon nodded. “Good point.”

“So… he does what you do?”

“Kinda. When I first met him, he was just a dealer. But he knew all the right people. And he was super charismatic. So it was easy for him the climb the ranks and get the right promotions. Instead of pullin’ the shots, he was callin’ them, y’know?” Vernon let the last photograph slip into your hand, which you brought close to your inspection. “He was more of a distributor. He got people to move product. I did that for him. At one point I wanted to be more, but he told me it wasn’t worth it. Low profile is better in the long run. Especially if you want to get out. Makes it way easier.”

It wasn’t a polaroid image.

The detail was much crisper, with a full spectrum of vivid colour. You recognized the Camry. The two boys were sitting atop its hood, rough sneakers on the silver bumper (then, without a spot of rust), elbows weighted against their knees. Vernon was in his cherished bomber while his friend wore a jacket, green-checkered fleece. Without the polaroid glare, you could see all the details of his freckled face, from the big, dark brown eyes to the piercing in his dimple.

You knew him.

You had seen him before.

“That shitty car I drive,” he snorted, “that used to be his. But he sold it to me for a cheap buck. I always wondered why. That car went everywhere he went. Sentimental type shit. I was honoured, though.”

“Vernon.”

“Yeah?”

Looking at him, your eyes widened. “I met your friend, Dots.”

His forehead was quick to wrinkle. “Really? No bullshit?”

You cast through the photos again, your certainty only becoming stronger, the memories crawling out from the deepest recesses of your mind like the dead unearthing from tombs. “He came to Mr. York’s, I think over a year ago,” you started explaining. “I was newer, having a super hard night… I thought he was gonna be another customer to shove me around but he was sweet. He even… drove me home.” The memory was uncompletely unthawed. Everything rushed back to you: missing the bus, chasing after him down the dewy street, getting into the car, feeling nervous but relieved. There was a softness about him that you had never experienced from anyone else, a certain trustworthiness that sat so right in your gut. “I remembered asking for his name, too. He didn’t tell me.”

“Shit—he drove you home?” Vernon was astonished, immediately pressing for more information. “When was this again?”

“Over a year ago. Not this recent fall, but the one before it.”

“At… where?”

“Mr. York’s,” you laughed. “Where I work, as a server.”

“Oh, fuck. Right.”

“I never saw him again,” you admitted, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with forlorn. How funny that one encounter with a complete stranger could evoke such powerful yearning, as though he had been a dear friend, someone like Diana. You supposed it was the unexplored possibility of everything ahead, a road never taken, a bridge never crossed. Lives skimming by but never blending.

“That’s crazy as fuck,” Vernon rasped, dragging a hand through his loose, shiny hair, grinning formidably bright. “You and Dotsy, huh?”

“Wow—you have a nickname for his nickname?”

“Of course.” His hands fell back into his lap. Vernon started prodding at the cuticle of his thumb. “It makes sense, though.”

You looked between the photographs again. “What makes sense?”

“Why he drove you home.” Vernon sunk lower into the futon, spreading out his legs and folding his arms, running the tip of his tongue along his teeth. “He liked shy, awkward, weird girls like you."

“Gee,” you coughed. “Thanks, I guess.”

He grabbed your knee and shook it. “It’s a good thing. I think people like that feel the sincerest, right? It’s not an act. That’s just how they are. They can’t help it.”

You pursed your lip, appreciating the nuance of the idea, and the comfort it harboured. “Maybe… I never thought about it like that.” At last, you set the three photographs onto the coffee table, leaving the particular polaroid of the two boys relaxed against the concrete stoop on top, and joined Vernon in leaning back into the futon. Rubbing your lips, you thought for a moment. “Are you guys still friends?”

Vernon tilted his head at you, laughed heartily. “He’s dead.”

“O-Oh…” you stuttered, frowning. “I’m so sorry.”

But he casually dismissed your sympathy. “No need to apologize.”

“That’s really upsetting,” you sighed, grabbing onto your ankles. “I would have loved to know him better. I mean, he seemed so kind.”

“He was. He did his job well, but he never should have been there. I’m sure you two would have got on well. I mean, already seemed like it.”

Your smile beamed at him, like a gleaming rainbow.

Fiddling with the collar of your sock, you wavered on whether or not to ask about the gloomy specifics. The smile began to drift from your countenance, replaced by teeth nervously chewing your lip. “Am I allowed to ask how he passed? You don't have to tell me.”

“Overdose,” Vernon answered. “Gruesome stuff.”

He didn’t mention if it was accidental or not.

Either way, you sensed the distant hurt underneath his firm tone.

Picking up the photographs, Vernon took them to the privacy of his dresser, setting them down into the cabinet space with gentleness, as though he were handling a delicate flower bouquet. “Talk later, Dotsy,” he lilted before shutting the drawer. “Miss you every day.”

You were woken up much earlier than preferred by the daylight glaring in through the windows. At first, you assumed you were in your own bedroom, where you almost always kept the curtains shut because your view was a parking lot. Hence your confusion to pull the covers off your face and realize there was a ceiling fan directly above you, in addition to a series of posters against the wall that definitely weren’t yours. Shuffling to sit upright, you saw Vernon sprawled across the futon with a grey blanket half-pooled onto the floor, exactly where you had left him the night before.

He was holding a phone above his face, thumbs tapping away, rogue bits of hair sticking straight up. It was unbelievably strange to awaken in a bed that wasn’t yours. At least it was a Sunday.

You had nowhere to be.

Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you yawned. “Morning.”

Vernon poked his head up. “Oh—you’re awake. Sleep alright?”

While adjusting the blankets in your lap, you nodded, glancing around the apartment and noticing how subtly the morning light impacted its appearance. Everything felt cooler, softer. “Yeah… I think I conked right out, to be honest.” You grabbed your phone, making a quick pitstop of your messages. The notification to Lee’s had disappeared. Ruby had texted you a few times around midnight. “Have you been up long?”

He shrugged, guesstimating. “Uh, maybe an hour?”

“I can’t believe you’re an early-riser. It doesn’t fit you at all.”

“Why?” The boy snickered, continuing to dawdle on his phone, throwing his leg over the back of the futon. “You think I’m lazy? That us drug dealers just mooch around all day, stoned and fuckin’ brainless?”

“Well, you don’t have the best portrayals through media.”

Finally, he slapped his phone down. “I’m glad I can be a little science experiment to you. Contact with the specimen is critical, huh?”

Your eyes rolled, and you reached for the water glass that Vernon left you atop his nightstand, taking a brief gulp. Most of his glasses were dusty, but the water tasted pure. “I wonder if the specimen will prove his productive nature by making breakfast? Science has to know.”

Vernon pushed himself to sit up, tossing the blanket off his legs.

He ruffled a hand through his fuzzy bedhead, attempting to calm the hectic tangles but somehow only making them worse. “Is that your fancy-smancy way of askin’ me to make you a meal? You’re a demandin’ scientist.”

“Science is always demanding. It’s serious stuff.”

Grinning, you watched Vernon lethargically drag himself over to the kitchenette, pulling out a frying pan from one of the cabinets that he clanged onto the stove. He made you a grilled cheese, paired with orange juice and a vanilla yogurt that you double-checked the expiry date on, the ensemble served to you in bed, with a dramatic bow from Vernon and the flap of the kitchen towel landing over his shoulder. “There you go, Miss. Is it to your utmost liking?” He asked in a quaint, smooth British accent, attempting to mimic a natural poshness.

“It is,” you answered. “Your productivity has been noted.”

Vernon didn’t at all rush you through breakfast, though you suspected he had somewhere to be judging from the change of clothes and quick self-pampering in the washroom. He plopped himself back down on the futon after fixing his whirlwind hair and brushing his teeth. “Mintiness is next to godliness or whatever the fuck,” he had said, sticking a Listerine strip on his tongue.

He drove you home about an hour later.

It was the worst car ride of your life—not that it was actually terrible in any sense—but chiefly because it meant your night with him was over, long gone, flicked away to the ephemeral past. He had been so supportive, so reassuring, so polite, more than you could have expected. You never would have thought those qualities of Vernon when you first met him back in the fall, though time and trust had eased you two closer, and in the process, your understanding became enriched. He was stubbornly himself in ways that others could never grasp or accept, not that it mattered to him.

The good, the bad—it wasn’t separate—but an interwoven whole.

As the car stalled outside the curb to your apartment, you gave the boy an earnest, appreciative smile. “Thank you, Vernon. Seriously.”

“All good.” He shrugged. “Talk later, PJ’s.”

Your heart was heavy, watching him pull away, disappear into whatever venture awaited him next. It felt like your connection was a thread that tied you two together, and whenever he left, the thread was unraveling, being pulled, aching at the strain of your accumulating distance.

Entering the apartment, you jammed to a holt upon noticing Ruby sat on the sofa, arms folded crossly. She was clad in a hot pink bathrobe and her sleek-furred designer slippers, wet hair pulled into a bun, bright white cream smeared underneath her eyes.

She bobbed her ankle up and down.

You smiled at her, sheepish. “Heyyy…”

“Don’t ‘heyyy’ me,” the girl snapped, regurgitating your awkward tone of voice. “My phone has exploded with text messages from Lee, saying how badly he needs to apologize to you—apologize for what—I have no fucking clue! Because you left me out to dry! I’ve been worried sick! And then I realized you’re not even home, you’re sleeping over at Vernon’s?!” She gestured at you, babbling on. “Dressed in your pyjamas?! I mean, walk of shame, much? Please, please, please tell me you didn’t—”

“No,” you laughed, pulling off your lazily-adorned coat and throwing it on the rack, “we did not have sex. All I did was sleep over.”

Ruby furrowed her faint brow, eyes boring into you with the strength of flying knives. Giggling, you dragged your knapsack over to the sofa, plopping down beside her and settling your hand over top hers, which was splayed on her knee. It actually felt nice to get scolded by Ruby, to defrost her mellowness and sense the depth of her care.

She proceeded to dramatically whip her hand away. “I want to be even meaner, but considering I don’t know what happened… I’m dialing back much of the meanness…” sighing, Ruby softened her gaze. “What the hell happened? Lee’s texts have been worrying me to death.”

You hated having to rehash the ugly details. Once already felt like enough, but the second time was just unabashedly painful. Guilt was scribbled all over Ruby’s face, and while it was impossible to blame her, you knew she was deeply upset about being the one to introduce you and Lee. He was her friend, too. Someone she trusted and regarded highly enough to suggest a relationship with her roommate. But you were adamant that she shouldn’t criticize herself so undeservingly, and after the exchanges of comfort between you, the girl was furious, stomping around the living room.

“I should call his mother!���

“I should throw a bucket of molasses over his windshield!”

“I should superglue his law textbook shut!”

You decided it was best to let her vent.

Until Ruby finally came to a pause, dropped open her mouth, and looked at you quizzically. “Wait—you told this to Vernon, too, right? What was his reaction? What did he say?”

“He was a sweetheart. Really nice about everything.”

Ruby jutted out her hip, readjusting the straps to her flashy bathrobe before slicking her hands against her damp hair. “You don’t say?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“Where did he go, after he dropped you off?”

You shrugged, settling back against the sofa. “I’m not sure. I assume he has, y’know, drug dealy stuff to do. He didn’t linger, just took off.”

“Oh,” Ruby said with a breathy, faltering smile. “Okay, well, I’m going to, uh, get dressed. We can do whatever you want afterward!’ She scrambled to grab her charm-decorated phone off the coffee table, slippers scuffing fast across the floor as she burst into her bedroom.

Weird. 

Holding your breath, you listened intently to the silence.

But then you heard your roommate’s voice echoing at low from her room, and you knew she was on the phone. Using your tiptoes, you pranced over to Ruby’s door, ever so subtly pressing your ear against the crack. Yes, you were being a gigantic sleuthing snoop, but something about it felt warranted.

“Vernon, just listen to me, this isn’t going to help—okay, yes! It’s going to help you feel better, but what about her? You never think things through… I understand what happened, she just told me… he is a piece of shit! I agree with you, but—I care about her, too! You don’t think I want to dent Lee’s face in for how he made her feel? … Please, please, please, for the love of God, you already get into enough trouble! Don’t add another freaking battery charge to your already insane resume of illegal activity! You seriously won’t get out of prison, you idiot! … Yes… Yes, I get it… I know how much you care for her… thank the fucking holy fucking ghost. You made the right choice, okay? I know it.”

Hearing Ruby hang up the call, you sped away from her door and settled back onto the couch, fingers twiddling anxiously in your lap.

Was Vernon going to do something to Lee?

You couldn’t be sure about the situation without admitting you had eavesdropped on Ruby. When she came out from her bedroom, you reminded her she still had cream under her eyes. She started rubbing it in, sighing aloud, like she had just adverted an assassination attempt. You weren’t sure what to think, what to feel, just that you couldn’t shake Vernon from your mind for the rest of the day, no matter what you did.

“Honey Buns, wow, I haven’t had these in a lifetime.”

“Doesn’t that technically mean you’ve never had it?”

Soonyoung’s voice sounded from over your shoulder, followed by the rustling of plastic. “Dunno—they’re good, though.”

You were helping him stock some of the snacks. It was opening and the morning crowd would start trickling in soon. While Soonyoung worked on more of the individually packaged foods, you were refilling the candy bars. The Twix and KitKats were almost completely empty.

“Anyway,” Soonyoung mumbled, “back to my story…”

Since he was stocking the aisle behind yours, you could freely roll your eyes without worrying about being rude, unlike Soonyoung, who would roll his eyes straight to your face. But you always listened to the babblings of his weekend antics because he always listened to your incessant qualms about the universe and your issues—it was only fair. Half the time you tuned him out, anyway. It was typically the same stuff: getting drunk or high, stirring up trouble, running into a handsome guy, and then they’d end up having sex some place unorthodox, like a porta-potty, or a toolshed.

You tore open another box of chocolate bars.

“… and I was, like, starting to get nervous, ‘cause I promised everyone I would get them tablets, but my plug wasn’t answering. So, I had to, like, keep assuring them and shit, right? I’ve had this specific acid tablet before so I knew it was good, but the thing is, I can only get them from this mysterious Chinese dude who kinda looks like a punk rock vampire. That’s beside the point, though. Anyway, at the last second, he comes through—”

“Wait,” you interrupted, turning around and brushing the boy’s shoulder to get his attention. “Are the tablets from Minghao?”

Soonyoung stopped stocking his Honey Buns. He looked at you, sun-bleached eyebrows strung high up his forehead. “You know Minghao?”

“Uh, not really… but I’ve been trying to, uh… it’s complicated…”

You couldn’t believe it! So, maybe it wasn’t Darian that told Minghao about you and Vernon, maybe it was Soonyoung all along. He did have a pretty big mouth… you wouldn’t be surprised if he let something stupid fly off the cuff. It somehow made too much sense.

Even though you wanted to holler, you tried to stay relaxed.

He adjusted his backwards cap. “Shit, you’re trying to buy?”

“No,” you assured, shaking your head. “Not at all. But, uh, did you know he was the one who was spray painting the building? Those octopuses? Octopi? Whatever.”

He scratched behind his neck, adverting eye contact. “Maybe…”

You gasped, “and you didn’t tell me you figured it out?!”

“Okay, okay, okay, before you have a cow, I didn’t say anything because I handled the situation and I just wanted it to be behind us. Once I realized it was him, I just slipped the dude some extra cash so he’d stop with the doodles. And—would you look at that—he stopped!” Soonyoung defended.

This time, you rolled your eyes to his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“I solved the problem, alright?”

“Those doodles had my arms limp and lifeless. I had to work cash hardly being able to lift a damn thing! Do you know how dehumanizing it was to ask men to tilt their beer to the side so I could scan it? I’ve never been called sweetheart, cupcake, and honey more in my entire life!”

“Well, I apologize,” Soonyoung tutted. “But it’s in the past.”

You huffed, turning back around to continue cramming chocolate bars onto the shelf, chewing your inner cheek. But you didn’t get very far in the task. “So, you’re familiar with him? Where does he stay?”

“Fuck if I know,” Soonyoung scoffed, bending down to grab another box and bumping you. “I just meet the dude in random ass places.”

“Does he ever mention anything specific?”

“Like what?” He groaned.

“I don’t know, like, clues to where he might live?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Soonyoung retaliated, laughing as he tore open the box in his hands. “Gonna get him back? Pull a prank on him? Finger-paint all over his windows?”

“No,” you grumbled, pausing to think of a reason. “It’s for… Ruby. She’s interested.” Oops, sorry Ruby, you winced. “They hit it off at the club. Minghao gave her an address on a slip of paper, but she can’t read his handwriting. She has no trail. It’s a real crisis.”

Soonyoung paused. “Really? Why aren’t you mad at her?”

“She genuinely didn’t know, nor did she pretend she never met him!”

He sighed, utterly drained. “Jeez.”

“Yeah. She’s super upset about it.”

“I thought Minghao had a girlfriend.”

“My guess is that they’re broken up,” you attempted to answer quickly, before he could think too hard, unaware of what Soonyoung actually knew about Minghao. “She flew back to China, apparently…”

“Damn… well…” he shoved more packaged sweets onto the shelf, taking a moment before speaking again. You dared not speak. Once Soonyoung lost a thought, it might never return. “One time, he mentioned a trailer.”

“A trailer?”

“Yeah… after we finished our deal last weekend, he told me he needed to get back to his trailer. That’s about it. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Like, a trailer park?”

“Maybe.”

Okay, it wasn’t the best lead, but it wasn’t the worst. You could work with that, even if it was ambiguous. It was definitely more than what you and Vernon had been able to scrounge up the week before. Upon organizing the last few chocolate bars onto the shelf, you heard the tinkling bell above the front door ring out.

“I better get to cash,” you said, ultimately satisfied with your play.

One socked foot was pulled onto the edge of the bench.

You left your elbow propped onto your knee, helping to secure the phone before your face as you scrolled through a citywide map. It was closing time at Mr. York’s, and since you were responsibly finished with all your cleaning duties, you were supposed to be getting ready to leave for the night.

Lara slipped into the locker area, standing behind you. As she fiddled with the combination, she mumbled, “what are you searching?”

You sighed in frustration. “Nothing, at this point.”

She took out her purse and a pair of tall, luxury winter boots from her locker. Realizing the bench was strewn messily in your coat and tote bag, you moved the items aside so she could sit next to you.

“Tonight genuinely sucked,” Lara complained, tugging off her work shoes one by one, letting them bounce rubbery against the tiles. “That fancy business lady—she makes me want to put a shotgun in my mouth.” She then began massaging her feet, blowing a tuft of long hair from her face. “The way she orders me around, makes all these cunty, unnecessary comments…”

“Oh, I know,” you chided, setting your phone aside. “And then the entire group stands out front, smoking, blocking everyone’s way.”

Shoving her foot into one of the black boots, Lara nodded. “I hate the fact she’s becoming a regular...” Lara tugged up the zipper and grabbed the other boot, rubbing some dirt off the white-fur detailing. “You think if I gave Costello a handie, he’d slip, like, a laxative in her food in return? Or something that makes her fade away?”

You giggled, returning to putting on your own boots that you had left scattered on the ground. “He’s really into you. I think it might work.”

Lara shrugged, reaching behind her to snatch a pretty coat out from her locker. “A little too into me. That business lady sucks but at least she gave me a decent tip for once. Costello is useless apart from having good timing on the meat section.” After buttoning up her chic coat, Lara flipped the shimmery strands of her dark brown hair from underneath the collar, sighing. “I’m getting damn sick of men. And women. I am a terrible person.”

“Can’t you stick it out until we can confirm the laxative thing?”

She pitted a very unsatisfactory glance in your direction.

“Only kidding,” you teased.

Lara stood up, grabbing her purse. “Do you need a ride home? Tars is warming up the car. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind an extra person.”

“Sure,” you smiled. “Thanks for asking.”

As you gathered together the rest of your things and shut your locker, Lara picked up your forgotten phone, her eyes narrowing in inspection at the map you had pulled up. “Seriously? What’s this for?”

You grabbed the phone back, stuffing it in your pocket, still disappointed at the sparse results. Lara had to pull you in the direction of the back door when you automatically veered for the front entrance. The parking lot was behind the restaurant.

You were used to the bus.

“I’ve been trying to find trailer parks that are close by.”

She chuckled while shouldering open the door. “Jeez—is the pay here really that damn bad? Don’t you work two jobs?”

“No!” You laughed, following Lara across the empty lot. “It’s for another reason that’s hard to explain. But I’m not having much luck.”

Lara opened the passenger door of Tara’s car, bending down to greet her friend before gesturing to you, standing awkwardly behind her, arms folded to help protect yourself against the biting wind.

You could hardly hear what the two girls were saying—Tara was blasting electronic pop music while taking off her lipstick with a makeup wipe—and you could only hope that maybe she would turn the volume down a tad. Vernon played his music quite loudly, too. Sometimes he would compromise, sometimes not. It depended on how much he liked the artist.

“Hop in,” Lara then said. “She’s fine with it.”

You smiled, pulling open the back door and sliding in behind Lara. It smelled so strongly of her perfume that you nearly coughed.

“Hey, gorgeous!” Tara shouted over the music. “Apologies—the backseat it a little messy—you can just push all those magazines over!”

“Oh, no problem!” You shouted. “Thanks for the ride!”

“What was that?!”

You set your tote bag beside you, swallowing tightly as the music vibrated through the car’s speaker system. “I said thank you for—"

Suddenly, everything went dead silent.

“Gosh, Tars,” Lara grumbled, wriggling out from her coat. “You don’t need it that fucking loud. The concert was five months ago. And there’s a guest in your car. I think she appreciates having intact ear drums.”

You giggled breathily, nervous. “It was a little loud.”

“Don’t sugar coat it,” Lara groaned.  “She needs an intervention.”

“Okay, whatever!” Tara yelled, loosening her scarf and pulling out her phone. “I get the point. Where do you live? For the GPS?”

“2269 Roxbury.”

“Perfect—we’ll drop you off first.”

“Oh, by the way,” Lara began, glancing at you through the rear-view mirror, “I’ve seen a few trailers, but it wasn’t necessarily a park.”

You brightened up. “Really?”

She nodded. “Right before it got super cold, my friends and I meshed with this other random group at a bar. We ended up going to a scrap yard, I think it’s called. There were old cars and motorcycles everywhere. A few trailers, too. Anyway, stuff was definitely getting passed around. I tried this LSD gummy and then got on a rusty bike. Got a super nasty cut on my leg. Had to go to the doctor and everything.”

“Oh,” Tara hummed, focused on the road. “I remember that. I had to come pick you up! That cut was awful! You’re lucky you had your shots!”

“Where was it, do you remember?” You pressed for information.

“I remember,” Tara sighed. “It’s along Kichesippi Woods. It’s a big scrap yard that doesn’t really get used any more. If you’re wondering about the trailers, I think there were three. People definitely lived in them. I guess they're used to people sneaking around.”

You were already making notes in your phone, excited to share the news with Vernon later on. “That’s amazing! Thank you both!”

Tara poised a polite expression. “Why are you so curious?”

“It’s a secret,” Lara answered in your place.

You shrugged, smirking ever so slightly. “Something like that.”

Vernon was staying the night at your apartment. He made himself comfortable on the couch, already prepared with an extra pillow and a pink blanket (he usually preferred Ruby’s black blanket that came with a special heating remote, but you thought the fairy pink was much better), in addition to slapping on his casual clothes—grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt—which truly wasn’t that different from his everyday attire. You were anticipating having him over, considering the fact you had been sitting on some very pertinent information all week. While waiting for your tea to finish steeping, you and Vernon were chatting up random topics.

Ruby wouldn’t be home until later.

Vernon had rolled himself a blunt. You never liked the astringent smokiness of the smell, how it stuck to everything, but after enough rendezvous with Vernon, you were unfortunately used to it. Ruby was into weed as well. She always puffed out her bedroom window.

“I’m actually so excited to tell you what I figured out!” You exclaimed, unable to stop fidgeting in your seat on the couch.

He eyed you up and down. “I can see that.”

“No, like, I’m really proud of myself.”

“Congratulations.”

It felt like being a child the night before the big birthday party, knowing your parents got you a specific gift, being ecstatic to rip it open, having an ear-to-ear grin plastered on your face akin to a mask.

Vernon exhaled a cloud of billowing, smooth smoke. He made everything look so effortless. You were a coughing, spluttering mess the last time you tried a basic joint, rolled courteously by your high school best friend. To be honest, you just never had much interest in it. Although you were probably smoking cheap, dull strains.

“When can I know the news?” He asked, keeping the blunt secured between his fingers as his hand fell upon his lap. “Why the big wait?”

“My tea,” you answered. “It has to finish steeping.”

The boy groaned, rolling his head against the sofa, frustrated at the delayed gratification. You looked along the column of his throat, noted the skin's bareness, without dark purplish-brown bruises pressed like flowers. There hadn’t been any marks for a few weeks. At least none you had noticed or seen—not that you were keeping track.

“Who cares?” Vernon grunted.

“I care!” You smacked his thigh with an embroidered pillow, a gift from Ruby’s seamstress mother. “Don’t be so impatient.”

“Is your special tea the equivalent of this?” Vernon inquired, holding the blunt up to his lips. The next time he spoke, the thin smoke crawled out from his mouth, as though he was a fire-breathing dragon. “Then I could understand. You gotta ride the wave.”

“Sure, it’s exactly like that. It’s probably done, actually.” Getting up from the couch, you checked the tea that you left steaming on the counter, stirring the bag around a few more times for good measure before plopping it in the trash. Once you rejoined Vernon in the living room, you snuggled against your end of the sofa, legs stretched out and daring to poke into his space. “Okay, are you ready?”

He shrugged. “Floor’s all yours.”

“Can I please have some more excitement?”

Vernon sighed. He tucked the blunt behind his ear and cleared his throat. Then, the boy was leaning over you, grabbing your shoulders and rattling them. “Oh, please, please, please won’t you tell me your awesome secret!” He fake-pleaded, squinching his eyes shut. “I’ll genuinely kill myself if I don’t get to know!”

Giggling, you pulled up your foot and lightly shoved it against the edge of his ribs, prodding him to sit back down. “That’s much better, although it didn't seem very sincere. Anyway, okay I'll tell you. Whew, this is really good. Okay, okay... I know where Minghao is!”

“Do you?” Vernon engaged, entertaining himself with another intake of smoke. “And where would that be? Burlington Coat Factory?”

“There’s a scrap yard along Kichesippi Woods,” you explained, tightly gripping your tea. “He lives in one of the trailers there. I’m positive.”

“Kichesippi Woods? Didn’t a guy get murdered there last year?”

You leaned forward, willfully ignoring him. “And guess how I figured it out? Through my savvy investigation skills! It was Soonyoung! He gets tablets from Minghao. I figured he was the one who blabbed about us, knowing his big mouth and all, so that’s how Minghao knew I was familiar with you. Apparently, Minghao mentioned getting back to a trailer, so, naturally, I think—” you paused, blowing on your tea and taking a shallow sip to test its flavours before continuing, “—I think he lives in a trailer park, but there’s hardly any around the city.

So, I’m working a closing shift at Mr. York’s a few days later, and I get a major scoop from Tara and Lara. Lara went to a scrap yard with this big group of people to do drugs or get drunk or steal a rusty bicycle or something—I don’t really know—and she tells me she noticed trailers there. Tara backed her up. One has to be Minghao’s! The yard’s along Kichesippi Woods!”

Vernon was squinting at you, his eyes slim and red. You assumed it was a boatload of information to absorb at once, and you hadn’t exactly held his hand and waltzed through everything at a gentle pace. But you had collected all the evidence—even a location!

The boy nodded. “That’s good news, for sure.”

Letting the tea sit between your legs, you clapped at him. “Who’s pulling the weight now, huh? I did all that handiwork myself!”

“Handiwork?” Vernon scoffed, itching his studded eyebrow. “You have destiny on your side. Everyone you fuckin’ breathe around is tangled up in this bullshit, somehow. Not that I’m complainin’.”

You fell back against the arm of the couch, pouting. “Why can’t you let me win? Did I still not do a good job? Did I not help us out?”

“No, 'course you did a good job,” he assured you. “And you helped us a lot. You’re right. I should celebrate your wins more.”

Feeling the hot tea begin to burn your inner thighs, you picked it back up and nodded at him in satisfaction. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“I’m sure.”

“So, when should we check it out? Tomorrow?”

Vernon shook his head, fixing his tattooed arm around the back of the couch. “Can’t,” he muttered, “I’ve got business.”

“Ugh, you’re so boo.” You frowned, slipping down the sofa. Holding the tea against your stomach, feeling a circle of heat sink through your shirt, you began nibbling your lip, different ideas forming bubbles in your mind as you examined the ceiling. “Maybe I can—”

“Forget it,” he chuckled. “You’re not goin’ by yourself,”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” you corrected him. “The only thing I wanna do is check it out. I can’t help being curious. Maybe Tara would—”

“You don’t go if I don’t go,” Vernon stated, shrugging a shoulder.

Lifting your head to rest against the sofa, you scowled at him. “I don’t think that choice falls into your authority. I can do what I want.”

“Oh, can you?” He goaded, raising an eyebrow. “What a big girl.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Vernon said. “I don’t want you there without me. Minghao’s snakey. I know how to deal with him.”

You sighed in capitulation, wriggling your toes. “Fine.”

He gave you a stern but entreating glance. “Promise?”

Sitting up, you set the tea onto the coffee table. “I promise.”

Vernon held out his pinky finger.

You wrapped yours around his and shook on it.

Curling your legs underneath you, playing with a thread of the pink blanket now pulled onto your lap, you began to smile. “I can't help but find it weird when things actually go my way."

He chuckled. “It only feels weird ‘cause you think the world’s against you. But it’s not.” Vernon exhaled another wispy cloud. “It’s just the world. Plus, you’re high-strained enough to start up a car battery.”

“I am not!”

The boy tossed his eyes in a circle. “Your delusion charms me.”

“Actually, I think I’ve calmed down a lot…” you hummed, winding the thread around your finger. “Compared to when we first met.”

Vernon nodded. “Maybe.”

“You don't believe me? That I've mellowed out?”

“Somehow, I think it's the opposite. You talk a fuckin' lot.”

“I do? All my report cards said I was too quiet.”

“Maybe I just bring it outta you, huh?” He chuckled, letting the blunt nestle between his lips. The papery tip singed its orange glow as he puffed, more smoke drifting throughout the living room. You noticed the burnt odor lingering for longer than usual, though you weren’t particularly concerned. Maybe you were half-high. “Spike?” He was suddenly holding out the blunt, thick in his fingers and packed with an earthly, musty smell, and your heart restricted, frozen at the offer.

“Uh…” you swallowed, a deep fire rising from the base of your throat that made the words difficult to pronounce. “I’m not sure if…”

He moved it away before you could decide, drew in more smoke that soon streamed out his nose and rolled from between his lips like a waterfall of weightless clouds. “I knew your ass wouldn’t do shit.”

“Because you pressured me!”

He almost choked on his own splitting cackle. “Fuckin—how?! All I did was hold the damn thing out in front of you! You fuckin’ weirdo!”

“You set up a pretense for me to be pressured!”

“No—that was you,” Vernon chuckled. “Nice fuckin’ try.”

Grumbling, you stayed hunched over the blanket, continuing to play with the baby pink thread by feeding it between your fingers.

“Unless,” Vernon sang, “you actually did want a spike?”

You glanced up at him, eyebrows knitted together.

He nodded his head. “I don’t care if you do, PJ’s.”

Sighing, you reached out, though you paused midway, your fingers twitching in the air. No—you couldn’t. There was too much unspoken tension with him watching you. What if you started hacking up a lung like back in your high school days? You were never good at holding the breath in—the part that was crucial to feeling the high—without your eyes sprouting tears from the heated dryness.

Then, shaking your head, you refused. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s been too long…” you worried, forgetting the thread and lying back against the arm of the sofa. “I’m gonna look dumb, or something.”

He shrugged. “Who cares? It’s just me.”

“And you’ll make fun of me.”

“Well, I won’t mean it.” He smirked, giving you another moment to twiddle your thumbs and think. Suddenly, Vernon grabbed your knee and squeezed it. “I won’t say a damn thing, okay? I promise.”

“No.”

“Yes, c’mere,” he encouraged. His textured fingertips squeezed into the flesh of your arm, pulling you to sit back up despite all your grouchy, reluctant noises. “Swear I’ll be good.”

Staring him square in his pretty face, you shook your head.

“How ‘bout I make it easier, then?” Vernon suggested an unknown compromise, the dark hues of his golden eyes softening. “You trust me?”

At that moment, your skin thrummed with heat. You felt its pulse, travelling like a crashing ocean wave, and you couldn’t stop your gaze from narrowing as you traced the crests and contours of Vernon’s scheming expression. You coughed slightly. “What does that mean?”

He pursed his lip. “I’m askin’ if you trust me.”

You sniffled, nodded your head. “I do… but—”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Why? What are you gonna do?” The nervousness of not knowing his intentions caused your mind to flitter like paper birds. You did trust him, but that didn’t exactly quell your timorousness with one easy sweep. “I-I just… you’re making me… nervous.”

“I know,” Vernon said, smiling. “I’m not gonna do anything you won’t like, yeah?” He brushed his fingers along your knee, and you took in a long, quivering breath. “Just keep relaxed. That’s it. And at any point, if you don’t want to, then stop me. Sound good?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your voice a squeak.

He put the blunt between his lips. Grabbing his lighter off the coffee table, you leaned back as he crisped the end with a few sparks, feeling the flame’s warmth ever so gently against your cheeks. Once Vernon was satisfied, he tossed the lighter and gave the blunt a quick, obligatory puff, making sure to politely blow the smoke away from your face. “Alright,” he sighed, “you ready, PJ’s?”

Gulping, the only thing you could do was nod, too afraid to use your voice again in case it embarrassingly cracked. Vernon reminded you to close your eyes. As soon as the room went dark, your heartbeat leapt tenfold.

You felt his hand touch your knee, attempting to soothe you with massaging circles. “Relax, okay?” He whispered. “You’ll like it.”

There was the faintest sound of a crackle as you heard the boy inhale, taking his time to let the smoke settle right. Then, you sensed his fingertips drift against your tingling cheek, curling behind your ear, and your nails scraped the fabric of your pyjama bottoms. He was holding the edge of your face, so close that your atmospheres seemed overlapping despite the sheer, unmoving blackness.

Softly, his nose bumped yours and you gasped. That’s when you felt the fantom breeze—his pierced lips delicately mouthing over your own—his fingers dancing to fasten your chin, the smoke crawling inside you, spilling against the back of your throat like a breath of prickly fog. The sensation was overwhelming. You didn’t know where it came from, but you mewled, wanting to chase Vernon’s touch like a swaying, golden reed. His hand skimmed down your waist, pulled along your thigh, and then the smoke had vanished.

Holy hell—you were going to pass out.

Everything around you felt fuzzy, dream-like.

There was so much heat inside you that it was no wonder your tissues and bones weren’t melting into each other, bubbling, fusing.

But then you realized what had happened. Your eyes flung open, and you scrambled backward until you were pressed against the arm of the sofa, gawking at the clever, smirking boy. “Why the hell would you do that?” You admonished.

Vernon relaxed back into his spot, arms crossed, blunt tucked behind his ear. “I wanted to,” he said. “Made you feel good, yeah?”

Yes, yes!  You had never felt anything so electric! Sparks had coursed the lengths of your sensitive skin like flying livewires. They were ticklish and molten and crackling with pleasure.

“No! It did not!”

He bit his lip, shrugged. “Fine, it didn’t.” But then he tilted his head at you. “Thanks for moanin’ into my mouth, by the way. That was hot.”

“Shut up!” You recoiled off the sofa. “No I freaking didn’t!”

“My word against yours, beautiful,” Vernon countered, winking.

“I can’t believe this!” You fretted, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the coffee table, fingernails running against your teeth. “Why on earth would you do that? I don’t understand! Are you trying to trick me?”

He spoke through a haze of smoke. “Trick you how?”

“By damn near kissing me!” You cried. “Why would you do that!”

Vernon didn’t seem as concerned. “You like me,” he stated.

“So?!” At that point, it didn’t even matter. He obviously knew. You were terrible at hiding it—big surprise—but you had gradually stopped caring about how obvious you were being because there had been the boundary of his feelings diverging from yours. You were safe in a world of fantasy. There was nothing else to worry about. He would never reciprocate. “That isn’t something you can do, Vernon! It doesn’t mean anything to you like it does to me!”

“Who said it didn’t mean anything to me?”

Your feet tripped on the shag carpet at the shock of his questioning and you slammed to an awkward, confused stop. He was still reclined against the sofa, hands tucked behind his head, one holding onto his blunt that produced a finite tail of smoke into the air.

“What?” You gasped. “And what the hell does that mean?”

He bit his lip ring, stared at you. “What do you think?”

“No,” you choked, shaking your head. “No, no, no, no!”

“No, what?” Vernon laughed, leaning forward and splaying out his hands. “Why is this suddenly such a bad thing? I can’t like you?”

You sat on the coffee table, squeezing your scalp in agony.

He moved closer to you, reaching his touch underneath your knee.

“It’s not the same…” you sniffled, wiping off your runny, wet nose.

Vernon shrugged, sweetly rubbing your leg. “How come?” He murmured, attentive to your overflowing sensitivity. “Explain it to me.”

You sighed, gulping in a breath. “It just isn’t. When you didn’t like me back, I could like you even more, as much as I wanted! Because I thought you would never like me! But if you’re being serious… then it changes things! It puts… realism… on the table… and there’s just no realism with us!” Tears beaded down your cheeks, but you wiped them away before Vernon could get his hand back to your face, before you could melt all over again. “I’ll want more, I’ll want a relationship. But you won’t because you’ll get bored in a relationship—that’s why you only have unattached sex! And you’re a freaking drug dealer! How am I supposed to introduce a drug dealer to my parents, o-or survive without worrying about you, or stay out of your business no matter how many times you tell me to. I won’t!”

“Jeez,” Vernon chuckled, his voice becoming hoarse from the potency of the Indica. “That was quite the speech.”

“But did you listen?!”

“Yes, yes, I listened.” Vernon put the blunt behind his ear, then eased your anxious buzzing by grabbing onto your shaky hands and surrounding them tightly with his warm, rough, calloused ones. “I listened, PJ’s. Alright? I think you have valid worries. But why do we have to focus on the uncertainty right now? Why can’t we just… I dunno… go where the wind takes us? Huh?”

Your shoulders sunk. “Do you really like me?”

The boy smiled, flashing a glimpse of his sharp teeth as a response.

“Well… I think you’re lying. We’re friends.”

No matter what he told you tonight, your mind was solidified. It was not going to accept that this boy was being truthful. It was not going to accept that your fantasy was threatening the bounds of real life.

Vernon shook his head, moved aside some sooty hairs tickling his eyes. “Y’know what? Sure. We’re friends. Let’s keep it simple, yeah? I’ll just think about you every wakin’ fuckin’ second of my goddamn day, and you’ll think about me, and we’ll just call it even. Right?”

 Nipping anxiously on your bottom lip, you nodded. “Right.”

Vernon took the blunt down from his ear. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Once Ruby came home, she could clearly tell something was off between you, though she refrained from being vocal about it. You were certain she noted how distant you were from Vernon, not just metaphorically, but also physically, cramming yourself against the opposite end of the sofa like you were attached by hot-glue.

Most of your responses were minimal and squeaky. She sent you a text before bed, when you came out from the washroom and screamed at Vernon innocently waiting his turn.

WTF is going on???

You sent her a text back.

I’ll explain tmo… you won’t BELIEVE it…

7 MONTHS AGO.

The next morning, you decided to take Ruby out for breakfast to explain the situation. Vernon was gone by the time you awoke. Strangely, the pink blanket was folded nice and neat on the couch as opposed to the usual lump he would leave behind in his haste. You placed the blanket on the corner of your bed prior to heading out, giving it a long, confused stare.

Ruby loved Get Cracking. It was her favourite breakfast restaurant in the city. No matter your age, they left you pencil crayons and a colouring book to work on while awaiting your food. It made for a very interesting exposé as you shaded in the bejewelled crown atop your princess’s curly hair.

“No… I don’t even know how to start…” you sighed.

Your roommate was colouring a frog perched on a lilypad. “Just come straight out with it,” Ruby encouraged. “That’s the best way.”

“Well, I’ll set up some background first…” you murmured, replacing your bright yellow pencil with a deep purple one to colour in the crown’s amulets. “So, basically… Vernon almost freakin’ kissed me.”

Suddenly, there was a loud, harsh snap. Ruby had broken the lead to her blue pencil. “Uh—” she swallowed, hard, bulging her golden-green eyes at you like saucers “—so much for background information!”

“It gets worse!”

“Jesus. How?”

Collapsing your shoulders, taking a timid glance around the restaurant, you proceeded to lower your voice and whisper, “because, then he told me… he essentially told me that he liked me! I almost fainted!”

Ruby’s jaw dropped. She leaned forward, brow furrowed. “Are you freaking serious? Like, on your life? You’re being serious? He said that?”

You nodded gravely. “No, I’m being so serious. The seriousest.”

“Is that a word?”

“I don’t know! That’s how serious this is!”

She couldn’t produce even a sound. Instead, Ruby dropped her broken pencil and sunk back into the booth like she was just delivered the most devastating news, her tongue circling around her inner cheek. To be honest, you were still reeling from the moment. It consumed your mind without mercy for the entire night. You saw Vernon in your dreams. You touched him. You caressed him. You felt him in ways you couldn’t confess.

After a palatable silence, Ruby shifted from her stony, stiff position that made her seem almost corpse-like. She casted fingers through a silky red streak of her dark hair, puffing out from deep within her chest. “Damn…”

“That’s all you have to say?” You whined. “I need guidance!”

“Well—jeez—I need to process it!” Ruby defended.

“I thought that silence was you processing it!”

“No,” she laughed, shaking her head. “That was me talking myself down from buying ten Screwdrivers!”

Squeezing the pencil in between your fingers, you tried desperately not to let yourself spiral. After all, you were the master of spiralling. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, but it was terribly exhausting to come back down and grasp the extent of mental wreckage. Ruby was far better at composure, though she seemed most keen for a drink before you went any further.

You grabbed a pink pencil for the princess’s dress. “I don’t know… all I’m saying is that it’s confusing… if he’s being honest about it, then I don’t understand why he likes me. We’re so different in every aspect.”

Ruby sighed, grabbing her blue pencil and attempting to colour with it again, only to remember it was broken. She took another shade from the assorted cup, blowing some shavings off it. “I’m not gonna pretend to fully understand how the guy’s mind works…” she admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “Ever since I’ve known him, he’s never liked anybody romantically. He’s always been a free spirit, you know? Doesn't like to be tethered. I think the fact you are so different from him, so beyond what he’s used to… maybe it’s refreshing?”

Frowning, you pushed harder on the pencil, outlining the princess’s dress in a darker hue of hot pink. “Yeah, and then he’ll get totally bored of me. I’ll lose my refreshingness! I feel like I’m just a phase, you know?”

“I wish I could give you a clear answer.”

You wished for that, too.

But if someone were to plop a miraculous crystal ball into your hands and harness the undeniable truth, that would be too easy, and your life was certainly not founded on easiness. Sucking in your cheeks, you continued colouring, noting more streakiness through the thin paper as pressure flooded your hand and cramped your fingers.

“How did he try to kiss you?” Ruby asked.

You let the pencil roll away. “It was a tricky trick.”

“What kind of tricky trick?”

The memory remained sharp in your mind. Every little sensation, breath, gliding of fingers, nervous words—you could recreate it with clay and make a damn movie! Having to explain the situation to Ruby turned you hotter than the fresh plate of browned, buttery pancakes the waitress had just delivered to the table.

Ruby pulled the waitress’s attention. “Can I ask for one Screwdriver, if that’s okay? With a raspberry flavour shot?”

As you spilled the warmed, smooth syrup around in circles, you sighed aloud. “He had a blunt, and asked if I wanted a hit. I said I couldn’t because it had been too long since I last smoked—I didn’t wanna look like a gigantic fool—what if I started choking to death or something?” Setting the pitcher back down, grabbing hold of your utensils, you continued. “So, whatever, I let him take control of the situation. He asked me to close my eyes, right? Then… he gets close to me… he has his hand on my face and his lips are like, feathering over mine, and he’s blowing the smoke into my mouth!”

Ruby brought a hand to her face, gasping.

“The worst part…” you whispered, embarrassment fizzling up your chest as you leaned further toward your roommate, “I moaned!”

“You what?!” She shouted, beginning to cough. “You moan—”

Picking up a napkin, you shoved it against her loud mouth before the entire diner could hear your intimate, inappropriate details while in the midst of eating breakfast. She used the napkin to wipe some crumbs off her lips. “S-Sorry—” Ruby spluttered, “—I just—holy fuck. He kinda got you.”

“He was so damn cocky about it!” You flustered.

“Well,” Ruby sighed in a helpless breath, cutting across her pancakes. “That’s Vernon for you. If he gets a reaction, he runs with it.”

Prodding at your food with a fork, you again thought back to the dreams running rampant through your imagination last night. How vivid each sensation felt, to the point that the little hairs on your arms began bristling in response. His rough hands all over you, pulling, kneading, smacking. The ghosted recollection of what it might feel like to be filled by him, a warmth and fullness you couldn't make sense of. There had been sweat shining off your body with the glow of a newborn star. There were moans, loud and then soft, weak.

You hadn’t realized you were staring into space.

Ruby’s lips tightened. “Uh… what exactly are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not what your pupils are telling me.” When you didn’t entertain the topic any further, Ruby smiled, her expression comforting. “It’s okay to want him. It’s okay to think about him in ways that feel… not okay.”

You stabbed a sliced piece of banana onto your fork. “How is it okay, though? You always freak out about us potentially having sex.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, but that was before I knew all this, how he feels about you. I would hate for your first time to be with someone who isn’t on your wavelength romantically.” She paused as the waitress stopped by with her orange Screwdriver. “Things could have changed once he got to know you. I mean, clearly, they did. It’s just… you might not be ready for the same things.”

“We definitely aren’t. I can’t… be with a drug dealer,” you whispered.

She chuckled. “Most people would probably say the same.”

Letting your chin rest in your palm, you glanced at your roommate from across the table. “Do you think he’s serious? He really likes me?”

Ruby grabbed her beverage, taking a sip. “I know he’s serious,” she confessed after settling the glass back down. “Dude, he was gonna beat the shit out of Lee. I had to talk him out of it. He laughs and smiles so much when he's with you. I think he genuinely cares about you. And I bet you’re all he thinks about.”

You started to smile, your eyes fluttering. “That’s sweet…”

“I really can’t tell you what to do,” Ruby admitted with a defeated shrug, spearing some fruit onto her fork, “since you know yourself best. But I bet the answer will come to you when you’re least expecting it.”

After bringing the sliced banana to your mouth, you began cutting into your pancakes frustratedly, nodding. “My god. I hope so.”

Before you and Vernon could jump into investigating the scrap yard, he told you that he had a deal planned right around lunchtime. Of course, this was mentioned after you had already sat down in his car, and since you weren’t in the mood to bail out into a pile of pebbled, greying snow and concrete, the best thing you could do was begrudgingly cross your arms and sigh.

Now, you didn’t know where you were.

It was a gigantic, empty hanger graffitied to hell with large garage doorways. Probably some sort of warehouse left to complete abandonment years and years ago, turned to an ideal location for Vernon to sell his friends drugs. How forward thinking.

The air was still and frosty, the surrounding land barren, lumped, and dead, with nothing but a coarse field to stare at from across the quiet road. While Vernon sat on the hood of his car, feeling the warmth grumble from the running engine underneath, you were stiffly leaned against the threshold of the garage doorway. Ever since the second incident (taking name after the now labelled first incident AKA the failed confession), you couldn’t help but make it weird.

Vernon acted the same as he always did.

Unfortunately, you weren’t hardwired that way.

Kicking at a stone, you sighed, “when is he coming?”

“Soon.”

“Can I have a time?”

Vernon stared at you. “12:12.”

“No, I mean, like, the time that he’s supposed to show up.”

“Well, if I had the time for that, I would have said it.”

Displeased at the unproductive exchange, you turned around, keeping your arms folded, and took a few steps inside the industrial-sized hanger. There were some gashes in the metallic roofing, letting through thick beams of white light that staggered against the ruined cement floor. You then looked right, saw a huge slew of black, graffitied letters dried dripping above a hole broken through the infrastructure.

WORLD’S LARGEST GLORYHOLE!

Promptly, you turned back around. “What a lovely place this is.”

Vernon scoffed, stretching out his hands behind him. “I know you wanna leave. It won’t be much longer, alright? Moo’s good at that.”

“Not me to me, he’s not. Did you guys not discuss a time? Or do you just throw out arbitrary numbers and show up when you feel like it?”

“Ease the attitude. Damn.”

Your eyes rolled. It was impossible not to give attitude.

Giving attitude was the only way for you to place distance that was more than just physical in between yourself and Vernon. It was your only means of putting up a barbed front. You were not an attitude person by nature. But being around him just pulled it straight out of you like a child yanking their loose, wriggling tooth.

He patted the spot beside him. “Come sit here.”

You made a sour, repulsive face. “Mmm… no.”

Vernon shook his head, chuckling. “I knew you would do this.”

Rolling a rock underneath your heel, you muttered, “do what?”

“Make it fuckin’ awkward.”

“No—” you argued back, instantly tense and hot, “—you made me make it awkward! And since you knew I would be awkward about it, my awkwardness right now is completely and unequivocally your fault!”

Vernon shrugged, pressing against a sore spot on the side of his neck, beginning to yawn. “I can’t be bothered t'give a fuck.”

“Then why’d you bring it up?”

He shuffled backward, reclining against the car’s windshield, tucking his arms comfortably behind his head. “The not givin’ a fuck part didn’t kick in until just now. Can you hit the radio? I want some tunage.”

“Do it yourself.”

“Prick,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Idiot,” you mumbled back, punting the rock.

Vernon’s friend appeared about ten minutes later, ripping into the lot with a concerning level of speed. He pulled his all-black car right next to the rumbling Camry. It looked like something salvaged from the early 1990’s with its small, square lights, short hood, and compact structure. Vernon greeted his friend, Moo. He was sporting a thin black zip-up, some track pants, and weathered white sneakers. His hair was a fluffed-out, wispy afro and you were quick to notice that some splotches of skin on his hands and neck were pale in comparison to his dark complexion. Vitiligo. You remembered the name since one of Diana’s cousins had the condition.

Unsure of what to do as Vernon and Moo cordially conserved, you returned your attention back toward the hanger, scuffing your shoes and hearing the consequential echo. Until Vernon called you.

“PJ’s—this is Moo. Old buddy a' mine.”

Shuffling over, you leaned against Vernon’s car. “Hello.”

Moo smiled, sticking out his hand. Vernon always dapped up all his friends, and you assumed it would be no different with Moo, hence his quirky laughter when the attempted handshake was met with you scraping at his palm and clutching his fingers.

“Oh, shit,” Moo chuckled, rubbing his nose as you reclined into yourself, embarrassed. “Didn’t know you were cool like that.”

“I’m sorry. Vernon always does it and—”

“Hey, I’m throwing something this weekend,” Moo suddenly interrupted your bumbling, returning his attention to Vernon. “Kitty’s finally back from Europe and she brought some crazy freak shit they’ve been smashing in those underground clubs. Said it’s cut with stardust. What a fucking liar, huh?” He smacked Vernon’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Anyway, if you’re free, you should swing by.” Moo looked at you. “And you, too. If you're into that”

Vernon nodded, returning the gesture and giving his friend’s shoulder a stern squeeze. “Alright, man. Thanks for the invite.”

Moo waggled his tiny baggies full of white powder, seeming satisfied that he delivered forth the message. “No worries, street rat. I'll make sure this gets to Mish, the lazy bastard.” He plopped back into his car, saluted you both. “Later guys.”

Upon his friend tearing out from the parking lot, Vernon slapped the money against his hand. “Okay, the treacherous, scary deed is done.”

Squirming into the warm car, you asked, “are you going?”

Vernon tucked the money into a black knapsack that he proceeded to toss into the rear of the car. “Yes, yes, holy shit—can you give me a fuckin’ second to at least breathe the air? Jesus Christ…”

“No!” You shouted. “I meant are you going to the party?”

“Oh,” he sighed cumbersomely, puffing out his cheeks. “Uh, probably. And it’s not a party.” He stretched on his seatbelt.

You undid the buttons on your woolly coat. “Then what is it?”

“Nothin’ that you’d give a fancy fuck about,” he chuckled while proceeding to steer the car out from the lot. “That’s for damn sure.”

“Well, what if I want to go?”

Suddenly, Vernon smashed the breaks.

In the midst of putting on your seatbelt, you were shot forward like a rock in a slingshot, ramming into the dashboard. Shaking your head, you glared at him, feeling the crookedness in your arm. “What the hell!”

The boy’s brow was heavily contorted in bewilderment. “Please, tell me you did not just say that, Pyjamas,” he implored. “There’s no way.”

With a grumble, you adjusted yourself back into the chair, ensuring your seatbelt was safely secured before you dared say anything else. Vernon's stare was crisply burning, like sunlight through a magnifying glass, and it became increasingly harder to put a sentence together.

Rolling out your shoulders, you nipped, “stop staring at me.”

“I wanna understand why you wanna go. I mean, it makes absolutely zero fuckin’ sense. There’s nothin’ there that appeals to you.”

“Can you just drive?”

Vernon obliged, peeling out onto the long road bordered by stiff country fields and pearl blue sky. “I think you’re tryin’ to pull my chain.”

“Of course you do.”

He laughed again. “Seriously, though. What’s this about?”

With the industrial hanger being pulled away from your peripheral, you had nothing to stare at but the encompassing fields, prickled and ice-crusted with frost. Honestly, it was quite pleasant to take in such openness after habituating to the crowded city life. Your childhood home had been right across from a farm.

Vernon’s elbow bumped your arm. “Eh? What’s the deal?”

You took in a breath, keeping your tone calm. “I don’t know… I just don’t get the fuss about me wanting to go. I mean, I get that it doesn’t really suit what you think of me… but there’s no harm in trying new things.”

“Okay,” Vernon huffed, “but people say that about, like, tryin’ a new hobby or some shit. You’re wantin’ to put yourself in a position where you straight up know you won’t have a good time. Like, seriously.”

“Because you can only have a good time when you’re high?”

“No—because you’re gonna be around other high people—and as a sober person, that’s gonna suck. It’s gonna suck real fuckin’ bad.”

Your head rolled along the seat such that you were staring at him while he drove, an eyebrow tweaking in question. “And I can only assume you’re going to be in the high population. Not the sober.”

“What the fuck do you think?” He chuckled.

“I still want to go.”

Vernon shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“I feel like there has to be specific a reason you’re so against me going…” you hummed in contemplation, crossing one leg over your knee and beginning to bob your foot. “I think I know what it is.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I just told you—you’re gonna hate it.”

“It’s because you want to screw around with a girl.”

The boy cackled, leaning forward in his seat, rubbing a hand through his soft, black locks. “Jesus Christ, you’re killin’ me, you know that?”

“I see…” you muttered, folding your arms. “No denial…”

“Shut the fuck up, honestly,” Vernon laughed.

“Well, if that’s what you want to do, then just be honest.”

“Okay, fine,” he declared with a shrug. “I’ll play your game, PJ’s.”

“There’s no game,” you chastised him, rolling your eyes.

But he ignored your insistence. “Say there was a girl. And I did fuck her while you were there. Loud enough that you could hear every time the bed frame hit the wall. Hear every single one of her moans. Every single time I smacked her ass.” He glanced over you slowly from top to bottom while you sat rigid in your seat, likely taking pleasure from how you squirmed. “How would that make you feel?”

Your entire mouth and throat were papery dry.

Truth be told, you would hate it.

In fact, you would probably start crying. The silence was louder than any crash or clap. You didn’t want to answer the question. You didn’t want him to know how utterly heartbroken that would make you feel. Just the fact that he had even asked such a question, knowing how it would stab you, made you get teary-eyed.

Swallowing gruffly, you squeaked out, “well… if that’s what you want.”

Vernon snorted. “That’s not at all what I want!” He paused for a moment, a sparkle darting through his eyes. “Unless the girl is you.”

You couldn’t help but make a twisted, flustered facial expression.

His hand then found the top of your back and he started rubbing in circles, easing the emotions colliding inside you that had packed into a knot between your shoulders. “If you went and fucked someone else in the house, I’d care, too! I’d fuckin’ want to murder the guy!”

You sniffled. “Really?”

Squeezing your shoulder, he smiled at you, full of confidence and conviction. “A hundred percent, PJ’s. I said I liked you, 'member?”

Shuddering out a breath, you felt Vernon’s touch leave your body, and the loss of physical consolation seemed so cruel. No one had ever communicated something like that to you before. At least not in a romantically-inclined way—Ruby did say from time to time that she would gladly throttle anyone who upset you—and you appreciated the sentiment from both sides of the coin. Maybe Vernon really did feel something for you. Maybe.

“I don’t feel like talking anymore,” you sighed, heavy in thought as the sparse fields started thickening with conifers, casting out the light and pushing in shadows that webbed the dark ground. “Can we sit in silence until we get there?”

“Whatever you need,” Vernon answered, shrugging a shoulder.

The entrance to the scrap yard was very unassuming. It was a mere dirt road that veered off from the pavement, leading downward, between a continuous brigade of tall, still pine trees. You couldn’t help but think back to Lara’s story about being brought here by a group of strangers—you would think you were getting murdered—though you were also a complete worrywart. Lara was definitely more adventurous by comparison.

Vernon seemed pretty assured that Minghao wouldn’t be there since it was a Saturday, and Minghao was apparently a very busy bee on Saturdays, dealing drugs no doubt, or painting buildings—you weren't sure. But soon the dirt road and trees opened up until you came to a clearing. There was a large, tall fence, caged around the scrap yard. Vernon pulled the car off to the side, taking out his keys.

“Is it locked?” You asked.

He pushed open his door. “Probably.”

“So, what does that—”

Vernon had already shut the door.

Grumbling to yourself, you threw off your seatbelt and hurried after him. He was inspecting a large, hardy padlock secured around two posts of the fence with chain links.

“I’m guessing it’s locked,” you sighed.

“No, it’s wide open.”

You scowled at his unhelpful sarcasm. “I was just asking!”

“I can pick the shitty locks, but this isn’t a shitty lock.”

“Shame.”

Vernon looked up. He placed two hands on the fence and shook it, hearing the metal rattle. “Seems stiff enough. And not electric. Bonus.”

Instantly, your stomach surged with trepidation. His thinking was obvious. And you were not mentally nor physically prepared to hop aboard. Taking a step back, you scoffed, “no—no way.”

Vernon laughed, gesturing innocently. “What? I told you it’s not electric! There’s not even any barbed wire up top. It’s askin’ to be climbed!”

You gagged; mouth slacked. “So, what? You talk to fences now? I am not climbing that! It’s dangerous! And tall as heck! I’m not doing it.” For emphasis, you crossly folded your arms and stood firmly in place. “If you want me over that, you’ll have to drag me.”

Rolling his eyes, Vernon mirrored your hardened stance. “Okay, honestly, what did you expect, PJ’s? That we’d just be able to skippy-doodle-doo our way in here? You should have learned by now it’s never that easy.” He waved his hand toward the fence. “Now, stop bein’ a spoiled princess and get your ass over here so we can get this show on the road.”

But you didn’t move. “No.”

“Holy shit. You’ll be fine,” Vernon drawled, his tone beginning to bleed from patience and amusement to annoyance. “Nothin’ is gonna happen. All’s you need is a tetanus shot and opposable thumbs. Thumbs may even be optional.”

“Ah, but I have a brain. You’re better off.”

He seemed done with the stalling. Vernon stalked toward you, eyes steely, his hand grooving around your elbow, beginning to tug you.

“Hey!” You hollered, attempting to thrash free. “Don’t—even—”

But Vernon was strong. He was dragging you a little too easily. “Don’t make me fuckin’ throw you over my shoulder,” he grunted in warning, forcing you to move closer and closer toward the fence.

At last, you capitulated. “Fine, fine! I’ll climb it!” He let go of your elbow, to which you rubbed down your arm sorely. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vernon dismissed. He then grabbed your hand and slapped it right onto the cold fence, curling your fingers around the metal wiring. “You’re more prepared than I am. You’re the rock climber.”

“Don’t make me remember that,” you gritted. “Also, the fact you’re making me go first is so… you should be ashamed, abhorred—”

“Shut the fuck up and do it.”

Upon spearing him a glare, you decided to bite the bullet. At least when you had been rock climbing there was a safety harness, and helmet, and ropes to catch you in the event you slipped. Trying not to harp on the dangers, your teeth clenched tight into your inner cheek as you began to climb, ignoring how horribly icy the metal felt as your fingers wrapped around the wires.

The higher you scaled, the more your heart raced, until you reached the thick bar on top and you had a perfect vantage point across the entirety of the scrap yard. Right in the middle was three RVs. You knew to get over the fence you had to straddle the bar, though the task seemed impossible. Swallowing densely, you took a moment to breathe in the brisk, sharp air, smell the earth and the pine. Grunting and trembling, you managed to get one leg over the bar.

Choosing to peer down at Vernon, recall the safety of solid ground, you gulped. “This sucks ass!”

“You’re doin’ great!” He called, sticking out a thumbs-up to demonstrate his pride. “And you gave me a great view from down below.”

“Shut up!” You nagged him, though you were smiling widely.

Soon enough, your feet were back on the dirt.

Vernon smirked at you from across the fence. “Easy, right?”

“Even easier if you knew how to pick that lock.”

“Boohoo,” Vernon said. “Let me pull out my YouTube tutorial.”

Suddenly, he had hopped onto the fence, and in a few fast, swift movements, the boy was already scaling the top. Once he climbed down about halfway, he leapt off, landing neatly in the spot beside you, clapping off his calloused hands like he’d just shoved a pie into a warm oven.

“Show off,” you muttered.

“Always,” Vernon said with a click of the teeth.

He proceeded down the shallow hill toward the inner bowl of the scrap yard, and you supposed there was no other choice but to follow him, hurrying to match step with his stride. The junk piles were organized for the most part. Broken bicycles, car doors, and odd metal contraptions tossed into one mound, while others were slightly more miscellaneous but seeming tended to. You walked past a sewing machine that didn’t look too rough.

“Oh! Ruby would love this!”

Vernon stopped to glance at the machine. “Yeah? It looks like shit.”

“It’s just dirty,” you answered, nudging it with your foot.

“Let’s go shoppin’ later,” he insisted, picking up your hand and continuing to pull you in the direction of the RVs. “No distractions.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Together, you perched behind a rusted, red-striped fishing boat lifted off the ground by a steel trailer. Vernon let your hand drop, brushing something off his nose. The series of RVs were about twenty feet away, with reasonable distance in between them, their colours mostly ugly beiges and bleached creams with no discernible detail. You expected Minghao’s RV to have some freaky aquatic design painted across it—anything that might suggest which belonged to him—but there was no graffiti in sight.

With your fingers anxiously digging into your knees, you looked in between the RVs and back to Vernon. “How should we do this?”

“Cautiously,” he stated, and you giggled in response.

“That’s not a word I’d expect you to know.”

“Blame yourself,” Vernon rasped. “If you weren’t here, I could go about this any way I wanted. But we’re a unit now.”

“How sweet,” you muttered.

“Okay, this is what we’ll do,” Vernon announced. “I’ll take the trailer in the middle; you take the one closest to us. Start by lookin’ around the area, see if there’s a thing or two that gives Minghao vibes. Try to look in the windows if you can, but be careful, obviously. Listen for TVs, runnin’ water, couches squeakin’, doors openin’—anything that could indicate someone's inside—and we should have a signal if there’s a spat.”

“Like what?”

“How about a whistle? Can you whistle?”

“Barely,” you commented, forming the appropriate shape with your lips and blowing air through your teeth, hardly any noise.

“What the fuck was that?” He sneered.

“I was whistling!”

“You sound like a fuckin’ busted teakettle, man. That got ran over, and dragged for a kilometer. Okay, change of tactic. Ah—can you do this?” He layered his hands together, made a small opening between his thumbs, and proceeded to blow inside, mimicking the elegant sound of a loon.

You scowled at him. “If I sound like a busted teakettle, what makes you think I can make a freakin’ bird noise? Are your neurons okay?”

“Whatever—fuck the signal, actually. Let’s just get in and out.”

Vernon went around one side of the fishing boat while you crept along the other. He was quick, darting off to the central RV while keeping low, and you got the suspecting, blaring sense this was far from his first time hopping a fence or spying through another’s window. Moving slower in comparison, you approached the first RV. Your stomach was an unsettled hive of buzzing, frantic bees.

What if someone really was inside?

The vehicle wasn’t in the best condition. Worn wheels were sagging and the headlights were busted. Treading airy steps, you paced the perimeter of the vehicle. There were lawn chairs spread out in the back, propped between a plastic, cheap table sitting an ash tray and a few crushed beer cans. A makeshift firepit displayed the remnants of ashy, grey logs and charred newspaper, tiny pieces fluttering loose in the chilly breeze like snowfall.

Was this Minghao? Did this seem like him? Beer cans and ash trays?

Vernon knew him better. You should have requested insight.

You approached the RV, gliding your hand along its cold, smooth surface, until you stopped underneath a window. It was too tall to glance in, so you decided to grab one of the lawn chairs for assistance. The fabric didn’t seem very reliable. Letting your foot press deep onto the surface, the entire chair squeaked, seeming to bend inward on itself. But you took a breath, subtly applying more weight until you were fully standing on it.

“Jesus Christ…” you sighed quietly to yourself, fingers clasping the windowsill. “If this breaks, I’m never standing on anything again in my entire life.”

The curtains were closed apart from a tiny sliver down the middle.

It took all your concentration to not make a single noise as you attempted to peer through the opening. From your inspection, no one was inside. There was a sink with some fancy glass cups splayed around it. Basic wooden cupboards, tinted by age. A cuckoo clock near the door. An armchair embroidered by a dated pattern of roses. Whatever’s Minghao aura was, this didn’t seem to match. You thought back to his luxurious, long-swept coat, his chic, cherry-red hair, the chunky rings agleam on his fingers.

Stepping off the lawn chair, you knew this couldn’t be his RV.

You wondered if Vernon was having any luck. As you walked over to the RV centered in the yard, head cocked in an attempt to find where he had disappeared to, the boy suddenly exploded into you, grasping your hand and tearing you flush against the trailer’s wall.

“What the hell—”

His palm pressed over your mouth, muffling your voice.

“Shh!” He whispered. “There’s someone in this one!”

You grabbed his wrist, peeling away the contact. Hiding behind the RV didn’t seem very practical. “And you got their attention?”

“I was lookin’ in the front window, and this cat hopped up on the sill, started battin’ at me through the glass. Then this woman appeared from nowhere to grab him. I ducked. Dunno if she saw me or not.”

“And what are we supposed to—”

His hand was on your mouth again. “Shut up! You hear that?”

You were still as stone, listening. Apart from the blood rushing in your ears, adrenaline beginning to twitch throughout your body, you heard a noise echo from the front of the vehicle, a squeak, as though a door had opened. Vernon slowly removed his hand from your lips. You two exchanged a wrought look. Your chest was heaving in deep breaths.

“Did you see something, Mr. Big? Hm?”

A few seconds later, you heard a sharp, loud meow, almost demanding in its cadence. Vernon was chewing on his lip ring, hands placed flat to his waist. Instinctively, you pushed yourself closer against him, searching for a trace of his warm, smooth scent to keep your heart grounded.

“Okay. Show Mommy where.”

“Fuck,” Vernon cursed. “Little kitty’s gonna bust us.”

You grabbed onto his hand. “What do we do?”

An orange, plump cat with faint burnt stripes had padded its way around the corner of the RV, its long tail sticking up and flicking. Paw after paw, the cat started to approach you in a slow stride, and your nails dug straight into the inked skin of Vernon’s hand.

You knew you should run.

“Go away Mr. Big,” Vernon gritted his teeth and hissed at the approaching cat. But then the cat butted its square, flat head into Vernon’s leg, purring aloud, rubbing its cheek against his pants. You wanted to giggle despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Hey!” A lady stood at the corner, fists on her hips.

You and Vernon froze against each other.

She was older, her hair a greyish-brown, curly mess flipped over to one side, dressed in flipflops with fluffy green fur and a drooping night gown. While the cat continued persuading Vernon for attention, the lady opted to squint heavily at the two of you, the skin by her eyes wrinkling intensely.

“Qian?” The lady barked, her tone strict and cutting. “Is that you?”

You exchanged a worrisome, confused glance with Vernon. He looked down at the orange cat, gulping heavily, contemplating something.

“Qian!” She snapped again, taking a step closer. “Is that—”

“Uh, yes?” Vernon answered, wincing. “It’s me.”

“Who the hell is Qian?” You whispered, squirming with nerves.

Vernon spoke very lowly, “Minghao’s friend.”

“I told you; you can’t give sardines to Mr. Big anymore!”

“My apologies, m’mam…” he stuttered in response.

She paused, tilted her head. “Qian, you sound different.”

Vernon’s complexion turned pale. “Uh, that’s—”

“Your English has certainly come a long, long way. You barely spoke a word of it when I first met you.” She started to walk closer, her flipflops scuffing across the dusty ground. “Is that Mr. Big down there, by your feet? He thinks you’re about to give him another sardine. I left my glasses in the washroom, you know. I thought there was—” she immediately cut herself off, a gasp flushing out from her mouth. “Is that Biyu?!”

Her reference was clearly aimed at you.

Before you could even decide to speak, Vernon beat you to it.

“It is.”

“And what are you doing behind my trailer?”

Vernon sucked in a breath. “We’re—”

“Well, I’m sure Minghao will be impressed! Knowing his closest friend is out lollygagging around with his ex-girlfriend!” She babbled on and on, as though she hadn’t spoken to anyone in months apart from her cat, the words flowing out in a critical, fast-paced tone. “Have you no shame, the both of you? And you thought behind my trailer was a good place to start?”

Vernon scratched his head. “It won’t happen again.”

“I better hope not! Or else I’ll tell him straight away!”

At last, Vernon bent down, picking up the chunky orange cat that had been sitting at his feet, licking a paw. He gave the cat a few scratches behind its tufted ear before handing him off to his owner.

“There you are, Mr. Big,” she cooed. “Come back to Mommy.”

Your lips pressed together tightly.

While she kept the cat wrapped up against her chest using a single arm, bouncing him like a baby, she had suddenly gripped onto Vernon’s wrist. Moving away from the trailer, your heart plunged.

“Lord—when did you get all this ink?!” She exclaimed. Vernon wasn’t given the opportunity to answer. It seemed to be dawning on her that perhaps the young man with golden-brown eyes, facial piercings, an undeniable gruffness in his voice, and plentiful tattoos wasn’t Qian.

She opened her mouth, thin lips stretched, the breath in her throat hitching. “You… you aren’t Qian…” the lady’s words warped with confusion and shock. “And that isn’t…” keeping the tubby cat cradled against her chest, she pushed around Vernon to approach you. “That can’t be Biyu.”

You felt magnetized to the wall of the trailer. Her eyes were slimmed to a permanent squint as she seemed to be taking in your every detail, the floral, piney scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses, the deep wrinkles of her skin twisting. “No! You can’t be Biyu! She’s much prettier!” The lady whipped around, her cat meowing sharply, as she glared at Vernon. “You two are lying trespassers!”

“No, I’m Qian,” Vernon persisted, smiling.

Shooting him straight-faced daggers, you couldn’t believe he was deciding to push his luck. Everything was totally, undeniably screwed.

“You are not!” She stuck a finger in his face. “Who are you?!”

“Woah, woah, woah. I think you need your glasses before you start with the accusations.” He proceeded to shoulder around her, sliding his arm along your waist, as you stood stiffly, still offended that this lady in her lime-green flip flops and dusty nightgown had called you unattractive in a roundabout insult. “They have chains for em’, no? So you can’t lose ‘em?”

She flung out her arm. “Leave! Right now!”

Vernon clasped his fingers around yours, beginning to pull you away. “I’ll get you a pair for Christmas!” He shouted. “You’ll love it!”

You two began running back up the sloping path that had led downward into the scrap yard, refusing to look back. Digging your nails into the warm skin of Vernon’s hand, you grumbled, “why did you push it?!”

“I didn’t push it!” He laughed.

“She figured out we were lying! And then you got smart!”

At the fence, you two paused to catch your breath.

Vernon smirked at you. “Still want that shitty sewin’ machine?”

Your eyes rolled. There was no point in going back and forth, and so you refused to wait for him, clutching onto the fence and beginning to haul yourself up impatiently, feeling humiliated.

“So, that’s a no?!” He yelled as you reached the top.

If you had the sewing machine, you would have dropped it on him.

“I don’t get what you’re so ticked about. We know the last trailer has to be Minghao’s. And, so what we got busted? That lady can’t see two feet in front of her. For all she knows, I’m Willy fuckin’ Wonka.”

“Oh, yeah,” you retorted dryly. “Because who else could it be? A tattooed, face-pierced liar and a random, apparently very unattractive girl sleuthing around Minghao’s home. Oh, wow,” your voice pitched in a sarcastic tone, hands slapped to your face in mock dramatics. “He’ll be so puzzled! Who could it be?”

Vernon kissed his teeth, keeping his sight on the flat, long road that the car shot down. “Minghao’s probably hardly ever there. Can’t see him bein’ real eager to dish about life with his youthful neighbours.”

“We could have so easily screwed everything up.”

“And we didn’t.”

“You don’t know that!” The frustration belted out in a cry.

The boy shook his head, reaching for the stereo. “Let’s just agree to disagree,” he said, reaching for the knob on his radio. A crackle vibrated through the tired speakers; his phone plugged into the radio using a stringy cable that looked like it might electrocute whoever touched it. “I need my brain to be completely empty.”

“Great…” you muttered, head tilted woefully in the direction of your window, the corners still tinged with frost. “I hate hearing, anyway.”

Vernon snorted. “That’s ‘cause you have to listen to yourself.”

If it weren’t for the finest string of self-control that you unspooled from your insides, then you would have kept up the bickering until he capitulated, and that was rarer than a flying pig. At that point of your relationship, it was almost second nature to chastise each other. You still couldn’t tell if it was making you more or less sensitive.

By the time you arrived back to your apartment, you were surprised the universe wasn’t ringing. Vernon loved to blast his music like the angels were eager to hear every word from heaven, though he had played it notably quieter than usual. You tossed him a lacklustre thank you for his chaperoning duties, beginning to shove outside the car, but the boy’s hand was on your shoulder and he was pushing you back into the seat.

“I have work tomorrow,” you whined. “What is it?”

“And you go to bed at three o'clock? Wow, you really are a loser.”

You smacked his arm. “And you made me climb a fence!”

“Okay, you’re not usually like this,” Vernon took it upon himself to point out, leaning against his door while squinting at you intrusively. “I mean, you can be annoyin’ about things, but this is different.” He started rubbing his chin, pinching at his adam’s apple. “What’s the matter?”

The simple question sparked your laugh. “Yes, let’s discuss it.”

He gestured at you, nodding. “Let’s.”

“That was sarcasm, dummy,” you clarified. “Nothing’s the matter, except for the fact I wanna take a hot bath.” Again, you attempted to open your door, but Vernon was quick to lean over, pulling it shut. When you tried again, he wouldn’t let it open even an inch.

“Hey!” You yelped.

“C’mon, talk to me,” he encouraged, his voice warm.

“Vernon, I’m serious. There’s nothing to—”

“Is this ‘cause of the party? The fact I said you shouldn’t go?” He resumed touching his chin, his head tilted in question. “Is that the problem?”

You couldn’t help scoffing.

His eyebrows leapt upward, and he hummed. “Ahh, so that’s it.”

“Well, you know what, actually…” purposefully keeping your delivery soft and vulnerable, you started to entertain him. “Maybe it was the fact your friend was twenty minutes late, you absolutely hated the idea of me going to a party with you, you made me climb a fence, twice,” your tone started to strip itself of the daintiness, “only to potentially ruin our entire game plan! And then I basically got called ugly by some reclusive lady who smells like a funeral home and whose best friend is her cat! And now I know the entirety of No Hands from start to finish and it’s going to keep me up at night because all I can hear is R-O-S-C-O-E, Mr. Shawty-Put-It-On-Me, I be going HAM, shawty upgrade from bologna! And it’s all your fault!” The breath was beating against your lungs, causing your chest to noticeably shrink and expand.

Vernon’s lips twitched into a smile. “I knew you liked that song.”

“It’s not a matter of liking it!” You shouted while rolling down your window using the crank, feeling the chilled breeze. “It’s just catchy!”

“Well,” the boy cleared the rasp from his throat, proceeding to sit up straighter, focusing his attention. “Do you understand why I was insistent you shouldn’t go? Because I know for a fact you’ll hate it.”

“Okay!” You cried out, shrugging. “So I’ll hate it! So I’ll be miserable! Don’t you think I can assume some of that myself? What if I wanted to hear ‘I’d love it if you were there, but you should know…’ blah, blah, blah. But you just shot me down! You made it seem like—like—you would hate it if I were there. That you wouldn’t want to see me at all…”

Vernon leaned forward, shaking his head, while your fingers twisted together anxiously in your lap, your lip quivering, eyes delicately burning.

“No, PJ’s,” he murmured. “Of course not.”

“But that’s what I heard,” you urged him. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Vernon answered. He set his hand atop your wrist, gave you a reassuring, comfortable squeeze. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it like that,” the boy admitted, his voice gritty but gentle. “It doesn’t matter where we are—whenever I see you—I get this soarin’ feelin’ deep in my chest. And then it flows everywhere in my body. Makes me feel like I can grow wings. It’s like… I dunno… you give me a weird high that no other drug could ever do. And I want it more and more, every day.” He paused, his fingers finding their way in between yours, laced together, gripping your sweaty hand so firm and strong. He bit his lip. “I want you more and more.”

Immediately, your face cracked into a smile. All that irritability thinned out, gone like a dense morning fog when the sun catches its blaze. Adverting your timid stare away from his sincere, straightforward eyes that dilated more with every second, you giggled out, “stop…”

He let go of your hand to brush something off your cheek with a few soft strokes from his thumb. “Stop what?” Vernon teased. “Hm?” He then slid his hand around the back of your neck, and you could feel the massaging, warm pressure from the boy’s rough fingertips. The muscles in your thighs automatically clenched. “If you tell me I can’t want you, I’ll only want you more,” he laughed. “You know, I hate goin’ back to my place even more than I did before. Can’t stand the sight of my bed without you in it.”

Your gut was insistent that you give in. But your cautionary heart and mind were ringing the alarm bells. Playfully, you shoved him away, though the sensitive skin of your neck was still sizzling hot from his touch, and you crossed one leg overtop the other, sealing up yourself tightly.

“I’m sure that line was recycled from five other girls,” you mumbled, eyes rolling. “So you can kindly recycle it back into your mouth.”

“But I never meant it with them.”

Your chuckle was short and dry. “Sure.”

“Well… if you want to go to Moo’s shitshow, then be my guest.”

“Really?” You responded in disbelief. “What’s the catch?”

Vernon sighed. “Please bring Ruby.”

“I was gonna do that anyway.”

He leaned over to push open the car door. “You’re fuckin’ free, Pyjamas. Go take your hot bath. Send me a picture, yeah?”

Upon stepping outside onto the curb, you bent down for a goodbye, smiling. “Yes, I will send you a fully clothed picture of myself fresh from the bath with all my acne patches on. I will make it my utmost priority.”

“Can’t wait,” he answered, flashing you a teething, dirty smirk, though his honeyed eyes were far too shining and pure for it to be anything other than his honest excitement. “I’ll text you the info when I know it.”

As expected, Ruby didn’t show as much hesitance to the idea compared to Vernon. She had been attempting to get you clubbing ever since she had known you, and although that triumph was still far away, the opportunity currently presenting itself was much more idealistic. Nonetheless, she was still cautious to indulge you. Ruby didn’t know all of Vernon’s acquaintances—merely a small droplet in a gigantic bucket—but from what she did know, it was enough to prompt her careful lecturing. When you told her that you knew what Vernon was like high, she cackled flippantly directly into your face before highlighting that Vernon dazed off a blunt was much different than him off three lines of coke. You knew she had a point.

The closer it came to Saturday night, the more nervous you became, and the more doubt infested your insistence that had seemed so unshakeable. You thought about how much you still didn’t know when it came to Vernon, the fact you only observed pieces of his life through flashes, like seeing your transient reflection against a speeding car. But now you were taking a much deeper step. What if everything changed? What if you couldn’t handle it? What if this was all just a disguised test to understand if you could really visualize yourself patched into Vernon’s life, despite all the evidence against it? However, you ignored those thoughts very willfully.

And then it was Saturday night.

Ruby was getting ready in the washroom while you went through the clothes in your closest. Your styles and personalities were quite distinguished from each other in almost every sense. When Ruby got ready, she would bring her wireless speaker with her, letting it sit on the sink countertop amongst the widespread mess of her expensive makeup and brushes, singing along to the lyrics of her favourite R&B artists. When you got ready, you pretty much sat in silence at your desk, keeping any touch-ups to your face minimal because you never really learned how to do makeup and it seemed too difficult to figure out now.

You could hear Ruby’s tone-deaf singing. “Can you distract me from all the disaster? Can you touch on me and not call me after? Can you hate on me and mask it with laughter?” Her grating voice was actually pleasantly distracting.

Unsurprisingly, your roommate took her sweet time getting ready, urging you not to worry since, “who the fuck shows up to a party on time?” But once she was done, presenting you the final look, you applauded her prancing around the living room accordingly. Unlike you, Ruby had been experimenting with her hair and makeup consistently, since she was a tween, her flawless skin and thick, loosely curled hair looking like velvet. She then forced you to watch an episode of her soapy drama before booking the ride to Moo’s place, somewhere far, where there was more swamp and grass and mosquitoes than houses and people.

It wasn’t until you were strapped into the backseat that you felt sick.

“Moo?” Ruby squawked, looking down at her phone. “Who’s he?”

You swallowed; your mouth dehydrated. “He’s the host, Ruby.”

“Oh, well, he just requested to follow me on IG. I wonder if Vernon gave my handle to him… he’s a bit cute… but these pictures—feeling myself like I lost my keys—interesting caption. But that Hellcat is definitely not his!” She continued to babble, mostly to herself, during the car ride to Moo’s house. You listened on occasion, caught between engaging her talkative splurges and contemplating how hard the driver might judge you for rolling down the window and upchucking your lunch onto the road.

Finally, you arrived.

“Thanks! Have a great night!” Ruby chirped aloud to the driver who seemed to pull off questionably fast. She started walking up the driveway, but you grabbed her wrist, drawing the girl into a wobble.

“Wait,” you said worriedly. “How do I… look?”

Ruby licked her thumb and smoothed it along one of your eyebrows, and then adjusted the spaghetti straps to the top hidden underneath the long coat you borrowed from the girl’s wardrobe. “Stunning.”

 “Are you sure?”

“Of course!” She exclaimed. Her hands were suddenly gripping your shoulders, her hazel eyes accented by the smoky flare of an umber powder sharpened into knife-like points. “Look, I know it’s easier said than done, but even if you have to fake it, confidence is key! This crowd is definitely not what you’re used to, and even for me this is a stretch, but the great thing about high people, they only care about getting higher. So, in a way, no one cares about you.”

 You were able to laugh at her comment. “Makes sense. Thanks.”

Ruby removed her hands from your shoulders. “Besides, as long as you’re there, I’ll be there. If you need me at any point, I won’t be far.”

Appreciating your roommate’s comfort, you proceeded to breathe out your anxious thoughts, even giving your body a jitter to physically shake off the nerves. Together, you walked up the driveway. The house seemed small from the outside. An open window allowed you to hear distant music and excited, jumbled layers of conversation, smell the burnt, stingy aroma of marijuana. Ruby knocked a pattern against the door, loud and certain.

It didn’t take long before you recognized Moo.

“Hey!” He shouted, a beer bottle clasped in one hand, his cheeks rounded in a welcoming smile. “Fuck—uh—you’re Ruby, right?”

Your roommate nodded. “Indeed.”

“Anddd,” Moo sang while turning to you, squinting one eye shut, his forehead creased and his brow raised in thought. “PJ? Did I get it?”

While you did consider correcting him on the nickname, you decided it was best to just stick with what he already knew. “That works.”

“Fuck yeah. Well, enter the pad, ladies.” He stood aside, keeping the door held open as you and Ruby shuffled into the front foyer—a narrow hallway—the walls blanketed in jackets, the floor swathed with shoes toppled over each other.

Ruby shrugged off her coat, chuckling, “are there any hooks?”

“Oh, certainly!” Moo exclaimed just before he set the beer bottle to his lips. “I think there’s one near the back, right on the left!” As Ruby primly set her coat onto the hook, you couldn’t help but note how Moo’s eyes started to drag down her body, practically bulging at her bum. “Damn!”

She turned around, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Sorry?”

“Uh,” Moo coughed into his elbow. “Sorry—just—stepped on something! Can’t lie, haven’t vacuumed this rug in a dog’s age.”

You held your lips in a flat, downturned line.

“Oh,” Ruby hummed. “Good to know, I guess.” She then looked at you, gesturing for the coat folded in your arms. “I’ll find a place for it.”

Moo encouraged you to join him in the kitchen once you were ready, to which he disappeared through the threshold in the slim, dark hallway. Once he was gone, you instantly told Ruby, “he gagged at your ass!”

She tossed the hair over her shoulder, snorting, “I know.”

“Men are pigs!” You quipped.

“And we’re in the pigpen,” Ruby answered, giggling.

The kitchen was just on the other side of the front foyer. It was a fairly small, intimate space, with the dining table opposite from it, and a bigger opening into the living room, where most people seemed to congregate. From your flying, uneasy glances between faces, you had yet to see Vernon, and that seemed to make your stomach drop like a brick. The kitchen countertops were crowded with empty cans, cutting boards, rolling papers, ash trays, and opened bags of salted snacks. Moo swung open the fridge, reaching around inside before he offered the both of you a drink.

“I’ll take anything spicy,” Ruby said, making sure to raise her voice so she could be heard over the living room’s vivacious, bubbly chatter.

You swayed on the balls of your feet. “A water is fine.”

“What about juice?” Ruby offered, brushing down your arm.

“Sorry,” Moo apologized, pulling out a beer can. “We just used the last of the juice for drinks. Cups are to your right. Tap water’s all I got.”

Teeth gnawed at your inner cheek as you opened Moo’s concerningly loose cupboard, pulling down a dusty, plastic cup. You squirmed around him to reach the sink. Water didn’t start spraying from the tap until you had turned the knob several times, to which a rumbling, guttural noise sounded from the pipes. Attempting not to make it obvious, you sniffed the water before drinking it, noting a strong mineral scent.

“So, Ruby?” Moo leaned against the counter. “Is that ‘cause of the red streaks in your hair? Which are very pretty, by the way.”

Your roommate shrugged. “Well, thank you, but I’m pretty sure I was named Ruby before I ever had red streaks in my hair.” She cracked open her beer. “It’s the stone associated with my birth month—July.”

He gritted his teeth, chuckling off the embarrassment. “Ah, you make a good point. I love that. What’s my birthstone? I’m born in May.”

The girl laughed, “I don’t know the others, just my own!”

“See, I’m gonna have to Google that later.”

“Please, don’t hesitate,” she answered, fluttering a sweet smile.

At that moment, someone else squeezed into the kitchen, a man whom smelled like firewood and rich cologne. He was tall, cutting in between you and Moo with the height of his body.

Moo hardly noticed, keeping the sparks of conversation lit with Ruby, while you were ungracefully separated by the stranger digging through the fridge, his large back all you could see. Upon pulling out a silver can, he shimmied his way out. You sighed, plucking some lint off your top, before reinserting yourself into the conversation that you hadn’t been a part of, anyway.

“No, no, that’s my dad’s…” Moo was saying, rubbing his neck.

Ruby cackled. “I knew it!”

“Does this place look like it should have a fuckin’ Hellcat in the driveway? Nah, I got my Nissan fuckin’ Micra. Pussy magnet.”

She sipped from the beer; eyes kept trained to Moo as he only inched his way closer toward her. “Humble king,” Ruby commented.

“If you ever wanna take a spin in it,” Moo enticed, lifting up a shoulder and tugging at his bottom lip, “you can be my humble queen.”

Oh, god.

You were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to find Vernon, wherever he was tucked away. Dumping the remaining water into the sink and leaving the plastic cup with it, you nodded briefly at Ruby while escaping the kitchen, assuming she knew what you had in mind. Nobody slumped at the dinner table seemed coherent, so you tapped on the arm of a girl sat at the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up at you, her eyes a watery, stinging red. Smoke rolled out ghostily from between her lips.

“Sorry to bother,” you squeaked. “But, uh, you know Vernon?”

The girl nodded. She then dug into the couch cushions, pulling out what resembled a small, black container with an attached mouthpiece.

Swallowing nervously, you asked, “where would he be?”

While she fixed her mouth around the attachment and started to slowly, deeply breathe in, the girl flicked a finger toward the hallway behind her, with a door planted at the very end. You smiled, thanking her, although you weren’t entirely sure what do next. Was it a bedroom? Were you allowed to just waltz in? Could Vernon be in there… with someone else?

You stood at the door, noticing a mild trembling in your hands.

But you didn’t sink into the doubt. Instead, you hailed Ruby’s words of encouragement, straightened out your shoulders, fixed your chin high, and pushed the door open. Simultaneously, you were braced to see the absolute worst. However, it wasn’t what you expected. The room was dark apart from a television’s fuzzy, twitching glow that washed across the carpet and bed in faint, blue hues. Someone was sitting in an armchair poised close to the TV, seeming completely dissonant, a smoking blunt of some sort caught in their fingers. There were two people relaxed on the bed, a cutting board in between them, a woman you had never seen, and… Vernon.

She dipped her head down after arranging a small, neat white line using a pocket knife. Vernon flipped her long hair to one side as she reached the board, sucking the powder up her nostril with a casual, easy quickness. “Fuck,” the woman cursed, her voice gritty, wiping off her nose with a finger and smearing whatever powder stuck across her tongue. “That’s fuckin’ sharp. I'm gonna be on the moon.”

Vernon smirked. “They cut with fuckin' crystals.”

She laughed, flipping back her hair. “That’s pure ice, babe.”

You definitely felt as though you were interrupting something private, but it would have been more awkward to simply stand there, watching, until someone noticed you. Letting the door fall shut, you forced on a crooked smile and stepped closer into the bedroom, clearing your throat to make your presence known.

Both Vernon and the woman looked your way. For a slow, trudging moment, Vernon didn’t recognize you, and he looked annoyed.

She huffed. “Sorry, sweets. I’d give you a lick but this shit cost me a motherfuckin’ arm and a leg to get. You’re better off, anyway.”

The twinkling aura of the light reflected off her arms and her pronounced chest, the skin needled with tattoos that wrapped around her like snakes made of black ink. She had similar facial piercings to Vernon, though her nose was pierced, too. Just from her temperament, you could tell she was a bit older in age, perhaps in her late twenties, and assumed she must be the one Moo referenced in their conversation at the hanger, the one who took that vacation to Europe and was able to scoop something good.

“Oh, what the fuck?” Vernon shook his head. “PJ’s?”

You started to smile, hands wringing together. “I’m here.”

“No shit,” he answered, pushing himself off the bed. Cemented to your place on the shoddy carpet, you let Vernon approach you, one arm weaving around the back of your neck while the other wrapped your waist, pulling you into his firm body. “Didn’t know you were here.”

Timidly, you held onto him, fingers feeling along the fabric of his white t-shirt, your smile refusing to fade. “I haven’t been here long.”

“No?” He mumbled in question, letting his hands fall onto your hips as he began to rescind the closeness. It was right then that you noticed the difference in his eyes—those pupils were extremely dilated—dark like the ocean without any moonlight, almost… shimmering, twitching, coursing with energy that made you stiffen ever so slightly. Vernon sunk his thumbs into the waistband of your jeans, hooking you, dragging you further into his chest. “You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured, the husk in his voice thicker than usual. “I’ve missed you all week. What kinda bullshit is that, huh?”

You giggled, lips pressing together, taking in the close-up beauty of his gentle features, how such softness seemed to betray him. “Me too,” you answered, sniffling. “I’ve never seen your eyes like this.”

He chuckled. “You’ve never seen me off coke.” Vernon then turned around, gesturing to the woman who was now sprawled on her side across the bed. “Especially the fuckin’ wild shit this lunatic gets. This is Kitty.”

“Uh, hi.” You waved at her, feeling small under her piercing gaze.

Kitty nodded, tilting her head. “Your next girlfriend, Vernon?”

You gulped while Vernon shot back at her, “you’re fuckin’ nasty.”

“Quel surprise.” She winked a hooded eye, tongue prodding along a glimmering tooth in her mouth. “But I guess you would know better than most.” Kitty slid off the bed, proceeding to straighten out her short, skin-gripping skirt that didn’t leave much to be revealed. “I’m gonna use the washroom, you know, to freshen up.” She sauntered past you, out the door, leaving behind a whiff of her strong, powerful aroma, like a dark cherry.

Vernon groaned. “She’s a fuckin’ psychopath.” He returned to the bed, flopping beside the cutting board. There was a baggie left on it.

Continuing to hold your place, you exhaled nervously, looking around the bedroom and its unusual blankness. “Who’s that?” You asked, pointing at the guy in the chair with the burning blunt. He hadn’t moved an inch since you walked in the room.

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Vernon answered, coughing against his elbow. “That’s Snozz, Moo’s roommate. Dude’s got narcolepsy.”

Your lips pursed. “Are you serious?”

Vernon folded his arms. “Yeah. Cool, huh?”

“Well… I don’t know… I feel like it’s a bit… inconvenient.”

“So are the pills he pops every fuckin’ week. Dude’s got every battle there is. But we keep an eye on him.” He wriggled up against the wooden headboard, propping an arm across his bent knee. “Now, come sit with me,” Vernon invited, nodding toward the available space. “Hard to see how gorgeous you look when you’re so far.”

While approaching the bed, you couldn’t help but take another glance at Moo’s roommate, Snozz, sunken into the armchair. His head was collapsed awkwardly onto his shoulder, fronds of long, brown hair masking his eyes, a slight fissure between his lips. You wondered how long he had been asleep; his blunt was still glowing but the television was jouncing static.

You sat beside Vernon, the cutting board in between you.

He picked it up. “Don’t need this shit anymore.” And placed it on the adjacent night table. “Unless you wanna finish Kitty’s pixie dust?”

Squishing up your tight shoulders, you shook your head. “Nope.”

Despite the heavy shadows, you could see the soft grin develop on his face, however, you also noticed him pick up the small baggie off the cutting board. There was hardly any powder left inside it, but that didn’t deter Vernon from dragging a finger along the inside of his cheek and using the moisture to collect the rest. You watched him rub the powder across his gums, wondering how much was already in his system, waiting to activate, already activated.

“Shouldn’t you have left the rest for Kitty?”

Vernon cackled, scratching his eye. “Hell no! She owes me. I busted my ass last year to get her the purest shit on the market for New Year’s.”

“Hm.” You nodded, curling your legs underneath you.

He slid down the bed sluggishly until he his head was cushioned on a pillow, proceeding to tuck his arms underneath it. The boy stared up at the ceiling as though it were a night sky scattered with iridescent galaxies, beginning to grin, bite onto his lip, giggle. “She thinks she’s such a peach, gettin’ this fancy European shit for us, but she’s a moocher to her core, always lookin’ for scraps. Damn—fuckin’ Snozz took one line and now he’s incapacitated!” He flung an arm out toward the chair. “He went off his meds for this shit! She should be in here babysittin’ his narcoleptic ass.”

Unsure of what to say, you merely clasped onto your hands harder, smiled like your mouth was being pulled back by someone else’s invasive fingers. This side of Vernon was foreign to you, not to mention extremely unnerving.

“Was Moo alright?” Vernon asked.

For a moment, the unstable catch in his words was gone, and you managed to breathe a little easier. “He was kind,” you answered, smoothing a hand along your jeans. “Definitely more interested in chatting up Ruby.”

“Shit!” He yelled, suddenly slamming upward. “I fuckin’ forgot Ruby’s here!” Rapidly patting down his pockets, Vernon then pulled out his phone, incorrectly thumbing the passcode in several times. You observed him open his text messages, select your roommate’s contact, and type out a string of mismatched letters that he struggled to send her. “Fuck—I can’t believe I forgot she was here! Aw, I miss her, y’know?” He buckled into a concerning haze of coughing and laughing, leaning over his elbow while his back shuddered like shifting plates. “She parties hard. I fuckin’ miss that, dude. I think a bit of you’s leaked into her. Fuck, she used to get so dirty. She’s vanilla now.”

Wincing, you tried not to let your disconcertedness bleed through, although your heart was noticeably heavier in your chest, pumping hard, making the air feel denser to breathe. “Uh…” you prodded in a weak, uncertain tone, nails digging into the bed. “Meaning what?”

Vernon slid off the bed. He started swaying, massaging the knobs of his scuffed, scabbed knuckles. “She has limits now—I’ve gotta be home by eleven, I can only take three shots, I’m just smokin’ for an hour—she didn’t give no fucks about that before.” He marched over to Snozz, removing the dulled, orange blunt from his fingers. “When she worked at Puttin’-Edge, she was a fuckin’ deviant. She’d take almost anything, man. You couldn’t tear her away from the function until she was on the verge of blackin’ out.”

Inadvertently, your eyebrows furrowed together. “That sounds healthier to me. I’m proud she’s winding down a bit. She’s still herself.”

“I know, I know,” Vernon muttered, sounding almost agitated as he puffed Snozz’s blunt. “Not fuckin’ sayin’ she’s a goddamn prude, just that I miss her crazy.” He ruffled a hand through his hair, tousling the black tresses. Then he was pulling a lighter out from his pocket, keeping the blunt held between his lips while he crisped it using the strong flame. “Fuck, I’m stargazin’ now, PJ’s,” he laughed hoarsely around a cloud of smoke.

You didn’t know what to do.

Vernon’s energy was disseminating throughout the room. It was like a sparkler, drawing hectic, amorphous shapes into the dark that remained in place for only a second before fading.

And you couldn’t keep up.

Suddenly, the door burst open. In paraded Kitty, twirling herself around the room, holding onto a small, black box with a mouthpiece, very similar to the girl’s from before. You heard her singing, words slurring into each other, careless in every sense. While you were utterly lost, Vernon seemed to recognize her messily constructed melody, singing along with her as they grooved in circles.

“C'mon, Snozz!” Kitty shouted, dropping to her knees in front of him as he remained fast asleep. “Let’s hear you sing!” She continued her musical number, grabbing Snozz by his shoulders, then holding up his head by tufts of fluffy hair, pressing the lyrics into his ear.

You were dead stiff.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ weirdo!” Vernon cackled.

Kitty tossed her hair back, laughing deliriously. “He needs fun!” She stumbled over to the bed where you were huddled akin to a sopping wet kitten caught in a flash freeze, watching her collapse onto the covers, praying you were invisible. Kitty breathed in, her device crackling, and exhaled a thick, rolling smoke that had a distinct, sweet smell. “Especially you,” she purred, capturing you in her enlarged, misty eyes. “You need fun.”

“Well, actually, I—”

“Vernon and Kitty are in the bedroom!” Someone shouted, interrupting your non-existent rebuttal after popping their head into the room.

And then the floodgates broke. About six or seven people streamed into the dark space, squawking over each other, muddling the air with a concoction of bitter smells and escalating the temperature to an uncomfortable warmth in a matter of mere seconds. Somebody found the remote control for the television. In a few blips, there was a music channel playing, the volume cranked until a consistent, rhythmic club beat was all you could hear. It was terrible. Wanting to spend some time with Vernon away from the chaos had morphed into a gathering for the completely inebriated.

Now, the chaos was taunting you at every angle.

Kitty crawled closer, holding the box between her teeth.

She proceeded to sit clumsily on her knees, legs opened wide, enough to see her underwear if you were curious to look. But she had such blissful unawareness, taking in another huff from her vape, letting the burn settle in her throat before blowing everything out. Your wrinkled, displeased face caught the brunt of a manufactured flavour you didn’t particularly appreciate.

“Seriously, babe,” Kitty drawled, scooting herself closer toward you, her knees nudging yours. “I have tablets. And they’re low dose. Easy.”

“Uh, that’s fine.” Gosh—your tone was so blatantly fragile—it sounded like your voice was thin glass. “I really don’t want any.”

“Yeah,” Kitty laughed, gasping for air, but instead lifting the vape to her round, full lips. “You don’t want them! I can see that!” She took another restless hit. You made sure to hold your breath. “But you definitely fuckin’ need ‘em, baby girl! It’ll take the edge off! I’ll even half the price!”

Abruptly, another body flopped onto the bed, toward the foot. Kitty turned around, and together, you watched a girl climb her way onto a man’s lap, arching her back smoothly as she bent over him, the tips of her fingers tickling down his face before their lips brushed in a kiss.

“Ew!” Kitty screamed around the mouthpiece to her vape. “Get a fuckin’ room, you sick freaks!” She pushed against the girl’s tiny arm, though it was a frivolous, teasing touch without scalding intention.

As you anxiously rubbed the back of your hand against your thrumming forehead, you felt a slickness, quickly realizing that the crown of your hair was dampened with sweat. Vernon blended into the crowd well. It seemed there were more people in the room, and no matter how intensely your eyes sorted between the dazed faces, none were recognizable. You attempted to shuffle off the bed, but Kitty had caught you, luring you sit back down. And you did, despite your gut hollering in vehement protest.

“I wanna know—,” she sang, pulling at a long loop of dyed hair close to her ear, “—and don’t take offense to it, sweetheart. But why come here if you weren’t planning on getting fucked up?” Almost to emphasize her point, she returned the vape to her lips. “Like, are you a masochist?”

Huddling away from a man standing a little too close to the bed, you rubbed along your arm in a pitiful attempt to self-soothe. “I-I, I don’t really…” you couldn’t think, and watching Kitty’s wide, unmoving eyes delightfully swallow your fear had you frozen. “I don’t know.”

“Because of Vernon?”

You couldn’t answer.

She suddenly cackled, head tossed back. The device hissed while she secured her lips around the mouthpiece, sucking in. When Kitty elaborated through a drifting screen of smoke, you couldn’t be bothered to hold your breath at the smell—you needed to breathe—your body wasn’t giving you a choice. “That’s cute,” the girl giggled. “Although, are you sure you’re completely sober? I know Vernon’s type…” her gaze subtly flickered over you in a heartbeat, “and I’m not sure how well you tick the boxes.” She flipped the hair off her shoulder, laughing. “You must be nasty in bed, then.”

When you swallowed, smudging your lips together, they felt drier than old, strained leather. It was near impossible to speak. Every word quivered, leaving your twitching tongue with such timidness and dread. “I-I don’t know…” you laughed brokenly. “I just—I think I’m gonna—"

“Know what I miss most about Vernon?” Kitty interrupted, her head tilting to the side, cheek rubbing her shoulder as though she were reminiscing a memory so magnificent and tender. But then her stare shot toward you, hardened, challenging, devilish. “How he would fuck me until my brain melted.” You swallowed, trembling. “He told me I was the best at taking him, that no one would ever compare.” Kitty started smirking, dragging a hand up her thigh, slow and flirtatious, as though she were retracing a sensual touch. “No pressure or anything!” Her taunting façade vanished, the smirk replaced by a smile, the challenging tone replaced by a nonchalant, almost encouraging warmth. But you knew it wasn’t genuine. Not at all.

“Thanks for sharing,” you sighed, completely deflated.

A part of you bristled with the urge to be more assertive as opposed to reclusive, but it was a very small part, enough to feel yet not enough to follow through with a vengeance.

Understanding the conversation was done now that Kitty had put you in your place with a calculated slash of humiliation, you slid off the bed, pushing around the bodies packed into the room. Regret had never raised so fast from the depth of your stomach. You could taste the acridness tangy in your mouth, feel the moment’s inertia, how the atmosphere seemed to be pulling you down with every step. How on Earth could you think this was a good idea? That you could somehow fit into Vernon’s life like a perfect building block? Were you really that delusional? That naïve?

Entering into the living room, you weren’t able to make it far without someone stepping into your way. So—he had left the bedroom.

“Where’re you off to?” Vernon asked.

You were too miserable to feign any softness. “I’m leaving.”

As you attempted to weave past him, Vernon opposed you. He tucked the blunt behind his ear, the edges of his lips furling into a disbelieving smile. “Fuck, you just got here PJ’s. Can’t be leavin’ so soon.”

“Well, I am,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Goodnight, Vernon.”

Again, he cut you off, stepping into your way. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay… so you’re headin’ out early 'cause…?”

“Because I want to. Now, can you please move?”

Predictably, the boy ignored your plea. He still wasn’t himself, and he wouldn’t be for a while. You didn’t want to speak with him regardless of his intoxication. The stinging, draping heaviness of your misjudgment was like a smothering blanket and Vernon was merely keeping the hot fabric trapped around you. His gaze seemed lost, refusing to connect the pieces.

You watched him shake his head. “No… somethin’ happened. And now it’s got you all upset, and you won’t fuckin’ tell me.”

Groaning, you shouldered past him forcefully. “Thanks, detective!”

He grabbed your wrist.

You whipped around, wresting for it back. “Vernon!”

“Let’s talk outside.” He nodded at the sliding glass doors across the carpeted living room. “No one’s out there. C’mon.” When you resisted his pulling with a deep scowl, he immediately opted for a different technique of zero patience, one that involved sweeping you off your damn feet and carrying you in his toned arms like a newlywed bride.

“Vernon!” You hollered; your cheeks aroused with heat. “Put me—p-put me down—you freaking idiot!” People were looking, but they didn’t seem to assume much, even stepping aside to let Vernon through the open sliding doors onto the cement platform. He dropped you down, and you stumbled, wobbling into a plastic lawn chair. “What the hell is your issue!”

“Okay,” he huffed, closing the curtains before pulling the sliding glass door shut. “Now that we’ve got some real privacy—” he turned toward you, “—let’s talk.”

“Talk about what!” You yelled. “I said I wanted to leave!”

“And you can,” Vernon encouraged, “as soon as you tell me—”

“It doesn’t matter what happened!” Standing behind the white lawn chair to place distance in between you, your head swung adamantly. “I’m glad it happened, actually. Because now I understand how stupid and delusional I've been!” You refused to look at Vernon, flickering your glassy eyes toward a buzzing lantern along the brick, trapped with dead leaves.

“Okay,” he hummed. “About what?”

“Stop,” you demanded.

He laughed, throwing out his arms. “Stop what?”

The answer didn’t come to you.

Nothing was. Inside your head was loud, overpowering static that deflected every possible thought, from the articulate to nonsensical, just like the television inside the bedroom. Not even the brisk, feathering cold of the pure night could penetrate you.

Vernon grabbed onto the lawn chair, moving it aside. You let him press into your melancholic aurora because you would and always have let him do just about anything. He pulled the most delicate strings inside you that you had never sensed before. He sparked feelings your body and mind had never experienced. It was like riding an unbelievable wind that refused to let your feet touch the ground, keeping you petrified but addicted to the freedom. And when you were back on Earth, it wasn’t long before you hated it, before you desperately wanted the rise, the gust, the weightlessness.

He told you that you were like a drug to him.

It was only now that you truly understood what he meant.

But you had never used drugs, and you weren’t about to start.

Vernon stood close enough to breathe you in; his arms folded; his warmth palpable. “Your eyes are all teary,” he murmured with concern.

“How do you not get it?” You whispered while staring down at the cracked slabs of cement. “We’re never, ever going to work. Not as friends, or as anything else—” your voice split, and you needed a moment to pause, reabsorb the pain. “It just won’t ever happen.”

He exhaled deeply, fingernails puncturing into his arms.

You quickly wiped off your own tears.

That was the moment Vernon finally caught your eyes. Everything about his stance shifted. It was like someone administered him a dose of clarity. “PJ’s…” he murmured, grabbing onto your arms, sliding his rough palms down your skin until your hands were gathered in his. “You’re fuckin’ jumpin’ to conclusions, you know that, right?” There was a squeeze against your fingers. “You’re seein’ the worst of everything, diggin’ a hole.”

“How else am I supposed to see it?!” You snapped, tearing your hands out from his solacing, sweet grip, beginning to pace around the cold patches of textured cement. “This is such a big part of your life! You love the freedom, the adventure, the high. You don’t want the lesser, boring, mundane stuff that everyone else has going on. And that’s exactly what I am, what I always will be!” After rubbing away the thin trails of tears scurrying down your cheeks, you bit back a futile, immature whine. “I can’t fit into your life and you can’t fit into mine! It’s that simple! There’s no meeting in the middle, no compromising. Nothing that could ever make us gel!”

Vernon stopped your pacing by shoving you at the shoulder. “Are you fuckin’ crazy, PJ’s?” He deadpanned. “We make us gel! We like each other! You just fuckin’ tiptoe around it, avoidin’ us at every turn. Doesn’t that just enforce our differences even more?”

“Likeness isn’t enough!” You told him, pushing off his hand. “How am I ever supposed to be okay with you snorting coke beside a girl you have sexual history with! How am I ever supposed to be okay that you’re affiliated with all these shady, dangerous weirdos! How will I ever get over the inevitable fact you’ll just get bored of me! We make absolutely no sense!”

Vernon chuckled irritably, tonguing against his cheek. “To you.”

“I-I can’t make it any clearer,” you admitted, exasperated.

“So, what now?” He snorted.

“Now,” you sniffled, wiping underneath your eye, “I’m leaving.”

Vernon removed the blunt from his ear. It was hardly smoking at that point, though he still attempted a puff, shaking his head. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you,” he laughed, exhaling swiftly. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.”

“Goodnight,” you pronounced to the boy sharply.

Throwing the glass door back open, you stalked into the kitchen, finding your roommate in the exact place you had left her, with Moo exactly where you had left him. Their conversation seemed animated and jovial, and you would have felt awful about interrupting them if you weren’t so high-strung from arguing with Vernon.

Every inch of you was vibrating.

You sighed aloud cumbersomely. “I’m sorry if you guys are having fun, but I need to go home.”

They both paused, taking in your appearance.

Ruby raised her eyebrow. “Uh… sure.”

Moo wrinkled his nose. “Damn, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, fanning your sweltering face.

He checked the time on his phone, his expression bulging. “You guys have hardly made a dent here! C’mon! You can’t leave this early—”

“I want to go home!” You shouted, glaring him into a stupefied silence.

Ruby swallowed, unable to hide her shock that such a booming, aggressive statement could come from such a docile person. But it was the flash of desperation she needed to see, immediately understanding that something had gone wrong and you were in the process of crumbling.

“No, we gotta leave,” Ruby said tersely. “Thanks for the drink.”

Moo followed after you into the corridor, his head tilted against the frame. Ruby helped you into her cushiony coat before reaching for her own. “Can I at least order your Uber?” He offered, hopeful.

Ruby brushed some hair off her lip. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got a friend who’s just coming off work. She’ll be way faster. And no payment needed.”

“Ah, okay,” Moo nodded, his tone dragging with disappointment, although you assumed it was due to losing Ruby and not yourself.

Outside, the cold suddenly felt way colder than it had when you were filled to the brim with heat, arguing. Now, you sensed every nip and bite from the wind. Ruby hurried after you to the base of the driveway, scurrying along the rough gravel as she texted her friend. Once you reached the dented mailbox sticking out from the ground at an odd angle, Ruby had finally caught up to you, the concern in her expression evident.

“What happened?” She asked, frowning.

You didn’t know how to respond, standing silently while the wind whipped the bottoms of your lengthy coat. The only thing you could squeeze out was a self-deprecating croak of regret. “I’m so stupid, Ruby,” you cried, the water flooding your eyes instantly, turning the night a blur. “I always make the dumbest choices!” 

“No you don’t!” Ruby was quick to correct you.

“Is this not proof enough?” You rebutted, throwing your arm in the direction of the house. “I mean, what the hell am I doing here? It’s because a made a stupid choice, about a stupid guy, and I followed it, stupidly!”

Your roommate sighed, pulling some fluttering crimson tresses away from her tinged, blushed cheeks. She then stood next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing you against her warm side. Honestly, you weren’t looking for a lecture, another back and forth, a pep-talk about how you were treating yourself too unfairly. She seemed to understand that, opting to comfort you with her closeness instead, and you leaned into her jasmine scent gratefully.

Although, the relief was only temporary.

You could only surmise how much it was going to hurt later.

—END OF PART FOUR.

[haveyouusedthispokemon]

Alright, all the polls from round 3 are officially complete! I'm still fine-tuning the 'what next' poll and the gamecorner giveaway, both of which will be posted soon. But for now, I can post this!

tl;dr: Thank you for participating, and I'm excited to see where we land next ^^

These past 6 months really flew by, huh! I think we really hit a good stride with the six polls a day format. There were times I didn't think I'd be able to get the polls ready in time, since I decided to get a little ambitious with the gifs! But I think it was worth it, the amount of people who shared their stories, or discovered some new shinies and found some love for a pokemon they might've previously overlooked was fantastic.

Speaking of sharing stories, thank you everyone who contributed to the polls by submitting your own shinies!! It helped make the polls feel more personal in a way that I couldn't do myself, and it was a lot of fun to get to know some of your favorite shinies through your efforts, or wild luck through repeat shinies. And there were a lot of fantastic names as well that helped inspire some people who saw them ^^

And the gamecorner giveaway- this was something I was sure wouldn't be that popular, since it mostly requires a switch + nso + at least one of the newer games, or having pokemon home + pokemon you'd be willing to trade in it... But it was the best thing I could come up with as a way to give something to y'all, besides words of thanks. It's been a blast shiny hunting these pokemon for y'all, and I know that they've been going to people who'll really appreciate them ^^

And from there, a huge thank you to those who offered to donate shinies for the giveaways! Your kindness had an immense impact on my determination. While I wound up not taking any of these offers, they did show me how fortunate I am, and took a lot of pressure off of me when it came to shiny hunting, since there was a back up. Thank you guys so, so much!

I also want to thank the people who sent these asks; I haven't answered them because I'd like to keep them in my inbox! They've been really lovely to see whenever I open them, but I would be remiss to not answer them.

I'm of the opinion anyone can be an artist if they give it what they want, but I know I'm not particularly skilled, so I thought it would be funny to give it my best shot with a limited toolset to help liven things up. I was expecting some laughs and some lighthearted teasing, since they're not the best... but I was still happy with how they came out, since I do think they came out the best I could make them. So, that is to say, I wasn't expecting these types of comments! It means a more to me than I think I could accurately put into words.

I don't know where we'll land up next in the polls, but no matter where we go, I'm elated to be able to share in it with y'all ^^

[vaggieslefteye]

ALASTOR & LUCIFER | ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʟᴇʟꜱ + ꜱɪᴍɪʟᴀʀɪᴛɪᴇꜱ

[jsooly]

Can I make an ask for the sully seriessss? I wanna see what would happen if y/n got into a fight with one of the sullys (idm which one) so at the ended of the day she started going back to the lab with spider instead of being around them and like they kept going back to the lab like for atleast a week and a half, and she basically sleeps there, eats there, doesn’t actually leave it and the sullys haven’t seen her in dayssss and this sort of thing has never happened before

If you don’t wanna do this it’s okay but tysm!! :)

taken in by the sullys (10) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, flashback to when you get into a fight with neytiri and stay at the lab for a day or two… or twelve…

try not to put lore in the filler chapters challenge: failed. lol

thank you for your request <3 sorry if it isn't what you intended, but i hope i did it justice! i'm slowly working through my inbox so if you sent a request in, dw, i haven't forgotten them :D

(1) / . . . / (8*) / (9*) / (10 - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

years before the RDA returned. . .

as we’ve talked about in the earlier chapters, you can owe your strength and skill to neytiri, who was very diligent in training you.

you started earlier than any of your siblings. you learned to string bows, build arrows, proper technique for handling knives, etc...

it was clear to anyone that neytiri was the hardest on you. she put a lot of pressure on you to be the best.

in the early years, she was hyperaware of the clan's opinions of her. of jake, of the half-blood children she would eventually have one day. even though they were triumphant against humanity, she still held a bitterness for them.

so she was shocked when she felt so strongly about keeping you as her own. jake was more than ready to respect her wishes if push came to shove, but despite her grudge against the sky people, she was 100% on board with your adoption.

neytiri loved you very much, but sometimes other people's opinions were more important than your happiness.

"again." neytiri snapped, circling you like a hawk. her golden eyes were focused on you, constantly assessing your form for any missteps.

your eyes darted to her before you swallowed your nerves and pulled the bowstring taut.

"not quite. again."

you let the bow drop, clenching your eyes shut. what am i getting wrong? you inhaled sharply, drawing the bow once more, the thin string digging into the joints of your middle and index finger. your gaze flickered to neytiri in preparation for her critique.

she pursed her lips before she sighed, shaking her head lightly. "you must be faster, ma'ite."

you frowned, gently releasing the bowstring. the disappointment in her voice made your skin hot with embarrassment. "i'm pulling it as fast as i can."

"not good enough." her eyebrows furrowed. "we will do more strength training. forget the bow. for now we will build your muscles."

she stalked off, swiping the bow from you. you watched her leave before dropping onto the ground in exhaustion. you stared at the leather stitching in the ceiling, your heart thumping in your chest as you entered a resting state.

it was hard to impress neytiri, much less meet her expectations. you were working yourself to the bone, and still you weren't scratching the surface of her approval.

it only got worse as you got older. you were capable of more, so neytiri pushed you harder.

unfortunately, you were also in an age where you were increasingly self-conscious. this anxiety was only fueled by the strife within the clan. strife centered around you.

they didn't like that you were participating in their training rituals, especially since you regularly outperformed the other children.

and this isn't to say you just happen to be able to achieve such feats despite being human—

neytiri had you working all the time.

the other kids wanted to win. you had to win.

unknowingly, and unintentionally, neytiri conditioned you into thinking being the best would make you worthy of your family.

"what is the use, neytiri?" a clan member asked her, the judgement clear on his tone. he consoled his own child who was just beaten in combat by you. "the child is human. no matter how much time you pour into teaching her, she will never be part of the clan."

"i am aware," neytiri shoots back dismissively.

"you have sons. neteyam is the next olo'eyktan, and you waste your time on a demon."

"demon or not, she is a part of my family. we train all our children, y/n is no different." neytiri hissed, whirling to face her challenger.

the man stepped back but didn't step down. "what is the goal of her training? she cannot complete iknimaya. she cannot bond, she cannot see, she cannot connect with the great mother—"

"there are many things y/n cannot do. to make up for it, she will be everything the sky people are not. she will be clever, quick, and deadly like any other na'vi child, otherwise there would have been no point in keeping her." neytiri snarled, her anger bubbling over the surface.

the man was putting her own fears into words. she was unforgiving to sky people, wishing they would remain with their kind rather than infiltrate her and her people's space. she was aware she was being hypocritical when it came to you, and it ate her up inside when she thought about it. but that's just a mother's love—paradoxical.

she was determined to mold you into perfection so that no one would think you didn't belong among them.

she stormed away from the man and his child, her thoughts so clouded that she didn't even notice you standing right there, hiding behind a branch as you eavesdropped.

you stared at her until she vanished from view, her words stewing in your mind.

some part of you knew that she felt that way. simply observing the differences between how she trained you versus neteyam or lo'ak were clear as day. she handled you with an urgency as if you were stacked against a ticking clock, as if you had to fight to be able to stand in front of her and receive her instruction.

she would only respond to excellence. and even then, her praise was weighed down by an unspoken burden.

you sat behind that branch for a very long time.

demon. the man called you that, and she didn't deny it.

—

the dinner table was filled with the pleasant chatter of your younger siblings, reveling in their various feats and findings in the earlier hours.

"what about your day, y/n?" jake asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing.

you sighed, nudging the food on your leaf. "just training."

"this reminds me, y/n," neytiri spoke up, wiping tuk's face before glancing over to you. "we can fit in another burst of strength conditioning before bed."

your expression hardened, your eyes falling to the ground. "i'm pretty tired..."

"that's why you're fueling up." she said, almost confused that you would shirk training.

"i won the races today." you said sharply, your eyes narrowing. "isn't that enough?"

"you must be faster, ma'ite." neytiri stressed, her brows furrowing in that oh-so-familiar disappointing look. jake sent her a silent message from across the table, warning neytiri to back down and maybe be encouraging for once.

"i—faster?" you shot back incredulously. you won. forget being faster, you were the fastest.

"our world is unforgiving. even a second can be the difference between life and death." neytiri said matter-of-factly. pity swam in her eyes as she gazed upon you.

you slammed your hands down, glaring outright at your mother. "stop acting like that's the reason you want me to train so hard."

a slow blink. neytiri froze, her ears flattening as she barely contained her reaction. "watch your tone, daughter."

you throw caution to the wind, springing to your feet with clenched fists hanging at your sides. "i do everything you ask. i train, i win, i fight, i hunt—"

"you are not fast enough!" neytiri doubled down, rising to her feet and towering over you.

"i am not enough, period." you correct her, and you didn't miss the flicker of guilt in her expression. got you. the child in you hoped she would deny it, to tell you that it wasn't like that. but the subtle wince told you all you needed to know.

a beat passed as neytiri breathed hard, collecting the scattered thoughts in her head and reigning in her emotion.

"you are alive," neytiri began slowly. "because i made you strong. because i did not coddle you like a helpless child. i did not give you the luxury of softness, because no one would else would. you think you suffer because of me? you won today because you are better than them. both na'vi and sky people alike. because i made you more than what they expected."

"you pushed a narrative on me! you don't see me for who i am."

she snarled, striding around the table. "the clan is the one that does not see you. i see fire in you, y/n. the drive to be more than what you were born as."

"none of this is for my sake! you want me to prove that i'm worth something to the clan. that i'm worth something to you. and i'm trying." your voice tapered off into a whine.

"you're human. you have needed to prove yourself from the minute you set foot on this tree."

you blinked back tears, your face flipping between emotional distress and anger, shoulders rising with every heavy breath.

"what—" your voice broke, and you breathed in deeply before continuing. "what if i didn't want to fight for my place? what if i just wanted to be your daughter?"

she opened her mouth to retort but the gravity of your words hit her like a truck.

frustrated with her lack of response, you spun on your heels and booked it out of the marui with a aggravated scream.

there was a lengthy silence that hung in the air after you stormed out. neytiri said nothing further, dropping back into her seat.

they didn't see you for days after that.

jake and neytiri initially panicked, fearing you were victim to pandora's nightly dangers

but norm put in a call and informed them that you were just hanging around them in an old bunk.

jake visited you in the beginning, coaxing you to return. but you refused.

when he put his foot down and ordered you to come home, you said you'd come on your own time, later that day.

you never showed up. when he went back looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. you were straight up avoiding them.

he knew that he wasn't the one you needed to see. but neytiri was just as stubborn.

"she will come back." neytiri said calmly, but she churned her spices with more aggression that jake's ever seen before.

"you're her mother," jake gently spoke up. "it's your job to chase after her."

she hissed at her husband. "she cannot understand that i am the way i am with her for her own benefit."

"she's a child. barely a teenager. she's doesn't care why you're doing it."

"she doesn't listen."

jake snickered, earning a hard smack to his chest from neytiri. "what?" she snapped.

jake's laughter trailed off as he gave her a knowing look. "now you know how i feel with your sons."

she rolled her eyes.

"she has a lot stacked against her." jake reasoned, scooting closer to her. "she doesn't need to fight her mom, too."

the kids were insufferable.

with you gone, there were lots they couldn't do—namely go out and play in the forest, which was their favorite.

in your absence, jake sometimes found the time to take them out, but he didn't let them have fun like you did.

you let them explore their surroundings, only cautioning them when they were doing something seriously stupid. jake's dad brain didn't allow for much wiggle room, and he wanted them in his sight at all times.

all that to say they were bored. they missed you.

"when is y/n coming back?" lo'ak's little voice whined, climbing on neytiri's back.

"soon." she muttered, her voice clipped. she could feel her resolve slipping.

parenting never came with a guidebook. she was young, freshly 20 when she had neteyam. she didn't know what she was doing, and she hoped the lengths she took to prepare her children for the real world would pay off. the reality was she was stuck.

she also missed you.

"i wanna go outside." kiri raised her arm, pointing to the expanses of the forest.

neytiri groaned. "kiri, we've told you. no outside if your father can't watch you."

she stomped her foot, complaining. "ugh, neteyam's only four years younger than tsmuke. can't he watch us?"

neytiri gave her daughter a warning look. "neteyam is a baby, just like you. he can't fight off viperwolves or save you from a hammerhead stampede, can he? do you want to be flattened?"

"no." kiri muttered, her glare dropping to the floor.

"you can go outside when your father returns from his duties." neytiri sighed.

neytiri was beginning to reach her limit.

she was anxious. when they went to bed at night, there was always something missing. she itched as if something was left undone.

she struggled to sleep. at the least, jake was also in a similar state. they often lay awake beside each other quietly, but the air between them was charged with a million unspoken thoughts.

the next morning, on the twelfth day you've spent away from them, neytiri finally had enough.

she got up at the crack of dawn. by her understanding, you actively avoided them. how you got wind of their arrival without even seeing them was beyond her. or perhaps it wasn't—she probably taught you that.

she slinked through the wet forest, the morning mist kissing her skin with dew drops. it smelled like rain, like dirt and musk. she just hoped she would be able to outwit you.

she found herself smiling, pride sneaking its way into her heart. how funny that you were using everything she taught you against her.

she didn't make her presence known. she was careful not to trip any of the perimeter alarms, peeking through the foggy windows for any indication of your location.

her ears stood at attention at the sound of rustling behind her. it was faint, barely recognizable, and worth pursuing.

she raced after the sound before it got away from her. she caught sight of your skin against the dull earthy tones of the forest, her eyes brightening.

abandoning your stealthy approach, you broke into a sprint.

"y/n!" she yelled after you. your burst of speed caught her off guard and she scrambled to her feet to chase after you. "wait!"

"i don't want to talk to you!" you yelled over the wind.

unfortunately your legs stood no chance against neytiri's massive strides. you were within her reach in seconds. her hand shot out to grab you. you dodged her, shifting your direction and running between her legs. you yanked on her queue, surprising yourself when you packed enough strength to throw her off balance.

when neytiri got a hold of her bearings, you vanished. she did a 360, scanning the area before turning her gaze up. picking a random tree, she began to climb.

"y/n." she said softly when she climbed high enough. you were already leaping across branches. she followed you, pushing hard to catch up.

"stop—" neytiri grunted as her foot barely found purchase on the tree she was leaping to. "stop running!"

by eywa, you were crazy fast. at least that was something your smaller stature allowed—exponential agility. she grumbled to herself, changing course.

when you jumped and landed with an oomph, you swung your head back to see if she was there. you were annoyed she was chasing you, but now you were even more irritated that she stopped so easily.

with a frown, you straddled the branch.

"aha!" neytiri dropped down from above you.

"what—" you barely looked up before she fell on top of you, screaming as you both slid off the high treetops.

she held you against her, her arm firmly fastened around your stomach, your back pressed to her. her free hand gripped onto a vine, the water shielding her skin from the burn.

you came to a complete stop, swaying just a foot above ground. she dropped down, refusing to let you go even when you got over your shock.

"please, ma'ite, mawey."

"let me go." you grunted, pushing her arm away with little success.

"no."

you probably looked so silly, squirming in neytiri's arms while she battled against your flailing limbs to fully and properly embrace you.

"let's hug."

"what? no."

"give me a hug. we need this."

"ugh." you groaned, going rigid in her arms.

pride ran in the family and neytiri was no different. she struggled to find the right words.

"i am sorry for how relentless i was. i know i'm supposed to have all the answers, but i don't. i'm learning that my way isn't always right, and making you feel out of place was the last thing i wanted to do."

you pursed your lips, hanging limp in her arms.

"you... confuse me, y/n. i have a hatred for sky people and everything they took from me, but i love you. dearly. and this is a feeling i cannot explain to my people. i hoped my methods would help you fit in with them, but i pushed you too hard, too fast."

"i don't mind the training. i know i need it especially." you mumbled. "but doing it constantly—"

"i know, i know." she hushed you, cradling your head. "i don't want you to question anything anymore. you are my daughter, however inexplicable it is."

you smiled warmly at her, finally returning her embrace.

she sat down, setting you in her lap as she undid the hairstyle in your hair, reweaving it with her skillful fingers. "i get scared. you've grown, but i still see you as that toddling baby. pandora is dangerous enough for na'vi as is. i can't help but multiply those dangers by one thousand when you go out there."

she sighed. "i must admit something to you. i have visions of you—one recurring one in particular. it comes and goes. you, bruised and bloodied, a massive slotsyal threatening to swallow you whole." she rested her hands on your shoulders. "i don't want to send you out there and see you hurt, or worse. not when i know i can prepare you."

"you've trained me well," you reassure her. "and you will continue to do so. i won't get into trouble thanks to your lessons. there's no way a stormglider would eat me, either."

she chuckled, standing and holding out her hand in invitation. "perhaps you're right. you are pretty fast."

you beamed up at her.

your bond with neytiri only grew stronger from that point. you were locked in together, and she couldn't be more proud of the fighter you've grown into.

and if anyone had anyone to say about it, they better be ready for a knife fight.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000

© jsooly ‘25

[vettelsvee]

Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞

DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2043

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N

VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.  

Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.  

You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.  

Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.  

Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.  

The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.

However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.

“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”

“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”

“She’s too young for him.”

“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”

You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.

The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.

“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”

“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?

You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.

As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.

You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.

But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.

Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.

“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”

He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.

You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.

“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”

Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.

Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.

“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”

Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.

“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”

“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.

Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.

“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”

“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”

“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.

“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.

Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”

Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.

You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.

“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”

Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.

“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”

“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.

“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”

You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.

[pupyuj]

imagine dom!g!p!liz x sub!reader overstim , liz using reader for her pleasure :(( poor reader starts crying but liz still doesn't stop :(( pls do this I will cry

THANK GOD i dug deep into my inbox bcs if i didn’t see this i would have thought that you guys don’t want to see nothing but yujin and wonyoung from me 😭😭😭 that being said I NEED MORE JIWON, GAEUL, AND REI ASKS THROWN MY WAY 😞😞💔

[cw: dubcon, g!p liz, blowjob, unhealthy power dynamic.]

sexually frustrated nervous wreck of a senior jiwonie x blissfully unaware moony-eyed trainee reader, my beloveds 🫠🫠

having jiwon as your #1 idol of all time bcs you thought she was just like you!! so shy and adorably clumsy, but was born with a boatload of talent for performing and singing!! hell, wony and yuj might be the reason you chose starship out of all the companies that attempted to recruit you but jiwon is really the girl that made you stay and commit your hardwork and efforts to the company! 🥺 and ofc jiwon was quick to acknowledge and express her gratitude for your support, verbally too!

jiwon didn’t know it then but your starstruck eyes that you couldn’t keep off of her really unlocked something inside her… 😵‍💫

but getting closer and closer until the two of you were the best of friends… hanging out outside of the company building, having places and things you can call as your guys’ places and things, taking silly pictures of each other in your respective phones and cameras, helping each other through the hardest hurdles of your lives 🥰🥰 seems all fine and dandy, right?? but you didn’t know that one day you would be helping jiwon with so much more than you can handle! 🫣

why, one day you were feeding each other ice cream while watching a classic chick flick when you noticed that jiwon seemed to be so down, something about stupid hurtful comments online affecting her self-esteem :(( she apologized for being such a mood killer but she really didn't need to! and she doesn't have to be anymore bcs you told her you'd do anything to cheer her up and make her smile again, such a pure girl you are! 🥺

unfortunately for you, you really didn't expect that sucking her dick with your little inexperienced mouth would be the one thing that would comfort her! :(( the cuddling was fine, even the kisses were okay... but grabbing your hair and putting your face against her crotch and forcing her dick down your throat?? that was a bit much... but if it meant making your jiwon-unnie happy? ofc you'd do it as best as you could! 🤭🤭

you didn't even have to worry about not knowing how to do any of this! jiwonie will guide you herself! 😍 nails attached to your scalp, controlling your pace, holding you down when it feels too good, telling you all about how good you were making her feel and all the different things you could do to make it all better for her 😍😍 she wouldn't even care that you're choking on her cum :(( she'll barely even give you a break before invading your mouth again, completely forgetting that not only were you her precious junior but also her friend <//3 you're just a pretty toy for her to use and play with now :((

definitely abuses your cunt when she gets the chance too, are you kidding 😭😭 jiwonie never wanted to admit but she has always looked at you inappropriately but just never wanted to give in to her desires until now and it was partly your fault bcs you were so nice and kind… how could jiwon not take advantage of that? ☹️ and you’re laying face down on her bed with your ass up feeling so torn bcs it really, really hurt when jiwonie’s just mindlessly ramming her cock inside you but your knuckles are turning white gripping the sheets out of pure pleasure, and you’re screaming her name so beautifully so you obviously want more, right??

and it’s weird bcs yeah the things she’s doing to you are wrong but she’s still so sweet to you?? she apologizes multiple times while using you to get off and cares for you so well afterwards that you don’t want to resist or say anything when she starts touching you again 🫠

[mtcloudsworld]

Hi, I asked you a few days ago if you take requests I was too scared to bother you by sending an actual request. But would you do a Valentine’s Day smut/fluff for Jason x fem reader. Jason actually being super Sweet and romantic and spoiling her on Valentine’s Day, I know it’s late you don’t have to if you don’t want and thank you for responding to my question a few days ago 🤎🤎🤎

Awe please bother me!! 🥺

I really don't mind if you guys inbox me. If you have a request, wanna say hi or have a question, please don't be afraid to message me! I'm all ears 😁👍🏾

Sorry it took me so long to respond. It took me some time to muster up your request. I hope you didn't think I was ignoring you or anything. I did have something in my drafts and was having a hard time articulating the way I wanted it to go. Luckily your request came in clutch, I appreciate that very much.

I feel like my brain was going into a hundred different directions with this one 😂 please forgive me if it's not exactly what you wanted but believe me when I say I really tried.

I feel with Jason Valentine's Day is an every single day thing with him, I got nothing but love for that man.

Don't be afraid to comment your thoughts, also like and reblog if you want. Ty!! Enjoy lovebugs :) 🩷🦠

(p.s.) do y'all like regular fonts or tiny fonts? Please lmk your preference when it comes to reading. Hopefully everyone is on the same page, I know that'll kind of be hard because everyone reads differently but I'm curious either way.

- ☁️

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘; 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡⏜

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, fem!reader, vigilante/bf! JasonTodd, good ol' missionary, love making, oral (f receiving), lovey dovey, a little bit of masturbation, submissive, pet names: babe, baby, mamas, doll, love, sweetheart. This is a pretty long one, longer than I expected so please forgive me for that. Edited, but in case of any errors, ignore :) ty <3<3<3

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, hits his nose upon entering your apartment. The sight of your spacious living room made him freeze as it was pristine and polished...not at all clustered with clutter or seen as untidy like it usually does.

Junk mail shredded and thrown to the trash. The floor in every room vacuumed and mopped.

Rose petals along the floor.

Books and vinyls were placed on the bookshelf in alphabetical order. The numerous polyester blankets you loved collecting were placed in the wicker basket near the brown entertainment center.

The lamp beside the couch was dimmed low. A few candles lit around the space. Gentle, slow music played lightly through the record player.

On the coffee table was a box of assortments, chocolate covered fruit with a drizzle of white chocolate on top, two glasses of wine and a red heart shaped gift bag on the side.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy. Intimate and sacred meant for two. Undoubtedly, there was something so perfect and elegant about this space that it had his heart fluttering.

It was subtle and simple, it made him grow impatient wanting nothing more than to see you and hold you. After a day of patrolling, dealing with Bruce and so on, he couldn't wait to get home.

This morning, he gave you breakfast in bed, surprised you with six different banquets of flowers, a diamond necklace with matching studs and ring that had the words "my one and only," engraved around it. He went as far as to give you his debt card.

Now, you never liked to spend his money on anything. You didn't even like the fact that he was spoiling it on you, but because he was as stubborn as a mule, he had cleared out your schedule anyways. He scheduled an appointment at the spa to get your nails done and an appointment at the hair salon. Although you pouted out of appreciation and told him he didn't have to do that, he rebuttal with a kiss on your lips and said, "I would do anything just for you."

After a day of getting pampered, you figured since your schedule was cleared, it was the perfect opportunity to tidy up the place, make it all presentable with rose petals on the floor, some vanilla scented candles, dim lighting-- make it look intimate and homey. Setting a few gifts in line, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and red wine on the table. You wanted it to look perfect before Jason came home.

It had only taken two and a half hours to shower, drench yourself in vanilla scented soap, moisturize your soft skin with Shea butter and spray on some perfume. You applied on some mascara and blood red lip gloss before slipping on a little something something.

And while you got yourself ready and the night began to set, you hear the apartment door shut.

"Baby, I'm home!" Jason feels his body relax when he hears the sound of your soft hums coming from down the hall, "Be right there!" Presumably believing you were in the bathroom since your bedroom light was off.

While he occupied himself with placing his weapons in a nearby safe box and leaned down to untie his boot laces, he hears you emerge from out of the bathroom, down the short hall towards the living room. You find him hunched over by the door placing his shoes to the side.

"How was it tonight?" You ask.

He hears your steps grow slow, pacing around.

"Slow as fuck. Don't know why Bruce called me in when he could've been back home with Selina. There was barely anyone out tonight." He states with slight irritation in his voice.

You nearly giggle as he continues to grumble underneath his breathe. When he stands up straighter, he's taken back by the sight of your appearance.

Suddenly breathless and speechless, his eyes scaled over your gorgeous anatomy moving around the coffee table to grab yourself a chocolate covered strawberry.

Jaw clenched and body slightly tense, a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He watches you approach the end of the sofa and perch yourself up on the armrest of the couch. Your soft, glowing legs crossed one over the other as you take small bites at the sweet fruit.

Flushed and piqued, his eyes grew wide from beneath the helmet. In all your glory, you looked so plushy and soft as your body was snugged in a sexy cherry red two piece lingerie.

It's material hugged around the bust of your tits, giving them an extra lift from the band underneath. Your nipples were hard from the lukewarm air seeping through the vents, causing them to surface through the thin fabric. The delicious sight of the thong hugging around the curves of your hips and richness of your thighs made you look all so yummy.

More yummy than that damn chocolate covered strawberry in your mouth right about now. He thought.

You nodded towards his direction, smiling a little when you noticed he hadn't moved an inch since you made eye contact, but, was just standing there, staring at you. "Need some help taking that off, handsome?" You say teasingly, impressed and aroused by the newly improved suit branded in all black hugged and defined every muscle and thick part of his anatomy. The symbolic red bat emblem placed in the middle of his chest, some pieces of his suit were still kevlar and others were leather.

He chuckles, finding himself stunned by you entirely. He thinks he might go insane just by the way you were looking at him. Ruin you and devour you. He had to take a moment to register your words, finding it hard to focus on anything but you.

"Uh, well....that's if you're up for the challenge, babygirl." He reckons, the modulator within the helmet making his voice ten times deeper than usual. "Otherwise, I'll gladly strip this off for you."

"Mmm, a strip tease? I believe you got me there, baby." You purred, tilting your head to the side curiously. The sound of clicking is heard, hissing from underneath causing pressure to be released. His hands reach up for the red helmet, slipping it off carefully to reveal his head.

"Personally I think that option would be more... sexier." You thought out loud allowing your shiny red lips to wrap seductively around the berry and deliberately suck on the chocolate.

He releases a deep chuckle as he sets the helmet to the side. His short black and white streak hair sexily tousled and curly from the humidity of the helmet.

The sight of his handsome face and those piercing sapphire eyes made you feel a storm brew from within, butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach, your nerves tingling. You felt a wave of excitement circulate through your system as he glances between you and the living room.

"I love what you did with the place."

He stood tall, glaring over your gorgeous profound frame. He doesnt take his eyes off you as he begins to slip the gloves off, setting them on a nearby shelf. Carefully unzipping the leather jacket, he slips it off and lays it to the side.

"I wanted it to look extra special for tonight."

Your words were sweet, too sweet, to the point, his own teeth were about to rot. Effortlessly, you had him in a chokehold, you lived rent free in his mind. With all your cuteness, your down right innocence and flaws, you had a way of tugging at his heart strings.

Like any other time, you always found yourself swooned at the sight of him. Whether he's in armour, shirtless with grey sweatpants, roaming around here in only boxers or just outright naked, his fine ass could never fail to amaze you.

You fell hard for Gotham's most favorite vigilante.

The way he treats you, cares for you, makes you feel like a queen, practically worshiping the ground you walk on and then some, he would do just about anything to see you smile again and again and again-- he had your heart, and you had his.

"Hm, and this?" He points to the lingerie you were currently settled in, walking up to you with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Oh this? I bought it after I got my hair and nails done. Which thank you by the way, it was very much needed." You stated twinkling your fingers his face. "I figured I'd give it a shot," you shrugged intentionally running your hands over your body, "I wanted to see how it looked on me and honestly I think I made the best decision in my life, don't you agree?"

Purposely wanting his eyes to stay on you at all times, you stood up from your seat to give a little spin. It was slow and cruel as your hands roamed down along your sides to the band of your thong, fingers curling underneath the band to then hear them smack against your skin from the tight restriction. His eyes examined closely with a low hum in satisfaction at the sweet roundness of your ass cheeks.

"So, what do you think?~ You like it?" You chimed in a sing-song tone.

"Hm, I do," He draws you closer, your hands resting at the tops of his shoulders to feel his own squeeze at your sides and slowly draw lower, pressing you possessively against his hard torso. The tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, delicately planting kisses to your skin feeling how your flesh begins to heat up. He whispers into your ear "In fact, I love it on you so much, I just might fuck you in it."

You'd be lying if you said that wasn't your plan from the beginning. However, somewhere in your goofy mind, you didn't think it was gonna be this soon.

He kissing along your cheek and adventuring to ghost over your lips. He feels you lean into his embrace, reaching up on the tops of your tippy toes to place your delicate hands along his face, he engulfed every ounce of you.

With half lidded eyes, Jason watches how your lashes kiss at your cheeks, brows scrunched at the savoring taste of mint and chocolate on each other's tongues made you moan softly. With each peck, the kiss grew deeper and deeper. With needy intent, his fingers began to dig into your flesh, groping at the fat of your sides.

"God, you smell so good." He murmurs between kisses. Burning with desire, your heavenly intoxicated touch made it so hard for him to detach from you. It left him breathless, forgetful and completely immersed in the presence of you.

It was the kind of intoxicated that made things feverish and desperate, lips feeling more like petals as they move in sync with his. Intoxicating to the point you had him grunting lowly, growling a little as he starts to become greedy.

Everything moved so swiftly as he laid you on the couch. His massive body proceeding to loom over you. You giggle as he tries to follow in pursuit, smiling a little while he leaves a trail of kisses up the navel of your torso.

Laid beneath him in a vulnerable state, your hands were above your head feeling breathless and overwhelmed. You couldn't process everything at once as you felt like the predator had caught its prey in one go.

You observe how his large palms effortlessly veiled around the bust of your breasts. Squeezing them with a gentle yet firm grasp, his thumbs graced ever so gently over your nipples in circular motion. Attentive to the shaky exhale, he notices how your buds become swollen and hard. Taking one in his mouth, he sucks on it gracefully while he teases and pinches the other.

Although you were growing anxious, impatient and needy, you found yourself staring at the boxes of fruit.

"Mmph, jason?"

"Mm'yes baby?"

Your nipple pops from out of his mouth, going in to give the other a lick, he proceeds to leave more kisses down your navel. Mentally thanking God for every imperfect perfect flaw he had placed along your body.

"Shouldn't we...ah, shit...put the fruit away before they melt?"

Jason was too enthralled, in his own little world, to worry about that damn fruit. The way you were worrying your pretty little head over the littlest things had him chuckling wholeheartedly.

He was too bothered to say a word as he was preoccupying himself with your cunt. It looked like a beautiful sloppy mess after he pulled the thong to the side. To see your pretty little pussy glisten under the dim lighting, had his dick twitching in his pants.

"I don't want them to melt...if we...don't put them... Oh my god..." You gasp out of surprise when you feel something soaking wet and warm lapping at your cunt. Gripping onto the cushions, your body tenses as you grew a frown on your face. "Ooh Jason" He spots the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing altered and had grown rapidly.

He moans at the taste of you, closing his eyes to concentrate on the way you lingered on his buds. As large as his hands were, you felt comfortable in the warm callous of his palms. Holding your thighs wide open in place, Jason caresses your skin lovingly while he coaxes you in a deep trance, completely wiping your mind clean as you focused on the way his mouth maneuvered.

It left you speechless, surprised, mind blown, mouth gaped open at the wet muscle gliding between your folds and over your clit. You felt frozen in place, gripping at the cushions as you moaned his name in bliss.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby."

Relentless and quenching for thirst, the more he inhaled your scent and continued to wallow in it, he found himself growing careless while he devours you.

Your arousal messily drips from around your thighs onto the sofa. You nearly clench your legs closed to the weird sensation of smacking, slurping, squelching and gushing from your pretty little hole.

As he latches his mouth around your lower lips, he dips two fingers into your heat. The vibrations of his grunts sends a tickling sensation to your clit. His other hand gripped your thigh steadily in place, feeling a surge of shivers go down your spine when you feel him pull away.

"Mhm, there you go, baby, that's it, just relax for me." He instructs, watching as your head lulls back in the armrest, shoulders slumped as you tug at the cushions.

"Focus on me. Focus on the way I make you feel, feels good now doesn't it?" You nod, humming in response. "Good...you always got your mind wondering about the littlest things, sweetheart." he chuckles observing how your body responds to him, hips bucking for more. "As much as I love you catering to me, tonight I just want it to be all about you. You deserve to relax, to feel good, you deserve to shut your brain off and let me take care of you. Let me treat you to something more soft and sweet. I wanna make sure you're at peace. You deserve to enjoy yourself, mama. You think you can you do that for me?"

You nod but he grunts in disapproval, "use your words, y/n, I wanna hear you say it."

"G-God yes, I can do that." You moaned.

Jason's fingers enter inside your leaking cunt, long and intruding, he thrusts them into your gummy walls. Feeling your sticky walls contract around his digits, he hums pleasing to her sucking him further in, each time getting deeper and deeper. Receiving a glossy shine from your arousal, he smirks moving forward between your thighs.

He takes charge effortlessly controlling and molding your body the way he wants. Massaging at your calves, up around your knees to your thighs where he skims his fingers down and over the inner parts of your thighs and around your hips.

The tips of his fingers reaches towards the curve of your breast, fondling and playing with your hardened nipples, he feels you start to move against him. His tongue thrusting in and out of you, you begin to moan loudly as you swivel your hips to match his pace.

"How does that feel baby? Feels good? Am I doing okay?" His voice grew an octave lower, deeper and raspier than before.

He was near the brink of wanting to ravenously eat you out the more he inhaled your essences. He felt your hands begin to tug at his hair and whine and whimper to the nibbling of teeth at your neck, tasting your perfume along his buds.

"S-So good, you're treating me so well." You stutter.

Groans and moans grew intense, finally giving in and throwing in the towel. Your body submits to the need of yearning, allowing him to stubbornly tend to your aching need.

He took his time appreciating, glorifying, worshiping your body and you as whole. He knew the right words to say, ones that made you feel bubbly inside. He knew how to make a girl feel special.

You always found yourself worrying about something or someone. You could never catch a break. You could never just take a breather for once. But that's what he wanted from you, for you to catch a break. To let someone else take the reins for once and just let you lay back and relax.

At some point you felt so weak and helpless emitting these pathetic whimpers as he slowly took his time to cherish you. But you couldn't help it, that's just how you felt, you were vulnerable underneath his care.

"M'gonna cum, Jay..." You stifled, arching into him.

"Mm, go on baby, cum for me." He instructs benevolently.

Once you release your final shakey exhale, your eyes fluttered close. Your lower abdomen churns and twists as if a knot had become undone, the rushing feeling of liquid exiting from out of your entrance spurts all over his fingers, a creamy substance coating them prettily.

"Mhm, there you go, baby. Such a good girl." He praises, licking your cum from off his fingers and down from your center. "Damn, you taste sweeter and sweeter every time." He murmurs, cleaning the rest of the mess you made before planting a kiss.

"Mm, off...please," you demand eagerly.

"Heh, needy baby?" He puzzles, pecking your lips repeatedly with an amused yet teasing tone to his voice.

"Very." You say trying to search for an opening any where in his suit.

"Okayokayokay! Hold on, love. Patience." He laughs prying your hands away from his body.

You watched as he strips of his suit, when he feels your gaze on him, he turns to you with a mischievous smirk, eyes filled with lust. "How you want it, baby?" He asks voice sultry as he kisses between your jaw and neck.

"Like this," you respond, pouting. "I wanna see your face."

"As if you don't see this face enough, every single day." Brushing his hair from out of his face, he groans to the feeling of his hand wrapped around his dick. Thick and long, precum protruding from his pink mushroom tip, you glimpse at the way his thumb begins to smear it around the tip and along his shaft, collecting salvia halfway, he slowly strokes himself off.

"When we have sex it's different. It's more intimate and sweet, gratifying even." You say seductively, biting on your lip.

Pussy beginning to ache and throb at the sight of him. Your delicate fingers draw south of your body like a magnet, gliding them between your folds, up and down and around your clit, you start to apply more pressure.

He notices you start to work yourself through, twitching in the palm of his hand, he glares over the way you handle yourself with such elegance.

Silky and sultry, he's vigilant to the way you moan his name, persuading him to come closer with just one single look.

Gradually with close and careful precision, the tip of his dick asserts itself inside you. Inch by inch, the girth of him painfully yet pleasing stretches you out.

Immediately groaning at the tightness, you praise him for the way he completes you, fulfilling every inch till he was half way in.

He fitted right on in like a missing puzzle piece clearing the void perfectly with the roll of his hips.

With a blissful sigh, your head goes back.

Welcoming the agonizing warmth through your body, your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. As you focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you steadily, slowly you try to adjust to his size, cursing underneath your breath, "F-fuck it's been too long. You're so big, baby." You whimper.

"I know, baby, I i know, just relax for me, m'kay?" he coos burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Danity hands running past his shoulders, the rippling effect of his muscles beneath your fingertips to then wrap your arms around him completely, drawing him closer.

Eyes fluttering shut the scent of his heavy cologne and gunpowder overwhelms you, traces of your kisses left on his shoulder and neck, your right hand moves towards the roots of his hair, curling around his silky strands.

Veiny hands brushing between the ends of your thighs to the roundness of your ass, your knees bend and legs open a little bit more for him to bottom out. His cock domineering into the dark enclosed space, he feels you pucker around the base of his dick, sucking him in deeper and deeper till he reached your pillowy cervix.

Your beautiful raunchy melodies grew louder and louder with every passing minute.

"Shit, Jay yes, right there."

Moaning his name repeatedly, his pace accelerates, hips starting to rut in rhythmic motion. Breaths bated, heavy grunts and cursing underneath his breath, he listens to you begin to wail as your nails dig into his skin. Skin slapping skin from the result of his hips pounding into yours, the continuous squelching of your arousal coaxes around your thighs with a fervor.

Nose ghosting over your pulse, he hums at the increase of your heart beat, lips placing a delicate kiss to the inimate space, he hears you start to speak gibberish.

"Fuck... I love you, I love you so much."

Without second thought, your words overflow like a fountain.

Joyously overcame with the idea of being adorned and desired from someone worth loving. You chose him out of all people, you chose him to be the love of your life.

And hearing those three little words slip from out of your mouth, made his movements go slow.

Eyes shot open and wide, he swears his heart just skipped a beat.

Flushed out of shock, his head stayed at the base of your neck. You, however, continued to hold him. Knowing that your words were gonna come off as unexpected and sudden, you didn't want to let him go, you weren't going to allow him to run away from the fact that the moments you've shared together wasn't all for nothing. That feeling that scared the living shit out of both of you was there.

Jason was terrified to say it. Maybe because he didn't ever want to run into the possibility of his lover being taken away from him? How his lifestyle is, he never had the problem of losing anything but when he met you, it was different. There was a chance, a possibility, that you could be gone in a blink of an eye. It was hard to fathom how someone, like you, could be so precious and yet so sweet, live in a world that was all dark and gloomy, his world, specifically. It didn't add up and didn't make any sense why you stayed with him after knowing what he does, after knowing about his messed up past and who his family truly was and what he was all about. How could you have stayed all this time?

There was silence.

You feel his head lift to give you a studied gaze, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Your thumbs stroke at his scarred face.

He leans into your embrace, his forehead meeting yours, nose brushing against yours, his breath bated just as much as yours. This unfamiliar emotion growing deep within his chest made him suddenly shy, eyes flickering between yours with swollen gaped lips.

"It's okay, Jay, you can say it." You coerce in a hush tone, glancing between his orbs.

He completely melts into you, his gaze softening with grace and adoration.

"I love you, y/n," He utters, feeling his chest tighten. "I love you so much. I love you with fiber in my body. I love you to the point of living...to the point of death." His jaw clenched, swallowing hard. "Fuck... you make me feel so alive...I couldn't lose you to anything, baby, I can't...you'd be the death of me."

All you could do was smile and reach in to give him a sloppy kiss.

Like countless times before he proves himself right.

Without even telling you, you knew from the way he cared for you time after time again that he's always loved you and vise versa of course. You knew deep down inside he loved you from the start. It was evident in the way he kept engaging with you, there was consistency, constantly making effortless eye contact with you and attentive to you mentally, physically and emotionally. He loved you past your flaws. Equally, you both loved how you two just connected with a snap of a finger.

Even after this moment you were so sure of his promise-- his oath, that you were his one and only.

And after a few rounds of endless love making, intensive fucking and tainting each other's skin, Jason and you were tangled up on the floor with your backs against the couch. While opening the last bit of gifts, a polyester blanket covers your lower halves as you feed each other chocolate covered fruit and sip on some wine.

Aside from the necklace you'd gotten this morning, you received a pair of your favorite shoes. You've been keeping your eyes on them for awhile now. They were expensive as hell and you were just waiting for them to get on sale.

Jason, however, went ahead and bought them without hesitation. He also bought a couple of outfits to even complete the look. You'd receive a goody basket of all your favorite snacks, a big stuffed teddy bear and another vinyl to add to your collection.

For Jason, he was gifted another book from a vintage store, a brand new pair of shoes since the last ones were starting to get a little raggedy, two matching hoodies and sweatpants, and a recipe book that he had been meaning to get but completely forgotten about it.

When the boxes were all empty and red wrapping paper was all over the place, he noticed one more sitting on the coffee table by the half empty bottle of wine.

"I'm assuming this one's for me?" He points, cocking a brow at you.

You frown following his gaze.

"Oh shit, yeah, that's yours alright." You confirm stuffing your mouth with a gummy bear, propping your arm up on the couch and resting your head in your hand.

He chuckles with a shake of his head, reaching for the red heart shape bag and settling back down beside you.

You study carefully as he starts to pull the paper from out of the bag. Expecting to see the present right then and there, he scoffs when he lifts the box in his hand.

"What did you get me, woman?" He grumbles playfully, putting the bag and paper to the side.

"Open it and you shall find out." You state smartly drawing closer to him with anticipation.

The last gift you'd gotten him was a military dog tag, a locket with a picture of you and him inside it. It captured the moment when he had asked you to be his girlfriend in midwinter. Around the falling snow at a nearby park. There was a wide smile on your face when you had said yes. Jason was so nervous that day, he thought he was going to shit his pants.

Beside it was a silver sterling ring with gold edges around it and along the inside of it were the words "forever mine" engraved on it.

Although he wasn't the kind of person to lavish in jewelry, this was something worth showing off... aside from you of course.

He looks to you with gratitude, leaning in to give you a passionate kiss, you move half way. Your noses brush before your lips collide.

The lingering taste of pineapple kiwi from the candy along your tongue evolves in his mouth as he deepens the kiss.

Sucking the sweetness off your lips, his hand wraps around your neck, engulfing every sense of you as your mouths moved leisurely.

"I love you." He whispers once more, after parting from you.

Observing the sparkle in your eyes under the candle lighting, he notices the smile across your face grew wider, nudging your nose against his sweetly.

"I love you too, Jason. Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

Masterlist | 𝕾𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi LAST ONE OF YOURS here's Jin!!!

Jin is. . .he's a lot sweeter than you'd expect once his affinity gets high lol. . . . I FEEL LIKE I ENDED UP WITH A LOT OF COMMENTARY HERE. . .he just acts very different as affinity goes up, i have to point shit out haha

I've also amended this one to be all of his voicelines now!

May 27th 2025 edit for his year 2 birthday lines

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Where the hell do you think you're going? Quit dawdling and help me get ready." お前、どこほっつき歩いてたんだ？……さっさと支度を手伝え

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you've got mail. Don't tell me you're not going to open it. What if it was for me?" おい、手紙。放っとくつもりじゃねぇだろうな。 俺宛があったらどうすんだ？ あ？

Jin, why would your mail be in my. . .whatever

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"...Get to the point. The trash here is so long-winded." チッ……さっさと要件を言え。ゴミどもはこれだから面倒くせぇ

"A party? I don't waste air on bootlickers. Try Tohma." 社交界？　肩書き目当ての奴らに構うつもりはねぇよ。塔真をあたれ

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Hurry up. ...What? You got a problem? Spit it out." おい、ぼさっと突っ立ってねぇでついてこい。 ……何だ、文句でもあんのか？

"Kneel! Tsk... Where's {PC}? Bring her to my room." 跪け！ 　……チッ。あの女はどこだ。今すぐ俺の部屋に連れてこい

"What? Your schedule's not my problem. Just arrange it around me." あ？　お前の都合なんて知らねぇ。黙って俺に合わせてりゃいいんだよ

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Huh? I don't want to see your face at the crack of dawn. Get out." ……あ？寝起きから、その面見せんな…… 下がってろ

given how vulgar his speech is sometimes i'm surprised he didn't say "asscrack of dawn"

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Tell the chef I'm not in the mood for meat today." ……シェフに伝えろ。今日は肉の気分じゃねぇってな

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm not wasting my time fooling around with those brats today. If they're really that bored, just make them go on a low-ranking mission or something." ガキの遊びに付き合う気はねぇよ。そんなに暇なら、適当に低ランク任務でも行かせておけ

he's just barely avoiding making iPad kids out of Kaito and Lucas lmao

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Put my dinner over there. I'll eat later if I feel like it." ディナーはそこに置いておけ。気が向いたら食っておく

i am once again asking the ghouls to FUCKING EAT PROPER MEALS.

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I need more data for this case...  Go find Tohma, servant." 任務の資料が足りてねぇ…… 下僕、塔真を呼んでこい

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"A Class C anomaly? Miss me with that weak shit. Why do you think we have a Vice Captain?" あ？　Ｃ級怪異？ つまんねぇことに俺を巻き込むな。 何のために副寮長がいるんだ？

MISS ME WITH THAT WEAK SHIT I AM IN TEARS WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What about class? Ha. What makes you think you can lecture me? Worry about yourself." ……授業の時間？　ハッ、俺に説教とはいい度胸じゃねぇか。お前は自分の心配でもしてろ

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't even know that? What do they teach here?" ……そんなこともわからねぇのか？この学園の教育はどうなってんだ

I guess Jin has a good handle on the material and everything he'd need to know, as a third year. I say 'as a third year' but Alan didn't understand some of the basics so--

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Bianerus! ...I'm not feeling it today. You can go." ＜ビアネルス＞ …………チッ。調子が悪い。今日はもう下がれ

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's late. We're done here. Leave." ……もう遅い。話は終わりだ、下がれ

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're late. You've got some nerve making me wait, servant." ……遅ぇよ。下僕ごときが俺を待たせるな

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I'm hungry. Go order lunch. For two." ……腹が減ったな。おい、ランチの手配をしろ。２人分だ

i guarantee you the pc did not consider that he meant "i want to eat lunch with you" the first time this happened. she probably just thought "damn jin's hungry today."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You have plans? Take a second and really think about whether your plans are more important than me before you open that mouth again." 今日は都合が悪い？ ……俺より優先する価値があるか、よく考えてから口を開け

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Why are you so chatty today? Just pour my tea and get out of my face." チッ……うるせぇ。いつもの紅茶だけ淹れて失せろ

'stop trying to befriend me and go away' lmao

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You should be grateful I'm giving you the time of day this early in the morning." 俺が朝から相手してやってんだ。ありがたく思え

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why do you look so worn out? If you're going to serve me, learn how to take better care of yourself. Tohma, take her to the infirmary." おい下僕、なんだその顔色は。俺に仕えるなら体調管理は万全にしろ。 塔真、こいつを保健室に運んでこい

why the infirmary. . .i don't think she needs a doctor i think she needs a nap. You're overworking her didn't Tohma tell you not to break her you donut

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's still early... You want to practice the waltz? Bold, aren't you? You're going to be sore tomorrow." まだこんな時間か。 ワルツの練習？……生意気に催促しやがって。 覚悟しろよ。お前は明日、筋肉痛だ

are we still. . .talking about the. . .dancing. . . .

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to dine with me? Ha. All right. Show me if you've learned anything." お前と俺が、ディナーを一緒に？ ハッ、面白ぇ。お手並み拝見といこうか

impromptu lesson on table manners!?

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's quiet tonight... Sit here, next to me. We're playing a duet. Don't give me that look. You'll know this song." 今夜は静かだな……隣に座れ。 連弾だ。そんな顔すんじゃねぇよ。 ……お前も���ってる曲だ

I previously used the expression names to describe his expression as 'pouting' and 'like a spoiled child' but he mostly just looks irritated lmaooo

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." ルーティンにしたのはお前だろ。責任取って、明日も起こしに来い。 ……これは命令だ

how quickly we go from "i don't wanna see your face first thing in the morning" to "i had better see your face every morning". . . . (it's not quickly at all. it's actually an incredibly slow process getting affinity up.)

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant. ...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it." チッ。昨日は体を動かしすぎたな。 下僕、次はマッサージだ。 ……足りねぇよ。もっと強く押せ

i love this one he's just like bitch what the fuck kinda weak ass massage is that put some back into it?????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't know about dining etiquette? I don't have time for this... If you want me to teach you, I better see that nose on the grindstone." テーブルマナーがわからない？ 面倒くせぇ……俺に教わるからにはそれ相応の覚悟があんだろうな？

we are reaching critical levels of "i need to make you presentable so you can meet my father" also I find it funny that this is after the "you wanna eat with me? let's see if you've learned anything" line. WHEN WERE THEY SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD LEARNED OR DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO STUDY YOU AS YOU EAT

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What's that? My helicopter, obviously. Quit gawking and get in." 俺のヘリだ。見たらわかんだろ。……いいから、さっさと乗れ

get in servant idk where we're going but you are going with me

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I've got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight." 明日は早朝から用事がある。お前が寝泊まりしてる寮からじゃ間に合わねぇかもな。 今夜は、ここに泊まれ

another expression note. . .he's looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck here. He's shy, almost. Because he's not asking you to stay over to perform some task. It's not your usual master-servant dynamic. He just wants you close to him. As close as possible. He really is rather sweet.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Never learn, do you? I don't take you being here for granted. I know it won't last forever. That's all I'm going to say." 懲りないやつだな。言っておくが、こうやってお前が隣にいること…… 俺は、永遠に続くとは思ってねぇぞ

Jin makes a kind of sad face when he says it won't last forever. well, as sad as he can manage.

He knows that once your curse is broken you'll probably go back to your ordinary life. If your curse can't be broken you'll die. And if you, for some reason, continue to stay at Darkwick even after being cured, he'll be a fourth year next year--he's gonna go off to do field work. Eventually he'll work in the highest levels of the Institute and eventually he'll take his father's place as the president. With all of this, there's no way you'll be able to be together, no matter what. This is a short lived burst of happiness and attachment for him. It means a lot more to him than you realize.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) What's with that look? I'm not allowed to yawn?" ふぁっ…… あ？　何だその顔は。俺があくびして悪ぃか？

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The flowers you can see from the balcony? Yeah, I had them planted. ...My mother liked them." バルコニーから見える花……？ああ、俺が植えさせた。 …………お袋が好きだった花だ

the balcony bg and the front of frostheim background don't have flowers visible in them(i mean the balcony has potted plants but no flowers). . .i wonder what kind of flowers his mother liked. maybe the pc will grow them when they turn into a Kyklos.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sunset's supposed to be nice this time of year. Come on, servant. Before I change my mind." 春茜か……おい下僕、少し外に出る。 俺の気が変わる前に付き合えよ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're going to see the cherry blossoms tonight with the brats? Suit yourself. I doubt any of you can appreciate them." あ？　ガキどもと夜桜を見に行く？ 勝手にしろ。お前らに、あの風情がわかるとは思えねぇけどな

'you guys are too poor to appreciate nice things'

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Those little shits are so loud this morning... They're worse than the cicadas. Tohma, go exterminate them." クソ、朝からガキどもがうるせぇ。 塔真、あのセミより鬱陶しい奴らを駆除してこい

MODS, PUT 'EM IN THE BLENDER.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"What kind of moron chooses to go out in the sun this time of year? Unless you want your brain to melt, stay here with me." わざわざこの時期、日を浴びようなんて奴は馬鹿しかいねぇ。 お前も脳みそ溶かしたくなきゃ、ここにいろ

jin. . .this is frostheim. it is PERMANENTLY WINTER here, even to the point of that the day-night timing doesn't change. It's not hot unless we leave the boundaries of frostheim. . . . THIS IS A THINLY VEILED EXCUSE TO GET YOU TO STAY WITH HIM.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"You've got tickets to a fireworks festival? The view's better from a helicopter. ...You've got guts thinking you can show me a good time, peasant." あ？　花火大会の観覧席チケット？ 花火はヘリから見るもんだろ。庶民の分際で俺を誘いやがって……

'peasant' is worse than 'servant' in my opinion. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Haven't heard the sound of waves for a while... Get the speedboat. I'll drive." しばらく波の音も聞いてねぇな…… おい、今すぐクルーザーを出せ。操縦は俺がする

jin just shoving you into various vehicles to take you places is really funny to me for some reason. you're like his purse dog. he just wants to take you everywhere even if it doesn't really benefit him to do so. also he can drive a speedboat????

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I overworked myself. Go get Tohma. I was right having him get that PT license. I should have you get one too." 塔真を呼べ、オーバーワークした。 あいつに整体の資格を取らせたのは正解だったな。 下僕、お前も取るか

. . .doesn't that take like three years minimum in japan. . .how did you get him to get that. . .didn't he only meet you like two and a half years ago and you weren't even in the same house then. . .is that a darkwick offered course. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A pumpkin spice latte? I'm not drinking this saccharine garbage. Give the rest to the brats." あ？　パンプキンスパイスラテ？ こんな甘ったるい茶は飲まねぇよ。残りはガキどもにやっとけ

what do you think he is, a basic bitch like you? Not a big fan of sweets. Noted.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My favorite family vacation? Don't have one. This conversation is over." 行楽の思い出？そんなもんねぇよ。 ……この話は終わりだ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't play the piano because I like it. It's just force of habit." 別に、ピアノが好きで弾いてるわけじゃねぇよ。ただの惰性だ

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Don't fucking wake me up. Come back later." ……起こすんじゃねぇ。話なら後にしろ

he hates the heat he hates the cold. . .well he also hates mornings in general. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes." なんで雪だるまに、俺の名前が？ ……塔真、手袋を貸せ。これ作った奴の目は、確実に腐ってやがんな

"is that supposed to be me. . .? aw hell no i am fixing this shit"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Tell the chef and the brats we're having a roast dinner tomorrow. Kobe beef. They know how I like it." 明日はローストディナーだ、シェフとガキどもに言っとけ。 肉は神戸牛でな。焼き加減はわかってるはずだ

i like that the frostheim ghouls eat dinner together like a family. . .jin looks at Kaito and Lucas and goes 'those are my idiot sons. i cannot stand them.'

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're staying here tonight, servant. I'll show you an aurora you couldn't even dream of." 下僕、今夜は泊まれ。最上級のオーロラを見せてやる

see how this is worded differently from when he asks you to stay over because 'your house is too far away'? even when he's trying to be sweet to you, as long as he maintains your power imbalance he feels comfortable--he has something over you here--but trying to lay his feelings bare, just saying 'i want you to stay with me', that's so much more than he's used to saying.

His birthday (Year 1): (August 31st)

"A birthday party? This has Tohma written all over it, that asshole's always using me to— You're planning it? ...I'll think about it." 誕生日パーティー？　塔真の奴、また俺を客寄せに使って…… 違う？お前が主催？ ……気が向いたらな

'that asshole tohma is trying to make me go outside aga--oh you're planning the party. oh. okay. maybe.'

His birthday (Year 2): (August 31st)

"What? You got me a present? …You can give it to me later. Come to my room in an hour." あ？　俺に誕生日プレゼント？ ……あとで受け取ってやる。 １時間後に、俺の部屋に来い

he wants his present in private thank you u.u

Your birthday (Year 1):

"The song I just played? It's G. F. Handel. He wrote it for the queen's birthday." さっき弾いた曲？……Ｇ．Ｆ．ヘンデルが、女王の誕生日に送った曲だ

in case you don't get the significance of what he's saying here. . .lemme fetch one of Tohma's lines for you--

"I'm no more than a servant. Frostheim is ruled by a king, you see." 私はあくまで小間使いですよ。フロストハイムには、キングがいますから

my dude I think jin just called you his queen--only for your birthday though don't get cocky, servant

Your birthday (Year 2):

"Hey, servant. Did you get the package from Tohma yet? …No? Tch… What the hell is he doing…" おい、下僕。塔真から荷物は受け取ったか？ ……まだだと？ チッ。 あの野郎、もたもたしやがって……

on one hand. . .did you not want to deliver the present yourself. . .on the other hand. . .TOHMA WHERE IS MY GIRL'S PRESENT LMAO. . .he's just trying to teach you that you should do things yourself Jin!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you're ready for another year being at beck and call, servant. First up, my New Year's courtesy calls. Go do them for me." おい、下僕。今年も俺専用の女中として必死に尽くせよ。 まずは新年の挨拶回りだ。代わりに行ってこい

'happy new year! your purpose is still serving me.'

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's that sad-looking box you're holding? ...Oh. No, don't throw it away. I'll take it." なんだ？　この貧相な包みは。 ……ああ、そういうことか。 捨てなくていい。受け取ってやるよ

jin is one of those characters who probably gets a mountain of chocolates given to him by admirers, all brand name and like from famous confectioners and shit. real nice fancy packages. so he sees your shitty little unprofessional homemade thing and is like 'tf is that' before he realizes it's for him and it's made with love and he just. . .ah. no, i want that, actually.

White Day: (March 14th)

"Keep your schedule open tonight. You're having a meal your peasant taste buds couldn't even dream of." おい、今夜は予定を開けとけ。庶民じゃ一生出会えねぇような美味いもん、お前に食わせてやるよ

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hey, are you all right? ...Tsk. If that was a joke, it wasn't fucking funny. I've changed my mind. Cancel all my plans for the day." おい、お前大丈夫か？ 　……チッ。質の悪ぃ嘘だな…… 気が変わった。今日の予定はすべてキャンセルだ

i feel like Jin is about to put together the most elaborate prank and it's gonna hurt someone's feelings or get somebody hurt and no one will find it funny and he'll end up feeling super shitty. like that one spongebob episode.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Where the hell's Tohma? Asshole sent the brats to my room to beg for candy. Next time I see him I'm going to wring his fucking neck." クソ……塔真はどこだ。俺の部屋に籠持ったガキども寄こしやがって。 あいつ……ぶっ殺すぞ……

okay but did you give them candy?

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Go tell Tohma what color dress you're wearing tonight. Why? Maybe I'll wear a matching ascot tie. If I feel like it." 今夜着るドレスの色を塔真に伝えておけ。 あ？　理由？ 気が向いたらアスコットタイの色を合わせてやる

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Where the hell did she go?" ……あの女、どこ行きやがった？

(13 affinity and above)

"Shit... This is throwing me off. Who does that servant think she is?" ……クソ……調子が狂う。 下僕の分際で、舐めやがって……

he feels so wrong without you next to him aw

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"...You've got guts abandoning your place at my back, servant. I'm going to have to retrain you." …………っ、おい……下僕は常に主人の後ろにいるもんだろうが。 お前は再教育だ

ONCE AGAIN IT FEELS LIKE I PUT NEARLY ALL OF THEM IN IT'S ALL OF THEM NOW! The way he treats the pc in so many different ways but it makes sense with his character and feelings. . .as far as the home screen lines go, Jin definitely loves you in some capacity. He's actually quite clingy. . .i'm a little too sleepy for more coherent thought haha

[rainebelowzero]

May I request an abduction-play story? :3 (sorry I didn't know how to word this x3)

Kurt Kunkle X Dom Male Reader

notes: sorry this took so long :') anyways, I think this is the last request I had in my inbox and I have lots of time on my hands so please request stuff, also I love all of you guys, I've seen so many people that have been around since the beginning in my notifications so I wanna thank you guys for sticking around and also welcome the new people, I plan to be way more active so don't worry, I won't disappear again 😋

♡ kidnapping, having sex on stream, roleplay (technically), the reader is mentioned to be an influencer but it's up to you if that's real or just part of the roleplay, using spit as lube (i know that's cringeworthy in real life but lets just pretend its an acceptable replacement for lube in this) ♡

‘What the fuck?’ You think, your eyes opening hazily. You're….in some room, but not one you recognize. Your head hurts, and you can't even remember where you were before this. You were leaving a party one of your influencer friends was having, but other than that, you couldn't remember what happened.

You look around and realize you're tied to a chair, and you try to yank your arms back but they refuse to budge, making you wince at how tight the rope is. You huff, leaning back in the chair, trying to examine your surroundings and figure out what to do next.

Suddenly, a man comes into the room, a crazed look in his eyes despite his calm demeanor as he stares at you, holding his phone. You squint up at him.

“I wasn't expecting y-you to be awake yet.” He says with a small laugh. “Do you…remember anything?”

You don't even really want to talk to him, but knowing it's probably the only way to get out of this, you do so begrudgingly.

“...no.”

Kurt frowns, almost like a kicked puppy. “But..you said you would give me a shout out, you can’t- you don't r-remember any of that?” He asks disappointedly, his voice whiny and kind of annoying to you.

But something else he said…you said you would give him a shout out? It makes you remember what happened better. He was your weird Spree driver that you got on your way home. He made the conversation super awkward when he brought up your following and kept asking to collab, so you agreed to give him a shout out just so he would leave you alone. You drank out of a water bottle and then…you woke up here.

You glare at him.

“You're that fucking freak from the rideshare, aren't you? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, once again pulling at the rope.

Kurt frowns again, moving a little bit closer.

“There's no need for insults." He says softly.

“This is seriously pathetic, you expect me to, what, just tell people to follow you? Maybe make better content, dude.” You say with a bitter laugh.

He looks genuinely hurt by what you said, and for some reason it briefly makes you feel bad, though that feeling instantly goes away. It makes you realize that he might be easy to manipulate. You could work with that.

“H-hey, I work hard on my content! And I’ve- I have a lot of fans.” He replies defensively. You put on a fake guilty expression.

“You're right,” Saying that makes you cringe, but you continue. “I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. But I can't get into my phone if I'm tied up.”

You can see him considering letting you out, but then he grins and leans forward, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

“That's okay, I can do it myself.” He joyfully holds up the phone to unlock it with the face ID, but he frowns again when you start shutting your eyes and moving your head to stop him from unlocking it.

He grabs the back of your head, trying to force you to stay still to unlock the phone. You wince and glare even harder at him before turning your head and spitting at him, hitting him in the face. He steps back, shocked with wide eyes as he loses his grip on your hair. You swear you can see his face flush as he wipes it off, suddenly very fidgety. You squint, watching him as he avoids eye contact with you, his hand holding the phone slack at his side.

“Were you fucking into that?” You ask. This man is a freak. Little does he know, there isn't a person alive you can't outfreak.

You finally see a way to get untied, and you slide forward a little bit, spreading your legs as you stare at the man.

“Your name is Kurt, right?” You ask, lifting your leg and nudging him with your shoe, trying to get him to come closer. He does, hesitantly. He nods at your question, glancing down at your lap and then back at your face.

You're slightly uncomfortable with the silence, but it seemed like it was going to work, so you kept going with it. “Well, Kurt…I could give you something way better than views.”

He shakes his head. “There isn't really a-anything better.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Fine, I'll….I don't know, give you a way to get views if you untie me.” He seems more interested after you say that. He gets closer, reaching behind you and untying the rope, and you rub your wrists because of the pain of the rope digging into you. You glance back up at Kurt, and pull him into your lap. He looks surprised, for some reason even though you were pretty obvious with your intentions.

One of your hands grabs hold of his waist while the other slides down, taking your phone out of his hand. You can feel and see his growing erection, his face flushed as he stares down at you.

“You want to be famous, right?” You ask. He nods, looking pretty pathetic, which makes a feeling of warmth shoot down to your dick. You open your streaming app and go live, pointing the camera towards Kurt’s face. It makes his clothed cock twitch, and you gently nudge him to get off of you. He does, and he gets on his knees as you shove your pants down. Nestled in between your legs, face resting on your thigh, you continue to record as the viewers slowly trickle in, the chat confused about what's happening or commenting on the man in front of you.

Kurt slowly lifts a hand, pulling your semi-hard cock out of your boxers, visibly drooling when he sees it. He looks up at you and the camera as if asking for permission, and you give him a little nod, burying your free hand in his hair. He starts to move his hand slowly, watching it twitch and grow harder before hesitantly pressing his lips to the tip.

“Look at the camera, Kurt.” You say, and his eyes lock on the phone as he licks and sucks at the head of your cock.

You start to push his head down, and he enthusiastically takes more of you into his mouth, even when he starts to gag. You pull his head back up and then push him back down, and he lets you, completely giving up control of the situation almost immediately. His eyes never leave the phone, and you take a glance at the amount of viewers.

“200 people here so far.” You tell Kurt. He lets out a muffled moan, his eyes starting to tear up as he continues to let you manipulate his movements, bobbing his head up and down. You start to get rougher, making him take you down to the base before pulling him back up for air, and then shoving him back down, drool dripping down his chin.

He gags almost every time you shove him back down, but that only turns you one more, your cock slick with his spit. You pull his head up again, watching the tears run down his cheeks.

“Tell ‘em your channel, Kurt.” You urge him as he gasps for breath.

“K- Kurtsworld- Kurtsworld96 on e-everything.” He responds shakily, still staring at the camera. You push him back down without any warning, thrusting in and out of his throat.

“If you guys wanna see more of this cockslut, go follow him.” You say teasingly as the sounds of him choking and gagging on your cock fill the background. He whines around you, and you can tell even the thought of him getting more followers because of this was turning him on even more.

You force his head back up, saliva connecting the tip of your cock and his lips as he looks ruined, spit and tears running down his face. You slap your dick against his face a few times and he moans softly, staring up at you and your phone, the amount of viewers climbing higher and higher as you make sure you give them a good view of his face. His phone goes off a few times across the room, and he whines again as you push him back a little bit and stand up. You move the chair and gesture for him to lay down on the floor, which he does instantly. You kneel between his legs, roughly getting his pants and underwear off, his cock throbbing as it's exposed to the cold air.

You press yours against his, wrapping your free hand around both of them as you make sure you're still filming. You jerk the both of you off, making Kurt squirm and moan, his cock practically leaking. The size difference between you and Kurt makes the pool of heat in your stomach even warmer. You take your hand away, gesturing for Kurt to turn over. It takes him a second to register, but he does, and you use your free hand to lift his hips, getting him into the position you want. His ass presses against your hips, your cock against his hole.

You realize you don't have any lube on hand, so you move back a little bit and spit down onto his hole, making him whimper. You do the same for your hand, wrapping it around your cock and pumping it a few times, using that and your precum to make yourself slick enough.

You move the phone so that you're holding it directly in front of you, letting them watch as you rub the tip of your cock against Kurt’s tight hole, thrusting against it a few times and hearing his soft moans. He wiggles his hips a little bit, trying to get you to speed up, so you start to push yourself into him. He gasps, moaning as you get a little less than half way in. His hands are desperately trying to grab onto something, and you groan as his walls squeeze tight around you.

His hole greedily sucks you in, and once you're fully in, you roll your hips a little bit, making him whine. You start to thrust in and out of him, gripping his waist tightly. He pushes his hips back, fucking himself back onto you the best he could, letting out loud moans and whimpers. You were a little surprised he was that vocal, but you weren't complaining at all. His legs shake, his forehead pressed against the floor. The people in the chat are saying all kinds of things about Kurt as the view count gets higher.

You reach forward, slipping two of your fingers into his mouth. He starts sucking immediately, moaning around them as his tongue laps at them hungrily. You pull them back out, swiping the saliva you collected against his hole to keep it slick enough to keep going. His cock throbs again, rubbing against the floor, which can't be comfortable, but he seems to not mind, clenching tightly around you. You groan again, squeezing his ass and pulling him back into you at a quicker pace.

His moans and whines get louder, more high pitched and you can feel he's getting closer. You bury your hand in his hair, pulling his head up and holding the phone in front of him, turning the camera around so he can see himself and the amount of people currently watching. He moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as he cums. He shoots his load against the floor underneath him, clamping down tight around you. It makes you feel your own release approaching, and you bury yourself deep inside of him, causing him to whimper from the oversensitivity as you dump your seed into him, thoroughly stuffing the man who had kidnapped you.

He falls fully onto the ground, panting heavily as you pull out and end the stream, Kurt laying there shaking, and you, completely satisfied.

BONUS

You wipe sweat from your forehead as you catch your own breath, and after a little bit, Kurt turns and sits up, his used hole leaking your cum. Your demeanor changes and you gently run a hand down his arm.

“Did I do good?” He asks, exhausted.

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You did. Just don't tie the rope as tight next time, that really hurt.” You say, putting your phone down, rubbing at the soreness in your wrist as Kurt nods, getting comfortable against your chest.

[towasdandelion]

HAI AGAIN <333 I KNOW I WAS JUST HERE . SO PLEASE tell me if i am pitching too many ideas i feel like im in your inbox a lot (┬┬﹏┬┬) THANK U FOR ALL THE WORK U DO (∩^o^)⊃━☆

this is an angstier one so if u arent in the mood PLEASE SKIP SKIP SKIP

what about,,, reader and the ghouls just had an argument, and immediately after they split up to cool off reader is texting them about how they're so sorry and how they want to make up nd they hate fighting with them. like reader is really sensitive to rejection so much so that they're crying at the thought of the ghouls not loving them anymore because they saw the Bad sides of reader T0T

IM SORRY I GAVE THIS TO YOU IDK WHY MY BRAIN MADE A HARD ANGSTY TURN. if u feel uncomfy about it feel free to delete (づ￣ 3￣)づ

(if you do decide to write this you should do whatever characters you want!! i dont want you to get tired of ritsu LMAO) have a good day youre the best (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Hahaha you can stay in my inbox as much as you want! Some coffee or tea? I have cookies too! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ I like the idea, as angsty as it is heh. I decided to just pick the ghouls randomly and Ritsu just so happened to be one of them, what a coincidence right? (I really don't mind writing for him!)

They see your bad side during an argument

Jin didn't expect to see this side of you but he's aware how strong emotions can affect the way we behave. He doesn't feel any resentment towards you, if anything he's happy you reached out to him. Of course he wants to make up too. As soon as possible. But first, he needs to tell you how much of a dumbass you are for thinking one petty argument is all that's going to take for him to break up with you. You really don't realize how much you mean to him huh? Well, then get ready to be showered with most expensive gifts a man can find. (Yes, he prefers that over saying it out loud I guess he's not that good with words after all.)

Jiro's eyes widened when you just stormed out like that after coming to an agreement to cool off a bit. The whole argument definitely touched you more than usual. Instead of getting angry, he's going to focus on the causes of your behavior. He feels a bit of relief when you text him. But still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. He needs to feel that he understands you completely. Him not loving you anymore? Just where did you get that idea? Looks like he really needs to have a talk with you. And a cuddle session of course. He's not going to leave until he makes sure you know he will never stop loving you.

Romeo is too stunned for a moment. He never thought you could reach this level of anger. Usually he is the one with a bit of... anger issues stronger reactions. Just as he was thinking about this whole argument, a text from you pops up. Weird or not it makes him smile how you seem to be so embarrassed about getting angry. You're so silly it hurts... But how dare you think he's going to leave you!? He's going to abandon this whole 'cool off' thing just to storm over to you and demand an explanation. Though once he notices you cried, he will soften considerably, offering to hold you until you're ready to talk.

You're scared he's going to leave you after seeing you angry? Then imagine Rui. That guy is terrified. You're so going to break up with him aren't you? And after so much effort put into breaking his curse and finally being able to hold you... A message from you appears and it's all it takes for him to break down, but also to feel incredibly relieved. So you just want to make up too. He's surprised when you tell him you're scared he's going to leave you. How can you think about such thing when you're his whole world, and the reason he pushed forward to break his curse? After you talk it out he will come over and hug you tight.

Ritsu is taken aback but not for long. He will now sit and analyze which words of his were the most likely to make you feel this angry. He almost reached the conclusion but then a 'ping' pulls him out of his thoughts. It's a message from you. Naturally, he's ready to make up at any moment. And it's not only because he possesses good conversation skills. He just hates getting into arguments with you. He'd rather have your daily study session instead of wasting time on petty arguments! Wait, you thought he's not going to love you anymore? I guess carrying mock forms of marriage certificate in his briefcase means nothing hmm?

Sho is already used to Leo's nasty personality, so your outburst doesn't affect him as much. Sure, he doesn't like to argue with you but things happen and he's not going to be hung up on that. You're too precious for him to stay mad so he'd rather focus on making up with and- oh, a text from you. He's relieved to see you're on the same page but then you say something unexpected. You're afraid of losing him. Over an argument like that, really? He will really need to remind you that your relationship and his feelings for you are stronger than that.

[primrosebow]

YES PLEASE, part 2 😻 I would also LOVE to see his legs spread for us... Or maybe we forcefully spread them :3 either way I love you're art it's so hot, Lucifer's so hot. Just NEED to manhandle him 😞

-💌 anon (idk if that's been used, if so then 🐕 anon)

AH! MY KNIGHT! YOU WILL BE REWARDED HANDSOMELY FOR YOUR COURAGE IN STEPPING INTO MY INBOX!

_-->Lucifer x reader // pt 2🍎

//

!content warnings!: nsfw, edging (AAAHAHAHAA!!!! THE FIRST KINK NAME THAT I ACTUALLY FIGURED OUT! it's pretty self explanatory, but I'm proud of me so shut) probably other kinks but, again, nun. andddd a wee lil more writing compared to my other posts

Shoutout to 💌 anon‼️‼️

//

//

The air is thick with tension as lucifer catches his breath, tears running down his now hot face. He's completly oblivious to the atmosphere, however- he's too deep in pleasure to even realize what he'd just done.

You had explicitly told him not to cum, going as far as edging him for the last few minutes, but, of course he couldn't keep it down, in the same way he hadn't lowered his teasing, which was the exact behavior that had gotten him into this predicament. You see; Lucifer is honestly one of the best you could have ever dreamt for, wealthy, stunningly gorgeous, funny, patient- wait. Scratch that last part. He's not patient at all. When he wants something, he'll do whatever it takes to get it. And that time, it was to get you to have him as you pleased.

You honestly didn't know what had gotten into him, he'd been teasing you for the last several days with no signs of giving up -what was his goal with this?- you thought, whenever he'd litter kisses along your neck and imediatelly turn around and speed off to do god knows what. Whenever he'd lay on your lap and arch into you, displaying his body for you, only to turn around and act like nothing happened within a split second, even touching your sensitive spots and acting oblivious. Whenever- actually, you could go on all day long. And right now, he'd finally realized what he did.

His expression flows from one of relief into one of guilt. He turns his head from you, snapping his eyes down to your hand over his still painfully hard dick before dragging them back up when the sight alone had made him twitch in your hands.

His thighs had been strongly pressed against your arm before you used your other hand to make Lucifer look at you. He looked frustrated, ashamed, confused- why all of that? Because this wasn't the outcome he expected. He thought you'd have your way with him, bend him over the nearest flat surface and fuck him out of his mind, he thought you'd overstimulate him until he couldn't think of another thing other than the sting of his drawn out pleasure, thought you'd be rough with him.

But no, you were gentle.

With your actions, at least. Your words were pure venom. "You want to get treated like some desperate slut, huh?" "You look down on those sinners but you're no fucking better." "You're already drooling? My god you're pathetic." "You haven't earned my touch- much less the right to cum. You've been nothing but an inconvenience, you're lucky I'm even doing this" as you so gently jerked him off with the most delicate touches, holding his hand, ghosting your lips over his neck and moved the hair out of his face. The juxtaposition from the two extremes of your words and actions drove him insane- he just couldn't deal with it, you were tearing down his whole being by the second- and eventually, he couldn't hold himself anymore.

You don't spare him a word as you push his legs apart and watch them tremble to stay open for you as rushed apologies and poor excuses left his mouth. Before he could continue with his apologies, you roughly rub your fingers over his tip, earning a broken, fucked out moan from him, his tail a dead giveaway of his enjoyment of the new treatment.

"Is this what you wanted?" Was your unamused response. You kept going at the much rougher pace you had just now set, his eyes fought to remain open as more tears flow out of his red, glowing eyes; he wasn't prepared for such intensity after what you had put him through "aah- mh- w-wait -oh goodness- please! Have mercy!" His pleading falls on deaf ears as you continue at your current movement. The king of hell had his pride completly broken, and you weren't even close to being done with him.

Ah, seems like the two of you have a long night ahead of you

//

//

I just found out about weevils I am not the same woman I was 10 minutes ago. I love these stupid little guys. I love them so much. I love weevils.

Sorry for dying I'm back tho with like a truckload of stuff in mind to tell yall abt. Also I don't proofread or anything this is like as raw as it gets.

Ermm @ ing @bigfatbimbo because this mf into lucifer FOR REAL💪💪

[buckys-little-belle]

Henlo! If it's okay, could you make write a fic about Bucky comforting his little during a thunderstorm? A storm was near my house a few days ago and the thunder scared me so bad-- The power didn't go out, but storms usually happen a lot where I live-- thanks <3

Rainy Days

Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used/No Pronouns used)

Warnings - Reader is scared of storms, reader eats snacks, talks of loud noises, talks of lightning/flashing lights, descriptions of a thunderstorm, ready is sad and scared, Bucky is sweet and thoughtful!

Notes - I made this headcannons, I hope that's okay! Honestly I've been going through my inbox and drafts and trying to clear them out, but writing full fics is something I have to be in the right mood for. But headcannons? I've been feeling headcannons lately, so do send some headcannon requests in if anyone has some! And please expect very old asks to suddenly resurface in the shape of fics/headcannons written literally years later <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

You've always been scared of thunderstorms. Rain is nice from time to time, but when the loud booms of thunder begin and lightning strikes, you suddenly begin to feel scared.

It's not rational, you know the thunder can't get you and that if you're inside you're safe from lightning. Yet when the storm begins to get louder and the rain begins to pelt harder, you find yourself curled up wherever you are, stuffie held safely to your chest.

Bucky could tell you'd get antsy whenever rain drops would begin racing on the windows, you'd stare outside seemingly waiting for something to happen.

After the first thunderstorm you two witnessed together Bucky knew he needed to be prepared for the next one. He hated seeing you cry, and how scared you got. He felt helpless and vowed to make sure that didn't happen again.

So now he has a small bin in his closet labeled "Rainy days". Inside are a pair of headphones he bought that block out any noises. It's made chatting between the two of you hard on those rainy days, you yelling because you can't tell just how loud you are, and him doing his best to charades his words. But because it rains so often, you two have had time to practice, and communication comes much easier.

He bought you little stickers to put on the headphones, so that instead of just plain boring black headphones, you have ones decorated by your favourite cartoon characters and fun little stickers of plants and dinosaurs.

He also has special activities for the two of you to do on those days. He wanted something different than the toys you have all the other days. This way you stop feeling dread thinking about thunderstorms, now that feeling is over taken with a subtle excitement for the special glitter crayons in the box, and the really cute stuffed animal named "Rainy" that you get to snuggle with.

Bucky always buys those PDF files on etsy that are colouring pages. For $2 he gets 6-10 fun pages, and he'll print them out for you on his fancy work printer. He finds it easier than buying colouring books because there's no risk of ripping your colouring when you evidently want to rip the page out and put it on the fridge. Plus he finds it over all cheaper, and there are no more tears when you don't like the way you coloured something, sad that you can't do that pretty picture anymore, he just prints out a second one.

Bucky is also a fan of physical media. He has both a DVD and a VCR player. So he has two movies stashed in the box that you really like for those rainy days, and those rainy days only. He doesn't know how, but you've been able to connect your headphones to the Tv, so you can't hear the thunder when you're watching them.

Also snuggles, rainy days mean as many snuggles as you want. Doesn't matter if he's on a work call, doing the laundry, or in the middle of making dinner. If you come up and ask for a hug you end up getting 20 minutes of snuggles and soothing back rubs.

You don't venture outside when it's a thunderstorm, but Bucky has been warming you up to "liking" rainy days by showing you how fun puddles can be.

He buys you a cute raincoat and matching boots, and as long as there's no thunder or lightning, he'll take you outside and splash in the puddles for an hour.

Instead of being terrified of thunderstorms, and hating the days they happen, you've slowly been able to accept that they'll happen sometimes, and you've grown to know your safe, very safe because Bucky is always at your side on those days. Ready to comfort you, ready to play whatever game you want, and ready to jump in puddles when possible.

[ynbabe]

Hey I was just wondering if you ever made a part two to the bull rider!reader with Logan?

If you come back to America, just hit me up ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x Male! Reader- p.t.2

Link to Part 1:

Okay so A/N? It’s been a long time since I’ve uploaded fics so I hope yall still like me 😭 but this all I got rn as I’m working on my ao3 fics which I’ll share here soon!! Also this completes all the requests I’ve got in my inbox- I’ve had some glitches (cause it’s Tumblr and a sideblog) so if I missed any fics pls do let me know and I’ll get on them asap, and within the month this time I pinky promise!! Anyways part two and I hope yall enjoy it, comments and reblog are always appreciated!!

The past few months had been awful. Logan had been going through a horrid time in his team, which had finally led to him being fired, six races before the season ended. You hadn't been doing much better, angry that your boyfriend (whom however many people shipped you with had to remain your 'friend' for 'pr reasons') was going through so much and you couldn't do anything to help.

It didn't help your relationship either- all that time apart, with the pressures of your jobs and overbearing feelings had been ripping into the easy connection you had with each other.

It hurt to see the daily calls dwindle to a few sporadic texts a week. You weren't innocent either, having the jobs you both did you had to have a certain spirit, a certain temper about yourselves. And this was very much visible in fights like these.

You knew you weren't in the wrong, you couldn't have been! All you wanted to do was spend time with your boyfriend, make him feel better and he couldn't even tell you he was back home? You could have made the day's drive down to Lauderdale. You could've taken a flight, hell you would have hitch-hiked.

The call was getting heated. Both your voices rising.

"Maybe I wanted a fucking break Y/n. Maybe I didn't want another set of goddamn expectations on me," His voice echoed through the phone, stroking the flames of rage in your brain.

You didn't have the time to think before you spoke, "Don't you go lying on my name sayin' I got demands of you-" your accent thickened to a point it would've sunk in a bowl full of tar. "Never, did I ever say nothing more than meet'in you,"

"God, you don't get it, do you? I don't need your pity! I don't want your sorry's I want some time to myself, you know what I need a fucking break," he snapped, yelling again.

Your eyes widened at his words, the volume of your words exceeding any acceptable Southern manners, "YOU NEED A BREAK? FUCKING DAMNIT LOGAN, WHAT BOUT ME?" you didn't cry much but the harsh tug of your vocal cords and heartstrings was pulling tears to your eyes. "I've been looking out for ya' I've been thinking bout you- about all your damn issues for the past half year," oh you were in it now, "I'm bout to have the biggest show of my life and all I can think about is you-" no words came from the other side, pissing you off even more, "fuck, you know what Sargeant- if you come back to America, just hit me up, because that's all I am to you, isn't it? Another damn obligation."

You slammed your thumb down on the red button, vision blurring, and the itching feeling in your hand to throw the phone didn't help clear it either.

What the hell, sure. You threw the device with a scream, a loud crash and a shattered iPhone later, you could finally see single.

The door to your room opened in a hurry, the man on the other end looking worriedly around the room and up and down at you to assess any injury. "Why did you do that?" Your manager asked, bewildered, never having seen you angry before.

"Needed an update anyways." you coughed out, voice still hoarse. He didn't seem to belive you, but left you alone. You knew you should talk to someone, you should have spoken to your teammate, apologised to Logan but you were just so tired and angry.

But you should have, you should put all this out your mind before getting on that bull. All the crowds screams and yells fell on deaf ears as you faded in and out of consciousness, only the fast beating of your heart letting you know you were alive.

The sand flew and stuck itself to all nooks and crannies of your body. The rough grits grinding between your teeth. Nothing made sense anymore, light and darkness came in waves. First you saw your team, then the ambulance, then a hallway and then nothing.

You remembered the vague pull of gravity, and the harsh shock against your ribs but nothing more than that.

Outside the room, there was shouting, a distinct accent rising above all others, trying to be let into your hospital room.

Logan hadn’t been able to fly down to face you after that fight, knowing he’d been wrong, but that hadn’t stopped him from watching it on tv. Where he saw the bull buck and sway, you’d held on pretty well but then you were being thrown of and the blonde could swear he’d died a half death waiting for you to move on the ground. He saw as the marshals pulled the bull away and the medics took you off the arena on a stretcher. While the rest of the audience were stunned quiet, frozen in shock, Logan was running around like a mad man, packing a bag and trying to book the fastest flight to you. He hadn’t slept, he hadn’t even eaten, the thought of loosing you making him nauseated.

He was panicking, trying to explain to your team that he had to see you, that he meant something to you, that you meant everything to him.

He’d heard the doctor tell your manager that you had a concussion and a few broken ribs. Thankfully neither injuries were bad enough to cause long term damage and you’d be fine in six weeks. But that didn’t stop Logan’s heart from hammering in his chest.

“Look, obviously you know we’re friends, so can you please just let me talk to him?” Logan argued with your manager.

The man huffed, blocking the door to your room from the hysterical blonde, “from the last time y’all spoke, I don’t know if y’all are even friends-”

“THAT-” Logan cleared his throat, immediately catching himself, “is none of your concern, I-I made a mistake okay? I need to apologise.” He let you be hurt still being angry at him. Your sport was dangerous, known for its brutality, and he couldn’t help in feeling like he was part of the reason you were in the hospital right now.

“Look- Oh Fuck,” suddenly the man cut himself off, running into your room, and Logan let himself run in as well.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised to see you all bandaged up, trying to sit up. He immediately ran to your side, your manager side eyeing him the whole time.

“Logan?” Everyone stopped, your first words after being conscious.

“Yeah, it’s me, I’m here, I am so sorry-” He had begun, but you simply pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him.

“Knew you’d come back.”

[puppym3]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

all of my works will be listed here!

note!: some of my works have some smut in them, be aware. also, these fics are not to be taken seriously, please do not be too delulu.

⊹₊⋆ bangchan

temptation

synopsis > after waking up and realizing your boyfriend isn't next to you, you find him still working in his office. after asking him to join you in bed and his many refusals, you try convince him to join you.

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friction and fire

enemies to lovers one bed trope with bangchan.

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insecure chan

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perv roommate chan

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⊹₊⋆ lee know

off-road ride

synopsis > you and minho are on your way to meet up with your friends, but get distracted along the way.

. ₊ ⊹

'i love that i like you, but i don't wanna love' (angst + hurt comfort)

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⊹₊⋆ changbin

under the table

synopsis > you and your boyfriend, changbin, are at a restaurant with the other members. freshly back from a workout, changbin looks irresistibly attractive in a tight shirt that accentuates his toned physique. unable to resist, you let your desire get the better of you, subtly exploring his muscles under the table.

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⊹₊⋆ hyunjin

dear farmer, (fluff)

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preparing for fashion week (fluff)

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⊹₊⋆ han

skincare night (FLUFF)

. ₊ ⊹

jealous!jisung

. ₊ ⊹

best friend's older brother

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⊹₊⋆ felix

movie night

synopsis > you invited felix over for movie night. you've only been dating for a little while and you're the first person he's ever dated, so he's nervous being so close to you.

. ₊ ⊹

transfer test

. ₊ ⊹

seven minutes in heaven , pt. 2

synopsis > you and your best friend, felix, are at a party. felix has a massive crush on you and you have no idea, so when you get picked for seven minutes in heaven with him, you didn't expect it to change everything for you.

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ seungmin

heartstrings and lullabies : pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5

synopsis > after losing your biological father, you and your mother frequently move, eventually landing in seungmin's home. initially uncomfortable, you bond with seungmin, in which you help him care for his baby brother, yun. your relationship evolves from awkwardness to something else.

. ₊ ⊹

take you home tonight

synopsis > seungmin knows you from mutual friends, and he always thought you were cute but you've never interacted with him. you both were at a house party you both were invited to and once he finally grabbed your attention, he never let it go.

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unmasked

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⊹₊⋆ i.n

my baby

synopsis > after you call jeongin a "baby", he tries to prove to you that he can be dominate, able to take control at first but slowly losing it.

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GUIDE TO MAKING SUGGESTIONS!

so you guys already know about leaving things in my inbox, but to make them easier for me to write and to give me a better idea of what you want, here's what I would prefer included in the suggestions!

if you're suggesting smut, please mention if you want a fic that's smut with or without plot, it saves a lot less reading for you!

if you can, please make it as descriptive as you can for me, it's more likely you'll be satisfied with the results if you do!

if you want me to have creative freedom with my writing, that's perfectly fine with me too!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

my current taglist!

@loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

you can request to be on my taglist, i would be more than happy to add you!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[tswhiisftteedr]

Carmilla x reader NSFW? Specifically, eating out after a long day at work. The two going a few rounds from the pent-up stress?

I’m pissed, please take care of me ☆ One shot

☆ Employer!Carmilla Carmine x Employee!Fem!Reader:

After a shitty day at work, you and your boss who is simultaneously your girlfriend, decide to let the days stress go by ‘working out’ your frustrations.

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise kink, Oral Sex(Both Female Parties Receiving), Bad Spanish, NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2549

Note: So this a combination of 3 requests, sorry @hyenalover2630 if you don’t like this cuz that’s not what you asked for, I did a one shot instead of headcannon so sorry agin but I though rounding up similar requests would be a smart move. Also this one shot is a bit on the shorter side so that’s that.

Author Note: Soooo, I’m back from the dead, 38 request in my inbox, 15 of them being just Adam requests lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Finding yourself in hell was more than just a lousy situation—it was a downright nightmare. Amidst the chaos, the moral decay, and the ridiculous housing prices, you were desperate for any job that could keep you afloat. You applied everywhere, except under Valentino; you wanted no part of that mess.

So, it wasn't surprising when you ended up as a grunt in the marketing department at Carmine Inc. But you were a hustler, always quick, efficient, and responsible. Your work ethic didn't go unnoticed, especially by the big boss herself.

You couldn't help but admire her in many ways. She was a badass, running a successful business with an iron fist, yet she had a sense of fairness. And let's not forget, she was easy on the eyes, which only fueled your crush.

After a meeting she personally set up, you scored a promotion to be her personal assistant. But even with the big leap, you didn't slack off. Your efficiency was still on point, and Carmilla appreciated it.

As your role in the company evolved, so did your connection with Carmilla. It all started with those little touches—a hand on your shoulder here, a pat on the head there—that seemed innocent enough at first.

But soon, those gestures became more frequent and intimate, like her guiding hand on your waist or the way she'd ask you to stick around after hours for a chat and a drink.

The formalities started to fade away, with Carmilla calling by your first name and encouraging you to do the same, replacing your usual ‘Mme. Carmine’ by the overlords name. It was like she was inviting you into her inner circle, blurring the lines between boss and friend.

As the months passed and you continued to excel in your role as her assistant, Carmilla couldn't help but notice a shift in her feelings toward you. Your hard work and dedication were undeniable, but it was more than that. She found herself drawn to you in a way she hadn't expected. Plus, the fact that you were a beautiful woman did help in growing her attraction for you.

It became increasingly obvious to Carmilla that you harbored feelings for her as well. Your nervousness whenever she was around spoke volumes, manifesting in stutters and how you would visibly warm up whenever her gaze met yours. It was a telltale sign of the attraction brewing beneath the surface.

Furthermore, she couldn't ignore your subtle cues for validation and compliments. You seemed to thrive on her words of affirmation, going above and beyond in your tasks just to earn a simple ‘great job’ or ‘I'm proud of you, Y/N’ from her lips. ‘And who could blame you? With Carmilla being the hot Hispanic woman she was, who wouldn't want her singing their praises?’

After two months of silently pining for each other, where Carmilla was keenly aware of your feelings while you remained oblivious to hers, she decided it was time to break the stalemate. She orchestrated a meeting after hours, summoning you to her office to address the unspoken tension between you.

As you sat down, she wasted no time in getting to the point. With a mix of nerves and determination, she confessed her own feelings, revealing that she had long known about yours as well. It was a moment of vulnerability for both of you, but also a turning point.

The conversation didn't end there. Carmilla proposed taking a chance on each other, suggesting that you go on a date that weekend to explore the potential of your connection further. You agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at what lay ahead.

The subsequent dates were nothing short of magical, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and shared moments of intimacy. With each passing day, your bond grew stronger, and it became increasingly evident that what you shared was more than just a fleeting attraction.

By the fifth date, it was abundantly clear to both of you that you wanted to take things to the next level. Over a candlelit dinner, you shared your hopes and dreams, expressing your desire to make things official. And as you toasted to your newfound love, you knew in your heart that you had found something special amidst the chaos of your workplace.

Despite the enchanting aura that surrounded your relationship with Carmilla that usual had you on cloud nine, today proved to be shitty day nevertheless.

First, there was the debacle with the rogue shipment. Some brainless thugs decided to mess with a Carmine truck, oblivious to the glaring logo emblazoned on its side. Needless to say, they met their demise, but not before causing a heap of trouble.

Then came the catastrophe with the catalog files—a rookie managed to obliterate an entire folder of vital content. The painstaking recovery process left you on edge, uncertain if the files would return unscathed or corrupted.

And if that wasn't enough, that blasted Vox bastard had the audacity to cancel yet another meeting with Carmilla, marking the third time in a row. The gall of him, treating her time as if it were disposable. You couldn't stand that attention-seeking-whore man-child with his oversized ego and incessant need for validation.

As the day dragged on, you finally collapsed onto your bed, still fully dressed save for your shoes. Frustration, exhaustion, and pent-up tension weighed heavily on your shoulders. It was a relief when Carmilla entered the room, her expression mirroring your own.

With a sigh of resignation, she joined you on the bed, her presence offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. In that moment, without a word exchanged, you found solace in each other's presence, united in your shared frustration and exhaustion.

Sighing heavily, Carmilla reached for the bottle of beezeljuice resting on the nightstand, taking a generous swig before passing it over to you. You accepted the bottle, mirroring her earlier gesture as you took a deep gulp, relishing in the familiar burn as the liquid slid down your throat. It was a small but comforting ritual, a shared moment of indulgence amidst the chaos of the day.

As the evening steadily slipped away, the weight of your troubles began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through you like wildfire. You found yourselves leaning closer, your bodies pressed together as you sought solace in each other's embrace. Your lips met in a heated kiss, passion exploding between you like a bolt of lightning.

Your tongues danced a fiery tango, exploring every inch of each other's mouths with a fervor that belied your exhaustion. As your hands wandered, exploring the curves of each other's bodies, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of hope. Despite the challenges and tribulations that the afterlife threw at you, you were a force to be reckoned with.

"Acércate, mi amor," Carmilla murmured against my lips, her voice low and sultry as she pulled you closer. "Today has been a living nightmare, but your presence makes everything better. You're the wind beneath my wings, my sweet girl."

Her praise was music to your ears, making your heart flutter and your cheeks flush in delight. To hear her speak such kind words, to know that you brought light into her day was like floating on cloud.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you broke your kiss, your breaths ragged and hearts pounding in sync. Carmilla's eyes smoldered with hunger as she reached for the buttons of my shirt, skillfully releasing each one until it pooled at my feet. Your undergarments followed suit, leaving you naked and vulnerable in her capable hands.

In turn, you mirrored her actions, slowly peeling away layers of her clothing until she stood before you in nothing but her ballet slippers and stockings. Her skin glowed under the dim light, her statuesque figure an ode to her grace and power. As you gazed upon her, you felt a raw, unbridled hunger stir within you, a primal urge to taste her.

"Mi alma," Carmilla whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Can you be the good girl i know you are, take care me? Will you be a sweetheart and eat me out?."

Without hesitation, you knelt before her, her scent enveloping you as you parted her legs and settled between them. Your fingers traced delicate paths along her calves, sending shivers down her spine.

As you approached her core, Carmilla's fingers threaded through your hair, guiding your head between her legs with an air of completely control that sent shivers down your spine. You reveled in her power over you, knowing that she desired to be in charge, to assert her authority in this moment of vulnerability.

"That's it, mi vida," she purred, her voice a seductive symphony that resonated throughout the room. "Show me how much you love pleasing me."

Your tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive skin at the apex of her thighs, drawing a gasp from her lips. Her hands tightened in your hair, urging you forward as you dove between her legs. The taste of her was divine, almost making your head spin.

Carmilla moaned softly, her thighs clenching as you explored her folds with reverence. Each stroke of your tongue was deliberate, each flick a testament to your devotion. Her groans of pleasure echoed around you, a symphony of lust that only heightened your desire to please her.

“Eso es todo, lo estás haciendo tan bien, fuck! Keep going, my beautiful girl.”

As you delved deeper, your tongue probing the depths of her pussy, Carmilla's moans grew louder, her body arching with each stroke. Her fingers twisted in your hair further, grinding you against her with a firm hand that you hungered for. This display of dominance was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that mirrored her own passion.

"Just like that, mi corazón," she encouraged, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Your actions became more fervent, your lips and tongue working in concert to bring her pleasure. Her hips bucked in response, her sighs and gasps filling the room with the soundtrack of our passion. You reviled in her reactions, feeding off her energy as you explored every inch of her tender flesh.

Carmilla's breath hitched, her grip on your hair stronger than ever before as she neared her climax. Her body trembled beneath you, her whispered praises— ‘That’s my girl’, ‘So proud of you, you’re doing such a great job’, ‘I love you so much my beautiful girl’— urging you onward.

As she reached her peak, Carmilla's back arched, her moans filling the room like a thunderous roar, “¡Ya me vengo!”. Her body convulsed, her climax washing over her in waves of ecstasy. You took pride in the role you had played in her release, revelling in her praises as she came down from her high.

Panting, she pulled you upward, her lips claiming yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt as to the power she held over you and the loved you share. "Great job, my love," she breathed against your lips. "Your tongue truly is a work of art."

Then, without warning, Carmilla reversed your roles. With a swift motion, she pushed you onto your back, her eyes gleaming with newfound determination. Your heart raced as she positioned herself between your legs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"Now, it's your turn," she growled, her voice deep and sensual. "Spread your legs for me, Y/N."

You obeyed without a moment of resistance, your nerves jangling with anticipation as she lowered her head. Her tongue darted out, tracing a path that sent shivers cascading through you.

Each touch was electric, her tongue exploring every inch of your body with a precision that left you breathless. Her absolute control and expertise was entrancing, and you craved more. Your hands gripped the sheets, seeking purchase as she continued her exploration.

With every lick and suck, you grew closer to the edge, your moans mingling with her satisfied hums. It wasn't long before you could bear it no longer, and with a “Go for it, sweet girl”, your body thrashed beneath hers as you climaxed. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you weak and breathless.

When you finally came down from your high, Carmilla lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Perfect," she purred, her voice a siren's song that enchanted you as if you were a sailor.

As soon as your senses were regained, Carmilla had wasted no time in resuming her ministrations. Her tongue dove back into the folds of my heat, her appetite for pleasure seemingly insatiable. You writhed beneath her, unable to contain the surge of pleasure that coursed through me.

Her fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as she feasted on you with unwavering passion. Your moans filled the room once more, intertwining with her satisfied grunts. The intensity of her attack overwhelmed you, pushing you to the brink once more.

Overstimulated by her persistent attention, you cried out as you climaxed once more, your body shaking with the force of the experience. When you finally came down, panting heavily, Carmilla released you, her eyes shining with victory.

"Now, that's what I call some well spent frustration," she said, her voice still thick with desire yet quite comforting and sweet. "What do you say we take a moment to catch our breath?"

You nodded, your body still trembling from the intensity of the intercourse. As you lay there, your hearts pounding in sync, you couldn't help but marvel at the relationship you shared. Despite you differences, your love had brought you together in a way that felt both natural and exhilarating.

Carmilla's hand traced lazy circles on your stomach, her thumb brushing across your navel as she gazed into your eyes.

The quiet was a welcome relief, but there was something eating at you that you just had to vent about. "Okay, but seriously, that Vox dude is a major asshole, right? I mean, he's practically begging for a meeting and then bails three freaking times in a row. Am I the only one who thinks that TV demon is just a whiny little prick?”

"Mi amor, the beacon of my day and the guiding star of my night—" Carmilla responded emphatically. "I couldn't fucking agree more with you. That guy, and his associates, are just a bunch of overgrown kids with way too much damn power for anyone's good. If it weren't for you and my daughters, I swear to Santa Maria I'd probably have blown my fucking brains out by now dealing with their goddamn irresponsible behavior.”

After Carmilla's passionate outburst, silence descended once again, but it didn't last long. Before you knew it, both of you were erupting into fits of laughter, finding humor in the absurdity of it all.

You both instinctively drew closer, holding each other tighter than before. Despite the shitty day you had endured, there was comfort in each other's embrace.

As you nestled against each other, a thought crossed your mind: ‘maybe karma was real after all.’ If finding reassurance in Carmilla's arms was your reward after such a terrible day, perhaps the universe's scales were fairer than you had previously believed.

Thanks anons and @hyenalover2630 for requesting!

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Statistics update

This week was holes and cruises.

... and USA getting to 1000 individual visits 🇺🇸

I knew it had to happen at some point, I still didn't expect USA coming in like a steamroller with no less than 36 visits this week (nearly 3 times the usual amount). No surprise, their participation is going up 📈 - what I *was* surprised by is that specific statistic staying under 27%. Let's do everything we can to keep it this way!

UK also got to 350 visits 🇬🇧 - that I was expecting, I just didn't expect both things to happen the same week.

In other news, Antarctica 🇦🇶 and Tanzania 🇹🇿 got to 10 visits (Kansas too), The Netherlands 🇳🇱 to 30, and Australia 🇦🇺 to 80.

(also the fight between New York and California seems to be active again)

Please send submissions for countries other than the USA, for example the ones with less than 20 visits (which is more than 80% of the list) and see you all next week.

Thank you for the stats!

Seconding the above - if you want to see more places from anywhere but the USA, please please please submit them! There are far too many USA locations sitting in my inbox.

As always, check the submission guide before you submit!