#my insides melt when the guitar goes off

[skinreflectsthesun]

Want your body with me

Tell me do you miss it, bae?

[hyukascampfire]

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

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

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

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

wc ➛ 17.9k

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

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t things just stay like this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just... don’t know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚝⭒ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home. You are home. 

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

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

[sillysowa]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM OML 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Would you be comfortable with writing a hobie x femreader where Hobie walks in on reader pleasing herself. The rest is up to you

THANK YOU ANON!🫶 Absolutely! Here you go~

NEED A HAND?

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT, FLUFF, ENEMIES TO LOVERS?

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: MASTURBATION, VAGINAL FINGERING, CUNNILINGUS, VAGINAL SEX, DEGRADATION + PRAISE, SPITTING, ‘ANGRY SEX,’ FLUFFY AT THE END

AUTHORS NOTE: I DECIDED TO GO WITH A DYNAMIC WHERE HOBIE AND READER HAVE A COMPETITIVE RELATIONSHIP IN HQ, BUT THEY WANT EACHOTHER

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE WALKS IN ON YOU TOUCHING YOURSELF WHILE MOANING HIS NAME—DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU HATED HIM?

—

“Hobie fucking Brown with his stupid fucking voice, and his freakishly long fingers! His…his annoying smirk, and his obnoxious fucking style, god!” You groan, stripping out of your clothes furiously and staring down at your underwear—You were wet, actually fucking horny because Hobie decided today was a good day to test your limits. He didn’t do anything necessarily crazy, he just sat right next to you, manspreading with his leg pressed against yours, slinging his arm around your shoulder and placing his hand on your inner thigh when he got up to leave, whispering a deep,

“Y’look absolutely ravishing today.” In your ear like it was no big deal! Who the fuck does that? You’ve both always been sort of competitive with eachother on missions, personalities clashing when you work together. He likes to throw half-mean-half-flirty remarks at you and you like to shut it down. That’s how it goes—but today? Straight up flirting? You couldn’t handle it. You instantly got on your bed and pulled your rose toy out of your night stand, turning it on and spreading your legs.

You felt a little ashamed of yourself, but the moment you felt those sweet vibrations on your clit it all just melted away and thoughts of Hobie between your legs clouded your vision, your heart racing and your skin dampening,

“Fuckkk~” You groan, throwing your head back and panting at the feeling, “Yes, Hobie. Eat my fucking pussy, fuck~” Your moans get louder, the sensations on your most vulnerable spot making you writhe. You can’t stop thinking of Hobie. You think of his face and how good he’d look naked on top you—or his tongue deep inside you after whispering pure filth in your ear, or his piercings and how good they’d feel on your folds—you think of it all, your eyes clamping shut and your free hand hiking your leg up higher by the back of your knee. Your pussy clenched around nothing, your mouth opening as you moan,

“Fuck me, Hobie...”

“Am I interrupting—?”

You cut him off with a gasp, scrambling to clamp your legs shut and cover your breasts. Your mind raced…

What. The. Fuck.

Hobie is standing in a portal in front of your bed, walking through it smugly with his hands in his pockets. He looks shocked, but he’s doing a decent job of remaining calm and collected. You on the other hand…you don’t know how to explain anything, your vibrator still buzzing on your bed and covered in your juices,

“Well isn’t this’a sight f’sore eyes…?” He chuckles, “Here I was thinking you hated my bloody guts but now look at ya…all hot and bothered. Did my teasin’ earlier make your pretty pussy wet? Y’look pretty frustrated y’know, need a hand?” He smirks, slowly removing his guitar and vest. He looks incredibly tall in your room, towering over you on your bed and as he slowly removes his clothes. You finally muster up to the courage to speak,

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You ask, your pussy throbbing at the sight of his toned and smooth skin, his abs and v-line exposed for your hungry eyes to swallow like prey. You genuinely can’t believe what’s happening right now but even worse you can’t believe how much you’re liking it! You literally can’t tear your gaze off of him as he strip-teases for you. You knew you couldn’t fuck him…you work with him! You’re one of Headquarters best and here you were, horny and desperate for a delinquent anarchist…but good god his dick was massive!

He pulled his boxers down and what had to be just shy of ten inches of rock hard dick popped out, springing up just for you. Your mouth gaped open and you shamelessly stared,

“Texted you to tell you there was a change’a plans in tomorrows mission but you weren’t respondin’ so I figured i’d just stop by and tell ya—never knew you’d be flicking the bean and moaning out my name.” He smirks devilishly, coming towards the edge of your bed. He knows you want this by the look in your eyes and the way you let your legs fall open, but he needs to be sure,

“May I?” His voice comes out in a special deep kind of way that you’ve never heard before and your pussy clenches, your spidey senses going wild. You know he feels it cause one of his eyes squints, the strong feeling tugging at his senses, and he smirks when you whine,

“Fuck, yes, p-please just—“

“Shhh relax love, i’ve got you.” Hobie whispers, crawling on top of you and roughly spreading your thighs with a grunt, planting a kiss right on your sensitive clit. He pauses for a moment, locking eyes with you before sucking on it like a lollipop. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your hands twitch, the feeling making you shake,

“O-Oh fuck…Hobie, y-you suck at this.” You lie through your needy sounds, your hands reaching towards his head and thrusting his face deeper against you, the slightly shocked look in his eyes fueling your need and making you feel like you were in charge for a moment. Hobie pops off of you with ease despite your strength, and he web shoots your wrists above your head in a matter of seconds,

“Since y’were begging f’me, I think i’ll just take control, yeah?” Hobie smirks, his lips latched onto your clit instantly, kissing and slurping on it sensually—delivering you the most pleasure you had ever felt.

“Y-you’re, mmf!- such an ass, Hobie~” The room felt hot and your skin felt sticky, his teasing gaze at your words making your pussy gush. You tried to fight back the moans, panting and squirming at his every touch. Hobie wanted to hear you. He slapped your thigh, a yelp escaping from your lips as he slurped you up like you were his last meal. He got all kinds of revved up from your pettiness, rutting his dick into the sheets as he proved to you that not even you knew your body like this,

“You like that don’tcha love?” Hobie growls into your pussy as he does absolutely sinful things with his tongue, things that you didn’t know were possible—the moans were becoming so hard to bite back. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his nose and tongue. Hobie felt the way you pulsated and when he looked at you and saw your eyebrows furrowed the way they were, he knew you were close,

“Give it to me, Y/N, I want it all.” He groans, his tongue working like a machine on your clit, steady rapid pace flicking it just the way you needed to cum all over his face, squirting like you never have before. Your back arched and you tried to hide your face by turning, embarrassed at how fast you came from just Hobie’s tongue. You knew he’d get a kick out of it, and sure enough,

“That good love? Couldn’t have even been more than 5 minutes.” He laughs but he kisses your thighs, licks up the mess, and then reaches for your face. You were surprised when his hands came to your jaw and he looked into your eyes—He kind of looked like he was going to kiss you.

That was when you felt his tip at your entrance, prodding and pushing in. You couldn’t even try to keep quiet, and you could look away as he held your face and his half lidded eyes bored into yours. It was sadistic, that look he gave you while your eyes widened and watered, your lips parting as pained moans spill from your lips—he was huge and he knew it.

“How’s that feel, doll?” He whispers, eyes never leaning yours as he thrusts himself all the way inside your tight cunt. You’re so wet that he doesn’t even have to try to move, his dick ramming inside you like a piston. In contrast, he gently smooths his thumbs over the balls of your cheeks, watching every expression that strikes your features,

“Y-You’re too big—“ You moan, your eyelids twitching and fluttering as your body turns to jelly. You had never felt something so filling in your whole life…of course Hobie had to have the biggest dick you’d ever felt…there was no sly remark you could possibly throw at him when you were breathless just from the first couple of thrusts,

“You’re taking it so well though, hm? Such a good girl.” Hobie groans, sliding his hands down your body and kissing your neck while he grips your hips, “You feel so fucking good. You’re so dirty touching yourself at the thought of me and spreading your legs like a whore at the sight’v my dick,” He grunts out through his moans, thrusting into you and making your whole bed shake. You physically can’t handle the praise and degradation that he throws at you all at once,

“H-Hobie…you’re so fucking annoying!”

“Oh yeah? I’m annoying? Well you’re sobbing on my dick right now, not a good look is it, love?”

You can’t even think as Hobie pulls almost entirely out of you before thrusting into you full speed, leaving you choking on your breaths for a moment. He looks right into your eyes, repeating the same rhythm and smirking at your needy sounds—the way you can’t help but cry out in pleasure each and every time,

“What was that?” He asks, mock pity in his voice, “Too fucked out to answer hm?”

You tug at your restrains, pleasured tears spilling from your eyes as your turn your head, moans tearing out of your throat,

“I-Mmm~ Fuck…Hobie!~ I-I hate you!”

At this, Hobie just comically tilts his head. He knows you don’t hate him, the way your heart beats out of your chest and your ankles lock around his back as he fucks you—even the way you tease him or yell at him—it’s full of want and need…desire even. His pace never relents as he massages your hips, his deep voice making your heart drop,

“Look at me.”

You don’t. You feel embarrassed at how easily he’s gotten you into this submissive state when you’re one of the strongest people at HQ. You just moan and cry, grunting in frustration with every drag of his dick deep inside you,

“Y/N, look at me.” Hobie says in a sultry tone, voice filled with lust. You feel his chill hand creep up to your jaw, refocusing your gaze on him as he snaps into you at a brutal pace, hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy drip. When your eyes lock on his, he looks absolutely irresistible. There’s a sheen layer of sweat clinging to every inch of his skin, and there’s a glow to his features that you had always seen but never like this. You just want him. You have him but you need him. You need him and he needs you, the hand on your jaw tightening as he brings his thumb up to your lips, pulling your lips open. Hobie leans down, thrusting into you and making your bed creak as he spits right onto your tongue. It stuns you like a slap on the face, but it turns you on like nothing before. Your pussy clenches impossibly tighter around Hobie and you swallow his spit, groaning gutturally,

“You’re so fucking nasty.” He groans at the sight, pressing your knees down beside you and thrusting into you with fervor,

“You’re no better.” Is all you say, trying to sound steady even though you’re a mess for him. You’re digging your nails into his back and dragging them down his smooth skin, begging him to go faster as your body convulses. You’re both breathless in passion, too scared to admit that this was more than just sex. You want each other in a debilitating way, in a way so strong that it scares you—so you fuck like crazed animals and chase your release together.

Hobie’s ears tingle at the sound of your moans increasing in pitch and volume, his senses ablaze with the feeling of your warm hands on his back and the sight of your intoxicated gaze. He looks down at you as you throw your hands around his neck and spill pretty noises from your parted lips. Hobie doesn’t know what comes over him but as he nears his orgasm, he leans down slowly, closing the gap between the two of you. There’s no excuse ready in his mind when he sees your eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back, knowing that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Hobie?” You ask, voice full of need and confusion. You’re feeling desperate, on the edge from him so deep inside you, the pleasure building and your head spinning—but now…now he looks like he’s going to kiss you and that scares you. Not because you don’t want it but because you do. Your heart races as one of his hands finds its way behind your head and the other under your jaw.

“I want to kiss you...I-I really want to kiss you.” His words come out huskily, and his gaze softens as he’s about to cum.

You say nothing. You just hold him in the same endearing way and close the gap, pressing your lips against his gently—a juxtaposition to how his hips desperately ram against yours as you both cum, moaning into the kiss and desperately trying to taste each other, afraid of what comes when the moment is over. Hobie’s eyebrows furrow and he struggles to kiss back, releasing himself inside you before he pulls you up and into his lap, still deep inside. Your naked bodies are moving in tandem—lust, need, hunger, desire, desperation, fear, and love. When you finally break the kiss, you’re both breathless. He looks into your eyes and you look into his. You want nothing more than to shy away from him answering to never have to speak of this…but you both know there’s no going back now. He gently strokes your back, his hold on you secure and comforting. He tore your walls down and destroyed you, and now you’re completely on display for him. It doesn’t feel bad…it feels surprisingly natural to be with him like this.

He holds you close, his chin on your head. You feel the deep vibrations on his vocal cords in his chest as he speaks, “You don’t actually hate me do you?” He chuckles.

“No.” You quickly say, mumbling with your cheek pressed against him, “I think we both knew that though, Hobie.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara

[luveline]

an eddie/roan/reader request <3

roan loses a tooth and reader is freaking out asking if it hurt, if she’s okay, and roan is just excited bc that means the tooth fairy is gonna pat her a visit!!!

ty for your request ♡ eddie and roan. step mom!reader. 1.1k

Eddie's trying to prove to you that he can play Master of Puppets on the guitar, but it's been a long time since he was twenty. "Ah, fuck," he says, stumbling over another chord. "What the fuck. I thought muscle memory was supposed to remember things for me." 

"I think you need to prompt your muscles into remembering," you say, cross-legged on the armchair with a pint of vanilla ice cream in your lap. "Can you play my favourite again?" 

"Depends. What's in it for me?" 

"So much. I'll scratch your back all the way through Princess Polly tonight." 

He immediately sets his fingers against the first chord of your favourite song and begins to play. Your back scratching literally haunts him. He can be on a rolling board under a truck that stinks of dirt and old oil and he'll be dreaming of your fingernails and their gentle up and down, his face on your shoulder, in your neck, buried in your thigh, whichever way he lays down. A song for an hour of your touch is easy work. 

He suspects you like doing it as much as he likes getting it. You love taking care of him. You're good beyond words. 

Eddie watches you nod along to his playing happily, a spoon between your lips, a dot of melted cream on your chin, and he knows what he has to do. "I'd ask you to marry me if I hadn't already done it," he says. 

You cut into your ice cream with a delighted jaunt. "I'd say yes for sure. You can ask me again, if you like. After the song." 

"I'll ask you as many times as you want. I'll even throw in a free song—" 

The air rips apart with a signature Roan Munson scream, which is to say, it's impossible to tell if Roan is in immense pain or having the most fun of her life.

Eddie almost chokes putting down his guitar as you ditch your ice cream on the arm, half a second behind him as he races upstairs.

"What's wrong?" Eddie shouts as he goes. "What? What?" 

"Daddy!" she shouts as Eddie throws open her bedroom door, sitting on the heart-shaped rug beside her dollhouse. "Lookit!" 

You move his elbow aside to squeeze through the doorway. "Is that a tooth?" 

"It's my tooth!" 

"Oh my gosh, princess!" you yelp, kneeling down in the plush rug in front of her, your thumb on her pale chin. "You're bleeding! Aw, sweetheart, let me see."

Eddie blinks dazedly, bending down to take the tooth Roan offers. It's tiny and white with a hole at the bottom that's darker on the inside. He rolls it around in his palm. Is she really that age? he asks himself, looking unsurely between his hand and Roan where she beams on the floor. 

"There's blood on your dress, too," you say, fingers held delicately against her cheek. 

Eddie doesn't have ugly hands, but it's different to see you touch her. You're a sweet, careful woman when it comes to mothering, a soft touch through and through. "Can I see?" 

Roan tips her head back and opens her mouth. Clear as day is the gap in her pearly white teeth, a bottom tooth now gone. 

"What did you do?" Eddie asks knowingly. 

"Nothing! It felt wobbly so I just bit on my Prince Dylan until it felled out." 

"Baby," you murmur, wiping the bloody spit off of her lips, "you hurt yourself?" 

"It didn't hurt that much." 

"Maybe let's not force them, Ro. Teeth come out when they're ready. If you start pulling them out before they're ready you might have wonky ones. And you shouldn't hurt yourself," Eddie says, kneeling down next to you for the united front effect. 

Roan looks at least somewhat chastised. "Okay. I won't pull them out until they're ready. But now the fairy comes, right? The tooth fairy?" 

Eddie grins, endeared by his devious little monster. You curl your sleeve down to press the clean edge to her gum, a frown creasing your face. Roan winces and you flinch, tucking her hair behind her ears in apology. 

"Sorry, lovely girl." 

"It's fine!" she says, flashing her first gap-toothed smile. "Don't worry, mom, it's just a small ow." 

You soften at the name and drop your hand to hers. "Okay. I won't worry… you know your first tooth fairy and your last are the special ones, right?" 

You and Eddie take to whispering as the bath runs that night, a debate of the ages. You think losing your first tooth deserves a new bike, or at the very least a new custom princess dress from the boutique in Indianapolis. Eddie thinks it deserves a kiss and a crisp twenty dollar bill. 

Roan splashes suds at your socks and tells you to stop whispering so much. 

That night, after Eddie forfeits half of his back scratching time to let you cuddle Roan, he sneaks into Roan's room with twenty dollars and a note. 

"Can we take another picture?" you whisper from behind hjm. 

"I think the flash might wake her up," he whispers back, the two of you standing still at the foot of her bed. She's clutching Teddy to her chest, curls splayed over her pink pillow, one of her feet sticking out of the sheets. "The first picture was really cute, we'll be fine." 

Roan smiled to show off her gap with her small tooth held up to lense. Eddie's gonna get it printed and maybe framed. She looks like a kid in the clothes catalogues. 

Together, you and Eddie tiptoe to her pillow to retrieve the lost tooth and replace it with her boon. Inspired by her statue-like stillness, Eddie leans down to press a kiss into her hairline, trying hard not to wake her up. 

Roan affords him no such luxury in the morning. "Dad!" she shouts, straight into his ear canal. He chokes awake. "The tooth fairy said you'd buy me a scooter! Is that true?" 

"Only if you stop yelling," he whines, burying his head under the pillow. 

Roan climbs onto the bed and over his back. He groans as his back clicks, settles when you put a hand on his shoulders sympathetically. 

"Your fault," he says. You're the one who campaigned for a new scooter. 

"Sorry, handsome," you say. 

Eddie will feel much more forgiving in a couple of hours. 

[robbiefischer]

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

☕ - Coffee or tea?

💀 - How do they feel about horror movies?

💖 - How and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? How and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

for your ladies!! :)

Tysm for asking about my girls! I'm going to do this for Jamila and Viola, Saoirse and Zoe, and Felicity and Shiloh. Jamila and Viola are both surgeons - Jamila's a plastic surgeon, and Viola's a trauma surgeon. Saoirse is a licensed esthetician and massage therapist and plays bass guitar in fables. Zoe is a hair stylist, and is a vocalist (and occasional strings player) in fables. Shiloh is a wedding and event planner, and Felicity owns a really cute little sweets & gelato shop in Maplewood, a small town right outside of New Islington. (Also tysm for your lovely prompt a few days ago! I love it and am really looking forward to working on it once I've finished this other ficlet I've got in progress.) Cut because this got really long.

💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

Saoirse: Not to use love language terminology, but Saoirse really appreciates little acts of service, whether in romantic or platonic relationships. She loves it when people do little things for her without her having to ask. If Zoe takes her car out to gas it up and get it washed for her? Fantastic. Someone grabbing her water bottle to refill it for her while they're up getting themselves something? Amazing. She comes home late after a really long shift to a clean house and dinner made even though it was supposed to be her night to cook? The best. Getting a bit of a shoulder and temple massage from Zoe after work without having to give her puppy dog eyes? Incredible. A friend giving her their hoodie because she looks cold? She melts. She just really loves it when someone takes a responsibility off of her shoulders - could she do all of this herself? Yes, easily. But not having to is SO nice.

Zoe: Zoe's absolute favorite thing is probably being given small, unexpected gifts that make it clear that the giver really gets her and knows her well. They don't have to be big or expensive at all (frankly, she prefers it if they're not) but things like a hot cocoa bomb Saoirse grabbed for her at the store because she knows Zoe loves chocolate and cute things or a new pair of fuzzy socks because it's getting cold out and Zoe always has ice blocks for feet? Jasper (one of her work friends) bringing her her favorite tea latte when he runs out to get himself one without asking her if she wants one? A new mug because she broke hers, or a pretty postcard for her to put up at her station at the salon? Knowing someone was thinking of her like that makes her all warm and fuzzy inside.

Viola loves to be spoiled and surprised by the people who love her. She loves it when Jamila plans fancy date nights for the two of them (Jamila always goes *way* overboard, right down to picking out Viola's outfit for the night and often buying her a new dress or something), loves surprise fancy spa trips for a massage and facial, loves fancy gifts, loves it when her brother gifts her a gorgeous new bag after she gives him a long weekend break from his toddler who is very much in the throes of the terrible-twos. She is definitely a champagne tastes kind of girl, and thankfully she and her wife have the budget to match that.

Jamila loves praise and compliments more than pretty much anything else in the world. Yes, she is gorgeous. Yes, she is a brilliant surgeon. Yes, her sutures are utter perfection. Yes, that outfit is fabulous and suits her perfectly. Yes, she is the best wife ever. The meal she cooked for her and Viola after a long shift is amazing. She's the best sister-in-law ever and is just SO good with her baby niece. She knows all of this but she craves hearing it from other people at all times and will essentially purr like a very satisfied cat when it happens. Viola always makes sure to compliment her and praise her, even leaves her little notes to find which Jamila absolutely adores.

Shiloh is a very tactile person and loves physical touch more than anything else. She loves having her hair played with or braided, long, soft hugs, foot rubs (she REALLY loves a good foot rub), shoulder and back massages, snuggling on the couch with her girl, a friend rubbing her arm or squeezing her shoulder encouragingly when she's stressed, soft forehead kisses... she gets touch-starved easily and loves having her physical affection bank refreshed and poured into.

Felicity's favorite gestures are anything to do with feeding her. While she does actually enjoy cooking, it feels like SO much work a lot of the time and she'd rather just cry while she poured herself a bowl of cereal or ate shredded cheese right out of the bag bathed in the light of the fridge. Having someone cook for her or bring her a snack or order delivery for lunch for her while she's at work makes her feel all warm and fuzzy and cared for, whether it's Shiloh having her favorite comfort meal waiting after a really long day or her sister, Verity, dropping by the shop with a snack for her. The way to her heart is through her stomach.

☕ - Coffee or tea?

Viola is an "inject caffeine straight into my veins" kind of girl. She'll do cold brew with a couple of espresso shots on top, black coffee, quad shots, iced Americanos (no water, just ice to dilute it)... every great once in a while she'll indulge in a slightly sweet seasonal latte around the holidays but that's pretty rare and she couldn't have anything sweet be her every day drink.

Jamila, on the other hand, is really sensitive to the taste of bitter so while she likes coffee, she needs it to be sweet enough to cover the taste. She's not a big fan of mochas, but loves anything vanilla, caramel or hazelnut. She also loves tea, but mostly herbals and white teas because of the bitterness issue. Her favorite way to relax after a shift is with a mug of her favorite mint and rose white tea and a book in front of the fire.

Saoirse prefers tea and tea lattes (especially green teas or matcha lattes, although she'll never say no to herbals, chai, rooibos or other black teas), she really isn't a fan of coffee although she'll begrudgingly drink it if she's really dragging and just can't wake up or is super fatigued. Zoe knows something's up with her if she's willingly drinking coffee.

Zoe loves coffee, but she prefers it sweet (and preferably iced and blended and topped with whipped cream, unless it's really cold out). She's also a big fan of fancy hot cocoa - at least partly because she was never allowed it growing up and she's making up for lost time.

Felicity's a coffee person, but goes back and forth on whether or not she wants it sweet or not. It really just depends on the day. More often than not she prefers just a basic, unflavored latte but sometimes she'll go nuts and make herself something fancier.

Shiloh would rather have soda or an energy drink most days. She's not opposed to coffee or tea, although neither of them are daily drinks for her. She knows energy drinks really aren't great for her, but also she doesn't care. They work and that's what matters to her - girl is *all* about efficiency.

💀 - How do they feel about horror movies?

Viola loves horror movies, but they rarely scare her. She finds most of them funny, just... ridiculous and overwrought. Her job's kind of desensitized her to gore and blood, and she just doesn't believe in anything supernatural so none of it's real to her. She just finds them entertaining.

Jamila is scared of horror movies, but she'll watch them (the non-gory ones at least, she's not a fan of it or anything with torture) with Viola, usually peeking out from behind her hands while she watches with her wife all snuggled up next to her. Every time she jumps, Viola hugs her a bit tighter.

Saoirse and Zoe both like them, but only around Halloween. October is horror movie month, and neither of them will watch them the rest of the year. It's purely a "get in the mood for spooky season" thing for them, often while they're carving pumpkins or working on costumes. Zoe loves Halloween and goes all out for it, so they have to set the right vibe for it.

Felicity will not watch horror movies. She doesn't like them at all, they really scare her (she was raised really religious and while she's not any longer and has deconstructed, there's still a lot of horror movie content that revolves around things she was taught were "evil" and they still distress her even though she doesn't really believe in them) and it's just not something she's willing to compromise on.

Shiloh's not a big fan of them in general, but she's got a couple that she likes and will watch around Halloween but only if Felicity's out of the house doing something else. She doesn't want to risk her girl walking in on her watching one of them since she knows how much Felicity hates them.

💖 - How and how often do they try to impress their partner(s)? How and how often do their partner(s) impress them?

Okay, so this question is a bit hard to answer because I feel like most of my OCs don't really try to impress their partners although they might accomplish it unintentionally sometimes. They just... treat their partners really well and do things they know their partners like because they love them, but there's no real intent to impress if that makes sense? They just love their girls a lot and want them to be happy so they do things accordingly.

The only one I feel who really makes an effort to impress her girlfriend is Zoe and, frankly, a lot of that is a trauma response. She spent so much of her life not getting any recognition for the things she did and having her efforts actively diminished that she has a heightened need to be praised and recognized and to do things that get other people's attention. It's something she's working on in therapy, not desperately craving other people's affirmations as much and she's getting better about it.

[ghost-proofbaby]

hi it's 🎸 anon i just got back from hanging out with the guy!! He loved the hat and the guitar i got a hug ☺️ and we were hanging out in his dining room building my Lego set (I got this flower bouquet set and let me tell you driving it home was NOT FUN) and his mom was chatting with us for a while. But we got into the legos and we were sitting with our legs touching the whole time and I am aware this is very innocent but it made me very soft inside. Any time one of us moved away or got up we would go right back to it and it wasn't just me initiating it. He kept making jokes about stuff id say about the Legos like I said I can't get it in and he just giggled at me and I was like 🙄 or I said now it's too small and he was like you said it I didn't 🙄 and I discovered I do not mind inappropriate jokes if it is coming from a cute boy and not my weirdo coworker. And he kept looking over at me and watching me while we were building the Legos it kept making me blush. Once we finished building it (and his mom gave me a cup to put them in. His parents are really nice they've both given me things like his dad gave me yarn they randomly had?) we went to his room and he played his guitar for a while and I was very brave about it and didn't melt into the floor. And his dad came in and this is when he gave me yarn and the guy seemed very ticked off that his dad came in while I was there it was kinda cute. Oh and he made me tell his mom about the coworker and she was rightly appalled. but then we went back out after that and his parents were arguing about dinner like hardcore arguing and it was very awkward for 🎸 anon bc the guy was having trouble with his ear I guess he had surgery when he was younger and it like acts up sometimes so he wasn't hearing very well so I don't even think he heard much of the arguing but i didn't know what to do with myself so when he went out to try to befriend cinnamon (this stray cat they're trying to tame) I ran out after him like SAVE ME IM AWKWARD and we sat out there for a while making friends with the cat. And we came back in and his parents were still arguing and his mom just went to bed and I was like 🫠🫠🫠 But anyway we hung out with cinnamon more and I threw cat treats at him 😂 and then he went into their garage and he laser engraved me a keychain with a cat on it and he kept bumping into me on purpose. But I stayed a little longer and then when I left he walked me to my car and I was telling him I think he needed to go up and down the mountain to pop his ear maybe cause that finally fixed my ear from the plane and then I blurted out and you can visit me! and he was like oh I see what you're doing and I was like what ☺️ I'm not doing anything and he was like maybe and I said okay and he said possibly and I said I'll take it and he said maybe possibly probably and I said I'll take that 😂 and then he hugged me and he was like thanks for hanging out and I said thanks for helping me with the Legos and I went to let go and he DIDNT and he grabbed me closer and I literally think he was trying to pick me up or something cause I stumbled and like fell into him and we like stared at each other for a second and I got into my car and he was like okay tell me when you get home and I said okay and I really wanted him to kiss me and im debating on texting him that 🤔

JUST READ ALL THIS AND IM YEARNING BUT I MUST SOLDIER ON TO THE NEXT UPDATE FUCK NONNIE.

also yeah it’s innocent but sometimes those are the things that just get you, you know? like. the innocence punches you in the gut. it’s the same feeling as realizing you’ve found someone you want by your side no matter how mundane that life may be. see the quote, “in another life, i would have really enjoyed doing taxes with you” (i believe that’s how the quote goes aaaa)

[le-souriant]

#MusicMonday Review - January 2023

#MusicMonday is the hashtag I've been using for quite a while to share music recommendations from up-and-coming artists. Always fresh, and always different, trying to look for trends before they become one. You can check December's review for more music.

Welcome to 2023! We begin the year with a collection of songs that are filled with the hope and desire to see revival in individual hearts across the world, with a word from the artists themselves. 🎧

Dynamite Shakers – Broken Space Spirit

I feel like I'm locked in I can't find a way out Everything seems to crush me

We begin the year in St-Hilaire-de-Riez, France with a band that makes Garage Rock so seriously fun that takes its vintage roots, and goes to a different level for a bass and guitar groove:

"We wanted to compose a song that could fit as an intro for our gigs, so we wanted it to be long and dynamic. We were very inspired by the song “Starfire 500” by Amyl and The Sniffers (an australian punk band that we adore)."

Socks In Bed – '75

Hot off the press in '75 Were you quick to write your name inside? How did it fall away from you?

Was it a gift from a lover With a certain verse in mind? Or was it fuel to feed a fire? To untwist words from a tongue so tied

This band from Leicester, England, brings us a mystery in pure Pop Punk form. To whom does this mysterious name belongs? And why and from where did this object came? Take a listen, and make a guess:

"The song is about an old book of poems that our lead singer James Deacon was gifted and decided to write a song about Lesley Matthews, the name written inside the book."

Smoking Alaska – Days With No End

Nothing to do but dust off all the memories Searching for clues to balance out the chemistry Playing it safe I don't wanna go back home To all my mistakes, growing tall while left alone

The days are getting longer and I wonder if I'm left behind It just keeps feeding time The distance is still growing it's not showing any end in sight It's still feeding time.

This band from Duiven, in the Netherlands, shows how Alt Rock can trace back time to an endless drive passing by all the warning signs:

"After ending a relationship I felt stranded and uneasy on what to do next. It's then when covid hit the Netherlands the hardest and strict lockdown policies began. The days after this felt long and blended together, each day feeling very similar to the next with a lot of time to dwell on the past. That's essentially how the song 'Days With No End' started."

DRAG – Let's Make Out

We’re bare to the bone in the moonlight But skeletons don’t fear the night A river of passion’s between us We’re just waiting for a raft so we can cross

Your whispered words are hard to hear But they feel great against my ear Your lips are softer than snow And we just melt into the pillows

From Bristol, England, comes a Synth Pop track with all the right 80s vibe that could easily be featured in a John Hughes film:

"It was actually inspired by meeting a new person and the first nights being intimate. It’s meant to be a really tender song and I hope it comes across that way :)"

Vigilantes – Tigerwall

If these walls could talk they'd say she's strange, He dropped a drink she spilled her change, He found the version of himself he liked, Now it's diffused in the flaccid light,

Oh Tigerwall, What's in your thoughts, What's in a kiss that won't repeat?

Last stop, Lincoln, England, for a Indie Rock song that can transport you with its intimate lyrics to those late nights drives with friends just looking for fun:

"Memories of a car park in the late evening and driving a friend’s car for the first time inspired it ❤️

Also it’s just inspired by that whole dusk in the winter vibe and being inside the bars we spent a lot of time in."

#MusicMonday 2022

We say goodbye to 2022 with this year's compilation. 99 titles from original artists covering plenty of different genres, all representing the multiple trends independent artists are proud to establish. Have a listen:

Stay up to date in 2023 with the complete Playlist

@osornios

[1986eddiem]

NSFW Alphabet - Eddie Munson

Credit to whoever created the NSFW alphabet! Not sure who to credit, but here's my take on it! Warnings: Smut, and lots of it. Mentions of kinks, oral, sex, and drug use. Fem!reader. Rated: m (18+ only! Minors DNI)  Both participants in this are over the age of 18!  Listen while you read (these don't exactly pertain to the writing but here’s some good songs to keep you company): "Have You Ever Seen the Rain - Creedence Clearwater Revival", "I Melt with You - Modern English" Credit to the gif owner!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): honestly, eddie is into some pretty tame stuff in my opinion. i mean, you're both still young and exploring what you like and dislike, so a lot of the time you spend with eddie while you're having sex is exploring these things, so i think eddie is still learning appropriate aftercare. he'll run you a hot bath, give you cuddles until the sun came up, and remind you to go pee every single time. he'd offer to go buy you ice cream, or take a nice long drive just to bask in the after sex feeling. anything you needed, he was there for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): eddie was a little insecure when it came to his body, hell he’s never really had someone appreciate him this much before, but once he started dating you and you became obsessed with his hands, they kinda became his favorite body part on himself too. i mean, he loved playing guitar and you can't play guitar without your hands, plus, he loved how his hands looked gripping your thighs and fingering you until you were a whining mess. when it came to you, he was a thigh man through and through. he pretty much wanted your thighs wrapped around him in any way. in bed cuddling, draped over his lap while he practiced playing guitar, wrapped around his head while he went down on you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): honestly, you and eddie were pretty damn good at practicing safe sex. you guys weren't ready to have kids, so he'd wrap it up. better safe than sorry. but, the first time you let him cum inside you though, oh boy, eddie couldn't contain himself. he practically lasted 30 seconds. but don't worry, he made up for it with his head between your legs afterwards.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): this boy loves fingering you while he has his rings on. on my god, seeing his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, his rings glistening with the reminders of you, it drove him crazy. afterwards, he’s give you his smallest ring to wear, just as a reminder of him and the things he would do to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): i don't think eddie is this big sex god, but he's not a virgin either. he's been around here and there, but he's never experienced a serious relationship until you. most girls only wanted a quick fuck, but eddie wanted to get to know you. really discover what worked for you both. he was to attentive to learn your needs, the ins and outs of your body, what exactly got you off, it was almost like he was learning sex all over again.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): missionary!!!!! this man is a big SOFTY OK and just wants to hold you closes. he wants to feel your legs wrapped around him, he wanted to hold your face and press soft kisses all over. plus, this position gave him some room to rub your clit too, which is always a bonus. don't get me wrong though, he also loved bending you over.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): eddie is the biggest goofball ever. i mean, look at him. when it comes to sex, why would he be so serious? when it came to making you feel good and safe, yeah that's when he was serious. but if you guys were making out and accidentally banged your heads together or fumbled, you were in a fit of giggles soon after. after all, sex to eddie didn't have to be all that serious, it was just supposed to make you feel good and that was his priority!!!! so a little laughs here and there never hurt.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): i don't think eddie grooms very much but he definitely would if you wanted him to. he’s kinda indifferent about it, i mean cmon it was the 80s lol.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): where eddie is goofy, he is also the sweetest guy ever. i mean, missionary is his favorite position, he just wants to spoil you. the first time you guys had sex, he spread out rose petals and candles all across his room, and even made his bed. so yeah, he's the biggest romantic ever when it came to you and only you. he'd never tell his friends that though.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): before you, eddie used to jerk off all the time. what else was he going to do? but when you finally came into the picture, he didn’t have time to even think about jerking off. he spent all his time with you honestly. touching you, loving you, fucking you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): FACE SITTING!!!!!!!!! on my god this boy could get off on you sitting on his face alone. the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head, the feeling of you totally in control nearly has him weak at the knees. hell, he’s probably ask you to sit on his face in the back of his van everyday after school if he could. oh, and high sex obviously.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): his bed. the trailer. it's where you guys had the most privacy and he could really take his time with you. plus, he wanted you to feel safe in a place that was familiar to you, so his bedroom was a no brainer. maybe even the couch when you had the trailer to yourselves.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): seeing you in just his Hellfire t-shirt oh man. as soon as he sees you in that t-shirt, bare underneath, it takes everything in him not to tear that shirt right off and go to town. his favorite thing was when you would wear that t-shirt and he’d just lift it up and shove his head between your legs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): anything that could inflict serious pain to you, or any intense degrading. eddie was a softy and never wanted to hurt you. sure, he'd probably try anything once, maybe twice, but he couldnt get behind hurting you or making you feel bad in any way. he wouldn’t really want to call you any mean names either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): A GIVER THROUGH AND THROUGH AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. this boy loves pleasuring you ok and will spend hours between your legs, just giving you orgasm after orgasm. he'd eat you out in his bed, on the couch, in his van, before and after Hellfire, any time and anywhere. don't get me wrong, he loves a good blow job, but nah, eddie is the biggest giver ever and he’d only except a blowjob if he knew he could immediately return the favor. his friends may have called him crazy for eating pussy, but he didn't care.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): i definitely think eddie can be rough when he wants to be, but he's definitely a sensual guy at heart. really, he'll do anything if he knows it'll get you off and make you satisfied. you're in the mood for rough? he's bending you over the side of his bed and giving it to you just how you want. you want soft and sensual, he's got you wrapped in his arms, taking all the time in the world with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): eddie doesn't like quickies. he wants ever moment to be able to take his time with you. he didn't want to have sex if he knew he wouldn't be able to get you off in the process. his definition of a quickie was sex 30 minutes before Hellfire, but 25 of those minutes were spent going down on you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): again, i think eddie is down to try whatever you want, but i also don't think he'd want to try anything too crazy. again, he'd try anything once, even twice if you enjoyed it, but he liked to keep things pretty tame.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): eddie can go a couple rounds, for sure, but really he’ll go for however long he needs to to make sure you’re satisfied. plus, he’s got fingers and a mouth and that boy is definitely not afraid to use them. T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): eddie had never used toys before dating you, and honestly, never even considered the idea of buying them. but at the beginning of your relationship, eddie wanted to try everything and anything to make you feel good, so he bought you this really plain vibrator to use during sex. sure, you tried it a few times, but eddie's favorite way to get you off was with what god gave him, his fingers and mouth.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): eddie was a huge tease, oh my god, he'd have you practically begging to be fucked right before he had to leave for Hellfire. you'd hate him for it every time, but as soon as he got back, he'd make it up to you by giving you the best sex of your life.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): eddie was a little shy at first, honestly. he wasn’t sure if you’d want him to make noise. but once he got comfortable and realized no one could hear you in the trailer, he sure wasn’t shy about letting you know how good you were making him feel. oh, and he obviously encouraged you to do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): one night, you were on your period and having the worst cramps ever. eddie had read somewhere that period sex, orgasms, helped with cramps. well, like i said, he’s willing to try anything at least once, and he wanted his girl to feel comfortable and taken care of, so he suggested it. you were a little hesitant at first, but once eddie’s fingers dipped into your waistband, all of your worries faded away. so yeah, he’s not scared of a little blood. it’s pretty metal honestly, and you’re still just as beautiful and sexy to him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): eddie is perfect in all the right places ok. he’s soft and smooth and warm and welcoming, and he’s sure packing down there. but, you two were a match made in heaven so he was just the right size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): eddie definitely has a high sex drive, but he’s also super respectful about it and would never pressure you. that being said though, he’s down whenever and wherever. if you’re in the mood, lord knows he’s dropping everything to cater to your every need. but he also loves just movie nights and cuddling in the trailer.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): i feel like eddie is a talker. he gets this huge boost of adrenaline after sex and just wants to talk to you for hours but anything and everything. even as you were slowly dozing off in his bed, he couldn't stop talking about you. he also loved talking about sex, what you liked, what you want to do next time, how he can improve. because like i said, your pleasure becomes before anything to eddie. once he knew you were taken care of, satisfied and comfortable, he'd fall asleep holding you.

-

thank you so much for taking the time to read! just remember, these are only my opinions so please be kind 🤍

[izuzaca]

best friend and bf headcanons for sal fisher

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k 

note: this is gender neural! i have recently got back into my sally face phase again and i desperately needed to write this and it just happened to be my first post :p enjoy my self-indulgence 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

as best friends:

he spends most of his time with his group of friends 

he ghost hunts and looks for different places around town that could be potential spots for paranormal that he always tells you about

“no i’m telling you the place by the skatepark is packed with ghosts. you have to believe me it gives me the chills”

if he’s out with multiple friends, he makes sure you’re always the one standing next to him out of the group

but that’s because he always has something funny to whisper into your ear as everyone is telling stories

and because you usually quip back which makes him snort 

he also enjoys hanging out with you alone where you either both play video games, have a music session, or just talking about school and other personal thoughts

he is a good listener and wants to hear everything you have to say no matter how little he understands it

there is always a response tho since he actively listens 

whether it be a joke or a comment about whatever you’re saying, he doesn’t leave a blank space when you speak because there is always something to talk about with you

unless it’s for emphasize then he’s just messing around

he definitely asks you for your thoughts on new music pieces 

like will call you at 4 in the morning to tell you he wrote something “worth your attention”

“sal, its 4 in tHE MORNING why are you calling me” 

“well i finished this part on my guitar and i wanted to show you so i need you to come over…please” and he’s very awake and ready to blow your mind as he makes you walk the block to his house

“if this does not rock my socks off, you’re dead meat, sal fisher”

but that also means he goes on midnight runs for you since you come over to hear him play

if you want a soda or obscure candy you haven’t had in years from the gas station all of a sudden at 2 am, you know he’s walking out the door to go grab them for you

he does complain at first tho but he’ll go 

“it’s like a block away you go get it yourself” he says as he’s putting on shoes

“sal pleaseeeeee”

“no i know you’re doing those eyes at me over the phone…i’ll be there in 5” 

but he’s happy to help you and make you happy any way that he can

dating:

dating sal wouldn’t be much different, except you’re usually together more often and there is more affection

he actually gets more sarcastic with you because he likes seeing you huff and tease back 

group hang outs aren’t weird either with you both dating since todd and neil take up most of the pda attention

sal doesn’t give me huge pda vibes but he definitely doesn’t mind you sitting in his lap while watching movies, laying his head in your lap, or putting his arm around your shoulders when talking to everyone

it’s hard to tell, but if you were to kiss his hand while it was draped around you or start playing with his hair while his head is in your lap, he would lose his composure for a split second and be lost in his thoughts for a good minute

mainly because he’s not use to so much loving affection and the way your fingers feel on his head makes him feel dizzy

instead of him doing your late night runs, you both do them together when neither of you can sleep

restless nights call for random gas station food and slurpees

OH also sal suggested one day while you were grabbing some chips in the aisle that you both should get one red and one blue slurpee

the motive clicked and he was melting inside because you both were newly dating and he didn’t want to weird you out

but you agreed with a slight smirk and you went back home with a purple tongue

he definitely asks to do that every time on your regularly scheduled sleepovers

“i think i want the blue one tonight”

you roll your eyes and grab a cup, “you’re about to taste both of them so does it really matter?”

“have some class in this below average 7-11 please and thank you” and you both laugh a sleep-deprived laugh

now leading to his mask: he became comfortable taking his mask off around you when you were best friends first and then has trusted you ever since

he was beyond worried about showing you and you leaving, and he still is to be honest, but he knows that you love him just as much as he loves you

he still keeps it on most of the time because he’s comfortable in it, but doesn’t mind leaving it off when it’s just you two in the shared house

your first kiss is something he likes to think about a lot because it wasn’t how he imagined it before dating

he imagined driving to the lake at night to look at the stars and leaning over to kiss you then (which he did end up doing afterwards)

but what actually happened was you came over alone to play a new game he just bought for you both

he was nervous the entire time because you were in his lap messing with his ring clad hands and making commentary about the game the whole time 

he got really hot from being so close and decided to take his mask off with you still there and you turned to look behind you and there was a moment where your sentence didn’t finish and you both just looked at each other

and then his hand was on your face pulling you in as his lips lingered on yours softly 

his heart was beating so fast and heavy in his chest that he was worried you could feel it but he forgot about that when you pulled him in closer to deepen it. he thought about that kiss nonstop for days after that

sal is a starer. point blank he loves to look at you when you’re not watching and just admire your features

ok so this one is controversial, but i don’t think sal gets that jealous

he definitely does get jealous but not over people like larry or ash or any of your friends because he trusts them just like you

if anything, he would get jealous at random people at house parties trying to come on to you in front of him

that’s when he gets slightly possessive and doesn’t mind pda

he wouldn’t take off his mask and make out with you right there 

but if he’s feeling confident he has his hand splayed out on your upper thigh while he’s glaring daggers at the person trying to flirt with you

if he’s not really into it, he’ll take you to another part of the house or outside to lose the person

because of his job hunting ghosts, he doesn’t always want to take you especially after you start dating because he wants to protect you

and usually you end up going to protect him too 

dates for sal normally come spontaneously

you’re studying for a quiz and then suddenly he’s calling you saying to get dressed for a date

it’s usually something small too like a picnic or a trip to the lake “because the moon looks incredible tonight” but it’s his way of showing you how much he loves you

he likes to be with you when you work on projects or when you’re studying because then he can study you and watch you work

he can keep to himself most of the time and is a great encourager when it comes to school or if you’re stressed

“sal, if i have to write another paragraph i’m going to combust” you said stretching from hours of poor posture

“you’re almost done and when you’re done, you can lay on me and we’ll watch a movie. Or sleep” 

he likes to kiss your temple when you’re working so not to distract you but letting you know he’s there for you

something he hasn’t told you is that he has been taking art lessons from ash to try and draw people so that he can draw you and capture how he sees you in the moment

they are all rough sketches and he wants to show you when he is happy with one 

he is always the one to show you new music that he likes and gets really excited to have you listen

he connects through music and sharing it together is his love language on its own

there is nothing he can’t talk to you about and you are almost always the first person to know about everything 

new gadgets him and Todd are making? he’ll come in explaining the process and what each one does

or even the smallest things like how the grocery store is out of his favorite chips

overall 10/10 ghost hunting best friend and boyfriend who loves you very much <3

[prettyboykatsuki]

♡  bakugou headcanons that feel like a warm hug ♡

➳wc ;; 1.2k (oh my god. what is wrong w me.) 

➳ a/n ;; or my bakugou brain-rot that never goes away. thanks for being my comfort character, you fucking gremlin. forgive the silly title. 

♡ always makes little adjustments to the environment for you. he’s observant to a fault so if there’s something even a little off and it happens to bother you, he’s trying to work around it. 

♡ good at playing guitar but not good at reading music. he can throw something together if you give him a chance but he’s not good at trying to recreate someone elses memory. he’s not like.. musically gifted either but he likes how guitar sounds 

♡ thinks about getting a lot of piercings in his ear because he thinks they’d look cool but is kind of too nervous? the idea of a needle going through his skin is a ick. when you start dating, he drags you to his appointments lol - won’t admit it but he thinks he looks so hot when he gets them. takes a bunch of selfies <3 

♡ needs to be moving constantly. can’t sit completely still to save his life. when he listens to music, he moves his head. sometimes he just runs his thumb over his fingers. 

♡ really, really bad at talking. not in the sense he can’t communicate (that too) but he just likes listening in conversation. rarely adds his own thing. but when he does - always accidentally says something super meaningful 

♡ enjoys subtle physical touch because it is literally intimate he melts inside. a hand on his forearm or shoulder. your legs over his lap. small things that show how comfortable you are. 

♡ likes being held cause he’s a big ass baby lmfao 

♡ wont admit it but enjoy when you choose pretty or colorful bandages for his cuts he won’t himself but it’s like keeping you in his pocket wherever he goes.  

♡ really needs you to find him attractive dslksjk it’s not that he ever thinks he’s particularly ugly. but he didn’t really assign importance to his appearance at any point in his life, yet now he puts in a scary amount of effort. readjusts his hair so much more, makes sure his clothes fit good. fixes his fuckin’ face lol 

♡ likes chewing gum a lot and always has a pack on him. really proud of how big he can blow bubbles and will be a little sad if you’re unimpressed. 

♡ is overly sentimental about things you’ve made him - especially if it’s something super dumb. you drew him a silly little sketch of him in a frog hat? it’s in his wallet behind his id. freaks out when he thinks he’s lost his wallet 

♡ LOVES phone calls. yes he still hates talking. but the way his face looks when he listens to your voice. eyes half-lidded, shamelessly smiling - it’s so tender and so lovesick. 

♡ terrible first grader hand-writing. he tries to write them for you in the beginning of your relationship (to be romantic or some shit) but they’re so incomprehensible pls. if he focuses on it - it can be legible but most of the time ... yea no. 

♡ doesn’t favor tea or coffee but prefers tea if he has to drink one. 

♡ crazy good at eyeballing measurement. even in baking. once made a perfectly good bread without weighing anything and doesn’t get why that’s so wild. 

♡ has the phone on his text set to be bigger even though his eyes are fine. 

♡ lets you do the layout thing on his iphone and decorate as you please. says he doesn’t care but when he sees you made it hero themed/fit with his aesthetic - he got so red it was so cute. 

♡ hates shopping in store. will still always go with you because the one time you went alone a store clerk hit on you.  

♡ so practical. he started couponing when he was in his early twenties like an old man. checks the news and weather the night before, every night. never misses doctors appointments. 

♡ shit at any form of visual art. drawing, painting etc - cannot do it to save his life. but he tries. his hands shake when he tries to draw hearts for you 

♡ blows the eyelashes off your cheek super gently whenever he notices. he’ll like.. take your face in his hands and blow so softly like he’s gonna hurt you. 

♡ used to agree to make pinky promises with you as a joke. now though? automatically holds his pink out for you to take it. straight up pouts if you don’t. 

♡ you two have a song and when it comes on, he’ll sing it back to you. any other time? any other song? he wont. but he always sings your song even without realizing, just mouths it. 

♡ enjoys when you put your hands under his shirt and just leave them there and hug him like that. skin to skin contact is elite but only from you. 

♡ hamsters adore this man. they just do. 

♡ draws frowny faces on your eggs with hot-sauce 

♡ soul leaves his body when you play with his hair and scratch his scalp. the tension in his neck literally disappears and he just sighs that shit relaxes him like crazy 

♡ the first time he says i love you, you’re tying his tie for his first hero event. you’re telling him to that the color looks good on him and you’re smiling. it honestly it just slips. he went on to win an award that night. 

♡ his favorite memory of the two of you was when you were trying to leave the grocery store one afternoon. it was raining heavy as shit. you pulled him in under your clear umbrella and just stood there. he doesn’t know why but that means a lot to him. 

♡ cares a lot about his dads approval on his work specifically. him and his dad have a really specifc bond and he actually admires him quite a bit. 

♡ nothing makes him cry like “im proud of you”. especially when it’s for something small. it’s just something he didn’t hear enough in a sincere way. 

♡ likes fruit flavored sweets over chocolate (generally needs something to do w his mouth cause it helps him think. bad oral fixation) so he keeps little candies on him 

♡ shit at video games. terrible at them with the exception of mario kart? for some reason. 

♡ always loses his keys 

♡ stutters every!single!time! he tries to compliment you. it’s been YEARS. 

♡ takes a melatonin gummy before bed and always drinks a glass of water 

♡ buys you flowers and keeps them too. like does the upkeep on it and replaces them if the wilt. suggests pressing them to keep them for longer. 

♡ lowkey cries really easily. he just gets overwhelmed w his feelings some times and it makes him cry even if he doesn’t want too. you and the bakusquad are sworn to secrecy over it though 

♡ wears his ring around his neck on a chain bc it’s easier to show off. 

♡ naturally good at doing hair! 

♡ likes sneakers but wears dr. scholl's because he walks a lot and is on his feet for most of the day w his job. just being careful. 

♡ loves u a lot <3 

[majesticarlette]

The Truth

Note: aaa it took a while, I hope you like it. Let me know if this needs a part two. I enjoyed writing it.

Luka Couffaine x Reader | ONE SHOT

"You have a date, lover boy?" You said while finishing tuning your guitar to standard as Luka's contacting Marinette, he turned to you and smiled. "Yeah, we're going to the movies today, we missed our date yesterday." "Say hi to Macaroon from me." You placed your guitar inside its case and picked it up. "It's Marinette and I will." He said and hugged you. "I know, it's her pet name from me." You patted his back and broke away from the embrace. "I'll see you next time." You started walking and left Liberty to go home.

It's hard for you to let Luka and Marinette's relationship sink in, since you didn't got the chance to confess your feelings for him. Being honest with your feelings isn't your forte, so someone beat you to it. Your heart can't take it whenever the two of them are being intimate to each other, lucky for you you're good at hiding what you really feel and it's like winning at Poker yet losing at love.

Even though it hurts you, you can't bring to find yourself avoiding them. They're both really precious friends of yours and you don't want to taint that, and you don't want to explain why you're avoiding them once they notice. Lying about it is a solution, but lies pile up like dirty dishes and will be hard to clean when it's really stained. So, you believed yourself that you'll get over it soon, but you didn't.

You're headed to Pont des Arts to take pictures for your personal collage when you saw Luka eating an ice cream while leaning on the railings. You approached him and tapped his shoulder. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He looked at you. "Marinette and I were out on a date, she said she's going to get napkins but she's still not here yet and the ice cream started melting." You also leaned on the railings next to Luka. "Maybe something came up? Which got her mind off from getting the napkins? You know Marinette, she's easily distracted." You chuckled. "She'll get here soon." You added.

"What about you? I'm sure you're in the middle of doing something." He reminded you, and you noticed his ice cream is melting and got a handkerchief from your pocket and handed it to him. "No, it's okay. I'll just eat it quickly." He refused to accept it but you insisted. "Oh really? On that side, it's gonna drip on your hands." You pointed his ice cream cone and he quickly resolved it. "And it's sticky once it dries, so accept it." You wiped the other melted ice cream drips and gave the handkerchief to him. "Wash it clean, okay?" "I will. Thanks, (Y/n)." "Oh, and answering your question, I'm currently out for picture taking." You held up your camera and fakes a click. "It's for my photo collage and my wall." You added.

"Wanna take a picture together?"

"Sure."

"Hey, you all ready?" Rose asked and looked at us. "Yes, whenever you're ready!" you said enthusiastically, ready to play the bass but Luka spoke on the mic. "I want to dedicate this song to Marinette, the girl... Who's not here as usual." You looked at him sadly but you came back to your senses when Ivan counts in. A girl then suddenly runs in and sat, it was Marinette. You smiled at her and she waves at Luka and you.

When the song was finished, you quickly approached Luka and talked to him. "Are you alright?" He didn't respond, he was frowning. You didn't know what to do to lift his spirits up a little. You were thinking of something to find a way to assure Luka when you noticed Adrien and Kagami. They were talking about how they got here from disappearing from their strict schedule, then it hit you. "You know, everything happens for a reason." Luka looked at you, he just finished packing up things. "After the conversations we've had about the two of you. We're both convinced that there's something going on with Marinette. How about you ask her where she goes when she disappears and then you'll know the truth. That way, whenever she goes somewhere you're assured." You continued and smiled at him. He nodded and went to talk to Marinette.

You stared at the two of them for a minute then you focused back on what you were doing. 'Darn, I'm the one hurting myself.'

"Bye, guys! I'll see ya, I'll go home with them." You picked up the guitar case and went near Alya. "Bye, guys, see ya!" Alya said when suddenly a light was shone on her. Her lips turned white and a person who seems to be a villain appears, you noticed the guitar pick 'Luka?'. The villain asked Alya to reveal Marinette's secret. "She's in love with Adrien Agreste." Her answer annoye the him. Still seeking for an answer which will satisfy his mind; he approached Rose to get her but was defended by Juleka and still uttered the same answer. Ladybug stepped in to rescue us but she was caught by him. You were ready to get in the way but Chat Noir saved her and jumped into the water. Much to the villain's annoyance, Anarka suddenly stepped out from the cabin and was spotted by the light which made her utter the awaited answer of Luka's question. "Luka, your father is Jagged Stone." You gasped and he repeated it one more time and still got the same answer.

After he left, you checked each of your friends if they were alright. Alya, Juleka and Ms. Anarka's lips were still white. 'What happened? How did he get akumatized? Did Mari not tell him?' Everyone stayed in the ship for safety as they figure out how to erase the lip color. "It's magic, so we can't really get it out." "But girl, I don't look good with white lips." You giggled from Alya's response. "I think Ladybug and her Lucky Charm will help us." "She always do." She smiled, your conversation was interrupted when Nino talked to her. Knowing Alya's fine you then spoke to Ms. Anarka to check if she was okay. She was stunned by the sudden confrontation earlier. "I'm sure he's not angry." You assured her and gave her a warm hug.

It was morning, and Luka's finally de-akumatized when Ladybug's Lucky Charm fixed the mess he made. Everyone agreed to go home but you still waited at the ship for Luka along with Juleka. "So... are you gonna confess or something?" Juleka suddenly uttered. "What? Where did that come from?" You giggled. "No, You and Luka are my bestest friends. I'm not going to confess. I'm just worried about him like you." You cleared up. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think so. I've been with you two for our whole lives, don't think I don't notice what's going on. Many might have a hard time reading you but I'm not like them." You're surprised by how chatty Juleka is right now. What is there to lie about now? You sighed and confessed. "Okay, you're right. I have feelings for him, did you think he noticed?" You panicked, realizing that Juleka picked up about your feelings for Luka, you got nervous whether he noticed it too. 'Am I not great at hiding my feelings like what I believed? Am I just like Marinette when she's near Adrien?' thoughts circulated your mind and you came back to your senses when Juleka spoke. "I don't think so." She touched your shoulder and went inside the cabin. 'Yeah, maybe I was just thinking it.' You noticed someone coming near and it was Luka, you waved at him and he smiles back. When he finally got into the ship, you asked him what happened. "Marinette can't tell me the truth." "I'm sorry." That was the only thing you could say, you want to stay and let him talk about his issues but you can't. It was already morning, your parents must be worried sick, so your first priority is to go home and let your parents know you're okay. You hugged and bid him goodbye and left the ship. You'll visit Liberty next time.

"Are you going to tell him yet?" Rose excitedly tells to your face. You just entered Liberty and confrontation was already setting it's place. "Yeah, girl, when are you going to tell him?" Alya also spoke.

"Yes! At first I didn't think there was something going on."

"Yeah."

The girls were surrounding you, you were confused. "Tell what to whom?"

"Your feelings with Luka! Silly."

"Woah, woah, woah, hold on, where is this coming from?" You held up your hands to calm down the situation. "Well, the other day we were talking about Luka and Marinette and after some more talking, you came to the picture and Juleka confirmed. She thought we were all aware but we were totally not." Alya answered. "Okay, first of all, that was unexpected and I'm not going to confess." They didn't expect your answer. "Why?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well, I think I know what will be Luka's answer. Come on, he's totally head over heels for Marinette." You answered. "Look, he may like Marinette but what's the harm in confessing? Maybe the answer's not what you were expecting." Alya said and the girls agreed. "Come on, be a bit possessive." She added and the girls also agreed. 'Maybe I should do it, I didn't get to confess on my first decision to do it. Alright, I'm gonna do it, but Luka was just of his relationship weeks ago I don't think it's the best time. But when's the best time?' After debating with yourself for a while, you agreed. The girls cheer and root for you. "But how am I gonna do it?" You asked.

"Do what?"

Luka also entered the ship, back from Paris Careers Expo. Your eyes widened and turned to him. "I- uhh... We were thinking about uhm..." Luka looks at you. "W-we were talking about.." you collect your thoughts on what to say. "Writing music! Yeah! I wasn't sure on how to do it. Can you help me?" You asked, internally face palming. "Sure, when?" He asked, you looked at the girls and they signal you to go on. "Maybe now? Will you go out with me?" You suddenly uttered. "I-I mean for ice cream! To talk about it." You jumbled your words but still managed to say what you want. You could hear the girls let out a faint squeal. 'Darn, I'm not usually like this.'

"Ready when you are, (Y/n)." Luka said. "Right, let's go." You waved the girls goodbye and left the ship. "She's like Marinette with Adrien earlier, didn't expect that." Alix spoke. "At least (Y/n) got Luka to have ice cream with her." Alya responded. "Touché."

"Do you have an idea on what you're going to write?" Luka asked you, you were both at Canal Saint-Martin eating ice cream from Andre. It took you a while to answer. "I do, it's about encouragement on expressing what you feel, but I don't really know what to start." You said, somehow mixing in what your feeling right now. "Hey, don't rush about it, there's no deadline. To come up with something that's genuine and comes from what you truly feel, you need time to figure it out." He replied. "But, I have been thinking about it for a long time, yet I still don't have any progress." 'With you.' You thought the last 2 words. "It's alright, ease your mind and think about what you want to do. Collect your thoughts and calm down, be with what you'll write then you'll have something." He respond, you're deep in thought while looking at the reflection of both of you in the water. "(Y/n), your ice cream's melting. Here." He took out your handkerchief from his pocket. "Hey, you cleaned it!" You chuckled and took it from him and wiped the cone. "Yeah, I did." He stared at you with concern. "I've never seen you so troubled, (Y/n)." You looked at him, he was already looking at you.

You gave in, don't want to pretend that it's about music anymore. "The truth is, I-I..." He's staring at you, hoping for an answer and you're giving it to him. "I like you, Luka. For a long time." You finally said it, you looked at the ground avoiding his gaze while waiting for his reply. He made you look at him, "Hey, I appreciate what you feel about me, but I'm sorry I can't reciprocate your feelings. I'm still sorting out what happened between me and Marinette." He looked sad, it seems like something happened. "It would be unfair to you if I went out with you while I'm still thinking about her." He added, you can't help but feel emotional from what was happening. "Based on what you said, I still have a chance, right?" You sniffled and he took the handkerchief from your hand to wipe your forming tears. He genuinely smiled at you and that answered your question. "I will still like you no matter what, I'm not giving you up!" You declared confidently, Luka chuckled. "What's funny?" you said trying to stop your cries. "You look adorable." he cupped both of your cheeks "Hey! stop that." You laughed in between your sobs and he hugged you. "Stop hugging me, my nose is runny." You resisted his embrace but he still didn't budge.

You were running, headed to Place des Vosges. You were with Luka strolling around Paris when Juleka called you, she's at the park along with the girls. They want to know what happened between the two of you. You told Luka about them and excuse yourself. "I'll see you next time." You smiled at him, about to leave when he held your hand to stop you. You looked at him, "What is it?" He's just staring at you and then kissed your cheek. "Bye, (Y/n), I'll see you next time." "Hey! don't get my hopes up." You joked and you both chuckled.

You arrived, you spotted Marinette is with them and approached them. "Hi, (Y/n)!" Marinette said. "So, how did it go?" Mylène asked and the other girls focused their attention on you. "I got rejected." You smiled and they hugged you to comfort. "Did you tell Marinette?" You asked. "Yeah, we did." Alya responded. "I didn't know you have feelings for Luka." Marinette spoke. "Well, I did. Are you mad?" You replied staring at her. "Why would I?" She chuckled, "I'm glad you confessed." She added. "She'll only get mad if you like Adrien." Alya joins and all of you laughed and started talking about other topics.

[bmodiwrites]

58 & 87 for Steddie!

Nonnie, this is a good one. I think I've got an idea that I'm pretty psyched for! #58 is accidental eavesdropping & #87 is aroused by his voice. Like most of my work, it's gonna get explicit, so keep that in mind. Here we go -

Steve is on his last leg of his drop off rounds when he hears it - the smooth, sultry voice that makes his insides melt. He's confused for a second, because the trailer park is usually eerily quiet when Max gets out of the car and he waits for her to get inside. Those moments are slightly haunting, even. Tonight, however, Steve's drawn to the soft notes he can hear from his open windows. When Max looks back over her shoulder to wave at him, Steve returns the gesture distractedly. He usually backs up and starts the trek home at this point, but Steve's stuck, instead. Most especially at the moment he realizes where the sound is coming from.

He spots Eddie Munson in his rearview mirror. It's the middle of the summer, so it's not all that odd that his window is open. It's probably not even weird of him to be sitting on the bed by it, playing his guitar like Steve knows he does. What's weird is the strange jolt Steve feels in his core - there's heat simmering there, sure, but the surge is something else. Whatever it may be, Steve is transfixed and absolutely glued to the spot. So, he cuts his the cars power to stop Max from investigating his further presence there, and leans back into his seat. All around him is quiet - except for Eddie's voice.

Steve's certain that Eddie wouldn't be singing so vulnerably if he knew of his slightly creepy audience. He knows the guy enough now to understand that the bigness of his personality is primarily a mechanism to hide behind. There are moments when Steve learns something new and soft about Eddie and it always confuses him. He's used to the dungeon master, the metal head, the hard ass. Evidence of anything else causes that same surge in Steve's stomach that he's afraid to put a name to. It's true, Steve has a type - complex brunettes with big eyes are his weakness. It just wasn't until Eddie Munson swept into his life that Steve thought to include boys with that same look on the list, too. He's had enough time to be fine with it. Even Robin is privy to his delightful new discovery. Eddie, however, is not.

Despite the rational part of his brain telling him to back out and drive home, Steve slumps down in the drive's seat, content to listen to the runs Eddie makes with his voice as he works through a part of the music on his guitar. The scales are sporadic yet sure, like Eddie's trying to nail down a sequence for a song, or something. He plays and hums and goes quiet in a rhythmic nature, calm and steady like Steve's come to understand of the softer, more approachable side of Eddie Munson.

Sure he's heard the most of it, Steve's seconds away from turning his car back on when Eddie starts to really sing. Now there's lyrics and verses that are still earlier in their writing stage, yet good all the same. Steve is struck by how gravely Eddie's voice is, how it carries on the summer breeze of the evening. He's not all that sure why, but his skin is prickling and itchy, like it usually gets before arousal starts to set in.

It's funny, realizing the raw words of Eddie's mediocre song are driving him wild. It should be embarrassing, too, being turned on in his car outside of Max's house, eavesdropping on a friend that's still so new to the group that he's not used to how up in each other's business they all are. That's no excuse, of course, doing what he's doing, but Steve doesn't always think straight and he's certainly not now. Definitely not when he presses down against the bulge threatening to tear his jeans apart at the seams.

There are boundaries and Steve realizes that, so he forces himself to breath deep and calm the fuck down. Touching himself outside of Max's house is hard limit. Though, he wouldn't be opposed to making some noise in Eddie's trailer. At that point, he figures the boundary is already crossed. It's wishful thinking, but he goes there nonetheless.

By the time he's better able to handle his shit, Eddie's no longer at the window. Figuring it's the best possible time to get the fuck out of there, Steve does his best to retreat as normal as possible. He keeps his headlights off until he's far enough down the road that they don't blast into people's homes. His foot is like lead on the pedal, getting him home much faster than usual. The usual lallygagging time was better spent eavesdropping outside of Eddie's window.

After parking his car and making a hasty move through the house, Steve's barely behind his closed door before he's got his pants open and his hand fisted around his cock. Slamming his eyes shut, Steve draws up the memory of Eddie's tone, imagines him using it to whisper things in Steve's ear as he's brought to the edge within a few strokes. The desire to have Eddie simply say his name is burning him up from the inside out. He's harshly stroking himself to orgasm within minutes, panting out his release with a loud groan he adamantly refuses to recognize as Eddie's name.

For just a second, Steve wants to feel shame wash over him - if he was a better person, he'd be wallowing in the guilt of using a friend so explicitly. It doesn't exist, though, and he's content in the fact that no one will ever know.

Except, that's not exactly the case. He sees Eddie the next day after Hellfire Club - the boys demanded they continue into the summer. Steve's taken to going inside to watch the tail end of Eddie's latest campaign because waiting in the car sucks and he refuses to feel like the taxi driver he actually is. The ending is epic as per usual and Steve is feeling good when the kids start to pack up. All of the boys are back together and it's a great thing to see. He's happy to have all of his kids in one place. So much so that he's distracted and doesn't see Eddie coming. Though, when he does, Steve recognizes the shit eating grin almost immediately.

Within seconds, Eddie is pressed up against him, his hand on the hip far away enough from the rest of the group to go unnoticed. His voice is low when he whispers against the shell of Steve's ear. "Don't sit in your car next time, Stevie. Just come in." There's a small nip that leaves Steve reeling - Eddie pulls back like nothing strange is happening. Steve'e only evidence that anything actually went down is the gleam in Eddie's eyes.

He sees that same look when he shows up on Eddie's doorstep later that night and is pulled inside.

Fanfic Mashup Prompts

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

MASTER

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: none really, more so self indulgent, this is my first time writing for Eddie so I hope I did him justice

Words: 2411

Summary: like many of you I was very upset at what they did to Eddie. So I'm changing the script to the fate he deserved

Thunder crackled through the Upside Down’s dark sky, streaks of red lightening broke through the dancing particles that filed the air.

Anxiety racked its claws against the inside of your stomach knowing that this could possibly be the place where you meet your maker. You’d thought about your own death before, but never imagined such a hell to be your final resting place. Truth be told, you wanted to run, desert your friends and climb back through the portal in Eddie’s trailer.

Fingers sweat profusely around the megaphone’s handle. You wouldn’t abandon them. Not when Dustin and Eddie wait behind you. Eddie’s beloved guitar had transcended realms and was idly being tuned. Your trio hadn’t received the signal to move onto Phase 3. Was Max okay? She must have been more terrified than anyone. The only one to escape Vecna’s grasp, undoubtedly the monster would not want to let her live. He wouldn't’ accept any survivors so Max offered herself up as bait. Truly for someone so young she was even braver than you. So you’d stand your ground alongside your fellow Hellfire members.

Your free hand, having been gripping the hem of your filthy DND shirt was coaxed free by a ringed one. Startled, you relax when you meet Eddie’s dark, sweet eyes regarding you with concern.

Gulping back the lump in your throat, you offer him a strained smile. “This place should be the cover of a metal band.”

“Maybe if we survive this it can be Corroded Coffin’s first album cover.” Eddie’s tone, always jovial, was tight with stress. Finished tuning his guitar, it was now strung on his back until further notice.

Greatly appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood, you were happy that even though you were up against the nightmare creatures of the Upside Down, at least you had Eddie. Sweet, goofy Eddie who always made you laugh. Someone who filled your equally dreary days living at the same trailer park with headbanging music and good times. Since his uncle often worked night shifts and your own parents fucked off to god knows where, you kept one another company. Watching movies way into the night and plenty of weed when you really wanted to party. The two of you would order pizza, consuming copious amounts of junk food all through the night.

And you may have been young, but you were pretty sure he was the goddamn love of your life. Every time he smiled made you melt. Feeling akin to being breathless even. 

“What song are you going to play?” You ask while still watching the crackling of the sky. 

“Oh, (y/n), you know me better than that. I like to surprise you.” Now his face brightened a little as did your own. Eddie’s surprises were the best.

“Well, Mr. Munson, I’m sure it will be your best concert yet.” Chuckling, you’re now able to turn your face away from above and to Eddie. “And I’m happy to be here as your biggest fan.”

Not many could make Eddie utterly speechless. He was always quick with snarky quips but not this time. His eyes widen and mouth goes slack before he shyly smiles, his inner softness gleaming. For a moment, silence lulls between you staring at each other. 

“You know how much I love you, right?”

Your face burned and a silly, adoration filled grin breaks out across your lips. Oh how he had your heart irrevocably. You wanted to kiss him. “I know.”

“Since the first day you moved in.” Eddie doesn’t glance away from you at this admission. 

“Really? My face was covered in zits. I couldn’t have been cute.” You chuckle, remembering the day vaguely. Had it really been that long ago?

“See, that’s where we disagree. I thought you were the most stunning creature in the entire world.” 

Okay, you were definitely going to kiss him now with the gloomy sky as an epic backdrop. You even stood closer to him, your hand on his chest as he looked down at you.

“Guys!” Dustin snaps you out of the moment, reality sneaking back to your senses. “They’re initiating Phase 3. We’re up!”

There was no time for kisses.

Taking a deep breath to move you forward, the three of you scramble on top of Eddie’s trailer where large speakers were affixed to the roof. 

Like the loyal fan you were, you lift your arm with the megaphone to introduce Eddie Fucking Munson Live from the Upside Down. Your voice shot through the forlorn trailer park with the help of the audio projector in your hand. The demobats were in for a treat as immediately after the first few bars to Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ came blasting from Eddie’s prized guitar.

You and Dustin stood back to let the true star take center stage. A dire situation it may have been, Dustin smiled and nodded his head forward in a small headbanging manner.

As much as you enjoyed the show he put on, you were silently praying that Nancy, Steve and Robin got to Vecna in time. There was no telling how many demobats there would be this time. What would you do if there were just too many crashing down on you all at once? You had seen what they did to Steve.

With his trailer fortified, you pondered if that would be enough to stop them. 

‘C’mon you guys. Now’s your chance to end this.’

You lean over to pick up your crudely made makeshift weapons and spiked shield.

In the distance, the red streaks offering up the silhouette of a thick cloud of hundreds of beating wings. They were coming and fast. You tried your best not to let panic freeze you completely. Like Eddie and Dustin, you wanted to be brave. None of you looked like heroes, that was too aspirational. Not with your worn out chucks or chipped, black nail polish.

But you would try your damn hardest to keep those demonic monstrosities distracted until Nancy or whoever destroyed Vecna.

Eddie continued to shred on his axe, fingers most likely bleeding from the intensity of the chords. If you survived, you would have to commend him for how quickly he mastered such a beast of a song. Two weeks since the release of it; that’s how long it had been and how long Eddie had been painstakingly practicing those brutal riffs. Slow in the beginning, you had watched in admiration as he diligently kept at it without giving up or being discouraged. 

Who knew it would be used for something like this with such an epic background.

Gauging their distance through his binoculars, Dustin loudly informs “We gotta lockdown in T-minus thirty seconds!”

Thirty seconds.

You gripped your spear and shield close to you now, legs prepared for action, If your weapons failed, you had one last thing waiting in your backpack for only when things went tits up on this plan. 

Eddie picked up speed as the count down came to twenty seconds, then ten seconds until those demon bats descended upon you. Ungodly screeches now assaulted your eardrums more than his guitar did.

When they appeared above, ready to descend, that’s when you, Eddie and Dustin hurried off the trailer’s roof and inside.

The three of you stare at the front door, anxiously awaiting for any attempt of infiltration. Soon loud bangs and the screech of sharp nails against metal rocked the trailer. Out of instinct you draw yourself closer to Eddie who puts a protective arm in front of you, the same way he did when he was forced to brake too hard in his van. Knowing it wouldn’t do much in an actual accident, but it was the thought that counted. He instinctively tried to protect you.

You involuntarily shudder as demobats threw themselves against the trailer. The window panes vibrate violently and you fear those would break in no time. 

It’s above you that should have concerned you more.From an open vent on the roof, a demobat comes crashing through. You and Dustin shriek, viciously stabbing at the creature with your spears until it moved no more. But now there was an opening that had to be barricaded quickly. Eddie moves the two of you aside since he was the tallest and could easily cover the vent using his garbage can lid shield.

Only a mere band-aid, you hear the demobats move along the vents to where Eddie’s room was located. You scramble over, catching sight of leathery wings before slamming his bedroom door shut. 

More time. They need more time but our’s is running out. 

Helplessly you gaze at young Dustin who was eyeing the rope that would save you, sending you back to your usual Hawkins. He’s prepared to bolt and you didn’t blame him. In fact you hoped he would climb up there. He was too young to be constantly facing death and too sweet. 

Forgetting about the importance of keeping the demobats distracted, Dustin indeed starts to worm his way up the rope made by bed sheets. There was no way you could stay in the trailer. Those demons would break in within minutes.

Your own hand grips the rope momentarily, staring up at the whole where Dustin was urging you to come up. 

“Hurry up (y/n)!” Eddie yells at you when he finds you paused. 

“Our mission isn’t done yet.” You whisper, it almost went unheard from the banging going on in the vents and at the windows. Turning to Eddie, your fear was gone. Dustin was safe at least. “Our mission isn’t done yet!”

His expression was frantic but he registers what you mean. 

“And before you even try to argue with me, I’m staying here to follow through.” 

 The lines on his face smooth over as he takes his place beside you, his knife already in hand. “No running?”

Neither of you were heroes. You felt it intensely when Eddie’s dark eyes widen with unrestrained fear. Even so, Eddie holds up his weapons, prepared to run out alongside you. 

“No running.”

Despite Dustin’s screams to stop, Eddie cuts the rope that would prevent your safe escape while you push the mattress you used as a soft landing away. Taking a quick breath, you and Eddie charge out of the trailer; shouldering your way out the front door before hopping onto his bike.  

You turn around slightly enough to watch the thick swarm realize you and Eddie were on the run. It hadn’t taken them long and they made fast work to catch up.

Putting enough distance between a safe Dustin and Vecna’s guard bats, both of you ditch Eddie’s bike; hoofing it to a small open field that the local kids sometimes used as a kickball area. Backs to each other and shields raised, your spears jutted out. You felt Eddie bump into your backpack in a way to tighten what defense you had.

Eardrums were pierced when the unholy screeching arrived. A barrage of them flitting by, the storm of wings recongregated and finally descended upon you and Eddie. You start stabbing anytime you see a black smudge. Vision was blotted by snapping teeth and grotesque features, all the shrieking made you deaf.

Too many. 

Way too many to the point you and Eddie are forced onto your knees when they pelted down on you ruthlessly. You felt their claws break through every so often, cutting up your face and arms.

There was no better time to use your secret weapon. With great effort while keeping your shield up, your hand drops your spear as it struggles to move your backpack from your back and to your front. Frenzied fingers slip on the zipper tag before you rip it open.

Now you had to discard your shield as well.

“What are you doing?!!” You hear Eddie scream from among the horde of demonic bats.

You didn’t have to tell him anything. One hand on a can of hairspray and the other wielding a lighter, your grimy thumb holds down the nozzle of the hairspray while the other rolls the spark wheel down into the ignition button inside the lighter.

Bright flames of orange, yellow and red ignite and swallow the demobats closest to you. Their death shrieks was music to your ears as you saw the others flutter furiously before trying to take on the flame itself. It was futile. You had them now. Growing bolder, you stand on your feet and scream obscenities at the; taking great joy in seeing their wings disintegrate from the flames. You would thank Nancy later. It was Nancy who had let slip a very important fact about the creatures of the Upside Down; that their greatest weakness was fire. Why your group hadn’t purchased flame throwers or anything similar was beyond you. But you made do with what resources you had. And that was your trusty lighter and Steve’s hairspray which you had pilfered when he wasn’t looking. 

Even Eddie was able to stand to his full height and watch in awe. “You couldn’t have told me you had something up your sleeve?”

You must have been smiling like a madman. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

The two of you stood there until the swarm above was eradicated. Smoked remains of your winged enemies dropped like flies onto the earth until finally there was silence and calm.

Weary, you drop both hairspray can and lighter and fall into Eddie’s waiting arms. He kisses the top of your head, thumb smoothing a cut on your cheek. “I can’t believe it. . . We’re actually alive. . .”

“Eh, I knew we would survive.” Faux smugness enters your voice. “We had to so I could kiss you. No kisses for the dead.”

Eddie laughs and as your reward he does indeed bestow you with his lips, although their dry and cracked it was the best kiss of your life.

In the distance you hear Dustin’s shouting.

You pull out of Eddie’s arms and squint. “Is that. . . Dustin? I thought we cut the rope!”

“Damnit Dustin!” Eddie shouts. 

From his stumbling figure that got closer, you deduced he must have injured his leg from the fall back to the Upside Down. 

You roll your eyes and follow Eddie.

“Y-You’re alive! Oh thank god!!” Dustin cries both in pain and relief.

“This is why we left you there! So you wouldn’t get hurt. Now look at you!” Halfheartedly you scold him but it touched you that Dustin was willing to hurt himself to make sure you and Eddie were okay.

Eddie helps Dustin back to the trailer but you lingered behind. Looking back to where you almost did die. Past the trees that surrounded the haunted trailer park, you knew Steve, Nancy and Robin were proceeding to their own mission. 

“Give him hell, you guys.”

[wh6res]

127 SQUAD AND ROMANTIC BF TINGS

tw a lil bit of suggestive on jae's but nothing explicit

✰ — TAEIL would sing lullabies over the phone or video call. you and him would just be doing your own thing, not talking but enjoying being each other's presence. he'll probably pull out his guitar and start singing random songs until he eventually notices you fell asleep on him. will not end the call and when you wake up in the morning, his snores and his cute sleeping face is the first thing you see. "love? you still there? ... taeil?" then laugh out loud when you hear his snores instead. "okay yeah lets sleep more" the call will only end probably because his phone died. he kinda strikes me as a guy who's phone is always < 50% battery lmao

✰ — JOHNNY is your everything. literally. as long as he has the power of youtube, google, and instruction manuals on his side, he can fix anything and everything for you. we've all seen him do crafty things on jcc lmao so it'll probably apply to relationships as well. will 100% say you now owe him cuddles for fixing something for you. you kinda dont like the fact that he's doing all these things for you so you try doing them on your own without him knowing only to fail big time. "what did we learn today?" "never touch the pipes under the sink" "and?" "and always ask johnny for help" "nuh-uh thats not how i said it" you sigh exasperatedly "always let my smokin hot amazing handsome boyfriend johnny suh get the job done"

✰ — TAEYONG doesn't care whether you take the time shopping or not. in fact, he loves seeing you all excited and giddy for pampering yourself as you should. totally the type to hold the paper bags even if you complain and say you can manage on your own. is a complete angel and will wait patiently outside changing rooms and will give you genuine insight he has of the clothes you picked. "that looks nice. you should get that. the length is just right and the sleeves help accentuate your waist" "really yongie?" "yes love. i mean you look pretty in everything anyway" miss ma'am my heart just fucking melted ?¿?

✰ — YUTA doesn't look like it but will exert real effort into things. would be the type to have a note or a google doc about your favorite orders from restaurants because he just loves how your eyes light up appreciatively and you look so smitten by him. its like a cheat sheet. eventually he memorizes the list with how much time he spends with you and he wont even need it. the type to always bring you food before meeting you (if its just hanging out inside the house). "no way! i was just craving for these!" he smiles before kissing your forehead, volunteering to put the food out its container for you. "i figured. you'd been working since this afternoon. lets eat first then you can tell me about what you've been working on so i can help you, okay?"

✰ — DOYOUNG loves cooking for you. i highkey feel like its his love language? like cooking for you and seeing your eyes light up as it darts back to him after you take your first bite from whatever he cooked just gives him so much happiness. its disgustingly sappy and he doesn't like talking about it. now he understood fully what it meant to see your loved ones eating and being full yourself or some shit. idk how the actual quote goes okay dont come 4 me but u probably get it. anyway the type to always pack you lunch and will get hella mad if you skip meals. "what do you mean you havent eaten yet?" "yeah but i will after i--" "you mean you're going to eat Now?" "what? no maybe later--" "thats it im coming over"

✰ — JAEHYUN would be the type to make you playlists. its really random sometimes he'll send them to you in the early morning for the heck of it bc he cant sleep. most of the time its him being horny lmao the frat boy in him awakening and sending you a playlist called imma blow your back out or something extremely cringey and thirsty pls dont block his sorry ass maybe he'd spell out the words using song titles too! idk jae just rlly strikes me as a guy who's love language is music. "hey babe did you check the playlist i sent you?" "wtf its 4am???" "oh so you havent listened to it yet?" "fuck off" but at the end of the day he'll come over and will use the playlist to,,, you know,,, do the sexy thing ;)

✰ — JUNGWOO always makes sure you walk on the inside of the road. you know when you're walking in the street and he softly nudges your waist? yes. will probably even scold you playfully because with how long its been since you both are together, "babe you always walk on the inside of the road how many times do i have to tell you?" is also the type to remind you to wear your seatbelt immediately after hopping onto his car. would ask you Again while in the middle of the car ride because he forgot that he already asked you earlier. please don't mind him he's just looking out for you bb. "seatbelt?" "yes, babe. already done" "are you sure? i dont think i heard it click--" "babe eyes on the road please" "oh right sorry"

✰ — MARK sends you tiktoks, vines, or memes. this is his love language fite me im calling it. he just wants to see you laugh too okay? thats why he does it. i mean it made him laugh, so maybe it will you laugh too. also because he hopes to make inside jokes with u cuz he believes thats how people really get close and stuff. would definitely love it if you do the same thing with him. you'd be chilling in the sofa while khalid plays on the bluetooth speaker and he'll suddenly go "babe babe babe check this out!" then you both proceed to laugh at a vine for the next thirty minutes <3 #living.the.yn.life

✰ — HAECHAN will do your skincare for you when you're drunk or super tired that you just passed out cold on the bed. would probably come into the room to see you snoring and tutting bc now he has to do it for you again but meh deep down he loves it because he enjoys admiring your sleeping face. its sorta like a healing thing for him? yeah it just washes away all the stress he's feeling and bb is just excited about the idea that this becomes "your thing" with him if u get what im saying? altho the next day he'll probably use it as a leverage to get out of chores :) "no way im not folding our clothes" "and why is that?" "i took your make up off yesterday u know how hard that is? im still tired" "but its literally the next day--" "awww thank you for doing my chores, baby! u the best!" ._.

[wantremover]

i think it's you... oh aggie, your beating heart was a carriage made of gold  how the arithmetic of this guitar melts your heart is beyond me  and when I say beyond me, I mean beyond me  love ya? i barely know you. it goes to show who really knows what love is the branches, the breeze, the roiling seas, none of it seems worth mentioning though I'm in the process of figuring it out, even if it's elementary scrapyard angel, wings of brass, ash, a river called trash  and speaking of life-like, this is what life's like you thread the needle, then the needle runs dry you thread the needle, then the needle runs dry "inward crackle" says the fink to himself oh well, i wasn't taught how to go off like a hydrogen bomb  but i do radiate a certain glow, it flutters and fades, a ferris wheel on the run from the snow you have to look at it from all angles says the cubist judge from cubist jail the sky glows, the heat is unbearable. parrot weather. my decision is final, a crazy game  i traded in moonlight for the morning dew i know dusk when i see one, i know rust when i see it you come out swinging but you go down swinging too you pay good money for a million-dollar view, flipping the pages of sr chatelaine the root empiricism of every troubled loser, quote unquote unquote a moment alone please, a moment alone please, a moment alone please with this rhapsody vital information from where i'm standing low-born madonna with her typewriters in the rain, clacking their misfortunes speech, speech! a figure of light's trapped inside your kimono absent friends, where'd you go? and while we are on the subject of psychotic passwords, honing in on nothing everywhere rome goes, everybody wants her ah fuck i feel like a discovery someone once saw on a clear day dump him!

[issaxcharlie]

Something so right

Pairing: Alive! Luke x Fem reader

Summary: A date with the golden boy of the school reveals Y/N’s and Luke's true feelings for each other and they have no choice but to face what they feel. Who will take the first step?

(The fragments of the song are from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift)

Luke Patterson was more impatient than usual. 7:30 pm and no sign of his best friend, the one who had never missed a Sunset Curve rehearsal in these two years that they had been playing together.

“Am I the only one worried about Y/N? She is not usually late."

Reggie slaps his forehead, a memory snapping back into his head. "I forgot to tell you she won't be here today, she said something about a date."

The guitarist feels a punch in the stomach, he tries to hide how bitter the news fell on him, but his friends know him better than that.

“A date? With who?” Alex asks, genuinely curious.

“Austin Grayson.”

“Ugh, really Y/N?” But of course it had to be the school's golden boy. Luke can't help not feeling insecure. Austin Grayson is everything Luke Patterson isn't, and that scares him. What if that's what she's really looking for in a partner? He just wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Nice, he really has to like her to invited her despite what everyone says." Bobby responds as he takes advantage of the short break to rest his hands. Reggie and Alex nodding in agreement.

“What do they say?” Luke asks, completely lost.

“Oh please, most of the school thinks you guys are dating. There isn't a day that I don't hear someone call her Patterson’s girl." Alex replies, and Luke looks even more lost.

He can somehow understand why they would think that, he always enjoys having her and feeling her close. Usually touching her hand or arm in some way, hugging her whenever he sees fit. Carrying her books in the hallways or supporting her at her basketball games, just like she accompanies them to all the band's rehearsals and performances, or how she sometimes wears to school the clothes that he 'accidentally' leaves at her home when her mom invites him to dinner. On second thought, it’s easy to understand the confusion.

You don’t know what is happening. Austin is sweet, handsome, smart, and yet you feel nothing. Forced yourself to laugh falsely all night, and couldn't help but think that it would have been more fun to join the boys in rehearsal, especially when they were only a few days away from Sunset Curve's first performance at school.

When you finally get home, you walk with your head on the floor, trying not to make eye contact with your date. Austin gently grabs your chin so you turn to see him.

A fake cough from behind causes you both to jump away from each other. You don't even have to turn to find out who owns that perfect timed cough.

“What are you doing here?” You refuse to turn around, but you know he's smirking anyway.

“It’s movie night, love.” You force one more smile towards Austin as you curse Luke under your breath, who emphasized the last word in that seductive deep voice he sometimes does when he sings and that secretly melts your legs.

“Patterson." Austin tries to get past the awkward moment by participating in the conversation, and Luke responds by approaching and placing his arm on your shoulder.

"Grayson. Thank you for bringing her safe and sound." He sounds sincere, and that makes you smile for real for the first time of the night.

“It was nothing... I should go. Goodnight Y/N, I had a great time.”

Luke lowers his arm from your shoulder and leans back, ashamed of his rare moment of insecurity and letting you say goodbye to the boy.

As soon as he leaves, you turn to see your best friend, who looks sadly at the ground, and you hug him tightly.

Luke has been through very difficult months, and it is easy for someone who is vulnerable to feel insecure, especially in situations new to them. Not to mention that you are definitely not going to fight with the person you love for putting his arm on your shoulder or calling you in an affectionate way, which are things that he usually does, guy in your doorstep or not. You decide that he showing a little jealousy for once is not the end of the world.

“I missed you so much, rockstar.” You murmur still against his chest, your statement only makes him hold you tighter. You can't help but think about how just hugging him for a few seconds makes you so much happier than the whole date you just had.

“I’m sorry for making a scene. No wonder everyone thinks we are dating.“

“I don’t mind. I couldn't wear your cool flannels or your necklaces if I was dating someone. Plus it would take away valuable time that I can use as the president of the Sunset Curve fan club.” He chuckles. You can feel his body relax and his heartbeat begins to calm down. He gives you a sweet kiss in your hair before letting you go.

Best friends walk into the house, and as Y/N goes to change into something more comfortable Luke sits at the kitchen counter to chat with his second female best friend.

"You have to do something quick, I don't want to have you here crying and eating ice cream while she's on some date with some graceless snob.”

The guitarist can't help but laugh. Y/N's mom has always been a music lover and one of his greatest inspirations. She gave him his first guitar and taught him how to play, always supporting him in each of his steps as a musician. She has always loved him like a son, believing in him with all her might and always blindly entrusting him with what she loves most in the world, her daughter Y/N.

“I know, I will I promise. What I felt today when I saw Grayson touch her face and so close to her lips... I never want to experience that again. I was thinking maybe at homecoming? Sunset Curve is going to perform.”

She wrinkles her nose in response and Luke laughs again.

"Yeah too much information, I’m sorry. And I know, but we have to start somewhere. As soon as we get booked at a good enough club you'll be the first guest.”

They both make a pinky promise and smile.

“I’ll make you proud someday. I swear.”

“I’m always proud of you, my sweet boy. I know you’ll do amazing things, just take good care of my princess during tours.”

“You know I will.” They pinky promise again and reunite with Y/N in the living room to watch movies til the teens fall asleep cuddling.

Homecoming day arrived and you don’t have a partner. It is not hard to imagine why, being surrounded by at least one of the Sunset Curve members 24/7, especially Luke who tries to be close to you as much as possible, as if he is afraid that you will forget him if you spend too much time separated. Which is actually something you like, if you are honest with yourself. Is not something you would tell him but feeling him close and having his attention devoted to you most of the time feels quite special.

The date with Austin didn’t feel right and only confirmed what you've been trying to deny yourself for months. You are in love with freakin Luke Patterson. And you are in really deep, loving the good, bad, fun, boring, charming, and annoying parts, absolutely every side of him. And now is the time to finally do something about it.

After the guys show tonight, even more girls will be raining down on them than usual and things could get really messy, it's best to make your move first. Inside your heart you know that he feels the same, and if he doesn't have the courage to act on it then you will.

The first and most important thing you need to do to get the operation going is to kidnap Reggie, Alex and Bobby.

After a little threatening session everyone sang about Luke's idea for tonight, which made you grin like an idiot and feel more confident about your plan. The surprise that he will get when he sees how you sabotaged his plan.

Convincing Luke that it was best for you to come on your own so that they would have more time to prepare was not easy, but in the end you succeeded.

He's not a suit kinda person, but you went along with him to get a dark blue one that looked unreal on him just a few weeks ago, and you knew he would find a way to wear it sleeveless so he will look even more irresistible. You opted for a black dress that fades beautifully to blue towards the bottom of the skirt and in which you really look pretty good If you can say it yourself.

Sunset Curve finishes singing the first song, Now or never. It's time for the song Luke wrote for you, but he turns to see his friends scared when he still can't find you in the crowd. They smile at him and start to play the song they practiced with you just a few hours before.

“The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards. You're the kind of reckless that should send me running, but I kinda know that I won't get far.”

You walk onto the stage as you start the first verse, Luke is shocked for a few seconds but then grins from ear to ear.

“And you stood there in front of me just... close enough to touch.” He recovers much faster than expected and pulls you by the waist towards him, just the microphone separating you two while he looks at you with the most seductive face you’ve ever seen.

“'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile... Get me with those green eyes, baby as the lights go down.” He blushes a little and smiles while his eyes are locked on your lips, capturing every move.

After what seems like an eternity, the song ends and before you can even say thank you, Luke's lips crash against yours, and it’s even better than what you’ve dreamed plenty of times. All the people start screaming, but you especially hear Reggie and Alex a few steps away who sound pretty happy for you.

“Reggie, an issue occurred, I have to go, sing home is where my horse is if you want to.” Luke whispers to his friend, before effortlessly carrying you off the stage.

“Admit it, you just want to touch my legs.” You joke while he walks with you on his shoulder.

“I’m in love with a really smart girl.” You stay quiet, your heart wants to jump out of your chest and you don’t even want to imagine how red your face is right now.

The guitarist finally brings you down when you leave the building, and you both walk to the park next door, where you met when you were just kids.

"Do you remember exactly how we met?" He asks while taking your hand.

“Reggie and Alex teamed up to destroy you in a game they invented and I was the only one in the park, so you invited me to join your team. And when we managed to win you said that we were the best duo on the face of the earth, that we had to be best friends forever."

“I sound very intense.”

“You are.”

They both laugh at the memory.

"You were still right."

“When did you finally realize that you loved me?” Luke asks, smirking playfully.

“I've known for a long time, but I didn't dare to admit it until recently.”

He completely accepts my answer and sincerity and smiles at me.

“I always knew that we would end up together, you eat me with your eyes when I'm not wearing a shirt.”

His teasing takes effect and you blush just remembering him in that situation.

He smiles cheekily and then takes mercy on you and changes the subject.

“So, we are the best duo on the face of the earth, best friends forever, and now an official couple?”

“That’s right, handsome and smart. Nice.”

Both approach until their lips touch, the kiss begins calm but quickly becomes more passionate, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth, his arms strong on your hips. You let this amazing sensations envelop you and you lose yourself in him, happier than you've ever been.

When you are with the right person, everything feels just right.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@siennanoelle01 , @totomoshi , @kiss-themoongoodbye , @writerinlearning