#they had to return pretty quick when they heard screaming

[rocksanddeadflowers]

I have one of of those tortilla blankets and I think somebody should wrap Marius up in it like a burrito. It was done to be cute and cozy but then Jonny threatens to actually eat him and Marius has no idea how to unwrap himself.

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) bathtub sex ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 黄仁俊 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ getting renjun to take a bath with you  ヾ

boyfriend!renjun・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎sex in the bathtub, soft sex, little boob play ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. soft renjun smut pls pls pls 😓🙏🙏

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 in celebration of his return 🫶🏽🩷

“junie.” you skipped into the room; climbing into the bed. “lets take a bubble bath together” he looked up from his phone. “what's the occasion?” he asked; you two often showered together in the morning when you were late and it was quick, but this was a random saturday night. “no occasion, wouldn't it be cute no?”

of course he wasn't gonna say no; he wasn't crazy. “fine go get it ready.” you clapped, kissing his lips. “thank you!” you got off the bed going into the bathroom to get everything ready; while you did that, renjun grabbed some comfy pajamas for the both of you, setting them out; grabbing some towels. he heard music playing from your speaker; the vanilla scent from your candles. “junie!”

he smiled hearing you call for him; he made his way to the bathroom, opening the door; you were already in the bubble filled water. “you couldn't wait?” you shook your head, he took his clothes off, climbing into the water with you, sighing as his muscles relaxed. “you feel good?” he nodded , you climbed into his lap. “good.”

he cursed feeling you sit directly on top of his cock. “you're getting hard already junie.” you kissed his jaw; leaving red marks along his neck, your arms wrapped around his neck. “su-such a little minx.” he stuttered. “i knew something was up, i knew you didn't just want to bathe with me.” you smirked against his skin. “yet here you are, in the bathroom with me.”

groaning as you rocked back and forth on his cock; the water slowly moving as his hand came up to your soapy titties , playing with your nipples. “fuck baby keep doing that.” he groaned. “fuck baby i can cum just like this.”

he could cum like that; but not you, you needed him inside you now. “please fuck me junie.” you whined, he smirked. “i thought you had it under control baby.” he grunted as you kept moving your hips. “you got me in here; you climbed into my lap, but at the end of the day you still need me to do everything.” he grabbed your hips, lifting you up. “still need me to fill this pretty pussy.”

teasing you with the tip of cock, sinking you down on his length; both of you moaning out in pleasure. “so fucking warm baby.” your tight cunt squeezing around him as you bounced on him. “fu-fuck baby slowly, slowly.” he hissed. “gonna cum if you go so fast.” he held the globes of your ass, moving you. “good girl , taking my cock so well, fuck.”

the water began to grow cold; the bubbles no longer there; both your legs getting tired. “b-baby let's fuck let's get out and finish, let me fuck you properly now.” you whined. “wanna keep you inside me , need you.” he chuckled. “i know baby , i know you need my cock , but let's get out first.” you finally let him slip out of you , he helped you out of the tub; lifting you on to the sink. “junie.”

he pushed his cock back inside you; holding your hips as he fucked into you. “there you go baby , take my cock.” he groaned , your wet bodies slapping together; your boobs bouncing up and down. “fuck junie fuck!” you screamed out, his cock bullying your cervix. “fuck im gonna cum!”

he cursed , your cunt fluttering around him. “fuck! love your pussy so much.” he threw his head back, losing himself in you. “shit gonna cum for me? cum for junie.” he toyed with your clit, rubbing harsh figure eights on your bud. “cum for me.” that's all you needed , before you were cumming, gasping. “junie , please cum.”

he moaned out your name, spilling his cum inside you. “shit.” he slowly moved his hips, riding out his orgasm, your body shook in overstimulation. “good girl.” he said, pulling out of you. “let's move to the room.”

“wanna eat this pretty pussy before i get you cleaned up again.”

©LUVYENI

[haikyu-mp4]

High school sweethearts

“Did you hear about aone? I heard that he started dating that one popular girl! But you didn't hear that from me!!” – @sharkissm for my Gossip Event.

word count; 686 – f!reader

Aone did an uncharacteristic double take the first time it happened, the first time you came to one of his games and cheered for him after a successful block. You were of another world to him, so perfect in the way you were not only beautiful but also so kind and charismatic. People wanted to be around you, unlike Aone who always sat alone on the train.

So he also couldn’t believe it when you sat down beside him on the train one day, smiling so kindly and asking him if the seat was free. He nodded silently, gulping and fumbling with his fingers as you sat down. Your knee knocked into his and he almost felt like blushing. You’re just so cool.

“I watched your game the other day, it was awesome!” you gushed, flipping out your phone and showing him a video you had taken of him blocking the last point, then the camera turned to your face as you screamed in cheers for your school’s team. If he heard correctly, you even yelled his name in particular. “I would be so scared to break my fingers or something if I blocked like that.” As you said this, you held a hand out, showing off your perfect gel nails.

Aone admired them, making a sound of approval at the cool design in the school’s colours. “They are very pretty, breaking them or your fingers would be a shame.” It was said as a clear statement, and his deep voice made your eyes widen.

“Thank you,” you said softly at the compliment, eyes glittering. Surely, his eyes were betraying him because it looked like you were blushing too. “My nail artist is great…” And then you spent the rest of the train ride telling him about anything that came to mind, about your nails and your schoolwork and him.

A few days later, Futakuchi let out the biggest huh when you came to the gym doors and asked for Aone. “Class project?” he asked, somewhat protective of the big friendly giant.

“No,” you answered simply, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him as a playful challenge. “So? Can I talk to him?”

“We have to practise, princess-“ Futakuchi started, holding up his finger, only to be interrupted by a shadow behind him.

“I can take a short break.”

The captain turned around slowly to see his best friend, scrunching his nose trying to think of something to say before slumping his shoulders in defeat and stomping off. “Five minutes.”

You looked at Aone, the sparkle back in your eyes that he still couldn’t believe had anything to do with him. “Sorry. What did you need?”

Licking your lips and tucking some hair behind your ear, you asked him if he was free after practice, earning you a quick yes from Aone and a distant complaint from Koganegawa about team-building activities.

That evening you spent talking over your instant ramen cups in the closest konbibi became your first date.

And a first date eventually turned into dating.

Aone’s cheering squad was the loudest for every game, and you lavishly spoiled him with attention and care that made him feel like he was soft, not just big and scary.

In return, he gave you comfort and always listened. Whether it was seemingly meaningless yapping or serious conversations about life’s many trials, he was always there for you.

A power couple, one must admit.

Even Futakuchi admitted it after you got the principal to make all the arrangements for when they got to nationals in their third year, also making sure every student who could go, came to cheer for the Iron Wall.

And as Aone looked up at you in the stands, you cheered just as loudly as you did the first time he caught your eye, and you looked just as gorgeous to him no matter what happened. Even at night, all makeup off and bawling your eyes out over a sappy movie with toilet paper stuck in your nose to stop it from running.

Always his beautiful girlfriend, who just happened to be very popular.

masterlist

[diejager]

God! I love dark price, please write a part of dark price and reader with his son (I want a mini price 😔) I think it would be a boy 😅 but I'll leave it up to you <3 have a good day, best writer on Tumblr <3

Cage Cw: forced pregnancy, forced relationship, MENTION OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.

“Mama! Mama!” Two, childlike voices called out to you, their tones light and jovial with a child’s innocence, untainted by the horrors of the world.

Rapid pads followed after their screams, running steps heading your way as you turned to look at the source, putting down the knife you used to cut the ripe and fresh carrot for supper. Two pairs of hands grabbed at your pants, wide, blue eyes staring up at you with joy and wonder in their pretty eyes, they begged for attention.

You loved them. You truly did. From the lingering fat on their three-year old cheeks, their round, doe eyes in a stormy, blue shade, their chubby limbs and fingers holding onto you to the soft locks in the shade of your hair. From the adorable behaviour, pliant and obedient, always eager to listen to you if it meant receiving praises and kisses from you, to the innocence in their being, untouched by the cruelty you’ve seen when you were still working. But everything about them reminded you of him, of their father, of your husband. Your boy and daughter were spitting images of their father, only with your shade of hair.

“What wrong?” You crouched to their height, thumb rubbing the blue ink off the fat of your daughter’s cheek with your clean hand, you’d left the both of them in the living room with a box of coloured pens and paper to draw with.

“Hungry, Mama,” Olivia moaned, clutching her shirt with an adorable pout, reaching for her brother for help to convey her hunger.

You cooed at her, picking the both of them up, bobbing them until they sat comfortably on each side of you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as they cried and moaned about being hungry, about their tumtums making sound. You put them on separate chairs, handing them a small cracker to eat while your finished making your soup. Olivia and Arthur - you precious twins - liked the bland crackers, wanting something to bite into while their teeth grew, to stop the itch and discomfort of growing teeth.

“Mama’s almost finished, it’ll be done once Dada’s home, okay?” Your kids were smart, they understood words that most wouldn’t at this age. You chalked it up to them having your husband’s genes, his smart and quick decisions made it nearly impossible to beat him in a battle of wits, you learned that the hard way.

As if summoned by your voice, you heard the lock click, announcing your husband’s return from work. Hearing their father open the door, Arthur and Olivia jumped off their seats and rushed to the door, smiling and giggling, overjoyed to see their father home after leaving early in the morning. He bent down to kiss them, bringing them into his chest and blowing kisses, a few dozen on their forehead, another dozen on each cheek and a few on their pink nose, small and adorable.

“Go on, give Ma and Pa a moment, yeah?” He smiled softly, petting them on the head before coaxing them away, wanting a moment to hold you on his own.

He pulled you towards him, hands grasping onto your hips, strong and unyielding in his hold. He pressed his lips to your cheek, slowly trailing down to your lips with a searing and possessive kiss, demanding your attention and whole being. He nipped at your lip, teeth biting on your lower lip until you let out a small whimper, audible to him and you alone, protecting your children from Price’s darker side.

“John,” you mumbled, panting when he pulled away, your lips swollen from his rough kiss.

When you tried to move back, you were stopped by his grip on your nap, unaware that his hand snaked up to hold you still, keeping your face near his. His stormy eyes brewed with a cyclone, a violent and powerful torrent of emotions that had you shudder in fear and apprehension. He was strung high, pulled tight on the edges, his nerves burned to its core without any relief for him to come back down. You knew you would have to help him relax, to surrender your body to his whims.

“Let’s… let’s just eat dinner and get the kids to bed first, all right?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

[kitkat13001]

⋆｡°✩🎃 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝

>> tomura shigaraki x civilian!reader

>> cursing, reader is scared of horror movies, mentions of serial killers, weapons, typical halloween stuff etc

tomura’s pretty sure your ear-splitting, blood-curdling scream can be heard across the entirety of japan. 

all he had done was tap on your window, same as he had every time he visited you. except that he had done so as you were in the middle of a horror movie, and now he’s pretty sure his ears are bleeding. 

he’s quick to climb inside and cover your mouth, shushing you gently with his arms around you while he waits for your heart rate to return to normal. 

“your neighbors are going to start asking questions,” he grumbles once he lets you go (after you’ve stopped shaking). 

you wave a dismissive hand. “they don’t give a damn. they’re all ten times worse than i am. ‘sides, if any of them give me shit, i’ll just send my evil villain boyfriend after them.”

this elicits a laugh from him. 

you settle back onto the couch while tomura makes himself comfortable, hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes before coming to lay out beside you. 

he squints at the screen, the horrified face of jamie lee curtis staring back at him. “whatcha watchin’ that’s got you so freaked?”

you bunch up the blanket all the way up to your face, burrowing into his side. “halloween, 1978. one of my coworkers bet i was too scared to watch a horror movie, so i’m gonna show her.” you murmur a spiteful ‘bitch’ under your breath and it makes tomura chuckle. 

“oh yeah,” he agrees sarcastically, nudging your leg with his own. “you and your little blanket against the world.”

you shoot him a look, sitting up to glare at him. “i can be brave!”

tomura just stares blankly, not dignifying you with an answer. he knows you can’t, but he doesn’t want to burst your bubble. 

you huff at him before collapsing back against his side, hitting play on the movie. 

the actress is mid-scream—you had to have known based on the way the movie was paused—but you jump anyway when she screeches. 

tomura tries not to laugh. 

it goes on like this for the next hour. you’re watching the movie from behind your blanket, nails digging into tomura’s arm, and he’s watching you as you jump and flinch and bury your face in his side. 

you sit, horrified, as the credits roll. 

“that was awful.”

“yeah,” tomura agrees, throwing a piece of popcorn at the screen. “the kill scenes were shit.”

“but the music was so damn creepy!” you insist, shivering. you lay against him for a while longer, letting the credits roll as you get comfortable. 

tomura’s nearly dozing off when he feels you tug on his sweater sleeve. 

“tomu, i have to pee.”

he peeks one eye open at you to give you a look before he leans his head back again. “okay?”

“come with me!”

“to pee?!”

“what if michael myers is in the bathroom?!” you cry, pulling on his sleeve insistently. 

he groans loudly, grumbling and complaining the entire way to the bathroom as you drag him with you. 

you shove him inside first, flicking on the lights with a yelp. 

“now check behind the shower curtain,” you tell him with a shooing motion. 

“you’re shitting me.”

“tomu!”

he huffs, knocking your curtain aside to check for serial killers. “see? no psychopaths in here.”

“except for you,” you giggle as he scowls at you. you make your way to the toilet, but he flicks the light off and you scream. 

he snickers at your cursing, dodging the roll of toilet paper you throw at him when you come out of the bathroom. 

“you’re such an asshole!”

he pulls you in as you grumble, but succumb to his warm embrace. 

“don’t be such a baby. you know i’d never let anything happen to you. some psycho with a knife’s got nothin’ on me, sweetheart. it’s me they should be scared of.”

you give a little ‘hmph’, but his words ease your nerves a little. that, and the warmth and safety of his arms around you. 

the way you burrow further into him, hands gripping the sides of his hoodie, makes him smile a little. tomura’s not capable of a significant amount of good, being a villain and all. but protecting you is, and will always be, second nature to him. 

i just watched halloween for the first time and was thoroughly creeped out. i hate horror movies, in case it wasn’t obvious. but i wanted to write something for tomura for the spooky season! stay tuned for spooky dabi :p 👻

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

[ann1-wr1tes]

Babydoll, you need some Rock n' Roll!

Synopsis: You go to see one of your Rock n' Roll bands at a concert. Things get even better for you when you get to meet the one and only Leon Kennedy, lead singer of the band backstage. Things get interesting when you meet him later for an autograph.

Warnings: Smut, Adult themes, filth

Word Count: 2,620

A/N: Rockstar Leon = HOT! Also the moodboard is made by me!

-----

Leon felt his senses being overwhelmed as his vision was blinded with flashing lights and confetti, all he could hear was the constant sounds of the electric guitar humming and the screams of the fans that resided in the crowd. It was a great yet terrifying feeling, all at once. It made his entire body fill with adrenaline and it felt like he was high on it all as his fingers slid up and down the neck of the guitar, skillfully playing the chords as his voice rang out through the crowded stadium.

These were the moments he practically lived for. He just loved the spirit and the soul that came from the crowd every time he hit a certain part in the song or it was even amazing at how the entire audience started to sing along with him….it was all so exhilarating.

He eyed the crowd and he noticed a few girls in particular that practically squealed in their shrill voices as he smirked down at them. He was honestly surprised that they didn't faint right then and there with how one of them seemed to pale and the other one had the goofiest grin on her face, she was almost going cross eyed with excitement as he eyed them from the stage.

The way they were reacting gave Leon a sense of giddy delight, he couldn’t help but smile even wider in return, if anything he wanted to laugh. The two girls seemed absolutely infatuated with what was happening in front of them, they kept pointing and screaming things like “Look at his lips! And his eyes! They're soooo pretty!”, or “He has such a nice voice! It's so smooth! I think I might faint!"

Leon has to stop from chuckling as he turns back around and continues to strum on his guitar. The end of the song was approaching so he faced the huge audience once more and with the rest of the voice he still had left, he belted out the last lyrics, closing his eyes, leaning back slightly as everyone in the crowd marvels and watches in awe at the amount of raw talent Leon possessed.

When he finally finished the song, everyone cheered as he held his hand and guitar up into the air and said a quick thank you into the microphone before taking one more glance around the stadium and then vanishing backstage.

Almost immediately he has people walking up to him, complimenting him on his concert, handing him bottles of water, taking his guitar and going to put it away. He barely had enough time to just sit for a moment and breathe before he was informed that people were about to start coming backstage to meet him.

Leon quickly swigs down the rest of the water and right when he hears the muttering and not so quiet, girlish whispers from behind, he turns around with the best smile he could muster. Immediately he is met with screams and squeals that are loud enough to make his ears bleed. Then it was the pictures that they wanted to take with him and then he heard the whole, "i'm your biggest fan!!!" or "I love you so much!". It was always usually the same when he met fans, which he didn't mind but it did get rather repetitive after a while.

With a sigh, the group leaves and another group comes up to see him. It was all the same thing. The squealing, the pictures, the compliments, maybe a few autographs here and there, but as he talked to all the fangirls, he noticed one in particular that was a bit off to the side, watching.

You eyed Leon nervously. Maybe it was just because of how attractive he was or maybe you just didn't want to bother him but he you stayed off to the side, letting your friends cry and scream over him, while you just watched.

In all honesty, you just really enjoyed his music. Yeah it was a plus that he was hot. His hair was perfect, even when it stuck to his forehead from the excessive running around on stage and the adrenaline, his arms were so built and you could find yourself staring sometimes, and his hands…oh his hands. How they would just glide up and down the neck of the guitar as he played. He did it flawlessly and it was almost mesmerizing.

"So what about you? Did you like the show?" Leon asks, as he smiles at you through all your friends.

You suddenly realize that your eyes were glued to his arms since they were crossed across his chest and you could really see the pure muscle that he possessed. Now that you realized he was talking to you though, your face flushed and you let a nervous smile slip onto your face.

"Are you kidding? The show was great, you're super talented." you smile, trying to give some genuine compliments as your friends smile and snicker to one another. You really did mean the words though and even when you got a little flustered, you smiled, giving Leon a sudden warm feeling in his heart that he couldn't explain. He liked it. He liked you.

"Thank you, it means a lot." he responds, flashing you another blinding grin.

Your heart rate starts to increase and you feel your cheeks heat up. Why are you blushing so badly?! As soon as he saw you blushing, he just smirks as he notices your red face but doesn't say anything. Suddenly more people come up to him and he grasps your arm gently, grabbing your attention just for one more second.

"Make sure to catch me later before you leave so I can give you an autograph." He quickly states. You nod your head in slight giddiness and awe as Leon turns back around and greets more fans.

You definitely couldn't leave without an autograph…right?

-----

Leon's lips are hot on yours as his hands roam up and down your body, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your skin as you grip onto his broad shoulders. Gosh how did you get here?

Well it started with the autograph. You stayed longer to get an autograph…that's the only reason why, just an autograph. But from there you both started to talk. Then the talking turned into playful flirting from Leon and god he just adored how easily you blushed. Then the next thing you knew you were under Leon, in his bed, with his hand and lips all over you. It felt like you were in heaven.

You're breathless and panting when he pulls away, leaving hot, wet kisses along your jawline and then down your neck, where you shiver and he laughs, nuzzling your neck again. It sends shivers up and down your spine.

"God, I've never wanted someone this bad in my entire life," Leon groans, as he presses himself against you, his lips trailing back up your jawline again. You can distinctly feel the bulge that is straining against his leather pants as you desperately grind up against him for some sort of friction.

His tongue traces up your collar bone and he nibbles on the skin, making you moan and arch your back against him. His hand snakes up to your ass and squeezes as he smirks at you through his own panting breaths.

Your shirt and bra had been long discarded, along with your pants which left you only in your panties. It would be embarrassing if your mind wasn't clouded with lust right now, but Leon seems to be enthralled as he takes one of his ringed fingers and trails it up and down your clothed slit.

You let out a loud mewl as you try to buck up into his hand, only for Leon to pull away smugly. You pout and whine loudly as he stares down at you, his gaze dark with desire and lust.

"Please! I…I need something, anything!" you beg as you grab his wrist. His eyebrow raises in amusement as he stares down at you and you guide your hands towards your dripping folds.

"Please Leon…please…" you whine.

"Well since you asked like such a good girl.." suddenly Leon moves your panties to the side and plunges two fingers into your cunt. You are practically blinded by euphoric pleasure as you feel his cold, metal rings meet with your heated, sensitive flesh. It has your writhing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

You can feel your walls tightening against his fingers, a small whimper escaping your throat as his thrusts became faster, harder and with each pump of his fingers your moans turn into loud, desperate cries as your orgasm builds.

Suddenly, Leon pulls his fingers out and you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth and suckles, all while looking you right in the eye with zero shame. It's almost painful as you clench around nothing. Oh how you wished his fingers were still buried deep inside you.

"Stop..t-teasing.." you whimper, tears gather in your eyes as you continue to look up at him. His grin widens as he sees the way you try to keep control and you close your eyes tightly, clenching the sheets underneath your fists as you cling onto the last little bit of pride that you had left.

Suddenly Leon flips over, pushing you down further on the bed and you let out a muffled yell from surprise as he grips your hips and starts to grind against you.

"This what you wanted?" Leon growls into your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you wanted more, he just wanted to hear your pretty little begs and cries as he gave you a little taste of what you truly desired.

While the friction felt good, you wanted more. You desperately tried to buck your hips back up against him and when that wasn't enough you panted and gripped the sheets even tighter between your hands. Leon thought that was gonna burst right then and there. You looked so desperate, so pathetic.

"Oh what? Is this not enough for you, doll?" Leon says, teasing you even more as he grabs a handful of hair and turning your head to the side so he could see all your cute little facial expressions and hear your whines.

"N-No…need your…need your cock…" you mutter against the pillow.

"Sorry sweetheart. What was that? You may need to speak up." Leon says in a mocking tone as he continues grinding against your core with more pressure.

"Ugh! I said…need…you to fuck me." You manage to squeak out with shaky breaths.

"Ah~ sounds like a lot for a tiny thing like you." Leon says and you hear a low chuckle, causing you to slightly open your eyes to look at him and glare lightly. "What? Don't glare at me princess~" Leon says, with a grin.

Before you can retort, he abruptly stops grinding against you and sits up a bit to start undoing his pants. He does so slowly as you watch, almost giving you a show as he finally slips off his pants, leaving him in his black boxers that have a little wet patch of precum on the front.

You watch as Leon looks you in the eye and he starts to palm himself in front of you, closing his eyes and letting out a moan when he feels the friction of his own hand. Leon can feel himself becoming more desperate so not wanting to waste anymore time he pulls down his boxers and groans as his swollen cock slaps against his stomach.

Leon then leans back towards you, pulling your thighs apart as he rubs his cock in between your folds, trying to gather some of your slick as a lubricant.

"You ready?" he asks, making sure that you were fully okay with this. You don't even hesitate to nod quickly in desperation, ready to feel filled to the brim.

"I need an audible answer, baby." he coos.

"Yes! Please….I-I need you." you plead, your voice sounding strained and shaky as he chuckles.

With that, Leon slowly pushes inside, grunting as he feels himself filling your body. You're so tight that he can't even hold back some moans as he fully sheathes himself inside you.

Leon holds onto you tightly, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he shudders when you clench around him with an almost pornographic moan. It's not long until he starts moving, making quick, steady strokes as he lets out heavy breaths, feeling so good, so euphoric.

"Ah…I'm fucking close already…fuck!" Leon whispers as he begins to thrust a bit more harshly into you.

You can barely even make a response as you practically moan into the pillow under your head. You buck your hips up against his in an attempt to match his thrusts as he leans his weight against you a bit more, feeling the pleasure build up in his body quicker than he thought.

Your hands move from the sheets to Leons wrists that are planted on both sides of your head as he tries to keep himself stable. Out of neediness, you grip onto his wrists and Leon slips his hands down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"Fuck! Leon!" you cry. Your back arches into the bed and your eyes roll up into the back of your head as Leon hits a certain spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

"Shit! That feel good, baby?" he asks. You give an incoherent noise in response, which makes him laugh softly before continuing to fuck you roughly, sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies as he goes deeper and deeper each passing moment.

You can feel the knot in your belly start to tighten and you know that your about to get the release you've been begging for.

"Ah! Mmmhh, L-Leon…m'gonna cum." You gasp out.

"Yeah? Be a good girl sweetheart and cum for me." Leon groans, pulling out before slamming back inside, hitting a certain spot inside you once again, making you cry out loudly. With a few more thrusts you are practically blinded with pleasure as you can feel your hot release gush around Leon's cock, squeezing around him.

"Fuck!" Leon moans. He nuzzles his head against your shoulder as you ride out your orgasm, but the way you were clenching around Leon made him teeter off the edge as well, being thrown into his own world of bliss as he shoots his warm seed into you.

He falls on top of you afterwards, panting and trying to regain his senses as he feverishly presses kisses against your shoulder and neck. His hand even comes up to trail across your heated skin and run through your hair. He closes his eyes with his heavy breaths fanning across your back, making you shiver.

"That….was amazing." Leon breathlessly says.

"Tell me about it…" you pant in response.

"So uhh, this may be awkward timing but you wouldn't maybe wanna go get some dinner later or something….would you?" he nervously mutters into your shoulder.

You can't help but giggle a little as your lips curl up into a smile.

"I'd love to." you murmur happily. He lets out a sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around you and gently places a kiss in the crook of your neck before planting another soft one on your cheek. You can't help but flush in response and you also just realize that you just got fucked by THE Leon Kennedy and asked out by him.

Boy oh boy, were your friends were gonna be jealous.

[bitchlessdino]

lee chan needs love too (m)

Pairing: fuckboy!chan x fem!reader

Genre:��smut, humor

Word count: 9.3k

tags: pwithp, mention of high school, mention of alcohol, college au, virgin!chan, fuckboy!chan, frat boy!chan, lip piercing!chan, blonde!chan, yearning, car sex, unprotected sex, breasts play, oral (rec.), degradation, kinda exhibitionism, manhandling, possessive!chan, pet names

Summary: There was Lee Chan from High school and now Lee Chan from college. You insist they are not the same person. The only thing they have in common is they both got to fuck you.

author note: happy early bday to me hehe 🥳🥂🎉🎊🎂 this was entirely self indulgent and although i think i could've done better with the plot, i think it makes sense some what for what it is and regardless i hope you guys enjoy. at least the banner is very cute and look blonde chan even has a piercing.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

The last time you saw Lee Chan was in the back of his used Camry at Boo Seungkwan’s graduation party. 

He blossomed the fuck out of nowhere into an unrecognizable gorgeous specimen of a man when you caught him fucking your roommate during the middle of finals season when you desperately need the peace and quiet to study. It was probably the dead of night—10 pm in your case—and the juice in your Bluetooth earbuds had just died. It was especially unfortunate since they were sound blocking you didn’t realize how badly you needed it with the fuckfest in the room across from you.

By the sound of it, Minnie was having a great time—which you usually aren’t mad about—but so was her friend, who you might add was obnoxiously loud (hot too, but that wasn't the point). You screamed at them from your desk, but you doubt they heard anything with the music on blast you’re assuming was to block out their noise. It was proven less than fruitful when you get no response in return. Finally, you forced yourself out of your room and began pounding hard against her door in desperate pleas. “I should be used to it by now, but please, please keep it down, even a smidge. I have a really important exam in the afternoon. And I can’t t—“

Before you can continue rambling, the door opens from the other side. You met the eyes of a bottle blonde, 5’8, taut and misted with sweat all over, adorned with a pretty piece of metal at his bottom lip. Oh no, he’s hot.

The man looked surprised at your appearance, despite the fact he was the one that turned the knob and swung it open. He stood there, looking more attractive than you anticipated, and just observed you in incomprehensible disbelief. “Well, shit.”

“Yeah. Look I get it, you guys have every right to…continue what you’re doing, all I ask is,” You squeeze your index and thumb to indicate something small, “take it down a notch, a little notch.”

He scoffed, looking amused. He crossed his arms and lean against the door frame, very fortunately wearing underwear (boner shapely and defined). And it only took a second for you to trace the outline of his gorgeously crafted body. As if he was made with marble, he looks as though one of the greats did him a solid by sculpting him one of the most beautiful bodies you’ve ever seen. You almost didn't realize you were ogling at it until he began to speak in his smooth tenor tone of voice. “Can't really take a notch down, but I can promise it’ll be quick.”

You didn’t like the suggestion in his tone nor the wink he displayed either.

“Come back to bed,” your roommate whined in the background. You shut your eyes in disdain, now in disbelief that you were negotiating with one of her hookups right now. “How quick?”

He grinned. “How do you feel about joining?”

“Not happening.”

“Then…” he pondered in thought, “give or take 10, 15 minutes.”

“How the hell is that quick? Don’t college guys cum for like 5 minutes?”

He chortled, and you caught that gleaming smile that likely coerced your roommate in the first place. “I’m a feminist. Ladies first.”

“I’m also a lady, so I say, make it quick…please and thank you.” You walked off with that and waited patiently for them to be done, only to realize it was going to take way longer for both of them to finish than it would be to charge your earbuds halfway, so you settled for the latter.

By the time he left, it was the morning after and you were honest to Minnie about ‘not liking this one,’ to which she laughed like it was the funniest thing you ever said.

Pieces really began to be put together one afternoon going through your old school yearbooks when you found them in the back of your closet. Minnie joined you in your period of nostalgia, wanting to see possible future hotties to cross reference to now. Then she sees him, points out the fact he was the one you confront around a week ago, and it all comes full circle. Your eyes shot back at the aged pages in pure shock, pulling it up to face to make sure you were seeing it clearly. “No way...”

“Oh my god,” she pulled it back from you, “Chan looks so cute here. I just wanna gobble him and put him in my pocket.”

He had his natural black hair, kind brown eyes, and—dawning on you on that very second—the smile that bares more joy than a kindergarten classroom. Back then, this kid didn’t have the blonde hair or piercings he had now. What he did look like was any other teenager that would listen to his parents and go to church. He was the model good boy. 

The model good boy whose virginity you took when you were 18 years old after a very public breakup with your ex at someone’s graduation party.

“What are you doing in my car?” Chan interrogated the second you let the door shut behind you.

You really had no plan then, all you knew was you wanted to evacuate the party immediately the moment things ended with Gyu. He had to be irrational and so utterly infuriating that you couldn’t stand to look at his face anymore. So, you just entered the nearest vehicle, forgetting the fact you never called an Uber or Lyft.

You weren’t ready to face the music yet, so a change of subject was in order. “What are you doing leaving early?”

“I asked you first.”

You crossed your arms obnoxiously, “And if I don’t want to answer?” In a second, you regret that, seeing the genuine concern on his face. You dropped your arms to the side. “I don’t wanna be around people right now.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. “I’m people. Do I not count?”

“You’re a little too…perfectionist to be a regular person. Now, why are you leaving early?”

He simply shrugged. “Curfew.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly scoffing.“Of course, you have a curfew.”

You both sat in complete silence. You should’ve questioned why you were still in here, a car that didn’t belong to you with its owner, a magnet for college recommendation letters and scholarships rather than people with a potential romantic connection. But no, you just stayed there, wallowing in your internal conflicts of average day teenager, thinking about a tomorrow that you wouldn’t even remember two or three years from now.

“Wanna talk about it?” Chan initiated, breaking the silence.

You exaggerated a sigh like the theater kid you were, forearm to the forehead. “No.”

“Wanna hook up?”

You sat up from the seat to stare back at him stunned. It was a shock that such an idea would come out of his mouth even as a joke, yet temptation lingered in your body, making you clench your thighs as if you heard the lewdest thing to be said ever in history. Safe to say, it didn’t get much rile up a person on the rebound.

Before he could jump in and say the automated pathetic phrase, “Just kidding,” followed by an awkward chuckle, you’ve already thrown yourself against him from the passenger seat. You moved against him expertly as one in a high school long relationship could, tightening the crotch of his pants as he could think of anything but what he actually put in his commended college essay about his experience with—fuck what was it about?

He pulled himself away the moment he felt tongue, restraining himself to the car window for dear life. “W-what was that for?”

“You propositioned me first.” You smiled, breathless. You drew closer to him, trying to retrieve the distance–or lack thereof–you had with Chan seconds before where you could practically taste the innocence on his lips. “I want to go through with it.”

His eyes shot open like Wile E. Coyote. “W-what? Here?”

“Yes, here, Chan.”

“W-why?” he stuttered, which he did a lot of. Perhaps, he should look into that.

You mustered a sultry expression, narrowing your eyes at him which helps you notice his dilated eyes that quivered in both fear and arousal. “Because maybe all this time…I’ve wanted you. It’s always been you.”

“R-really?”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, no. But just tonight I can.”

“Does this have to do with why you left early?”

“Do you always talk this much before you fuck someone?”

“No—uh, I don’t know, I—“

You pulled back in realization. “Oh my god, you’re a virgin.”

“Shut up!” he said, typing to cover your mouth to prevent you from exposing him, which you successfully avoid.

“You had a girlfriend all throughout junior year!”

“No, I didn't. She was my secretary. I was the student body president.”

“But she kept giving you eyes.”

He squinted. “What eyes?”

“Nevermind. What matters is do you want to go through with this?”

“Having sex in my car?” He clarified, somehow doubtful.

“Yes, nerd.”

“Is the insulting really necessary?” He winced, you notice playfully.

“It’s my kink,” you dryly jestered.

You’re about to tackle him again when he pulled back one last time.“W-wait, what about condoms?”

“I’m clean,” you shrugged, “don't worry about it.”

“What about, you know?”

You scoffed. “Please, I've been taking birth control before you even started puberty. You can cum in me, Chan.”

His cheeks then turned a vibrant hue of scarlet, spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “I-in you?”

“Yes, Chan.” You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, hand ruffling through his hair, which was quite soft despite the product. “You can cum all you want in me.” You kissed the top of his nose as your body brushed up against something big and firm. “And by the rock in your pants, you’re not against it.”

“There actually is a rock in my pants.” Chan struggled to get the geode gift given to him by his teacher at the diploma ceremony and he casually tossed it in the cupholder, chuckling nervously.

You fingered over this cheek, noticing the smooth, almost flawless skin adorned by a few moles, particularly one on the left side of his face beneath his eye was devastatingly cute, “Obviously, that’s not the rock I was talking about.”

You leaned into him, your cherry zero coke breath fanning his cheeks, and he can feel the curves of your body fit into his hollows. He stifles a breath before you kiss him again, your tongue brushing against his bottom to regain access. Naturally (as natural for Chan anyway), his hands came up your sides as he familiarized himself with your lips. You lightly moaned, digging your hips at him, before hearing a moan back that sent chills up your spine and pebbled your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so cute, Chan.”

“Y/n…” he whined unbelievably soft and malleable.

You threaded through his soft, dark hair, lightly down his scalp. 

You remember making out with him for a serial amount of time before he ‘accidentally’ (you’re still not sure to this day) lowered his seat position until he was nearly flat on his back. He uttered a soft apology before you were on him again. Clothes were tossed to the back seats and you see the bit of definition he developed from being co-captain on the dance team. You bathed in the heat of his skin as you unbuttoned his khakis, and revealed his untouched glory.

You reveled in being the first of the kind, somehow excited that you were the one to enjoy this side of Chan first, kissing him in unbridled, visceral lust. You lathered him in your wet, raw arousal, feeling the twitch of his cock against your slit as he’s groaning your name. You teased his voice, cooing praises at him for being so big and good for you until you let him take residence. 

You could feel him push through your walls, levying his sizing and stretching until your warmth. It does more than distract you, it satisfies you. You swear you hear a hiss of his voice, followed by, “fuck, that’s good,” before you bounce against his cock. You hope that the car can muffle noise because all you could repeat were your anguished moans and his name, the name that sounded like pure music to the young man’s ears.

You took his unoccupied hands, resting each on either breast while riding his firm, strong thighs. His jaw dropped. The sensation of your plush walls around his girth and the pillowy texture of your tits between his fingers made his hips buckle.

“That good?” You asked softly, to which he nodded. His eyes glaze over back at you, difficulty keeping them wide open and he finds the courage to twist your nipples between his fingers, your stomach churning whimpers escaping you the moment he does. “C-Chan…”

“Sorry, did that hurt?”

You shook your head, “No,” and folded into him, your chest immediately hitting his line of vision. “Touch me more…”

He does as you asked, staring back at you like a deer lost in wonder, and like that, everything after comes second nature. The warmth of his mouth takes over your naked breast, drawing circles against your textured skin with his tongue and he moves more freely against your body. It was fluid the way he moved like his virgin status was and is all it was, a status, not showcasing any of his skill. You fed off of him, his energy, his body, his want. He didn’t even know what he was doing. He was just a natural.

“C-can I fuck you?”

“Fuck me?”

His lips quivered, face flushed red and misted in sweat, “Yes, can I fuck you against the seats?”

You slowly nodded before readjusting in the seats. Chan, still inside you, found his natural pace, letting his cock hit you with enough power and depth that it made your legs freeze and bent in the air as a response, “Mmh, Chan…”

“Is that—ump—good?”

“Yes, but faster, don’t be scared to break me.”

He isn’t sure what you mean by that but he tries. His thrusts become his own, disciplined and sharp, enveloping himself in your fluttering walls that clench harder around him the faster he went. Your hands gripped his upper body, lips latching on his to dampen the sound of your voice. Your body pressed to the tautness of his, pushing him deeper inside and you felt it mere seconds away. An orgasm. An actual orgasm.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck me, Chan!” You were blistering the heat of your climax, you writhe underneath him and clutched against him by the back of your knees.

He’s eternally grateful because he was seconds away from cumming himself. He let your hips falter, coming down from the high before letting his hips take over. Drowning you in his grunts, he fucked you until he climaxed, his final thrusts painting your insides in ivory honey and making you feel whole. He panted against you, a tired smile on his face as he held his cum in you with mere his cock. Finally, he rests.

“Congratulations,” you said, laughing.

He scoffed lightly, “Thanks.”

It stayed like that for a few minutes, cock wet and warm in you, finding peace in the gentle chaos. He pushed himself from on top of you and looked down on your sweaty, exhausted form. His lips crashed against yours, and you sense his gratitude as he backed off. “Really. Thank you.”

You smiled lightheartedly, “Shut up and get me some wipes, please. I know you have them.”

He let out a little giggle before retrieving the assumed wipes from the glove compartment, helping you get clean. It wasn’t a thorough job but it did what it could. “Want me to take you home?”

“Might as well as payment,” you joked again, thinking it will get rid of this tension that still lingered. 

The ride went on in silence beside the radio’s pop music, consumed in your thoughts. It’s funny, you were used to being the type to always have to say something in any conversation, but with Chan right now, you had nothing, forcing the quiet until you arrived home. He parked his car, letting you know personally he arrived where the GPS said and you look off at one another, noting how his hair was still messy from an earlier event and you can’t help but fix it.

“Don’t want you caught,” You chuckled, moving your hands through until it was in proper Chan form. “There.”

“Hold on.”

His hand reached over your face. Thinking it was for another liplock, you stayed seated, prepared for the cushion of his lips as you pursed yours. Instead, he’s wiping away whatever it was from the corner of your lips, staring back at you with the sparkle in his eyes. “You got something there.”

“Um, Chan…I’m not wearing anything on my lips.”

“I-I knew that—,” You crushed your lips against him one last time, the salty-sweet taste of want from your tongue lingered on his, and you exit the car to never see him again. Or so you thought.

Was it the best sex you ever had up until now? No, definitely not. Was it good sex? Yes, way better than you anticipated. Then again you were comparing it to your ex, and at that point, anyone’s dick was the next coming of Jesus the more you think about it. 

“God, Chan grew up so hot,” Minnie gushed.

“I’ll say,” you agreed in reflex, “I mean, he sure looks different.”

“Different? They’re like two separate people,” She said, biting her lip, “Is it weird I wanna call him over again?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes at your answer before flipping through the pages while you were still processing this information. You’ve had time to forget it happened and have had plenty of sex after then, but Chan will always be a little special. And you’d be lying if you weren’t the tiniest curious about how he turned out after all this time. It was hard to believe he's who he is now.

Since then and after some light stalking, you found out the college he attended was a neighboring one. He took part in a popular frat (gamma, omega, theta, whatever) that, surprise surprise, hosted some of the biggest parties that even students from your university attended. He just so happens to be one of the members actively posted on the site surrounded by hot people with his gorgeous blonde lip piercing ass. Goddamn, it.

Okay, that’s it. You can stop right there. No need to dig any deeper. Besides, he’s just some guy you hooked up with once (a great once for his first time), just once. That’s it. There’s no need for you to go all yourself like you used to do for your exes. This was just Lee Chan.

“Hi there, you’re Minnie’s roommate.” You found Lee Chan grinning back at you with a stack of fliers in his hands as you walked the neighboring streets that you conveniently heard he’d be around. Social media is a curse. “We have a charity event where all proceeds will be going to feed the starving homeless at a couple of shelters down in the area.”

You accepted the flier and tucked it under your pit as you crossed your arms in a questioning manner. “When were you going to let me know?”

“Ah,” his smile stretched wider as his hand slapped against the stack before clutching it to his chest, “took you long enough.”

“So what, you were just gonna wait until I realized it myself?”

“That was the idea, but I knew you were smart. You’d figure it out—charity event, we’ll keep you company,” he handed off the flyer to a pair of girls with an effortless wink before they’re scurrying off blushing a squealing.

“Isn’t this something the pledges do, what are you even doing out here?”

He stands beside you, a devious smile tattooed on his face, “I’m one of the people that manage social media. I pay attention to our activity feed and couldn’t help but see a like pop up and disappear in front of my very eyes.”

Your cheeks heat up, caught red-handed, “So you knew I’d be here and came out anyways.”

“Figured you wanted to talk,” he said, keeping his hands busy and eyes wide and charming.

“Why? Thinking about me?”

“You’re not someone that I could just stop thinking about, Y/n.”

Your name in his voice burned your ears, making you flick it away as if it were a bug. “Well, just came here because I remembered something I saw. That’s all. Go about your day.”

You’re about to storm off when he’s calling for you again and you shamelessly look back. His eyes turned up the way his smile does, sauntering over as he locked you in his trance. You were almost hypnotized by the sterling steel that looked so pullable you had to physically restrain yourself with pinches to your forearms. “You’re coming to the party.”

“Says who?”

He has this permanent playful expression, one that doesn’t recall down days or cram studying. He looked entirely carefree. So unlike the Chan from high school. “Says me. Plenty of booze, plenty of champagne, plenty of food, plenty of me to go around.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Kidding,” He laughed. “But don’t you think it’s rather serendipitous that we found each other again? After so many years?”

You squinted at him. “Yeah, sleeping with my roommate.”

“It’s like I somehow found my way back to you.”

“You have a hickey on your neck.”

His eyes shoot open, and a hand came over his neck, “Road bumps exist to get to our destination.”

“I lied, there was nothing there,” you said, not falling for his whimsy, ready to walk off again.

He chased after you, trying to lure you back with that smile he somehow found out you can get enough of. “Not fair, but fine. But don’t try to convince me you aren’t happy to see me. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“I…I don’t know why I came here. I didn’t know what I was expecting.”

He gave you a befuddled look. “What do you mean? It’s me. Chan. I thought maybe you’d be at least a little excited to see me.”

The Lee Chan you knew was so different from now, blonder, spunkier, riskier for the faint of heart. Your fair trade of relationships was a healthy amount, enough to know what you wanted and somehow it all lead back to Chan three years ago. Like it meant something to be joined in something intimate with him. Your eighteen yourself would be laughing at you right now at the thought of you yearning for Lee Chan of all people. Not that anything was wrong with him, just that Chan was Chan and you were you. And now Chan is Chan and you were, well, same old you.

“You…I’m not used to this.”

His brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You could read the offense as soon as it arrived, immediately coming to defend yourself. “I was excited to see you.”

“Well, I’m here. What’s the problem?” If you knew any better, he looked hurt.

“You’re like a whole other person. I don’t know this Chan.”

“Then get to know me. No offense, but you barely even knew that Chan.”

“I—,” he wasn’t wrong. You hardly spoke as classmates. Hell, the sex was the longest conversation you’ve ever had. Before that was him asking for directions to where the auditorium was since it was a part of campus he never visited, but you weren’t ignorant to him. You always noticed Chan. Just never in that light until the last minute. Yet, you missed that Chan. Not like you had any right to. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why do you already think that lowly of me? You think we can’t be in the same town breathing the same air as each other?”

“Chan, of course not.”

“I get it. Stranger dangers and all that shit right? But we’re a little more than strangers, aren’t we?”

For some reason, you couldn’t answer and instead stared down at your feet. He let out a frustrated sigh, in disbelief the carefree person he knew several years ago was this same person in front of him. “Is there a problem you have with me?”

Because he looks like a fuckboy and you avoid fuckboys like the plague now. Remember?

“I don’t know,” you crossed your arms.

He took a step forward, taking the flier folded against your arm and smoothing out the wrinkles before he placed it in your hand. “Well, it’s just a party. So come. See me, ignore me, drink your heart out. Whatever, but come.”

He gave you one last bittersweet smile before deciding to walk off, following his frat brother who was already far ahead of him.

There was a tug of war between your mind and body, fighting the internal conflicts that make you hesitant to reconnect with Chan again. There’s no doubt a piece of you still hoped for the old Chan that lingered in your mind throughout all these years and the imminent lure of new Chan who was just the embodiment of every red flag you’ve ever seen in your past relationships.

Saying going to this party is a mistake would be an understatement.

“Oh my gosh, it looks so pretty here!”

You came arm in arm with Minnie, admiring the aesthetic light fixtures on the walls, while wearing the nicest garb you could conjure up from your closet. It was a navy blue dress in crushed velvet that hits you right at your ankles that could only be paired with a light pair of heels for the night to go on a little easier. You mused around at the decorations, impressed with the craftsmanship, surprised this was an event planned by college bros obsessed with Greek life. “It does look nice here.”

One block heel over the other, you were subconsciously scanning for a bright blonde head in sight. Instead, you were surrounded by several familiar faces of his members in suits and ties, remembering seeing them all over the Fraternity’s Instagram. They greeted you as hosts do and two of them took you and Minnie to unoccupied seats. The person that guided you to your seat, Seokmin, offered you a refreshment, while Soonyoung, Minnie’s guide, did the same for her. Once they had disappeared for a few minutes, Minnie could do nothing but gush over their looks.

“They’re so cute! Oh, do you think they’d wanna double date us?” Minnie asked with her eyes cheery and bright.

You looked back at the pamphlet and the itinerary, pointing at something peculiar. “Maybe, if we win the date auction with them.”

“Boo, I’m broke,” she pouted, “I’ll just have to charm myself the way I always do.”

You chuckled at her delight before the boys returned and chatted you up for the time being. You remained mostly cordial while Minnie brought in the charm she’s so famous for and amidst the jokes and lighthearted pandering, the awaited blonde is seen entering, greeting other guests that have made their arrival.

Your chest felt light, letting out a sigh of relief as though Lee Chan’s appearance made the event all the more tolerable, and maybe it had. However, it’s tightened as soon as you realize how incredibly his body fits the cream-colored suit, reminding you of white chocolate. Decadent and unique on your tongue, echos of his moans so familiar infiltrate the busiest part of your brain, blocking out background noises and images other than Lee Chan.

“All good, Y/n?” Seokmin so politely asked.

In a broken trance, you turned to them and nodded, seeing Minnie doubtful of your answer. You started getting from your chair, apologizing. “I’m fine. I think I saw my friend? You guys keep chatting. I’ll be back.”

You escorted yourself, smoothing the wrinkles of your dress before approaching him out of his view. He doesn’t suspect the anxious figure walking up to him, attention focused on other company while giving them that dazzling toothpaste smile on his face. As you tapped on his shoulder, he turned to you, melting into a soft, long gaze once he drank in your appearance. He politely excused himself from his previous company and offered you his elbow. Pleasantly surprised, you took it with stride, interlocking through, and quietly followed him somewhere a bit more private (as private as it can be in a semi-public event). “You look ravishing,” He whispered only loud enough for you to hear. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled flushed, arm wrapping tighter around him, “You look really put together like this.”

“‘Put together?’ Way to damper a guy’s confidence,” he laughed, feigning offense.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“It’d be nice to hear it too.”

You exhaled, “You look really…handsome, Chan.”

A peaceful smile grazed his face. “Better. So, did you take a look at the itinerary?”

You nodded, twiddling your fingers before conjuring up the courage to ask, “Are you going to be in that auction?”

“Straight to it,” he chuckled melodiously, “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing like that, just curious.”

He shrugged. “Well, I will be one of the dates for the auction. Get your wallet ready.”

You lightly nudged him, chuckling, “You wish.”

“I do wish.” His lips neared your ear. “Maybe you winning is my end goal.”

Feeling the heat radiate off your cheeks, you shove him off of you away from innocent bystanders. “You’re so funny.”

“It’s my best asset,” he said, joining your arms back again. “Winner gets a weekend date of their choice with a budget of $75. Tempting, isn’t it?”

“You would be one to think so.”

“I’d make our date worthwhile.”

His dark temptation sent chills down your spine and you punched his arm, hard. “Stop it.”

“Stop what,” he teased, rubbing his likely bruised arm.

“Being this.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Why are you bothered by me? Be honest.”

You sighed, loosening the grip on his arm. “You were right and I don’t know you. I never really did. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you. It’s just strange to see someone I saw one way again after a few years and you’re completely different.”

“You don’t like the way I look?”

You shook your head. “No. In fact the opposite, I like it so because it reminds me of so many of the people I’ve been with, but I don’t want you to be any of them. I want you to be Chan.”

“I am Chan,” He said, taking you aside and holding your hand in his. “Just because I look a certain way doesn’t make me any less me. But I’m flattered you think so much about me.”

“What do you even get out of this?” You changed the subject. “Inviting me to places, talking sweet, and being nice to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, an unsure smile on his face. “Okay, so maybe, I felt something when I saw you again.”

“Just like you felt something when you saw Minnie?” You snapped.

“...That’s not what this is,” he answered seriously.

“What is it then?”

He gave you a grim expression. “I’m not sure either.”

“Be honest, Chan. How often is it that you go on dates, or hook up with someone like you did with Minnie?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Because it is. How would I be any different than that? What makes me different from everyone else?”

“Because you’re not like anyone else.” He answered definitely.

Before you could ask him what he meant, Chan is pulled away by the other members of his frat to get him prepared for the auction coming up soon. He graced you with a bitter smile before disappearing behind doors where you’re forced to rejoin Minnie and the boys you left behind. They asked if you were alright, to which you less than sublimely answered, but they didn’t push it.

You tried being good company the rest of the night, making small jokes, greeting new people, and taking advantage of the catering that is surprisingly better than you expected. Yet, Chan was still running rampant in your mind. The auction was seconds away from starting and he would be there on that stage just like everyone else, devastatingly handsome and charming that you could melt in a puddle. You somehow come with several glasses of champagne that night to the point Minnie issued you an end to it by force-feeding you water to sober up. It doesn’t work that well.

The stage lights turned on and music loudly played in the background. A man in a suit different from the rest began introducing potential suitors available for auction, including the friendly members you’ve come to know this evening, who waved back at your table when they got on stage. It goes for a few hours so far and the Greek house has accumulated several thousands of dollars in funds. Meanwhile, your sobriety was gradually replenishing over time until the announcement of the next auction date would step on stage.

“Up next we have is Lee Chan, respected brother and life of the party!”

The blonde stepped on stage with fierce charisma, smiling and waving like it was his own red carpet, even striking a few poses for good measure. The emcee goes on about qualities you already knew and some you didn’t as the slideshow is off in the background like it was for all of the previous dates on stage. That’s when the show really began for you. Photographs of Chan playing basketball, obviously playing for team skins, as his hair bundled up in a sweaty, sexy mess. They were the kind of pictures people used for body fitness inspiration or just plain inspiration because what better motivation could one have other than the bare torso of Lee Chan. 

Cheers of encouragement cause a deep blush to appear on his gorgeous face, and you swear you saw him tug anxiously at his lip ring in the most delectable way. You stifled a breath, heart pitter-pattering like rain in a violent storm. “Holy—“

“Shit,” Minnie breathed out, “Go, Chan.”

You suddenly remembered who and where you were, wiping away your drool before it was visible.

“Let’s start out the bidding at $50.”

“$100!”

“$150!”

“$250!”

“Woah, woah, looks like we already got a couple of takers. Are we hearing a $255?”

The longer that went on the more severe the anxiety was bubbling up inside you. The numbers only got higher and higher, louder and louder, taunting your inhibitions. Before you knew it, you’re jumping up from your seat in a clearly unsober but confident state screaming, “One thousand dollars” from the top of your lungs. Chan looked in your direction, shocked, eyes wide as doe while his lips started parting in a small smile, a reasonable surprise considering the mixed signals you were giving.

You weren’t sure what you were doing since there was no way you had that kind of money, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The higher the bid, the higher the influence. You couldn’t deny it anymore. You were falling under a similar spell they were all under. You had to do everything you could to—

“Two thousand dollars.”

Your gaze swung in the voice's direction to a gorgeous girl standing a few feet from you, beaming with confidence. You slumped down in your shame while the emcee congratulated the highest bidder and shy Chan for reeling in the highest amount of money so far tonight. 

The hours after just drone on, just as much as champagne did and there you were pathetic and sad to have lost. Minnie doesn’t know how you keep finding refreshments for yourself, she blames the eyes candies willfully distracting her. “Okay, seriously stop. I will ban you from alcohol for life.” Minnie carried you off outside, hugging you to her as she went to listen to your unnecessary babble.

“He was mine…”

“I know, sweetie, but she was paying a month and a half’s rent. No way we could’ve paid for that.” Your whines muffled in her shoulder, mumbling something about “fuck the rich” before you started to cry. Even Minnie found it embarrassing.

“Want me to take over?”

Chan is the first person you laid your eyes on coming up from the surface of your drunk childish tantrum, making you wipe the tears away from your eyes in a hurry. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” he said lethally soft.

“Hi!” Smiling at you both before getting up from her seat. “Usually, I wouldn’t approve of letting my girl alone with a frat boy while intoxicated but I have her location on and I know where you live. So, take good care of her or I’ll kill you.”

He gave her a gregarious nod before waving. “Bye, Minnie.”

“Bye, Chan. No more drinks, Y/n.”

She left you to Chan, following after Soonyoung and Seokmin who were surprisingly waiting for her by the door. Good for her, you thought.

“That was stupid of you,” He said sitting next to you.

“Tell me about it.”

“Did you even have $1000?”

Pouting, you shook your head. “No, but I wanted to win.”

“You wanted to win me?” He said smiling.

“Yes, isn’t it that obvious?” Your head fell against his broad welcoming shoulder. You let out a long low breath at that, clutched the breast of your dress as you tried your damnedest to breathe. You were aware of your heart rate, pounding away at your chest like a drum. Your weight pushed against him but made no change to his posture. He was like a boulder that chipped away at your weakness and made you ache for his fullness no matter how much your head told you otherwise. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing what?”

“Be…this. And make me crazy about you.”

His head turned down to see your face, warm brown eyes staring back into yours. “I could say the same about you. You have sex with me once years ago, give all the time in the world to recreate a feeling like it, just to chase me back when I think I’m finally forgetting about you? Diabolical of you.”

You thought you’ve heard it all before. Usually, sweet nothings go to one ear and out the other. Many of those sugar-coated words and phrases have blended into something homogenous, overplayed tactics that got you into loveless relationships fueled by sex and desire. Who knows if Chan is different, but the words he speaks, and the burning he gives you, you wanted every little bit of it. You grasped his lapel, pushing your face closer. “You thought about me?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying this entire t–”

Your patience soon wore thin. His lips tasted sweet like nectar, felt soft as pillows, warm as the summer. The heat of his skin was in stark contrast to the cool steel of his lip ring expectedly grazing your skin, churning whatever it was in your stomach. You attempted to gain leverage control, thirsting more, but you learned soon his muscles weren’t just for show. “You’re drunk, Y/n.”

“But you taste so good…”

He took a deep breath before sighing. “Let’s just get you someplace to rest up and I can take you home after.”

Chan made good on his promise. As your body was giving in to sleep, your knight in blonde carried you off on his back to the nearest place of rest, which ended up being his bedroom that he luckily didn’t have to share. He laid you sprawled out on his thinly veiled mattress, tucking you underneath his blanket until he couldn’t see any inch of skin except your head up, and he let your soft airy snores play out.

He made his shower quick to return to you, relieving himself of the heavy suit he’s been wearing all night. He gets back to his room and placed the suit in the bag back into his closet. You’re still sound asleep as soon as he’s back but now stir in your sleep, staring to thrash around even. That made him come to your side in a hurry, trying to calm you down. He puts his hands on your body through the covers, soothing you to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, that is what makes you start to gain consciousness, pushing yourself to sit up from the bed. “Where am I?” 

“You’re awake, shit, sorry.”

“Chan?” You blinked back at him with tired eyes, barely focusing through the small slits of your vision to make out the man tending to your drowsy state.

“Yeah, you were really out of it? I had to make sure you were okay.”

“Shirtless?”

Chan looked down at his body to realize what you meant. He only came to the bathroom with a single pair of sweatpants with him fully intending to just throw a shirt on the moment he got back to the room. Now he was deeply regretting the decision seeing how awake you are. Grim at the thought of you perceiving him as some typical perverted college guy, which he was if not a little more respectful than most. “Sorry. I’ll put something on.”

You tugged him back by his wrist, stopping him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” He repeated, heart starting to take race in his chest.

You shook your head definitely. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

You shifted on the bed, realizing how you were still in your dress, subconsciously shrugging off the flimsy straps. Your hand traveled from his wrist and up his forearm. The hairs of his arms stood up at your touch and he sucked in shallow breaths as your hand smoothed over to the back of his neck effortlessly. Your finger threaded through his hair. There’s a look in your eyes, unlike the others you’ve shown so far since he’s reunited with you. They only come close with the gaze he say several years ago when you defiled his 18th birthday gift at a random peer’s graduation. “Lee Chan.”

He doesn’t want to fall for it, but damn it, did he want to be an idiot and just fall, fall hard. “You’re still drunk, maybe–”

“My Lee Chan…” God, did his heart throb.

“You’re definitely drunk.”

Your hand moved over to cup cheek, feeling how he instinctively nestled in your palm. His gaze softened back at you in this familiar way it did once back in the first time and both of you can’t help but call back to that night again. It’s like you’re right where you started, seconds away before melting into one another like hormonal teenagers.

“What are you doing to me now?” He asked so softly you almost didn't make it out.

If his body wasn’t already so goddamn enticing, it was the expression on his face. You could etch out the writhing on his face when you rode his body the first time, remembering how his strong thighs buckled at your touch, burning under the heat of your thighs. Your abdomen was physically contracting thinking about it.

“Kiss me, Chan.”

He doesn’t have the will to resist you any longer and he took the opportunity, crashing his lips into yours. You embraced his naked torso, clinging on to him and tugging against his piercing before pulling him towards you in bed with a thud. You didn’t know what true love felt like but it felt as half as good as Lee Chan, you’d risk your heart over and over again just to have it in your arms.

“Take it off for me,” you whispered once his hand landed on the zipper of your dress. The common plastic rubbed over your spine, and the sound of it traveling down pooled bountiful amounts of arousal in your core. You moaned against his lips helplessly, digging your nails through his scalp. 

His sweatpants did no good in hiding his aroused state as it poked back at your thigh coming out of the slit of your dress, groan at the pain you cause him but was pleased nonetheless. His hands come up your shoulder confidently, sliding down the rest of the material as it slid off the bed and hit the ground. Your knee came up behind him, pressing him down to reunite your curves and hollows as he moved to nip the skin at your clavicle, murmurs from lips occasionally leaving his lips.

“What was that?” you asked, already intoxicated in something other than alcohol for once tonight.

“I said, ‘I’ve been wanting to fuck you the moment I saw you again.’”

His voice exhibited a gravelly rasp, one you wouldn’t have expected knowing him, but fuck, if it didn’t make your pussy full-out throb. “Yeah,” you egged on, “You wanted to see if you still fit your cock in me?”

He gave out a low growl. “I forgot how annoying you were.”

“I guess not too annoying to fuck me full in the front seat of your Camry.”

“I miss that thing. Too many good memories.” His sigh fanned over the back of your neck before his lips sucked against the skin under your ear, causing you to crumble underneath him. “But it’s fine, I can make new memories. And I won’t be worried about breaking you this time.”

His hips dipped down in yours, teasing his bulge at your wet, clothed core before you’re thrusting back in whines. Your hand roamed through his blond locks, gripping like you were doing into your insanity, if only there were just as surprisingly healthy and strong. “Fuck me already. I want you to stuff me with your cock just like the last time.”

He shook his head, that smile of his filling your insides with need and desperation. “Thought I’d catch you up on a bit on how I’ve improved first.”

He trailed kisses down your body, hands caressing over your breast before your sides. You tremble as the pads of his fingers grazed the edges of your panties, pulling them down and off of your body leaving you nothing but nude. Your glistening arousal stared back at him like a limitless fountain of youth, inclination bubbling up inside of him. The back of his hand rubbed against the moisture of your folds, seeing you thoroughly coat him as he wrapped his lips against your thighs, moans ebbing from his lips and yours.

“Your pretty pussy is so wet for me. Just like I remember.” Your clit was squeezed between his fingers, swelling up so enticingly he just had to suck against it. You clenched your abdomen, calling out for him, “fucking hell,” and then his tongue was inside you as though it was digging for gold, “holy shit.”

The sounds he made were simply carnal, like he hadn’t been feeding for months and until now you could help but eat every second up as he devoured you entirely. Your toe curled, your breath stolen from, and your cunt flooded until you could overflow a dam. “I could eat your pussy all night, baby girl…if I knew you tasted this good…would’ve been the first thing I’d done to you.” His thumb presses on your clit, flicking it from side to side, and the stripes he ran up your slit become ravenous, monstrous, torturous.

“You’re gonna make me cum, please…”

“Already,” he teased, kissing your entrance, “I’ve barely started. Or are you saying because you’re such a slut for my cock?”

You winced as he pinched your clit, holding back tears. “No, no. I’m really about to—ah—cum…”

“Guess I should savor it when it arrives, shouldn't I?”

He ate you out until you’re practically screaming, the creak of the bed would be normally something that’d bother you, but his tongue is so tantalizing you don’t even notice. Meanwhile, his hands have taken over your breasts, squeezing them so possessively in each hand you feel like you’re truly his, and none otherwise.

“Such a pretty little mess…cum on my tongue, baby girl…I need you cumming in my mouth…” His pleas sounded dirty, desperate, devastating. Your whines cried out as you begged for more, pushing his face deeper into you, feeling the burn of your cheeks. “Shut…up—fuck!”

You involuntarily came in him as he wished. Painting the inside of his mouth with your milky climax, he laughed contently in your heat as he pulled away. Your cum stretched from your sopping pussy to his lips, forcing you to watch as he licked up the mess, starting with the collection from his cheeks. “Such a good slut for me,” he wiped the cum from the underside of his chin, putting his fingers between his mouth while groaning. “I needed this so bad with the week I’ve had.” 

He wounded himself tight around his digits, letting go with a ‘pop. “Especially with how confused and horny you make me…I’m gonna fuck your stupid cunt until you’re sure you want me just as much as I want you.”

He reached over his bedside to rip open a condom and rolled it on himself, giving you the glimpse you needed to be reminded of how big and delectable just Chan’s cock was. There he then held your legs until they folded against you, spreading you wide and perfect for him to fuck into. Plunging through your cum lubricated walls, he entered you with ease, the familiar sensation of your fluttering grip took him back to his youth. “Shit, that’s good.”

You suppress a moan, to which he scolded you by squeezing your cheeks, gripping your face harshly in his direction, and what he said next was enough to make you want to cum right there on the spot. “Don’t do that. I want you to be loud. I want everyone in this house to hear you while I fuck you senseless to the point you forget your name.”

Whoever dare says Lee Chan is a liar is the real liar because he knows how to keep a promise.

His body, heavy and strong, pressed you unto the mattress mercilessly, pounding out the cheap strings that were bound to break. Your screams of his name bounced off the thin walls, taking every stroke of his cock until you were mistaken for bloody murder. It wasn’t what you expected, and yet you couldn’t be happier to be wrong. Your head threw back at the claim of his hands on your hips, now pulling at you to manually use you for his bidding, only to bottom out in you repeatedly. “Fuck Chan…please…”

After having been told to let your vocal cords loose, you took it personally and screamed his name from the rooftops, which you might as well have done with how obnoxiously boisterous you were taking every gorgeous inch. 

“Good slut,” He flipped you on your stomach, only to rut into you deep. His hand caressed your back, “I’m a bit possessive if you can’t tell. Usually, I wouldn’t care if anyone heard, but with you, I can’t help but do care. I want everyone to know who it is you’re fucking. Who it is ruining you like this.”

“Shit, that’s so hot…” you whine, your ass cheeks burning in the rage of his hips.

“Say it for me then. Say how you like me inside you. Say how you like how I’m fucking you stupid.”

You choked on your words as he pushed in you without abandon, riling himself up at the anticipation of your words. “I love you inside me…I love how you fuck me so stupid, Chan…”

He pulled you up by your arm, his hands clenched your breasts, fondling them on his palms and pinching your pretty erect nipples as his sweaty, toned chest pressed against your back. “You listen to me so fucking well,” he landed a strike on your breast, causing you to moan in response, “I wish I could’ve been fucking you like this all the time. No one was ever like you.”

Your back arched into him, convulsing as you felt the stream of your climax rise up the surface again, controlling you much the way Chan did. As if Chan could read your mind, his lips pressed against your ear tenderly, fingers coming at your swollen clit to rub it pain-achingly perfect. “Do it, cum all over my cock, baby…I want–need you to cum so hard on my cock.”

Even when you cum another time, Chan’s stamina doesn’t cease and he’s asking for another. “Just one more” he pleaded. And he’s fucking you over and over again, until you’re in his lap, grinding on his hips with cock stuffed back inside you as his legs lifted up in repetitive thrusts to rearrange your insides. His tongue roamed in your mouth without abandon, lip ring still brushing against your kiss-swollen lips as he’s whimpering how good you clench around him or perfectly you whine for him in that mouthwatering infliction. “Your pussy’s so damn perfect. Shit, I’ll—fuck, oh god.”

Your pungent honey releases once more, while Chan, unfortunately, poured him into his into the rubber, having you silently mourn the waste. He clenched you against him, your twitch so tantalizing, he had to feel every spasm, kissing you sweetly until you were soothed into stability. He whispered praise of your beauty, your body, your efforts. Bad memories of others washed away with his presence, only allowing his acts of worshiping every inch of you.

“I’m happy I came tonight.”

Chan chuckled, thinking about the unintended innuendo, as he pressed your body nestled into his closer, “Me too. Next time we can do it again, maybe without the condom next time.”

“Not without testing I hope,” You said after hearing him giggle at the thought. Then his words are repeating in your head, ‘Next time.’ You weren’t about to make the same mistake you’re used to and because it was Chan, you were confident with him it’d be different. You held his fingers in yours, lacing them through before pressing them to your lips, “Next time as in the next time we fuck or the next time we’re together?”

He softly smiled. “Looks like someone has a crush.”

“Ugh, fuck you.”

You let go of his hands, initiating his boisterous laughter and euphoria-inducing smile as he spooned your bare backside. “Next time we’re together. After I take you on a proper date that is.”

“What about your auction date?”

He sighed, suddenly remembering that. “It’s unavoidable, unfortunately, but I’ll promise to come to see you right after and show you what things I rather do to you than anyone else.”

“That a promise?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

You turned around to face him again and pressed your hands against his soft and supple cheeks, kissing his lips long and languidly. “You’re so cute.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, pulling you by the waist, “I thought the blonde and piercing would change that.”

“You’ll never not be cute. Everything cute about you I’ll l-adore.”

“You were going to say something else.”

“I wasn’t.” You denied.

“Oh my god,” he gripped tighter around, enough to almost suffocate you, “you love me.”

You flailed in his grip. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, you so love me,” He sang.

“Shut up, I don’t,” You rolled your eyes, “but I do end up loving someone, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you first.”

“Is that a promise to one day love me? To have and to hold?” He teases, secretly hopefully.

“Let’s say it’s wishful thinking. All Lee Chans in needs love too.”

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, someone will make sense of it.”

[silent-stories]

I'm with the band

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) reader has long hair, mention of drugs.

"There are too many people out there,” Eddie said nervously, aimlessly pacing in the backstage for the fourth time, nearly colliding with the other band members who were getting ready to go on stage.

He wasn’t wrong; the Hideout had never been this crowded, and you were the one to thank (or to blame). You had invited Robin to come see Corroded Coffin play that night, and she had called Vickie, who in turn had invited some of her friends. While chatting with Robin, Nancy and Jonathan overheard and joined in (despite Nancy not seeming thrilled about “listening to four guys scream all night”), and Jonathan had invited his quirky friend visiting from California too, who brought along more friends.

In short, friends had invited more friends, and they, in turn, had invited others, making the place more packed than it had ever been.

Eddie’s dark curls bounced on his shoulders with each step, and his self-cropped Anthrax t-shirt, cut with kitchen scissors a few days prior, revealed a sliver of his stomach.

Jeff rolled his eyes and walked away. He wasn’t ready to hear Eddie give the same speech for the fifth time in half an hour.

“Eddie, can you stop for a moment?” you got up from the old armchair where you’d been sitting since they let you into the backstage area that evening.

You grabbed a drumstick Gareth had left on the table and used it to secure your hair into something that was supposed to be a messy bun. It was a habit you’d picked up a few weeks ago, and you were pretty sure your drummer friend was starting to hate you for it.

"Eddie,” you repeated his name when you reached him, placing your hands on his arms to stop him. “It's gonna be okay.”

He let out a long sigh, wondering if you were aware that your touch alone could calm him in seconds, more effectively than hundreds of words ever could. When your hands returned to your sides, he already missed that contact.

He stared at you for a moment, his brown eyes filled with insecurity. “No,” he shook his head.

“Eds, you need to stay calm. They’ll like you, and-”

“Sweetheart, no one likes us. You’re the only person who claps every time we play here.”

“Because the other times, there wasn’t enough audience! This time will be different, trust me.”

“The last time I played in front of so many people, I was in middle school, and the whole school laughed at me. I’m not ready to experience that again.”

Eddie saw how your expression softened and worried at the same time, and he almost wished he hadn’t said it.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than his quick pacing had already done. “God, I really need a joint right now.”

You let out a little laugh at that comment, and one corner of Eddie’s lips involuntarily lifted. The sound of your laughter always made him happier.

“No, all you need is a friend who tells you that you’ll rock it and that everything will be fine. And I’m here now, telling you that.” You stood on tiptoe to fix a stray curl.

“Trust me, please?” When you looked at him like that he couldn't help but believe you, or at least try. You always believed in him.

"Okay."

You smiled. God, you were so pretty and he had been so anxious that night that he hadn't even remembered to tell you.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He repeated, more confident this time.

Somewhere behind you you heard Jeff shout. "Five minutes and we're on stage!"

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed.

"Eddie. Eds, look at me. You have to promise me two things before you go out there. I'm serious."

Eddie remained silent, nodding slightly.

"The first is that whatever people do, think or say, you have to remember that it won't define you. I know who you are. I know what you're worth. I don't give a shit about them. A shit. Zero. Nada."

Eddie chuckled. "Second thing?"

"Second thing is, when you're famous you'll let me come on tour with you."

Eddie laughed, for real this time. Those dimples that you loved so much have appeared on his face. "You said you were serious!"

"Oh and I am! One hundred percent!"

Eddie, still laughing, placed his hand over his heart, as if swearing a solemn oath. "I promise on my honor."

"Okay, I'm happy now."

"I wouldn't go anywhere without you anyway. You're pretty much an integral part of the band now. I planned on kidnapping you in case I ever left town but you make things a lot easier now."

"Well, I guess you won't need it."

"Two minutes!" Jeff shouted.

"I think I have to go now."

You nodded, a smile still on your lips.

"C'mere." He quickly said before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest in a hug.

You inhaled his scent for a few seconds, it was smoke and cheap beer, like all the other times. For you, there was nothing better.

After a moment, you slightly pulled away but his hand was still on your back, as if he wasn't ready to let you go, and you found yourself looking into his chocolate brown eyes trying to figure out what was happening.

His gaze wasn't on your eyes though. It seemed like your mouth had caught his attention.

When you realized his lips were so close to yours that you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, a voice interrupted the moment.

You cleared your throat as Eddie took a step back.

"My drum stick!" Gareth repeated, a bit of frustration but also amazement because of what he had just seen in his voice, moving his gaze between the two of you.

"Fuck, you're right." You murmured, pulling it out of your hair and handing it to him. You had completely forgotten about it.

Gareth looked at his friend. "Are you coming with us or you two want to get a room?"

"Yes, no, I mean. I'm coming, fuck, I mean. I'm ready. All ready. Yes. Ready."

You giggled when you saw a light shade of red on his cheeks.

"I'll be cheering for you in the front row, you know that."

"I know. Thank you sweetheart."

He looked at you one last time before following Gareth onto the stage.

You stood there for a second. Wondering what the hell just happened.

Then you left the backstage.

[cevansbrat0007]

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits. 

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch. 

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.” 

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections. 

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough. 

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment. 

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him. 

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair. 

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms. 

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but. 

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive. 

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.    

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck. 

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes. 

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat. 

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it. 

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.” 

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”   

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?” 

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him. 

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –” 

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin. 

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

���Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss. 

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor. 

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.   

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

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blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed.  Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop.  There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table.  If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place.  The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces.  The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure.  The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest.  The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her.  As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her.  She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job.  She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall.  Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention.  His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise.  Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses.  Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor.  As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party.  She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?” 

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter.  The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’.  But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind.  Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face.  (y/n).  Certainly fitting.  Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers.  Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter.  “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face.  He prays it’s not  noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way.  She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly.  It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently.  “No offense though, these are gorgeous.  I have to say I really outdid myself” 

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it.  Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid.  “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret.  Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s.  “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon.  Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection.  He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before.  Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him.  The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack.  “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend.  She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see.  I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses.  Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident.  “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance.  Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more.  Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them.  “They’re going to laugh at me” 

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head.  “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet.  She’ll understand.  It’s a very kind gesture” 

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better.  Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake.  “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time” 

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment.  She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers.  She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well.  He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers.  As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,” 

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine.  The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?” 

And of course her first question is that one.  He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday” 

Which is an odd choice of lie.  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago.  But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought.  “Do you know what she likes?” 

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop.  “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit.  “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,” 

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them.  Oh, so those were orchids.  Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement.  “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?” 

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop.  He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more.  Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent.  Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it.  Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before. 

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly.  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands.  It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out.  “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first” 

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly.  (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly.  Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?” 

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands.  Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking.  Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement.  He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting.  “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand.  “I think your mother would adore these.  I certainly do” 

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids.  “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?” 

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets.  More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits.  “I don’t really know what else to give her.  But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up” 

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be.  “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift.  Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face.  “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?” 

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses.  (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.  

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears.  She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement.  He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” 

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number.  He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,” 

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.  He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before.  He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his.  His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here.  “But everyone just calls me (y/n)” 

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud.  “You can just call me Kento, then” 

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable.  He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?” 

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking.  “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed.  They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways” 

“I don’t consider that fair-” 

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding.  That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him.  It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart.  “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door.  “I’ll let you know how much she loves them” 

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window.  She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind.  The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!” 

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly.  Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it.  He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly.  “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks.  “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face.  He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions.  He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs.  “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform.  He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously.  “In a good way or a bad way?” 

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically.  “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?” 

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more.  “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours.  Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises.  Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort.  But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers.  “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-” 

“I thought you were an only child?” 

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant.  A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling.  He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is.  Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation.  “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else.  The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line.  She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  She’s amused.  And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face.  “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in” 

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease.  His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations.  Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully.  (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it.  “I did just… want to come and see you” 

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly.  “You’re my favorite customer, you know” 

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises.  “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies” 

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move.  That would be Gojo.  He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either.  That was Shoko’s move.  Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move.  Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her.  “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner”  ___

bonus: 

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store” 

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her.  “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy.  Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes.  It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert.  Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way.  The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly.  She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper.  “Just my favorite ones” 

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter.  His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them.  He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[graves-simper]

What really happened in Room 302?

Yes, just like everyone else I am finally doing a small essay/analysis on TCOAAL.

This time I wanted to dive in something that wasn't a big part of the game, but has been on my mind since my first play through of the game and that is like the title states; What really happened in Room 302? Lets begin.

I wanted to start off by talking about the Lady in Room 302. Who is she?

We really don't know much. Her eye color isn't shown, she looks somewhat average but in terms of others opinions (ie; the Warden's and even Ashley) She is a very pretty woman. Even at a point Andrew says that she looks good. Take a look at some of the dialog below:

I mean, wasn't she?

After this very tasteful conversation these two love-birds have, Ashley heads up to commence the ritual to sacrifice the 2nd Warden, and of course Our Ashley pulls it off with no problems, and back downstairs she goes with full intentions of painting the wall with Lady 302's brains, but it appears someone beat her to the punch.

AND NOW I PRESENT WHERE I IMMEDIATELY BEGAN TO CALL CAP ON MR. DOORMAT EXTRAORDINAIRE AND HIS SILLY LITTLE LIES.

Your honor, this man is absolutely lying. The first thing that made me question everything about his story here is where she is lying dead. On the damn bed. Your honor, let's enhance this real quick.

That nail gun is a damn good several feet away from where Lady 302 lies dead on the bed. In fact it is in exactly the same position as when we left Andrew alone with her, and look at the sheer distance. These apartments clearly aren't huge but let me just be critical for a minute. Her mattress appears to be a single style mattress, so lets take in some measurements.

I can settle on the length being 75" or 6.25ft. So the apartment is about 12 feet wide. Not huge by any means, but to go from sitting down on a bed, even the edge, she would have to make quite the lunge while accounting for some random maniac being right next to you with a meat cleaver. I also do not think she would be the type to risk her life for a daring escape. Look at how absolutely bewildered she is the second Andrew rushes her.

That is NOT the face of someone who is absolutely down to fuck around and find out. She also had a chance to get help while also risking her life, when she is given the radio she could have screamed for help, and while yes she would've died, at this point I would say the risk factor was relatively similar.

Now that I have established my reasoning for why I don't think this lady tried to kill Andrew with a nailgun or even had the chance to, let's go over some of the reasons I think he DID choose to kill her.

No Witnesses.

This is a very boring theory but I have to bring it up no less. I think there is a good chance he just said fuck it, and killed her for the sake of not leaving evidence behind. She saw their faces, heard their names, and they even said they were her neighbor from upstairs. Leaving her behind could've ruined EVERYTHING for them after this point, and based on Ashley's sour reaction to her mere existence, I think he already knew damn well Ashley would want her dead too.

Make my Ashley happy.

This ties back to the point I made in No Witnesses. Ashley took her as a threat, and obviously Andrew noticed. She was not pleased after he called her "Pretty". I think once he was alone, he figured he would off her to show Ashley that he wasn't ogling her or wanting to do anything with her. In fact she meant so little to him, he butchered her right on her bed. To support this, the way Ashley reacts when she returns absolutely floors Andrew, he is calm about what happened but Ashley is still coming up with thoughts that he tried to fuck her, when in his mind, he was probably hoping she would be thrilled that he killed this awful, hell-bound, hussie. But instead she is still somehow mad despite her being now a corpse. He becomes to fed up that even though he did what she would've anyways, it is somehow not good enough for her. (I will dive deeper into this interaction below with another theory that relies heavily on this.)

The Hussie hit on him.

This one ties into Make my Ashley happy. There is a good chance this obviously sexually attractive woman tried seducing Andrew while they were alone. She had no problem doing it with the Warden's to get better treatment, and I have no doubt this was her go-to get out of trouble free card. This charming young man would surely fall for her good looks right? Right? There's two thought processes that would make this reasonable. 1. He was worried how Ashley would react if she walked in with her clearly flirting with him and how that would make her feel. 2. My personal favorite of these two, he is dedicated to Ashley and was offended by her advances and killed her in a show of devotion to her.

Now that we have the more sane theories out of the way, lets get to the GOOD STUFF.

Andrew's Fantasy.

This theory is more of a mental guess as to Andrew's relationship and views of Ashley. He has been clearly fed up with her more than once up to this point, having arguments, dealing with her shit, and all the trauma he just experienced from starving for weeks, isolation, and having to butcher and eat someone, and then murder a man to save her.

What if once Andrew had a moment alone with someone who was essentially his victim, he decided to truly see how he felt about something. I believe Andrew may have not seen Lady 302 as Ashley, but just for the hell of it, imagined that she was Ashley. Despite the different appearances, I'm sure he could overlook it in the state of mind he was in at this point, and decided how it would feel to finally kill "Ashley". The way he kills her just doesn't feel like he said fuck it and wanted the lady dead, she is laid out on the bed, there's no signs of a struggle either. Later in the game during one of the visions, there is the one where Andrew finally kills Ashley. When she accepts that he will kill her, he brings the cleaver to her throat similarly to how the throat of Lady 302 was cut. The similarities just feel so similar that I had to bring this up despite it being possibly far fetched but that's what makes these fun!

and now for my most absolutely far fetched theory yet.

Don't these two look similar?

This theory is much more far fetched but hear me out on this!

I know this may be a result of Nemlei's artstyle but these two have some stark similarities in my opinion. Both blonde, same eye color based on the greyscale of them, similar hair parting, and a similar face shape.

After all the trauma Andrew went through in the weeks locked in their apartment and then killing several people and eating one no doubt sent his brain to a bad place.

I think after all that hell he endured he may have simply had a breaking point and felt like he saw a ghost or just the stark similarities between Lady 302 and Nina just made something snap.

I want to back this up by making a point to the story telling in the game. Before they go and escape their apartment conveniently before the Room 302 incident, there is a dream about how Andrew and Ashley killed Nina. This could be just the flow of the story telling however, I feel like it was a lead up to what really happened in Room 302. It just feels too perfect to include that scene right before he kills someone who I am assuming is what Nina may have grown up to look like, AND then with this scene occurring once Ashley returns almost feels like a nail in the coffin of this theory.

Nina isn't brought up in the apartment, or once they're in the motel. Nina is brought up during a heated exchange in Room 302 right after Andrew might have felt as if he killed Nina once again, yet just like when they killed Nina, Ashley still somehow thinks that Andrew has a thing for a woman he helped kill, and this absolutely drives him off his fucking rocker.

This exchange floored Mr. Doormat so intensely he finally was ready to absolutely throttle the life out of her. Andrew was finally so fed up with being berated for doing things for Ashley's sake he just wanted it to be done and over with forever. Andrew once again found himself in the same place Ashley put him in all those years ago, but this time he knows he isn't as vulnerable as he was and uses it to his advantage, but after their little squabble, they leave together to bless our hearts with Chapter 2.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps this was as plain as the story made it out to be. There is a good chance that Andrew didn't want to leave a witness and said hell with it and butchered the woman in Room 302. But I'd like to believe that with all the hidden details Nemlei has scattered throughout this game that there is truth to one of these theories, hell maybe even a giant jumble of them all together is the true story of Room 302.

But with everything I presented today I hope you all perhaps are too questioning what really happened in Room 302 like I was.

I'd love to hear any theories you guys have regarding this or twists/opinions on the ones I presented here!

Thank you all for reading!

[the-odd-shu]

No one is coming to save me (Silco x Reader)

Previous Part <- Part 2 -> Next Part

Masterlist:

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Word Count: 12k

Summary: Reader is not beating the stray cat allegations, and a lot of charged looks are exchanged.

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

Every year, Piltover had the same celebration of fireworks and obnoxiously loud music to commemorate the shifting of the summer into autumn.

Every year, the sounds and smells of laughter and good food wafted across the bridge to taunt those living in the Undercity. It was a gross reminder of the financial divide between the opposing sides of the river. The bountiful top, laughing at the pitiful bottom feeders. 

You hated them. Gods, you hated them so much. With their fancy clothes, and their obnoxious businesses and ridiculous delicacies- 

A kick to your stool jolted you out of your thoughts. 

You blinked, frowning when you registered that Vander had disappeared from the other side of the bar. The lights had been dimmed, whereas the bottles lining the far walls had all been neatly returned to their rightful places. The stools to your right were also suspiciously empty of Silco and Felicia, who you swore had been there bickering just moments before with Connol watching on in amusement.

Frowning, you turned to find Felicia dressed in a heavy overcoat and hat grinning down at you. She had left her coat open, displaying her belly which was significantly bigger than it had been a couple months ago. From what you had heard, the babe was growing well, which was better luck than the majority of Zaun’s pregnancies. 

“What?” You barked, voice tired and quiet. Perhaps it was closing time already and you hadn’t noticed- “Stop moping, the others are waiting.” You blinked, hand tightening around your mostly empty glass. “Waiting for what?” “For you of course!” Felicia scoffed, pulling a hand from her coat pocket to tug at your sleeve. You were quick to push her hand away, eyes narrowed warningly. She rolled her eyes. “Come on! Or we’re going to miss the fireworks.” With that, she promptly turned on her heel and began striding for the front door. 

You watched her stride away with drawn eyebrows. Zaunites weren’t allowed onto Piltover soil during the festivities - not that it was an official law, but the Enforcers lining both sides of the bridge were often a pretty obvious display of intent. Whereas lining the riverbank at this late hour to watch, would be a cold and uncomfortable affair-

“Come ON!” Felicia barked from the door, which she was holding open, revealing her partner, Connel, Vander and Silco all waiting out on the doorstep. All of them were wrapped up warm against the chill in the air.

Connol had been with Felicia tonight when you decided to turn up, which probably should have been your first indication that tonight was different. Usually, whilst Felicia would stop by the bar for a drink and a chat after her long shift in the mines, Connol would head straight home to sleep off his exhaustion. Your paths scarcely crossed because of it. 

When had they all gotten out there?

Confused, you shot one last uneasy look across the empty bar, alarm bells going off in the back of your mind. You should have been more perceptive than this. It used to be that someone’s breathing would shift in tempo, and you’d be the first to know they were displeased. And now, these people were carrying out entire tasks, leaving rooms and sneaking up on you without you so much as registering their footsteps. 

You were becoming complacent, you realised. Too comfortable.

Felicia loudly called your name again; the warning in her tone growing more severe. 

Deciding to just go along with it, you slipped off your stool to follow. Something told you that regardless of how you spun it, you were about to be dragged kicking and screaming into a family tradition regardless. And somehow you knew that even making a run for it would not spare you from what was to come.

Your dinner sat heavy and warm in your belly, prepared and served by Vander as usual alongside the others. It warmed you from the inside out, as you wrapped your flimsy jacket a little tighter around yourself and stepped out of the building. 

The autumnal chill hit you like a wall, immediately biting at your cheeks and causing your breath to fog in front of your nose.

Gods, you must have been in the bar long enough to forget just how unforgivingly cold it was getting after sundown. You could already tell that you were in for an uncomfortable night huddled under your blanket, when you eventually returned to your apartment.

As you shuffled further away from the heavenly warmth of the bar, Vander stepped around you to lock the doors. 

“Are you going to be warm enough in that?” He absently commented, as the lock turned. “I’ll be fine, Dad.” You replied mockingly, to which his brows jumped up.

Then he shrugged, stepping back and shoving the key deep into the pocket of his thick coat. “Fine, freeze. Just know I’ll be the first to say I told you so.” He said simply before turning on his booted heel and leading the way across the weirdly empty square.

Felicia promptly looped her arm into Connol’s and followed right on Vander’s heels, whilst Silco fell into step three paces behind, also wrapped up in a coat, with a red blanket neatly folded under his arm where his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

A tiny part of you wanted to slip away whilst their backs were turned. That life-long instinct to not follow strangers to secondary locations rearing its ugly head. But you promptly squashed the thought. These weren’t strangers anymore, and you kind of knew where they were leading you anyway. 

Shrugging to yourself, and silently deciding to slip away should things take a turn, you followed. 

Vander led the little group down several streets, turning down seemingly random side roads without checking the street signs. The others seemed not to care. Felicia was easily carrying the conversation, and took it upon herself to drag Silco or Vander in whenever she wanted to make a point against Connol, who watched her prattle and talk with such a soft look that it made you feel raw just watching him watch her. 

You were so engrossed in observing them interact with one another, that it surprised you when Vander abruptly paused at the mouth of a seemingly random alleyway.

“Ah, here we are.” He mused, before striding confidently into the darkness.

To your bafflement, the others didn’t so much as hesitate in following him in, one after the other. Brows drawn together, you paused before the opening between the two buildings, eyes jumping from Silco’s disappearing back to the stretches of empty street on either side of you. There was a measly streetlamp at the end of the path to your left, and nothing else. It would be the perfect place for an ambush. 

Felicia’s impatient call of your name made you jump. “Stop being edgy and get your ass down here, Alley Cat. Safety in numbers and all that shit.”

You huffed a laugh at the insult, before gathering your whits and following. 

The alley was tight. Barely wide enough for one person to slip through, with tall, dirty brick walls towering high above. And it was dark, which meant you had no choice but to skim a few fingers along the ragged brickwork to follow the path. It was deceptively twisty, you swiftly discovered.

All too quickly, the alley widened out again, and you found yourself in a small pouch of empty concrete behind a third building. A floodlight shone a solid square of obnoxiously harsh white light down on the rest of your group, who turned to watch you slip out of the alley. 

You had scarcely stepped into the light before Vander, who had been fiddling with something under the floodlight, let out a victorious little hum, and pulled a fire escape ladder down from the side of the building. The thing was rickety, with its paint peeling off and visible signs of rust, but it remained in one piece, even as it hinges loudly protested being moved. 

“Who wants to go up first this year?” Vander asked, hands on his hips. As if they’d been doing this long enough to deduce that taking turns was a necessary evil in the name of fairness.

“It’s my turn,” Felicia was quick to interject, a hand half raised as she eagerly stepped forward. 

Vander frowned. “Are you certain? Remember that one year Connol had to fight off that pissy bird?” The man in question winced at the memory, whilst Silco openly snorted. 

Felicia fixed Vander with an unimpressed look. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.” She told him, with a single pat to her swollen belly, before she strode right past him and took a confident step up onto the ladder. It groaned beneath her weight, but held. Judging by the way she confidently climbed despite the noise, it had a tendency to do that. She kept talking, as Connol stepped forward to follow her up. “Maybe you should focus on your brother  instead, Vander, he’s more likely to eat dirt than I am.”

“I’ll be fine.” Silco dryly responded, and Felicia turned mid-step up to shoot him a grin of unfiltered glee. The floodlight illuminated the side of her face and made her teeth glint creepily. 

Then her eyes swept to the side and found you already watching her. That grin turned mischievous. “Did we ever tell you of the year that Silco missed a step on the ladder and fell into that dumpster?” “Felicia!” Silco ground out, voice suddenly tight with warning.

“No, you didn’t.” You spoke over him, injecting interest into your voice, to which Silco made an offended noise and shot you a betrayed look.

Felicia shrugged dramatically with one shoulder and hauled herself up the rest of the way and briefly disappeared onto the top of the roof. Silco was the next person up the ladder, with you following, and Vander bringing up the rear. Felicia took great joy in ribbing Silco whilst he was unable to get back at her between climbing and holding onto his blanket.

“It was hilarious.” She teased innocently. “He clambered out of it covered in week-old milk and vegetable shavings, and Vander had to hose him down out front the bar before he’d let him inside for a proper bath.”

“Felicia, I swear, shut up!” Silco warned. “Now, now Felicia, try not to embarrass the poor man.” Vander mused, an equally mischievous glint in his eye. “You might give him performance anxiety.” “My arm is fine! I can climb up the bloody ladder just as well as any of you!” Silco argued sharply. You couldn’t see him very well from your vantage point, but you were fairly certain his ears were reddening. 

“I dunno,” Felicia continued, as Silco cleared the top of the ladder. “My ‘ailment’ has nothing to do with my limbs and these guys surely have no faith in me.”

Silco muttered something you couldn’t hear as you hauled yourself up onto the roof and made room for Vander to join you. 

Zaun already looked different from up here. The streets were dark, with only dots of lights illuminating the twisting veins of streets breaking up the buildings. Whilst the moon stood valiantly above it all, silently observing whilst offering a strong light. 

Illuminated by the moonlight, you watched as Connol tried to interject into the conversation. “Honey,” he said seriously, which immediately got Felicia’s undivided attention on him. “You know that Vander didn’t mean it like that. He was just trying to be considerate.” He spoke softly, reverently, as he slowly reached for one of Felicia’s hands and grasped it between both of his own. His expression was open and loving - almost sickeningly so.

Felicia positively beamed back at him. “I know, Darling.” She reassured him. “I’m just being difficult because I love watching them squirm.” You saw Connol’s adoration for her clearly reflected in her own expression then. And the air was suddenly tense with how obviously they loved one another. It was almost difficult to watch.

Averting your eyes from the display, you accidentally caught Silco’s gaze instead. To which he raised his eyebrows and let out an over the top, exasperated sigh, as if the sight of his friends being so disgustingly in love was a great hardship for him to witness. You found yourself smiling back. 

Vander clapped his hands. “Right. Enough exchanging looks everyone, we have a schedule to keep, and a display to get to.” He prompted, like a teacher wrangling his unruly students. “Felicia, lead the way, won’t you?” And so she did. 

As before, the group followed Felicia - as they had Vander earlier - across the roof towards a wide plank of wood acting as a precarious bridge to the neighbouring roof. It was practiced ease that had someone holding one end of the plank, whilst the next person carefully crossed. 

You had barely crossed the plank, before Felicia was bending her knees and neatly jumping across a second gap, up to a slightly higher, second roof. It was this roof that she stopped leading. 

You followed the others up onto it, and found yourself being treated to a fantastically clear view of the bridge and the Piltover palace sprawled out across the horizon line. The roof itself was flat and free of debris, with a crumbled and broken fire escape taking up the stretch of roof furthest from the river. 

The others were quick to get comfortable along the edge of the roof overlooking the bridge. 

Felicia and Connol sat close to one another, with their feet hanging over the edge, before Connol wound his arm around his partner’s lower back and encouraged her to lean into his side. The whispers they exchanged were too low to make out. 

Vander sat himself down further along the roof from them, whilst Silco shook out his blanket before sitting down at his brother’s side closest to his friends. He took great care in arranging the red fabric over his knees, before he set his hands behind him and leaned back onto them.

They looked so comfortable in one another’s company, you were abruptly reminded. Years of existing in each other's space had brought on this easy atmosphere. It had your traitorous mind wondering for just a moment, where could you possibly fit in this dynamic. It was clear they wanted you around, or at least enjoyed your company, or Felicia would have left you behind at the bar tonight. But why? What could you offer this dynamic that they didn’t already have?

“Are you going to sit down?” 

You blinked your thoughts away, to find Silco had turned around to glance up at you. 

“I-” Your eyes jumped from the open roof on Vander’s other side, to the gap between Silco and Felicia, to the other stretch of roof at Connol’s side. It would be weird for you to take up the middle spot right? 

Felicia groaned audibly. “It’s too cold. Come and sit your ass here to give me some warmth.” She smacked the concrete between her and Silco.

You saw immediately through the act. She had Connol wrapped around her, and had enough layers to stave off the light autumn chill. It was just an excuse to help ease you into feeling more comfortable. You were ashamed that it worked.

“Maybe you should have put on more layers.” You lightly scolded, taking the excuse for what it was to sit down in the open spot. 

Felicia pulled a face at you, but didn’t argue. 

The moment you sat down, the chill of the concrete immediately began to seep into your thighs through your trousers. It wasn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but you could certainly feel how the roof was slowly leeching the warmth out of your legs. 

Turning your attention outwards in an attempt to stave off the inevitable shivers, you were surprised to find the rest of Zaun lining up along the river bank below. A couple of other smart families had also chosen suitable roofs to witness the firework display from, but the majority of the city population were thickly crowding the streets below. It was weirdly reassuring to see so many people coexisting for once instead of biting and snapping at each other. 

The smell of something warm and herbal wafted over to you on the wind. In your peripheral, you found that Vander had pulled a flask of something steaming out of his pocket, and was lightly blowing on the surface, whilst his large hands overlapped around the narrow torso of the drink.

Connol and Felicia were talking quietly in hushed voices, their inaudible words mixing in with the clammer of hundreds of bodies crowded below.

Across the river, the lights of Piltover dimmed. The council building dissolved into the night sky like a looming shadow giant, whilst the bridge’s presence fell away as its lights were switched off. The noise of the assembled Zaunites abruptly dulled, and your breath caught in your lungs in anticipation. 

The entire riverbank seemed to hold its breath as the first firework was shot into the sky. Your eyes tracked it as it rocketed higher and higher, its sparking tail trailing into nothing, as it got lost for a moment amongst the inky blackness of the night and the distant white dotted stars. And then all at once the sky erupted into a shower of gold. Your eyes widened as the roof was bathed in the ochre light of the first firework, the bang roaring across the river a few heartbeats later.

And so the show began in earnest. Fireworks of gold, fuschia and blue erupted across the sky above Piltover, showering the city below in bursts of bright colour. It was a mesmerising display really. Your ears ringing from the constant booming of the previous firework dying out, only for another, bigger, louder one to immediately fill the silence. 

You were so transfixed by the display, that you hadn't noticed the goosebumps that had erupted up and down your arms, nor the tremoring shake of your hands clasped tightly in your lap. All of your attention was on the display.

You had never actually sat outside to watch it before today, having instead tucked yourself into bed after exhausting days on the street, whilst silently fuming at the distant and annoying bangs of the celebration obnoxiously keeping you awake. 

A gentle touch to your outer thigh, had your attention slamming back to the present as your head sharply snapped down. Silco’s hand froze, where it was trying to drape some of his blanket over your trembling legs. Your breath caught. Your head jumped up to him, but he was stubbornly not looking at you. His eyes laser focused on the ongoing display instead.

His hand remained clenched around the fabric. Hovering. Waiting. 

Hesitantly, you took the offered corner, your cold fingers momentarily touching. He didn’t react, so you carefully shuffled closer to the side and draped the skin warmed blanket over your legs. 

He did not look at you. So you stopped looking at him.

“Thanks,” you offered under your breath, fairly certain the word had been lost in the wind and another boom of the display before he could hear it. 

A tiny smile turned up the corner of his mouth in the next burst of light, suggesting otherwise of course, but you did not dare question it. It was kind of him to share after all. Sweet. 

Before you could fully tear your eyes from Silco’s profile, you found Vander watching the pair of you behind him. Your stomach turned at the mischief glinting in his eyes, as his eyebrows wiggled suggestively, all whilst he took an obnoxious slurp out of his flask.

The noise had Silco’s head turning his way. His smile dissolves into a nose wrinkled curl of disgust.

Vander just grinned back, before turning his attention back to the display.

Somehow, it felt like permission, although you could not pinpoint why or what it was for. 

You really needed to stop turning up to The Last Drop injured. Not only was it getting boring, but the others were likely to put you on house arrest if you kept getting strikes put on your track record.

The one silver lining today at least, was that you had been injured on a job Vander had asked you and Sevika to complete, which entailed causing a ruckus several streets away from The Last Drop to distract the Enforcer patrols. Which the pair of you had done; beautiful, might you add. 

So beautifully, that the price had been both you and Sevika ending up a bit roughed up. And the latter, actively bullying you into letting her help you make your way back to the bar, your arm slung over her shoulder. She had been heading the same way anyway, she tried to reason. 

Usually, after a fight the pair of you would ensure the other was able to walk before letting each other slink away to lick their wounds. But apparently not today. Today, Sevika told you with no room for argument, that she would be helping you back to The Last Drop, and then added  on something about Vander and threats, but you couldn’t really make out her mumbling. 

There were glass shards sprinkled in your hair after all, and long, paper-thin cuts running up your forearms from your run in with a window. You could feel a bruise forming on your ribs too from the rim of the dumpster you’d landed in. The Enforcer who had shoved you, and you had grabbed a hold of, to drag out of the window with you, had landed hard on the concrete, and hadn’t gotten back up. 

As Sevika dragged you towards The Last Drop, you idly wondered if his comrades would both to drag his body back across the river or leave him to the rats. 

The warmth of the bar swept over you before you could really get into it. 

Tonight, important business was being conducted in the belly of the bar, so the establishment was being manned by a Bartender you did not recognise. His eyes briefly flickered up from the customer he was serving when Sevika dragged you into the building, but apart from a tiny nod of acknowledgement and his eye pointedly darting away from the pair of you, he made no move to stop either of you from heading for the back.

The bar was loud tonight. The stereo’s setting turned up to one of its highest, forcing the crowd to yell over one another to compensate. Not even the door to the staircase down into the basement could fully dull the sheer volume of the main room, but then again, that was the purpose. After all, there was no way anyone outside of the meeting room would be able to eavesdrop with all of that going on upstairs.

“Almost there, Runt.” Sevika commentated, more to herself than to you, as she dragged you down the first flight of steps to the corridor of doors. Then she hauled you towards one of the end doors, and promptly kicked the one to the living room open, all before yanking you inside. Perhaps this rough treatment was part of the reason you didn’t normally allow her to assist you in times like these.

You would’ve preferred to have walked into this meeting unassisted, what with the people attending consisting of some Zaun’s most powerful and influential leaders, but Sevika pointedly did not give you an option.

“Let go.” You ground out under your breath, trying to wiggle your arm free of her vice-like hold, to which she just held onto you more firmly. “Sevika!” You hissed, trying again with your most lethal expression levelled at the side of her head, only for your protests to promptly die on your tongue when she glared down at you. Your cheeks promptly lit up with shame and you ducked your head. 

In the living room below, the quiet chatter of the meeting had abruptly cut off at your entrance. 

As Sevika dragged your battered body down the stairs, you caught sight of the usual bar trio - plus Connol - alongside various shopkeepers, and the leaders of small gangs peering back at you with various levels of unease. How Vander had the reach to be able to get so many of them to agree to meet in one spot, was beyond you. But it was probably helped along by the fact that the bar was openly advertised as neutral ground. 

Sevika’s boots hit the cold flagstones first, where she paused and lifted you down the last two steps. You were not limping that badly! You grumbled as such and shot her another glare lethal, to which she blatantly ignored your protests again and set you back down at her side. 

“The hell did you do now?!” Felicia’s voice burst out from across the room, having been the first to shake herself out of her shock. Beside her, Connol placed a hand on her knee, both soothing and to keep her seated. His own expression was grim as his eyes cut from the important people assembled in the room, to you and Sevika’s pitiful appearances. 

More subtly, you watched with a sinking stomach as Vander sighed and raked a large hand down the side of his face. 

Whereas various leaders sat on the opposite sofa on the other side of the coffee table exchanged confused and judgemental glances. 

“And who might you be?” One of the braver one spoke up, an older woman with an air of authority and fiery, red hair. She sat straight on her couch cushion, a queen on her throne, despite being squished shoulder to shoulder with the others. Her expression was pinched and professional, her attention almost burning with how intently she looked at you.

“Those would be our Distraction Agents,” Silco of all people spoke up, drawing all eyes away from you and Sevika. He made a show of rising from his chair pulled up alongside the couch Vander was seated on, and motioning for Sevika to bring you forward. 

To an outsider, his expression would have been politely composed, if not subtly tight with irritation to being interrupted. To you, he looked panicked. 

With a grunt, Sevika wasted no time in hauling you round the back of Vander’s couch to lower you into the offered chair, whilst Silco continued to smooth over the interruption. You winced as the glass stuck in your body jolted from the rough treatment, but otherwise allowed her to work if only to get the humiliation over with quickly. 

“-both of whom gave us the necessary opening to have this vital meeting without fear of Enforcer,” Silco paused in his explanation to find the correct phrase, “input.”

The confusion on a few of the newer faces morphed into expressions of understanding at the implication. 

Keeping your eyes averted, you tried to arrange yourself into a more presentable seating arrangement, absently noting how Sevika retreated to hover menacingly over Vander’s shoulder behind his couch, whilst Silco remained stood beside your chair, his chin raised and his hands neatly folded behind his back. 

From there, the meeting progressed smoothly. They discussed possible riot locations. Weak points within the Topside city, alongside the weaponry currently at their disposal. As well as timings, and named willing Zaunites who could be relied upon to step up when called. 

To your relief, you and Sevika had joined during the tail end of the meeting, which finally began to wrap up a little after midnight, where the leaders and shopkeepers politely thanked Vander and began to filter out of the room. 

Above, the din of the bar was beginning to wind down too.

As the last of the leaders filtered out, you slumped back against the backrest of your chair with a groan, the steady throb of the glass and cuts steadily beginning to consume more of your attention. Gods, what an evening. 

The door at the top of the stairs had scarcely clicked shut, before Vander suddenly rounded on you. You yelped at the unexpected attention, your head instinctively ducking to avoid his burning glare. 

In your peripheral vision, Silco also turned to you. His hip jutted out in the way that suggested he had crossed his arms and was also giving you a sharp, disapproving look.

You didn’t even want to look at Felicia. 

Gods, when had you become so embedded in this bar and its community that you knew their reactions without looking. And when had you begun to care that you had concerned them?

“What the hell happened?” Vander ground out between tightly set teeth, his voice practically oozing with poorly concealed rage. “I asked you to distract the patrols, not offer yourself up as a punching bag.”

His choice of words stroked the defiant part of you that despised being talked down to. Abruptly, your unease and guilt mutated into annoyance as you levelled a sharp look his way.

Obviously, you didn’t look that bad. Maybe a little black and blue, with a few cuts here and there, but that was it. The other assholes looked far worse. There was no way this universal reaction was proportionate to the state of you. 

“Still in one piece, aren’t we?” You challenged, to which Vander broke eye contact to squeeze his eyes closed and take a calming breath, which, rude. 

Sevika, ever fearless, outright snorted at the entire display, as she limped her way round the couch to the newly vacated sofa on the other side of the coffee table. With a grunt, she sat down on one of the cushions, before spinning and laying herself down on her back. “Believe it or not,” she said calmly, kicking off her shoes and stretching out her legs, “that was tame for us.” Silco clicked his tongue in disbelief. “Really?” He asked dangerously, arms still crossed. “Because your comrade looks as though they were recently shoved through a wall.” Sevika chuckled then. “Close,” she congratulated him with a lift of her brows. “It was actually a window.”

Silco’s eyebrows jumped as his head snapped down to you, where you again ducked your head and averted your eyes. 

“A second story window at that.” Sevika helpfully added, which had Vander slumping back against the backrest and groaning into his hand, whilst Felicia’s mouth audibly dropped open.

“You are not helping!” You hissed at your comrade, who simply grinned with too many teeth. She was clearly enjoying embarrassing you. 

“What?” She challenged, “scared they’ll realise what a reckless idiot you are?”

“Shut. it.” You warned, eyes narrowing.

Silco shifted in the edge of your vision. You ignored him.

Sevika sat up then. Her movements slow and dangerous. Deliberate. And her brows began to draw together, as a look of mock realisation spread across her features. “No.” She drawled with mock surprise. “You’re scared they’ll think you’re incapable-”

And there went your composure. Your expression hardened as you slammed your hands down on the armrests of your chair and tried to lunge across the coffee table at her. 

Vander’s head snapped up out of his hands in bewilderment, at the same time Silco lunged for your shoulders. His arms wrapped tight around your upper torso, driving slices of glass deeper into your flesh, but you didn’t care. This was why you didn’t want Sevika and The Last Drop to collide. You didn’t need her coming in here, revealing shit that had nothing to do with these people. She had seen you at your lowest. Had watched you fight and kill. Had watched in fascination as you peeled yourself off of bloodied floors, and scrambled to get back up after a heavy blow. 

Before the bar, she was the closest thing you’d had to a friend. And she was about to shatter whatever careful persona you’d built for yourself here.

Even Felicia was looking at you with different eyes. As if you were suddenly some wild animal, instead of the introverted stray cat she’d always joked you were. 

And like a fool, Sevika continued to provoke you. “Awe, sorry, Runt. Am I embarrassing you?” Sevika taunted, eyes glinting with challenge, stroking the part of you that wanted to stab her eye out for being so blatantly irritating.

“I’ll show you incapable, Asshole!” You snarled back, ceasing your mindless lunging, to instead bring up your leg and grab for your knife tucked into the back of your boot. To which Silco made a panicked noise and tried to grab at your wrist. 

The pair of you struggled for a moment. Sevika relaxing back against her couch, whilst you tried to ward off Silco’s attempts to snatch the knife from your hold.

“Fuck off!”

“Stabbing her isn’t going to solve the problem-” “No! Actually. It very much will!”

“Alright you two, that’s enough.” Vander tried to referee, but this wasn’t a verbal sparring match between you and Felicia. 

This was a slight. Sevika knew which buttons to press, and she knew what reaction it would get her. In some twisted way, it was her version of ensuring you were okay. Like how you would kick a cat to see if it was still alive enough to scratch. It was the kind of care you’d been used to, before stumbling into The Last Drop and glutting yourself on Vander’s unique version of concern.  

“No no, let them-” Sevika tried to get Vander to back off. Only for her words to die on her tongue, when you finally shoved Silco’s hand off, and THREW the blade at her head. The weapon embedded itself blade down in the wall beside her ear. Close enough for her baby hairs to jump from the wind of it zinging past her cheek.

“Not bad.” She calmly complimented, “for a glass shard pin cushion.”

“I have two more if you want to keep running your mouth.” You told her bluntly, as Silco took advantage of your distraction to shove you back down into the chair. He had a weird expression on his face now. Something that could have been fear, or could have been exasperation.

“Na, I’m good. The whole, cowering whilst getting scolded look, was just freaking me out.” Sevika waved you off, effortlessly yanking the blade from the wall to toss back to you. 

Felicia made a short, cut off noise as the blade was momentarily air borne, before you snatched its hilt from the air and smoothly returned the thing to your boot. 

For a moment the room was still, before Vander shook himself out of his bewilderment, and turned to Sevika to ask her for further details on your side of the mission. She straightened in her seat, before explaining what had happened. 

“-the Runt got a little too into it towards the end,” she finished reporting with a tired sigh. “Goaded one of the stronger Blue Bellies into tackling them, only they both went out the window.” Vander sighed again. He and Sevika share a long suffering look of camaraderie. He turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

You gave him a dangerous little grin. “That I won.”

Vander blinked down at you in confusion, eyes briefly jumping up to Silco who audibly shrugged. “How do you win by getting shoved out of a window?” The former asked carefully.

“Well,” you replied seriously, because the answer was obvious. “Because I got up after. He didn’t.”

Which was true, because you had fallen into a dumpster instead of landing on the concrete, like the Enforcer. And where you’d been simply bruised, the other guy hadn’t been so lucky.

Vander’s eyes jumped to Sevika, who just shrugged at his helpless look. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She said as if Vander had spoken. “But they came to find me right after. I’d barely dealt with my own Enforcer when they strolled in like nothing had happened. I swear, this one is like a cockroach. No matter what happens, they always manage to get up again.”

“It’s why you keep me around.” You helpfully supplied and she snorted.

“And why I can’t get rid of you.” She playfully added, although there was no bite to her words this time.

Winter had fully set in. 

Nights spent on your thin mattress with your blanket wound tight around your shivering frame, were miserable. As always when the frost set in, food across Zaun went up in price as Piltover took the better part of the shares. What you couldn’t buy or forage for yourself, you went without. 

The cold made people desperate. Made the most despairing of the Undercity turn on each other in search of payment from the enemy, since betrayal was preferable to starvation. As such, your face began turning up on wanted posters, alongside Sevika’s and a few other stranglers you’d teamed up with on odd jobs throughout the year. The Enforcer’s had withdrawn their patrols from the depths of the Lanes to monitor the bridge and the main roads, but that just left the streets full of potential rats waiting for you to show your face. 

You ventured out as little as possible. Ducking out of your home when the hours were quiet and cold to acquire more food or attempt to hunt down a job. It was on one of these desperate runs, that you found yourself on a road that passed The Last Drop. As always, it was the smell of something delicious cooking that had your footsteps pausing, and your hollow stomach twisting with sheer want. 

Eyes hungry, you stood in the shadow of a building across the square as the bar buzzed with life. Even from where you stood, you could tell that the tables within were full. There was music blaring and actual laughter filtering out through the windows. The place was alive with restless energy and joyous shouts, that the rest of Zaun failed to muster at this time of year. 

It was a stark contrast from the frozen alleyways and slow moving crowds you had grown accustomed to seeing since the first snowfall.  

Against your better judgement, you found yourself striding towards the building instead of steering clear of it. With the establishment so full and your face on the wanted posters, you knew it would be suicidal to step inside, but at the same time, your fingers were so cold you could scarcely feel them. And you had hardly spoken to another person in weeks. 

You were tired, and cold and feeling a little reckless. So, keeping your hood pulled down low over your eyes, you slipped inside, and wove through the crowd in search of a quiet place to hide. There was a small table left empty in one of the side alcoves, its tealight set in the centre of the tablecloth burning low. 

The smell of whatever Vander was cooking had your hollow stomach writhing with want. But you made no move to approach the bar. Not tonight. You would just stay here until the cold seeped out of your limbs and you could flex your fingers again.

Instead, you subtly turned your head to check that no one had noticed you, before you sank down into the vacant seat and slumped back against the backrest. No one seemed to blink twice at the sight of another hooded figure taking up residence at an empty table. Despite the warmth of the bar, the cold still lingered, so several people still had hats on to keep ears warm, or their hair tucked close to their necks to ward off the chill.

The crowd tonight was thick enough that you felt safe to linger in the warmth, and satisfy your hunger through smell alone. Just being out of your apartment was more filling than any cold meals you’d scrapped together in the last month.

Gods, you felt like shit. But also weirdly raw. Where usually, this state would have you crawling into a hole to die, tonight, you couldn’t stomach the idea of going home to your still, silent apartment. Even if you weren’t here to socialise, you also knew that you needed company. Even just people around, despite not being part of the crowd. 

The month of laying low and steering clear of the patrols and hiding your face from civilians had definitely taken its toll on you. You were jumpy. Even more so with how aware of your hunger you were. Your body was running on fumes, a persistent shake to your hands and a hollowness to your cheeks that you only ever saw in the mirror around this time of year.

It would have been pathetic if it wasn’t such a common sight in the Undercity. Clothes that hung off of bodies rather than wrapped around them, and belts had had to be cinched tighter and tighter as winter persisted.

The movement of a confident figure weaving through the crowd drew your attention up from the tea light burning low in front of you. It was a server, you observed, carrying a tray laden with bowls of soup.

She was not anyone you’d seen working at The Last Drop before. But judging by the apron and the ease in which she wove between full tables and rowdy patrons, she had been working here long enough to have worked out the lay of the land. Perhaps Vander had needed additional help. Or more likely, someone had come in looking for a meal without enough coin to pay for it, and had offered labour in return.

Knowing Vander, he would have let her run off scott free after having her fill, but his brand of care was always jarring to come across when one was so unused to kindness. Especially if you didn’t know him very well. 

With quiet interest, you watched the new server make a beeline towards a table a few over from your own, where a couple and their son sat nursing drinks. She greeted the women with a cheerful smile, and began setting down a bowl in front of their son, only for one of them to begin shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but we didn’t order any food.”“It’s on the house.” The Waitress easily reassured, clearly having repeated the same phrase all night. The words had you smiling despite yourself because of course Vander would be giving out free food. “The Boss made too much, so you’d be doing us a favour in helping us get rid of it.” The woman who had spoken smiled tightly, seemingly unsure whether to believe her, whilst her partner carefully pushed the bowl already on the table towards the boy, who’s eyes hadn’t left its steaming contents since it had been placed on the table.

“Love.” The Partner quietly spoke, her smile reassuring as she put her hand to her Wife’s arm, who seemed to relax. “Thank you.” She told the Waitress, who just smiled and set down another two bowls for each of them, before continuing to another table with empty bowls set to the side.

Where the boy immediately dug in and practically groaned in delight at the taste, his parents were more hesitant in dipping their spoons into their bowls. As if they expected the Waitress to come back tutting and immediately snatch back the food.

You were so engrossed in watching the couple relax, that you were startled when a shadow suddenly appeared at the other end of your little table, and leaned over to set down a steaming bowl of soup before you. Eyes wide, your head jerked up as a spoon was carefully slid across the table as well.

“Could I get you a drink to go with that?” Silco asked, tone polite but disinterested. He also wore an apron, and had his hair pulled back into a low bun. He looked good. Healthy in a way that suggested Vander’s warm cooking and consistent meals. 

Those piercing blue eyes connected with your own beneath the shadow of your hood, and his breath visibly stilled in his chest. His brows jumped before, he tucked his empty tray under his armpit and drew closer.

He quietly said your name, brows drawing together now as he squinted. You unstuck your lips from one another, ready to deny it in a made up voice, or rapidly dismiss yourself, only for him to suddenly snort and straighten up. The professional mask slipped away beneath a lopsided grin as he said playfully, “we have to stop meeting like this.” 

And oh, you hadn’t realised how much you’d missed him. It had scarcely been a full season since you’d last spoken, but just those words alone soothed something jagged in you.

Silco’s tray found its way onto the table, as he pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down heavily. “So, what corner of the Undercity have you been hiding in lately?” He asked conversationally, limbs loose and relaxed as you remained rigid and quiet. “We haven’t seen you in weeks. Vander was getting ready to call for a search party, and Felicia was threatening to hunt you down herself.” 

Yep, that sure sounded like them.

“The parts that are the least overrun by Enforcers.” You returned, voice tight and sore from disuse. 

Silco huffed as if he completely understood where you were coming from. “Tell me about it, they’ve been relentless lately. We can scarcely get through a night without a patrol of them coming in demanding to search the patrons, and you don’t even need me to tell you how that goes down with Vander.”

And off he went into a little rant, immediately sweeping you away in the calming cadence of his voice. Enough that you felt your shoulders begin to loosen. Emboldened by his calmly spoken complaints, you sat back in your chair, head tilted in a way that had your hood sliding down the back of your head a little, revealing more of your face to the soft lighting of the room.

Silco’s eyes roamed over your face, a small smile on his face, before his words trailed off, and that smile began to dissolve. His brows knotting as those eyes jumped all over your expression, and you subconsciously rubbed at your cheek. Did you have something on your face? You hadn’t even taken a bite of soup yet, despite your rumbling stomach, so there couldn’t be any on your cheeks.

“-what happened to you? You look awful.” Silco suddenly blurted, and you frowned. Dramatically, you glanced down at yourself. Sure, your clothes had seen better days, but surely you didn’t look that bad. You weren’t even bleeding this time.

“Uh, thanks?” You replied sharply. 

Silco looked like he wanted to kick himself. “No, not that you look bad.”

You decided to rib him a little for his clumsy wording. “No, of course not. You used the word ‘awful’.”

“Well, yes, because you look half starved.” He tried to argue to which you calmly reminded him, “it’s winter, Silco.”

He just frowned harder, before reaching across the table to push your bowl closer to you. “Yes, it is.” He agreed, “but if it had gotten this bad I would have assumed you would be smart enough to come to us for help.” You scowled then. “I’d like a to-go box, please. The unwanted rant is not complimenting the meal at all.”

He pulled a face, and pulled his hand back to his side of the table. “Oh, stop being difficult. You know this sort of talk isn’t one of my strong suits.”

“Yeah. You’re terrible at it.” You agreed, and he huffed out a little laugh.

For a moment, the din of the bar filled in the silence between you as Silco’s eyes dropped to the table where a finger was idly tracing the uneven woodgrains. Taking the opportunity, you took up your spoon and finally shovelled a mouthful of warm soup onto your tongue, and oh by the gods was it good!

So good that for several desperate mouthfuls, you forgot about the company you were keeping as you fully devoted yourself to consuming as much soup as humanly possible. Vaguely, you could hear one of the women you’d been watching earlier, giggling at the display, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

“Gods I have missed Vander’s cooking.” You said aloud, when your belly was finally full enough that you could think about speaking in between mouthfuls. 

Silco huffed out a breath but did not laugh. His attention was still on the table when he spoke up again. Either feeling too raw to meet your gaze, or wanting to give you a moment of privacy, you did not know. “You know, if you had sent word that the Enforcers were so relentless, we would have come to you, right?” “No.” You returned dismissively, pausing to scrape up another spoonful. “You wouldn’t have, because that would have been a stupid thing for me to ask or expect. You guys have lives to live, a bloody business to run. And last I checked, you don’t do home delivery.”

Silco’s look of offense morphed into fondness at the last part. “Yeah well, close friends are the exception.” He said softly. So softly, that it had alarm bells going off in the back of your head. 

Your spoon froze halfway to your mouth, and you were about to correct him, when someone new approached your table.

“So sorry to interrupt folks,” Vander said by way of introduction, “but Silco, I have bowls needing to go out. Socialise in your own time-” His eyes jump up to you at the other end of the table, an apology half formed on his lips before he froze at the sight of you. Which, come on! You did NOT look that bad.

It was eerie to see Vander so still. 

“Actually,” you tried to joke, “I was promised a drink, and your employee here has rudely not delivered.” Your words fell flat, and Vander did not move.

Instead, he stood menacingly on the other end of the table and simply said, “you.” And oh fuck, that’s the kind of expression that has you running away from a fight instead of reaching for a knife.

“Uh, hi?”

“Vander-” Silco jumped in, tone warning, but Vander completely ignored him, in favour of stealing a chair from a nearby table and loudly setting it down beside Silco’s chair. 

His eyes burned, as he put his elbows on the table and leaned in close, something like rage bubbling low in his voice as he hissed out. “Do you want to tell me why I’ve had Enforcers knocking on my door, asking to put up your wanted poster all over the fucking place?!” 

His fury made you bristle. “Was it a good photo at least?” 

Silco snorted, and Vander shot him a disapproving glare. Undeterred, Silco replied, “of course not. They fucked up your ears for sure, and your nose looked all kinds of wrong-” “Silco.” Vander said sharply, “Go man the bar.” Silco tilted his head dangerously, an unspoken challenge in the way he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms instead of getting up to comply. “I don’t think I will.”

Vander’s anger visibly began to simmer, and you tried to step in before he could explode. Clearly, the man was under a lot of stress. “Guys, can we not have a pissing contest right now-” “Don’t you start.” Vander rounded on you, “I am furious with you!”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Why? I haven’t even been here to piss you off?” 

Vander’s rage flared, and ah, there was the problem. “Exactly!” He snarled, loudly enough for a couple of heads to turn your way. “No note! No heads up that you were going away for a few months. I thought you were fucking dead!”

“I just haven’t had time to stop by.” You tried to defend yourself, but he was having none of it.

“I don’t care! Not even Sevika has seen you around lately-” “You were asking Sevika about me again?!” 

“What was I supposed to do-?” “Keep your big nose out of my business!” You roared back. “Who do you think you are? My fucking guardian angel? You may be a year or two older, Vander, but that doesn’t make you the fucking boss of me. Do you understand?” Vander’s expression had lost some of its sharpness, and had instead become almost sad. “I’m just looking out for you.” You rolled your eyes in the face of his concern, watching real offence slide onto Vander’s expression. 

“Oh, I see how it is.” You mused, tone suggesting just how ludicrous you thought he was being. “So you feed me sometimes? Talk to me every now and again? And that suddenly makes us fucking friends, does it?”

“Why do you have to say it like that? Like I’m being ridiculous?” “Are you even listening to yourself right now?” You countered, “because what you’re saying right now, Vander, is fucking stupid.” “Well too bad, because I surely think of you as my friend. And I look out for my friends.”

You scoffed again. “You can’t be friends with every stray that wanders in here.” “Watch me.” He challenged outright, crossing his arms and levelling you with a look that just oozed stubborn determination.

From his seat, Silco outright chuckled. His head had been snapping to and fro between you and Vander throughout the entire debate. Where he found amusement in what was being said, you had no idea.

“I would quit whilst you’re ahead.” The man advised you lightly, “he is undefeated in this kind of thing. The only reason I ended up hanging around, was because he bullied me into it.” And yeah, you could see that happening rather easily. Not that Silco seemed even half as resistant as he pretended to be. 

The smile that stretches onto Vander’s face from the fond comment was reserved and small, but it was no doubt there. “You would know, you’re the original stray, aren’t you Silco?” The man teased fondly, to which Silco kicked him under the table and waved him off. You noted how he did not deny the claim however. 

“All that aside,” Vander continued, eyes jumping back to you. “What in The Lanes did you do to get on Top Side’s wanted list?”

You shrugged. “Winter makes Piltover’s hunting dogs bored. Someone from the window fiasco saw my face and spread it to their commander, simple as that. Sevika’s got a poster or two floating around too.”

Vander sighed heavily at your explanation. “Well then, it’s settled. You’re spending the night here.” You snorted at his sudden conclusion. “Like fuck I am.”

“Why do you always make things so difficult? I’m trying to help you-” “No, fuck off with that shit. I don’t need your fucking protection. I can take care of my damn self.”

“Clearly.” Vander replied simply, motioning to your gaunt cheeks.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t need your pity. Or your concern.” You warned him, “just keep my name out of your mouth, and stop drawing attention to me.” Vander frowned. “You know, the pattern I’ve picked up on, is that people tend to be safer when they’re known to be associated with this place.” He motioned to the bar.

“Oh really,” you challenged, “well, my continued existence in this hell hole of a city, suggests that laying low and remaining in the background works out just as well.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Vander retorted. “You’re reduced to cowering in the shadows. That’s not living-”

“Nor is hiding under your stupid bar!”

“Vander!” A new voice interrupted your fight before it could pick up pace again. “Vander!” The voice yelled out, louder and more insistent as the Waitress from before suddenly burst out of the crowd. 

Vander sat up straighter in his chair. His undivided attention on the girl as she scrambled for the correct words. “Enforcers!” She blurted out, startling a couple of the tables closest to yours. She winced and lowered her voice before continuing. “Enforcers are trying to get in. I’ve got the boys manning the door, but they want to do a sweep.”

“At this hour?” Silco ground out, sounding royally pissed.

Vander just sighed, and pushed himself up to his feet. Like the smug bastard he was, he shot you a meaningful look. “Looks like your lying low shtick isn’t working out so well, is it?”

“You’re not seriously implying that I led them here, are you?” You retorted, to which Vander shook his head.

“You’re not the only fugitive hiding out beneath this roof, and you won’t be the last.” He turned to go, pausing when your chair made a loud squeak as you shoved it back and rose to your feet. The determination on your face had Vander already beginning to shake his head despite you not yet having uttered a word.

“Not that I’m trying to repay you for the meal or anything,” you began seriously, to which both brothers fondly shook their heads. “But how dramatic of a distraction do you want?” Vander’s eyebrows jumped at the offer. “Don’t be daft.” He told you firmly, “I’ll deal with this. You keep your head down like you always do.”

With that, he followed the Waitress into the crowd. “Bobby! I’ve told you, no RUNNING in the bar!” His voice boomed out amongst the din, before his voice became indistinguishable from the rest.

Across the table, Silco rose to his feet with a sight. Carefully, he picked up your empty bowl and spoon, and set them on his tray, before stepping out from in front of his chair and neatly tucking it in. “Come on. Best we get you to the back before they start scouring the tables.”

There was no force behind his words. No compulsory element that made your hackles raise, or your body instinctively want to break away from him and escape. It was a solution. A safe alternative to simply making a run from it. 

Hesitantly, you followed his lead. Head turning to the front of the bar, where you could vaguely make out Vander’s back amongst the sea of bodies, alongside the blue uniform of several Enforcers. “Will he be okay?” You asked, noting the tension to Vander’s shoulders. “Against the Enforcers?” Silco asked, following the direction of your gaze before shrugging. “If anything, he needs the confrontation to get some stress out.” Turning neatly on his heel, Silco began to lead you away from the front of the building towards the counter and the door to the back. You fell into step a few paces behind, moving slow and casual, so as not to draw the eye of the enemy.

Silco was still talking as he set his tray down on the counter, before heading to the basement door. “Please excuse Vander’s brashness. He’s had a lot on his shoulders lately. All these people needing help sets him on edge, and he gets into this mood that’s hard to pull him out of.” The man let out a fond sigh, as he turned the handle and began to descend the steps, “but that’s Vander for you. Always the bleeding heart.”

He paused on the fourth step down, turning to glance up at you hovering in the doorway. “What is it?” He asked patiently.

“Nothing. I’m just debating how quickly I can make it to the back exit before you or Vander catch me.” Silco rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you. You look like you’re about to keel over. You won’t make it five steps.” He must have seen the spark of challenge that the playful words ignited in you, because he took a hasty step back up and added enticingly, “I have my blanket already downstairs and a roaring fire going.”

You made a contemplative face. “Keep going, I’m almost tempted.” 

He huffed a laugh. “You mentioned that you missed Vander’s cooking. How about a second bowl of soup? I’ll even bring you a drink this time.”

You sighed. “You drive a hard to resist bargain, Mr.” “Good.” He said, “you can rest for a bit, get some more food in you, and then maybe Vander will let you go home.”

“Oh, so I’m a captive now, am I?” You joked.

“You catch on fast.” Silco complimented with a small smile. And this time when he hesitantly took a step back down, you decided to follow him.

Something loosened in his face at the compliance, and without another word, he led you to the living room, which was in fact deliciously warm. The fire had been built high, and had bathed the room in a pleasant, orange glow. 

Drawn to the spot on the couch closest to the flames, you were too weak to resist slumping down on the comfortable cushions face first and letting out a delighted groan. You got his blanket thrown over your head for your troubles, but the position was too fantastic for you to care much.

Your mattress back home had several springs that dug into you regardless of how you positioned yourself on it. The couch by comparison, was like laying on a cloud. The thick blanket obscuring your upper body from view was just a bonus.

Footsteps beyond the wall of red fabric had your eyes slipping open again. Silco was laughing quietly to himself as he drew closer and set something down on the coffee table. A boot lightly tapped the fingers of the hand hanging over the side of the couch and resting against the rough rug. 

You grumbled and withdrew the hand. Snaking it back up the side of the couch to curl it against your chest.

Another huff, before gentle fingers curled around the edges of the blanket and pulled it back enough for you to catch sight of his soft expression.

Between the warmth, and the reassurance of having someone else to watch your back whilst you rested, your eyelids were already beginning to droop. 

“Don’t slip out without saying goodbye,” Silco warned quietly, softening his voice when he realised how difficult you were finding it to keep from drifting off. “Or I’ll rally half of the Lanes to hunt you down.” The firm look in his eye told you just how serious he was being, so you nodded once to let him know that you were listening. “Here’s the key to the door if you’re going to have a nap,” he pulled said key out of his pocket to show to you before he set it down on the coffee table beside what you realised was another bowl of gently steaming soup and a glass of water. When he’d disappeared to go retrieve either, you had no idea. “I’m heading back upstairs to help run the food, so I’m going to lock you in with Vander’s spare.”

Which was kind of sweet. Your inability to willingly fall asleep without a locked door between you and the outside world hadn’t come up more than once before. To think that he had remembered, let alone was going out of his way to help you feel safe and secure, was endearing.

“Of course, if you don’t want us to be able to come in or out whilst you’re asleep, just leave this key in the back of the lock. I’ve woken up one too many times to Vander just looming at the end of the couch because he wasn’t sure how to wake me up without getting stabbed.”

You didn’t think you’d ever heard Silco talk so much in such a short amount of time before. It was cute. How he rambled and went down a mental checklist to attend to your needs. A stark contrast to the bumbling Waiter who had tried to check on your well being earlier. It seemed that actions of care came easier to him than soft, careful words.

“Now if you need anything-” “Silco.” You interrupted.

He bit off his sentence and turned his full attention down to you. “Yes?” “Thank you.” You said, and you both knew it wasn’t just gratitude for the soup.

His eyes widened a fraction, before he promptly swept the look aside and nodded once. With that, he let the blanket fall back over your head, to which you spluttered and wiggled to poke your head out from under it. “Don’t mention it.” He said firmly, his footsteps light on the stairs as he showed himself out. 

The door closed behind him with a click. The fire popped and crackled in the grate, as you wiggled to get even more comfortable on the couch, sprawled out on your belly with your head pillowed under one of your arms. 

Sleep crept up on you more quickly than it had in months. Distantly, you heard the click of a lock at the top of the stairs, and felt the last dregs of your hypervigilance melt away as the remaining tension melted from your limbs. You fell into a deep, all consuming sleep. 

So deep, that when you eventually came to, you briefly did not know where you were. It was the familiar softness of the blanket pulled over your body and the absence of cold after so many weeks of shivering, that had you remembering your stupid decision to venture into The Last Drop despite the risks. 

You turned your head, and there was still a glass of water and bowl of soup on the table. Although the bowl had been switched out for a different one, the food inside was still steaming, suggesting someone had recently checked in on you and given you a warm replacement. The thought did not send panic spiking through you, but instead filled you with further warmth.

Deciding not to dwell on the feeling too much, you dragged yourself up into a sitting position. The absence of aches and pains was almost a surprise. You shoved that thought aside too, and swung your legs down to the floor so you could pick up the spoon and get another meal in you. Hunched over the coffee table, swimming in the blanket, you dug in. The soup made you almost too warm, but you revelled in it. After being cold for so long, being able to sweat felt like a luxury. 

There was a click of the lock above, and then the creak of the door being carefully pushed open. The hand not occupied with your spoon instinctively began to slide towards your boot, only to fall still when Silco closed the door behind him and began to climb down the stairs.

There was a weight to his strides now. A slant to his shoulders and the way he held his head that spoke of your ‘nap’ being more than a quick ten minutes. 

“The Enforcers are gone.” He said by way of greeting. You expected him to set his bowl and spoon down on the opposite couch, or to at least set his stuff down in front of the other couch cushion. But nope, he put it down practically on top of your own, paused long enough to untie and toss aside his apron, before sitting down heavily beside you. 

The warmth of his body sent tingles across your skin, and stalled your mind. Leaving him enough of an opening to begin to tug at the blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

“Hey!” You protested, dropping your spoon, to curl your fingers into the corners.

Silco huffed. “Just give it!”

He pried a corner out of your hands. You lunged for it. “Oi! You’re letting out all the heat.” “It’ll come back faster with two bodies.” He bit back, shoving your hands away, before giving the blanket a firm tug that freed a second corner. With a practiced smoothness, he pulled the corner in his hand over his shoulder, and slid even closer to you. Leaving the pair of you sandwiched together under it. “Besides it is my blanket, so I am entitled to at least half of it.”

“Yeah, well, finder’s keepers.” You returned, but did not try to reclaim the stolen corners. 

He did however, keep one nimble hand tightly wrapped around the corner pulled over his shoulder, as he picked up his spoon and dug into his meal with the other. 

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence whilst you finished eating. The scrape of spoons at the bottom of bowls accompanied by satisfied sighs. After which Silco slumped back against the backrest and allowed his eyes to slip closed in what you could only to describe as bliss, whilst you pulled your knife out of your boot, and your whetstone from your pocket to give the blade some TLC. It hadn’t seen much action since your self-imposed hibernation, and as a result, you’d ended up neglecting its care. A wrong easily righted with a little time and care. 

The fire was burning low and in need of a restock of fuel when the door to the living room unexpectedly BANGED open and cracked against the wall like a gunshot.

Silco snapped bolt upright from his nap, eyes wide and his head whipping round. Only to end up being shoved straight back down and out of your line of fire as you launched your knife at the person standing in the doorway. 

Your mind supplied you with Enforcers. The panic had you scrambling for a second knife, whilst Silco remained pressed back against the back of the couch by the hand splayed firmly across the centre of his chest.

Sevika’s impressed whistle had all thoughts of threats and escape melting out of your limbs.

Fingers falling loose around the hilt of the second knife, you found her stood with one hand still holding the door open, as she contemplated the blade embedded in the wood a mere hair’s breadth from the tip of her nose. 

With a sigh of relief, you unlocked the muscles in your other arm to let Silco sit forward again. He remained exactly where he was. Now fully awake and staring at you with a look of shock. You ignored him in favour of watching Sevika yank your knife out of the door. 

“Some backbone you have, Runt.” She said dangerously. “Disappearing on me, then trying to kill me when I’m already fucking pissed at you.” “Oh fantastic.” You drawled back, eyes tracking her as she slammed the door closed behind her and started striding down the stairs. “Are you here to claim we’re best friends too?” “No.” Sevika said, with a suitable amount of distaste. “I’m here to kill you after you disappeared on me without warning, and got me to genuinely begin worrying you’d died in an alleyway somewhere.” “Oh fuck off. We didn’t have any jobs scheduled.” “That is besides the fucking point!” She bellowed back, now stood at the end of the couch, glaring daggers at you.

Silco - who had the misfortune of now being sat between you two - glanced back and forth between you with noticeable uncertainty. 

The movement had Sevika’s dangerous eyes locking onto him. “Oi, Little Man.” His face contorted into offence. “Me?”

She made a show of looking around, then fixed him with another sharp, unimpressed glare. “Yes, you! Go back upstairs and get me a tankard of something strong. And a bowl of whatever Vander is cooking. I’ll keep an eye on the Runt, so they don’t scamper off.”

“Sure, but-” “I wasn’t asking you, just do it.”

He glared back at her, before shooting you an equally unimpressed look. You simply shrugged. “She’s a softie deep down. I’ll be fine.” “Don’t make me come over their Runt.” Sevika warned, even as she strode over to the other sofa, barely sparing you a second glare.

Her threat was a hollow one, and it made you shake your head. 

You felt safe in the basement of The Last Drop with these people, despite the Enforcers who had almost discovered your here. And you suspected it was because you knew that they would not be able to get to you. Not with these two idiots and the one upstairs looking out for you. Watching your back.

Which was a weird thought, since scarcely a year ago, you couldn’t have imagined being this comfortable around anyone. Let alone Sevika. But here you were.

It was snowing tonight. Not raining. Not hailing. But actually snowing. 

The dirty streets of the Undercity were lightly powdered with purifying white. They wouldn’t stay that way for long of course. Many boots would gradually work it all into a muddy slush, but for now, it was a nice thing to notice.

It was fucking cold though. The breeze was biting, even in a shirt and jacket. You tucked your head down into your collar, hands in your pockets.

The warm, orange light of the Last Drop pooled across the snow of the courtyard. Within, the building was full to bursting with bodies again. Folks hoping to hide from the cold and enjoy some good food and company for a little bit. Hoping to lose themselves in bets and games, to stop from longing for the ice to thaw.

You trudged past. Snow lightly freckling your cheeks.

The door creaked open behind you. Someone lightly called your name. Softly enough that you could easily ignore it. Pretend you hadn’t heard.

You turned anyway. And there was Silco, wearing his apron again, a small, private smile tugging at the corner of his lip as he held the door open for you. 

“Vander is already dishing you up a bowl.” He said by way of greeting.

Your eyes flickered from his loose hair, to the ruckus leaking out of the open door.

You could thank him and turn away. Disappear into the growing darkness despite the early hour. 

It would be cold in your apartment though. Not unbearable yet, the sun had only just set, but certainly noticeable.

Your feet move before you really make a decision, and you ducked under his arm.

Thank you so much for reading. Next chapter, WE'RE ON THE BRIDGE!! HELL YEAH!!

Previous Part <- Part 2 -> Next Part

Masterlist

[callsign-rogueone]

you called - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader You're captured by gryphon fliers while out alone on patrol, but Brennan comes to your rescue. [request] words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, as this occurs years before Fourth Wing, soon after Bren graduated from Basgiath. gender neutral reader in an established romantic relationship with Brennan. brief / vague descriptions of interrogation, torture, and inhumane treatment of reader by fliers, but Bren mends you and takes care of you (lots of cuddles). your dragon is mated to Marbh. her name is Fuir, a shortened form of the word for "alive" since Marbh means "dead". you sleep in Bren's shirt but there's no description of how it fits on you. wrote this in an hour and didn't edit so be nice pls

It’s easy enough to find the cell block. You’re the only prisoner there, with just one guard posted outside that Brennan makes quick work of, taking the keys from his belt to unlock the door.

He kneels down by your side, comforted by the rise and fall of your chest -- he’d known that you were still alive, because he is, as are Fuir and Marbh, but the visual confirmation is soothing.

He wraps a hand around your wrist to block the pain, using the other to start mending your wounds. Whoever had been interrogating you must have had a very short temper; your temples are bloodied, a few of your ribs bruised or broken, several small cuts dotting the exposed skin of your arms -- they’d taken your flight jacket, as a trophy.

He burns with anger, but forces himself to focus on the good, the fact that you’re still alive in front of him, that he’d found you before it was too late.

You finally open those pretty eyes, struggling to focus your gaze on him, but you put it together quickly enough. “Bren,” you murmur, delirious, “you came.”

“You called,” he answers simply, still working on mending your wounds.

It takes you a moment to work through the thick fog of what is definitely a concussion, but you realize he must have heard your desperate cries for help down the bond and came to find you; your plan worked.

You’d wanted to give up hope after the first day, but accepting your death meant accepting Brennan’s as well, and you couldn’t let him die like that, so you persevered. You’d forced yourself to eat what meager portions of food they’d given you, to drink the foul-tasting water and sleep as much as you could, to keep yourself alive.

Whenever they left you alone, you’d tried to reach for Fuir, for Brennan and Marbh, for your magic, getting no responses. After two days, you realized that they must have put a power-dampener in that water, like the one the professors had dosed you with before RSC to disconnect you from your dragons. So you’d stopped drinking it, pouring it out instead to make it look like you had -- and that night, you’d finally felt that little red string connecting you to Fuir, and the shimmering orange one that leads you to Brennan and Marbh. 

You’d cried in relief, trying to reach out to them, but your words had quickly turned to screams of pain as the officer returned to try to get information out of you again. They must have figured out your scheme, because the beating was the worst that day -- they’d hardly ever left you alone, giving you less than an hour between rounds of questioning.

You close your eyes again, realizing that this is probably a dream, a hallucination brought on by days of isolation in this dark room with only enough food and water to keep you alive. You aren’t really aware of how long it’s been. There’s no sunlight down here, and they haven’t been feeding you on a regular schedule, so you couldn’t keep track by counting the meals, either.

“I thought Navarre didn’t bother with extractions,” you mumble. 

“They don’t. So I might be court-martialed when we get back, but I don’t care. I couldn’t leave you here.”

“M’sorry,” you murmur. “Shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Thank you for finding me.”

“Don’t apologize, love. And I’ll always find you,” he promises, stroking your hair. “We’re tied together, aren’t we?”

You manage a soft laugh that quickly turns into a cough, your throat dry and raw from the screaming and from days without much water.

He decides he’s mended you enough for now -- you should be able to move now without injuring yourself further, and you really need to get out of here. “Up you get,” he coaxes, hooking an arm around your waist and helping you up from the floor.

Someone is waiting for you in the hallway -- someone dressed in black. A rider.  “Nao?” you ask, blinking at him. You really must be hallucinating.

The older rider smiles at you. “Hi, kid. Good to see you in one piece.” He turns to Brennan. “There’s two guards at each exit. We can take them, but they’ll probably sound an alarm.”

The two men continue to strategize, and you try to follow along, but most of the words go in one ear and out the other. You settle for leaning against Brennan and trying to stay awake.

“Hello, sweet one,” Fuir says gently, and you nearly cry at the familiar voice back in your head after days of isolation.

“Hi,” you respond in a whisper.

Brennan and Naolin have agreed on a plan, and you follow them closely, staying by Brennan’s side as they lead you out of the compound. Naolin makes quick work of both of the guards, knocking them out easily, and you slip past the treeline into the forest.

It’s freezing outside, literally -- your boots make tracks through the half-inch of snow on the ground that continues to fall gently, tiny flakes drifting through the air and coating everything in a thin layer of white.

You rub your hands over your arms, trying to keep warm. Brennan drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and you burrow into it, happy to be wrapped in the warmth and softness of the fur-collared fabric and the comforting smell of your partner. 

You finally spot Fuir -- she looks a little worse for wear, too, cuddled up with Marbh, who is licking her wounds like an oversized cat. Cute.

“Can you still make it home?” you ask, concerned.

She sounds slightly offended. “Of course I can. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She lays down, making it easier for you to climb up her leg. As you settle into your seat, you can feel invisible bands of magic keeping you in place -- you breathe a sigh of relief that you won’t have to worry about keeping your seat as you pass over the mountain range. You have no idea how long of a flight it’s going to be, but you don’t think you could handle more than a few minutes in the saddle.

“Now would be an excellent time to leave!” Naolin shouts from his perch on the back of Tairn’s neck.

You turn your head, seeing three gryphons closing in from your right. Shit.

“We’ll be fine,” she soothes. “If we get high enough, they won’t be able to follow us.”

You shut your eyes tightly as the cold wind hits your cheeks, making your eyes water -- they’d taken your goggles too, and all your knives, everything except your base layer of clothing. She raises her head, blocking the worst of it, tightening up her formation with Tairn and Marbh, letting each of them protect you from one side.

“I think we lost them,” Brennan tells you through the bond, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Fuir adjusts the invisible ties keeping you seated, guiding you forward to lean against the back of her neck. “Rest. It’s another hour to get home.”

You hum in reply, pulling Brennan’s cloak tighter around your shoulders and relaxing into her. She feels warmer than usual, likely because you’re freezing cold.

You wake to the feeling of the wind dying down, and her wings stilling as she lands.

She settles down into the snowy grass, letting you climb down slowly. 

Brennan is waiting on the ground to help you, gathering you into his arms. “Let’s get you to the infirmary,” he coaxes.

You shake your head no. “Want you to do it,” you say quietly. 

He caves easily, leading you to his room, keeping you tucked into his side with a strong arm around your waist. Nobody questions it or stops you on the way up, your bloodied appearance perfectly normal for a rider.

He settles you into his desk chair, starting to mend the smaller cuts and bruises that he hadn’t gotten to earlier. The warmth of his hands and the feeling of the aching pain subsiding relaxes you, your eyes falling shut.

“You think you can shower?” he asks gently.

You nod. You don’t want to get up, but you do feel absolutely disgusting after the last four days, and a shower is definitely in order. Two showers, probably. 

You follow him into the en-suite bathroom, going through the motions without thought -- washing the blood from your skin, scrubbing off the dirt and making an attempt at washing your hair. Brennan stands by your side, showering himself in near-silence, washing off the day. 

He wraps you in a warm towel, letting you rest against him for a moment. “You should eat something,” he says gently.

You burrow deeper into him in protest. “Later,” you murmur. You just want to sleep. It’s late, nearing lights-out anyway, and you need to rest up for the inevitable scolding you’re going to get tomorrow morning.

“Do you want one of your shirts, or mine?” he asks.

“Yours, please,” you answer quietly; his clothes are always more comfortable, more comforting to you, and you could use that extra layer of his presence right now. You finish drying yourself off, letting him slip one of his black tunics over your head and wiggling your arms into the sleeves.

He pulls the covers back, motioning for you to climb into bed with him. The softness of the mattress underneath you and the feel of warm, clean blankets against your skin after three days of sleeping on a dirty stone floor is overwhelming. You finally start to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re safe, my love,” he soothes, holding you close. “You’re home, with me.”

“I know,” you whisper, trying to steady your breathing. “I know, I just…”

He shushes you softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I love you, and that I will never let anything like that happen to you again.”

You nod against his shoulder. “Love you too,” you sniff. “Thank you for finding me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I will always find you.”

You relax into him, comforted by the warmth of his body against yours, the muscled arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne that lingers on the sheets. This is the safest place in the world, right here -- not Navarre, not the fortress, but this room, this bed, because Brennan is in it, holding you.

“Get some sleep,” he encourages. “I’ll be right here with you.”

You hum in reply, nuzzling your cheek into his chest and letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep.

[copinghex]

Green Lane | T.S

Summary: The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. Tommy set his wife free.

A/N: I wanted to try something different :)

The house smelled of tea and eggs, the white lace curtains swayed with the morning breeze, the plates with the rest of breakfast were still set and the cat soon would hop on the table to eat.

Tommy was off to work and the baby was crying.

Laying on the bed, Mrs. Shelby barely listened, constant migraines tortured her since the birth of her child. Jacqueline or “Jackie” had a bright smile and reacted quickly to her father's voice, she also refused to be left on the crib for more than five minutes, clingy and stubborn as her father.

Her sight went dark and the baby still cried. She pictured her forcing a louder scream out of the tiny lungs. Her chest burnt in hatred. Why wouldn't it just give up?

Something metallic hit the floor down the kitchen, the cat knocked the kettle off the sink, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands covered her head, tugging on locks of hair.

Her teeth ground, head about to explode, in fetal position her knees almost touched her forehead. She needed silence. She needed everything to go away,

Go away…

Go away…!

A guttural scream was heard by the neighbors. Something was wrong with Mrs. Shelby.

—

The Green Lane looked beautiful at night, unlike the Watery, which seemed to never sleep, it was quiet, the only sounds were grasshoppers and the cars of tired husbands returning to their wives.

There were trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. When Mrs. Shelby turned her back to the house, she saw the world clearer.

Ada lulled Jacqueline in her arms, she brought pastries from a nearby bakery and cleaned the kitchen. The only sound in the living room was the crackling fireplace. Her sister-in-law stood by the window and didn't give hints she'd make dinner or pick up the baby any soon.

To Ada, the signs were obvious, a severe case of baby blues, she feared for Tommy's reaction, God knew he had too much on his back with the expansion to London. Still, she knew he'd be the only one able to pull Mrs. Shelby from rock bottom.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in, when Ada got a call from a neighbor asking to check if something happened, she pitied Tommy above everything.

When he arrived, the house was dark. He walked in with quick, worried steps, calling for a wife who didn't answer. Finding Ada didn't bring much relief. She had vowed to stay away from business, an unscheduled nightly visit couldn't be good.

Jackie cooed at the sight of her father and the sound got Mrs. Shelby’s attention. Her face didn't change at Tommy's presence, as a matter of fact, her greetings sounded forced, leaning more towards polite than affectionate.

“Stay for dinner, Ada,” he offered.

“No, I just came for afternoon tea, why don't you walk me to the car?”

As the siblings left, she knew they were talking about her. She also couldn't deny the inner peace she felt being completely alone in the living room.

—

No one was sure if the pills were working. The migraines were gone, opening space for, as Finn explained about Arthur, “not being there in head.”

Tommy also planned a honeymoon in Gretna Green for the next year. It wouldn't be possible at that moment because of business and the baby, even if the doctor's recommendation was to breathe new airs for a while.

Tommy slept with Lizzie that morning, Mrs. Shelby could tell by the floral perfume in his collar when he got home, she should've searched for the reasons behind it, if it was about him or about her, but with dinner on the stove and Jacqueline babbling, she couldn't focus on anything else. Her brain wasn't the same anymore.

They listened to the weather forecast and a soap opera on the radio before going to sleep, although Tommy suspected she wasn't actually listening. She rested her head on his thigh the whole time and he noticed her eyelids were shaking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I wish you'd set me free.”

—

It was hard to get decent doctors those days, Tommy struggled with not cursing them off, all he was asking for was to find the source of his wife's condition, not to dope her off.

Without the pills, the migraines were back, a maid cleaned and cooked so her only responsibility was to watch Jacqueline. Tommy didn't trust babysitters, the way business was going, he didn't trust anyone.

Around three o'clock, Mrs. Shelby bathed the baby, summer made her sweaty and moody, she cried much more than usual.

The bathtub was covered in bubbles, “Songs my mother taught me” by Nellie Melba played from the gramophone downstairs. Jackie moved too much while the mum undressed her, her pinkish dress fell on the floor.

The maid was already gone and Mrs. Shelby did everything in her reach to keep the house as clean as possible, holding the baby's arms down so she wouldn't splash the water.

It was not working, she was crying. Both were. Mrs. Shelby covered Jacqueline's mouth and pushed her down. The noise stopped, she held the tiny arms again. Jacqueline wasn't strong or aware enough to come back from under the water, the soap burnt her lungs.

The writhing was making Mrs. Shelby nervous, her grip got tighter. Just when the song ended, the writhing did too. She pulled Jacqueline up. Her eyes didn't open, her arms fell to the side. Weird.

Mrs. Shelby shook the baby's chin. Nothing. Tommy. Tommy would know what to do. She needed Tommy.

Running to the phone in the living room, she could barely get the words off. He assured her he was coming and told her to calm down. She spent the next minutes walking between the bathroom and the kitchen, she knew she should do something, take the baby off the bathtub, call an ambulance, anything, she couldn't, she always froze at the bathroom's door, her feet and brain worked together to spare her from the morbid scene.

With tears in her eyes, she sat on the kitchen's floor, her back leaned against the cabinets she carefully chose months ago. They matched nicely with the curtains and wallpapers. Everything in Green Lane was perfect.

Tommy only caught a glimpse of his wife before running to his daughter and the world stopped.

No, no, please no, fuck, Mrs. Shelby heard.

The sound of a cocking gun put her mind to alert. She ran out the front door like a scared animal. His daughter was dead. Tommy followed after, he had her at gunpoint.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run…

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

Tommy pulled the trigger.

She was free.

[writingoddess1125]

Hair disaster

Just a Brain Blah

Buggy x FemReader + Dee & Bee

Apart of Old Man Series check those out!

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• You all should have known the twins would find trouble- they always did. This was only amplified by their jealousy of the new baby on the way.

• Due to the recent news of your pregnancy (check out here) You had been being watched by Buggy like a hawk, paranoid of all things which made the twins more aggressive in their destructive tendencies.

• So in order to keep the twins busy he had taken the difficult job of letting the twins be his apprentices-

• It was a way to keep them busy, for Buggy to go out to sea for short periods and in Buggy's words 'Teach them to be real pirates!'

• The next morning at breakfast the twins sit down at the dinning room table, Trying to be as quiet as possible and grab some things like they were prepared to run off.

• For the first few weeks they enjoyed it- Till the reality of chores set in. When they tried to throw a fit Buggy was quick to put a end to that and the boys were now just grumpy.

• It had been a week out to sea with the twins before he returned with some spare loot and things needed for the baby. The twins sour faced-

• "How was everything?" You questioned as you sat in the large lounge chair Buggy had gotten you and saw how dirty and tired the three looked.

• "Ask your sons-" Buggy said, However the steeled glare from you made him mutter a 'Our' and that he was going to shower and sleep in the guest room.

• The boys were no better then Buggy as they grumbled as well and climbed upstairs to clean themselves and sleep. Seemed you got the master bedroom to yourself-

• "Whats got you two in such a rush?" You question, seeing that gleam of mischief on their faces and also some guilt-

• "BOYS!!!!" A loud and wrathful yell sounded throughout the cabin.

• "We aren't in a rush mom- Just have things to do since we are 'apprentices' Right?" Dee said calmly as he looked to Bee who grinned and nodded.

• You raised a brow at their words, Going to question them further when a roar sounded through the house.

• You snap your head to look at the boys but see they had already gone- Clearly had run the moment they heard the voice.

• Blonde- So much blonde in his hair- It seemed like half his hair had been dyed in his sleep by the twins. Most likely using Burondo Burondo Oil that Cabaji used in his hair-

• You quickly rush upstairs, Afraid of what you would see and dash into the guest bathroom were you could hear Buggy yelling.

• However nothing would prepare you for what you saw.

•"I-Its pretty-" You try but he glares hard at you, Grumbling and angrily ranting to himself.

• It took every bit of your soul to keep from laughing.

• "Pretty!? PRETTY MY ASS!" He roared as he stomped his foot more and lost his mind.

• "Buggy- It doesn't look that bad I promise" You say grabbing his hand slowly, Knowing he was very mad right night and needed to calm down before he did something he would regret.

• He turned to you like he was going to scream and lose his temper- However he forced his mouth closed and bit his lips in anger.

• "It doesn't look bad Buggy. Besides it looks like it's Burondo Burondo Oil anyway which fades after a few days to the original color. So it's not very permanent" You reason, giving his hand a squeeze.

• Buggy sighs at this- knowing you were right but still angry. You reach out and touch his newly blonde hair.

• "And it looks pretty! Blonde hair goes well with blue eyes" You point out and say cheerfully. Buggy grumbling still but his spare hand just rubbing your unshowing stomach still.

• You let him do this, despite not being in the mood for physical touch. "Better?"

• "Better..." He grumbled, clearly still irritated but better now. You finally ask him to explain why the twins did this.

• "They wanted to revolt because 'being a apprentice is hard!' so I had them sweep the entire deck. Teach them that Mutiny is always punished" He said calmly, a fair punishment by pirate standards as the twins clearly were in the wrong.

• "But since they wanna be petty now- I can do that as well-" He said with a wicked grin.

• Gods help you all..

• Walking down to the docks for some fresh air, you heard the loud laughs of Buggy and the crew. Following the sound you see them all lounging at the docks drinking and watching the Big Top?-

• Getting close you saw it- The Big Top was covered in tomatoes and other random garbage on it like it had been vandalized!

• Rushing over you then see it- The twins on Ropes cleaning off the vandalism. While Buggy amd the crew hand tomatoes and random things throwing it at any spots they felt they missed.

• "BUGGY!" You yell as you see him fling a tomato at his sons head. The Captian turning to look back at you.

• "Oh (Y/N)! Come sit! Join us!" He insisted with a grin.

• "Doesnt this seem too cruel?" You pointed out. Pointing to the clearly pissed off boys

• "Now my Doll, You have been a wonderful mother. But you have spoiled these two rotten! It's time they get a hard lesson" He said as he patted your shoulder and had you sit to watch.

• You didn't know it was possible for two people alone to clean and repaint an entire ship but sure as hell did Buggy have them do it

• It being nightfall when they finished and glaring hard at Buggy- Cleaely this wasn't over. They had lost this battle but wanted to win the war-

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part VIII

Hello again, part viii is finally out. One last chapter left of this series. I hope it’s been enjoyable so far. This one is a bit short, but don’t worry. The next part will be longer. Tomorrow will officially be the last update. I hope you all return for the next series I write. You know the drill, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII  Part IX

Word Count: 954

You stumbled on your feet a little as you walked downstairs, in a daze as Stu set you onto the counter. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to help Billy with Colton, you grimaced as you saw him and looked away. “Awe come on sweetheart, I saw the photos you had of Casey and Steve in your room,” Billy said with a chuckle, “It’s different in real life, huh? After they die though, it’s kinda the same as seeing it online or in photos. They don’t look real anymore,” he said as you shook your head, “my side hurts,” you said as you looked to them.

Stu was quick to look over your wounds, glaring at Billy and punching his shoulder. “You hit deep, fuckrag,” he said as you whimpered. “Come on sweetie, you’re strong, you can last a little longer, right?” Stu said as he cupped your cheek, your eyes began to well with tears again as you nodded. “Yeah, I can,” you said with a sniffle. Billy was by your side now, kissing you and apologizing over and over as he patched you up. “Come on, little bunny, we gotta get ready now, Tate’s gonna be here soon,” he said as he kissed your cheek and helped you off the counter.

You were sat on the floor of Stu’s kitchen, feeling a jab at your shoulder and blinking in surprise when you saw Dewey hovering above you. “Hey kid,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked at you. “Dewey,” you said softly, sniffling and letting out a little yelp as he picked you up. “You’re pretty good with a sewing kit by the looks of it,” he said as he looked to the first aid kit next to you. “Oh, yeah, my mom taught me…” you mumbled out, squinting when you saw the daylight. You didn’t remember what time last night you had fallen asleep. You remember Tatum coming back to the house, after the boys dealt with her you remember being in the back of Stu’s car. Stu stayed with you until Billy gave him his queue, after that, things got a little blurry. You remember them hyping each other up about something and their groans, you remember the blood on the kitchen floor of…Stu’s house. After that you remember one of the boys trying to stitch up the wound they gave you, to make it more believable they said. You couldn’t remember which one of them it was, at that point you had began to get a little dizzy.

“Stu…Billy… Where? Are they okay?” You asked as Dewey looked to you. “We’re still taking a look around the house. We’ll let you know if we find them, okay?” He said as he brought you to the ambulance, setting you down for the EMS to check on you. As the minutes passed you saw gurneys with black bags being hauled out, Dewey walking to his patrol car and crying, but eventually you saw Stu on a gurney. Your heart fluttered knowing he was okay, you looked to the paramedic and asked if you could go check on him, thanking them and slowly walking over, being mindful of your injuries. “Stu,” you called out, the older boy looking at you and smiling. “Hey,” he said as he reached for your hand. A moment later you saw Billy, feeling relieved knowing both of them were okay.

You rubbed at your eyes as a few tears fell, feeling everything from the last few hours hitting you like a ton of bricks. You could hear voices in the background, looking up when you heard your parents calling your name. You groaned as they ran to hug you, Stu’s hand slipping from your grip. “I’m okay, really, it’s just a scratch,” you tried to play off, receiving even stronger hugs and more kisses from them.

You noticed a few officers making their way towards you and Stu, both gladly giving them the same story of what happened that night.

All about how ghostface tried to attack you on the porch, how the three of you did your best to get out before learning it was mr prescott behind the mask. How he was going berserk because of the anniversary of Maureen. After he thought he wounded the three of you he left in Stu’s car, meanwhile the three of you were left wounded and exhausted.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the shuttering of cameras and announcements in stuck up news reporter voices not too far. The paramedics treated you, but with the prices of ambulances your parents opted to drive you to the hospital themselves. You looked to your side as you walked to your parents car, seeing Gale Weathers and her henchman with the camera. You frowned, shooting your middle finger at them before climbing into the car. You looked out the window, smiling as you saw the boys parents taking them back into their cars and away from the crime scene.

You were happy to know they were okay, to know they were getting their big dream of being directors of their own movie, to know you all could finally be together. Although you hated the way the girls were left, you couldn’t deny the little twinge of jealousy from last night. They had Billy and Stu all to themselves for so long, when the boys revealed themselves to you, you felt jealous to know Tatum and Sidney had been with them. Despite the small amount of sadness you had now that they were dead, you felt a bit of happiness knowing they were gone and you could have the boys to yourself now instead.