#this isn’t gonna do ANYTHING about my stupid gay yearning

[jameswilsonsupremacy]

rewatching the boys in the band (2020) and am totally normal rn

[galacticgraffiti]

If You Want to Give Me Anything (Then Give In)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 1.8k Summary: Ghoap are gay. They are soldiers. They yearn and flirt and it's not really anything. Is it? (Soap POV) CW: Mentions of (past) homophobia towards Soap, blood, canon-typical violence, Ghost gets hurt bad, yearning, awful flirting (I promise all ends well) A/N: Found the dividers here. huuuuuge shoutout to @patchmates for being my wonderful wonderful beta and affirming me that i do have some grasp on these two fuckers. mwah mwah!

♦ My Masterlist • If you prefer AO3 ♦

Part I

It’s been going on for weeks. Months, even. It’s never really anything – stupid banter, dumb jokes between mates. Flirting the way men in the military flirt with each other. It’s normal. It’s not anything, no more than bonding and the lack of opportunities to get laid. It’s the way they communicate. Soap knows this, has done this, has been doing this for years.

It’s never anything.

The most it usually led to was teasing remarks from his mates – I’ll start to think ya mean it, Tav, if ya keep goin’ like that. The worst it has led to was hatred and fear, it was slurs smeared on his door and shit in his bed. Shoves and elbows in the locker room that bruised, a cracked rib and no one to help him. Dirty looks, always in places the higher-ups won’t see.  Not that they would have done anything about it.

It’s been years since Soap has let it escalate like that, though, he’s learned from his experiences. Doesn’t try anything with military men, not anymore, because it’s never been safe, and he’s been sold out for a laugh one too many times to risk it.

Instead, every once in a while, he finds himself a nice bloke to fuck when he’s on leave, always a one-and-done deal, never more, never longer. He doesn’t want anybody crying for him when he doesn’t make it back.

Soap doesn’t think too hard on the fact that he hasn’t found anyone in months. Hasn’t had the desire to. Hasn’t gone out to meet anbody, hasn’t even kissed another person… Not since he joined the 141. Not since-

It’s never anything.

“Johnny,” the hushed whisper in his ear rips him from his musings. Soap scoffs to himself. Fuckin’ perfect timing this one has, always. Like he fucking knows when Soap is-

Christ, shut up. Shut up.

His own mic crackles to life when Soap clears his throat.

“Aye, what’s the matter then, LT?”

“You gonna move your arse some time today? Gonna start to think you’re squattin’ just to give me somethin’ nice to look at, eh?”

(It’s never anything.)

“Fuck off, LT, I was readin’!” Soap defends himself. With a guilty pang, he waves the stack of papers he has gathered in the air as if to prove it. He knows Ghost can see him, knows the building has been cleared, which is why Soap allowed himself to get so fucking distracted in the first place.

Stupid, MacTavish. So fucking stupid. One of these days it’ll get ye fuckin’ killed.

“Slow reader, are ya? Always took ya for faster than that.”

“Och, away an’- brain goes too fast, cannae keep the words straight,” Soap mumbles, more to himself. He doesn’t owe Ghost a fucking explanation, the wanker. Certainly won’t explain that he was actually distracted by the thought of what it might feel like to roll up that mask, kiss the scars that hide under there, kiss the-

“Straight, huh? Unlike-”

A gurgling scream cuts Ghost off mid-word. All of a sudden it’s so fucking quiet on the other end.

Soap bites his tongue so hard he tastes blood. Surely this is just Ghost fucking with him (he has never done this before, would be against regulations). Surely, this is just Ghost dicking around; his voice will crackle to life in Soap’s ear again, rough and beautiful like always and Soap will call him a bastard and Ghost will call him a wanker, and Soap will make a joke about wanking and-

(It’s never anything.)

A few seconds pass. The line stays quiet.

“Ghost?” Soap isn’t panicking. He is too good for that. But he is worried, can hear it in his own voice, can feel his heartbeat thunder in his ears. “LT, request ye check in.”

Nothing. Silence on Ghost’s end, deadly and dripping in violence.

“Fuck. Fuck,” Soap whispers to himself.

Decides to just take the stack of papers, shoves them all in his pack. He can sort through them later. The others are too far away, it was supposed to be just him and Ghost, and Ghost wasn’t even supposed to get involved. A silent takedown, this was meant to be, a quick slitting of throats, one guard killed by Ghost’s fatal trigger finger and two more when Soap snapped their necks. Nobody was ever supposed to know they were here. Nobody did know.

“LT, how copy?” he repeats, just to make sure.

There is nothing, then-

A crackle, a groan, the huff of someone whose air is getting pressed out their lungs, then shrill feedback that nearly blows Soap’s eardrums out and then – silence again. Cursed fucking silence, which means nothing good, nothing fucking good has ever come of silence.

Soap’s blood roars.

Fuck. FUCK!

Soap books it. He’s out the door in seconds, out the buildings within the minute, sprinting full speed to where he knows Ghost’s vantage point was.

Can’t be too late, can’t be too late, he’s never been too late, Ghost is good, he’s so fucking good at what he does, he’s fine, he has to be-

All Soap hears is the cracking of dry wood beneath his soles as he slows down, approaching the nest Ghost had built to keep Johnny safe from afar. Not a single sound in the air, not a fucking bird singing.

“LT,” Soap hisses through his teeth. “LT, ye hear me?”

A quiet groan rips through the silence, there is the barely audible stir of metal against metal, and then-

“Johnny?”

“Fuck!”

Around the tree, just steps away from Soap, Ghost is propped up, a man curled over him in a weird position, leaking red from a smile that’s too low to be his mouth. Ghost’s one hand is curled in the man’s hair, fist so tight it must be white underneath the dark fabric of his glove.

His other hand holds the knife, dripping blood, fingers curled loosely around the hilt. The moment Ghost’s dark eyes meet Soap’s, the knife clatters to the ground.

Johnny is by his side in no time at all, is cradling his head in his own bloodied hands, is staring at him, trying to gauge how bad it is.

“He get ye, LT?”

Ghost just groans in response, shoves the dead body off his lap as he nods in sluggish motions.

“Fucker came from the back, had a knife in my fuckin’ side before I knew what was what- cut my fuckin’ mic off-”

Soap’s fingers search frantically for the wound, find it, press down on it, down on the hot blood like he could keep it inside if he tried hard enough.

“Yer so fuckin’ pale I couldnae tell if ye were bleedin’ oot, LT,” he jokes weakly.

“Be fine, Sergeant.” Ghost stares at him with intent eyes, something in there Soap can’t quite place. “Be alright. You’re here now, aren’t ya?”

Soap nods, still pressing down on the wound.

“I go’ ye, Ghost. I’ve got ye now. Even have what we came for,’s all right here.”

“Well done, sweet’eart.” Ghost’s eyes are slipping shut as he says it, and Soap’s heart skips a beat – skips two beats, only to make up for it after. Blood soaks Soap’s hands but all he can hear is Ghost’s gritty voice. Sweet’eart.

It’s never anything.

But Soap is weak, he’s so fucking weak for this man, and words push their way past his lips before he can hold them back, bottle them up like he has done for months, like he does every time Ghost opens his damn mouth, and now he’s bleeding and-

“Don’t- fuckin’ say tha’ if ye don’t mean it, LT,” Johnny chokes out, his voice rough.

“Mmm.”

The sound Ghost makes is barely a sound at all. His eyes don’t open when Soap taps his cheek, and suddenly, Soap’s heart is racing for a different reason entirely.

“Oy- OY! Stay with me now, LT, come on- come on, I’ll call for help, we’ll fix ye right up, won’t we- Ghost- Simon!” Soap is definitely not panicking. He’s too good for that. His fingers are not shaking when he calls it in, his voice does not break when he hears Price confirm they are just two minutes out. Soap’s eyes are dry as he keeps talking to Ghost – taling to Simon –, as he patches up the wound as best he can, and keeps talking and talking and talking.

“Come on, doll. Come on, ye cannae die on me now, I fuckin’ refuse tae let ye. Ye will die when I fuckin’ say so an’ no’ a day before tha’, do ye hear me, Simon? Ye do nae get tae call me sweetheart an’ then just pass tae fuck oot so ye don’ have tae talk aboot it, who do ye think ye are, ye absolute rocket-”

Brown eyes blink awake, just for a moment, to stare at Soap from far away, clouded and tired with pain.

“You’re no better, Sergeant, are you? You and those fuckin’...” Ghost drifts off, mumbles something incoherent. Soap slaps his cheek, and Simon’s eyes slowly open again. “Mm, those… those bloody… fuck-me eyes ya make at me...”

What? 

Soap’s hand comes down again, harder and harder, slaps Simon awake again when his eyes – his beautiful eyes, framed by the whitest lashes Johnny has ever seen – threaten to close again.

“The fuck are ye on aboot, Ghost? Think all tha’ blood loss is gettin’ to ye, aye? Come on, hold on fer me just a little while longer, the Captain will be right there and we’ll get ye oot, come now, love-”

“Love.” Johnny can hear Simon smile through the mask, can see the crinkles of his skin and the corners of his eyes lift. “Gotta die for you to call me that, Johnny?”

“I’ll call ye tha’ whenever ye fuckin’ like if ye stay alive fer me, love.” Soap is not panicking. It’ll all be fine. Surely it will all be fine, God would not be so cruel-

“MacTavish!”

Price’s hand on his shoulder, just as Ghost sags down again, eyes fluttering closed. Impossibly white lashes against the stark, dead black of his greasepaint, covering the freckles Soap knows he hides there. Soap stares at him, presses the hands that cradled his face to Simon’s neck now, can feel a pulse, just barely.

Price is shaking him by the shoulder, impatient, worried.

“Come, Sergeant. Exfil point five minutes out, gotta carry this heavy fucker there somehow.”

“I’ll take him,” Soap says numbly, bats Price’s hand away when he offers to help him up. “Come on, Cap, I said I’ll fuckin’ take him.”

God fuck, Ghost is so heavy. Don’t call him dead weight, just don’t, he’s not- he can’t- he won’t be- he’ll be fine, just fine.

They make it. Just barely, just so, but they make it.

➤ Part II

taggies for some beloveds and moots (lmk if this is not ur thing/u don't want to be tagged!) Likewise, if you're not tagged but would like to be pls shoot me a DM.

@ulchabhangorm @purgetrooperfox @baba-fett @pinkiemme @amikoroyaiart @witchklng @lee-kestrelrain @thotmachinebroke

[raetreaderarts]

This could’ve been attached to my last post but I didn’t think I was gonna be mentally ill all the way into 6 in the morning (ADHD time works different than regular time and I hate it)

ANYWAYS allow me to discuss these two. Under this little read more tab. If you wanna hear about my stupid gay ass simping for this beautiful old lady. I mean I certainly don’t see a ring on that finger.

OKAY SO I imagine that at some point Virus ends up hitching a ride on the Brave Asigiri and when Diana joins the gang it’s love at first sight for Virus. Like at first she’s like “oh yeah I just think she’s cool” but then she realizes she wants to do things like hold hands and hear her voice and she’s like OH NO. AM I GAY??? Because she’s like 21 at this point, I changed her age cause I’m turning 22 in a couple weeks but anyways, she’s gone through 21 years of her life assuming she’s straight. Meanwhile Diana’s already come to terms with her bisexuality and is quite comfortable with the identity she’s come to know over her 60-ish years, I just put 64 as like an approximation and also it’s like Super Mario 64 which is pretty cool.

Before Diana leaves, Virus finally ends up confessing and Diana already knew Virus was down bad cause Virus’s eyes were always filled with yearning whenever she looked at Diana. But Diana says that this isn’t gonna work cause she’s gotta go and adventure, and Virus is fucking distraught but of course she respects Diana’s wishes. HOWEVER even when Diana does leave she just cannot get Virus out of her mind, so at some point afterwards she sends her squakabilly to give Virus a letter, and they end up meeting again and going on adventures together. Cause Virus is a homebody, but as soon as she met Diana, she became her new home.

They’re pretty great together since Diana is an ambivert and Virus has an anxiety disorder, so Diana can speak up for Virus in public situations but they can also just have quiet vibing hangout sessions. Virus doesn’t fully understand Diana’s passions all the time since she’s admittedly a bit dense but she always listens when Diana wants to share information about Rakua with her.

This paragraph is a tad risqué

Virus is definitely more of a like, naughty thinker I guess, but she feels embarrassed and weird about it so she doesn’t usually say anything until Diana teases it out of her. Meanwhile Diana is fully aware of how dirty minded Virus can be and she loves messing with Virus just to make her get all flustered and red in the face, sometimes whispering an innuendo in her ear or discreetly squeezing a part of her body. Since Diana is experienced with these sorts of things, she knows the exact buttons to push in order to make Virus squeal.

Ok that’s it for the risqué stuff. I know it was pretty tame but I like to add warnings just in case

Both of them have their bodily insecurities, with Virus dreading her round face and pudginess and Diana worrying that her golden years are over, but they both completely adore every single bit of each other. Virus has always been into older people, wrinkles and stretch marks and cellulite drive her absolutely insane so of course she would find Diana attractive. Meanwhile Diana loves Virus’s round face and pudgy body because she finds her to be absolutely adorable.

They’re both fairly competent when it comes to pokemon battling, Virus has her drizzile as her ace and of course Diana has her arcanine. If I had a nickel for every old person with an arcanine I crushed on I’d have two nickels. Anyways since they can cover each other’s weaknesses they make for a great team. While Diana goes for speed, Virus goes for power.

Alright like I said it’s 6 am so I need to go to bed, I was planning on going to bed at 12 but obviously that did not happen, I can see the sun peeking through my window god help me. As always if you guys got any questions you can ask, if you’re interested in this pairing let me know before I end up fixating on Cookie Run again, all that good stuff 👍

[zevzevarainai]

Hey! You ever end up doing essay on the kazumaji gifs? (I'm highly interested because it's always majima o' clock where I live)

it’s always majima o’clock here too; maybe we live in the same area... but lmao i didnt write the essay on my kazumaji gifs because i didnt think anyone would want to hear it so i meant it more as a per request kind of deal. and you’re requesting. I want you to know you did this to yourself, my friend

below the read more for everyone’s well being. welcome to my first official majima analysis essay

ok so in those tags i said something like majima is softest with kiryu because it is absolutely the truth (unless you count makoto, which i love them too, but majima has moved on or at least is making an effort to. and that was pre-tacky snake skin jacket and pre-mad dog persona.) 

the prompt for the gifset was “maybe something about majima being stupid and unhinged but like, in a sweet way” and the whole point of this rambling is that kiryu is really the only one we see who causes the mad-dog persona to slip. kiryu says he can never get a read on majima but just because he is unpredictable doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand that he isn’t just batshit crazy. he trusts majima, and finds comfort in his lack of predictability, keeping kiryu’s life exciting and providing distraction from the insane amount of tragic shit that happens to kiryu. and majima has a similar experience of idolizing the yakuza lifestyle as teens/young adults only to have the yakuza drag them through hell. But this is supposed to be about Majima.

ANYWAY what GETS ME is again that mad-dog vibe slipping around kiryu. the only time we really only see it again is with Saejima when he comes back from jail. i’m gonna talk about that later too. LET’s GET TO THE GIFS i’m going in chronological order not the order i put them in

1)

Ok so as an audience, we don’t really know what happened between Kiryu and Majima between Yakuza Zero and Yakuza/Yakuza Kiwami. Yes, we get that tiny ending scene of Majima going KIRYU-CHAN for the first time and Kiryu smiling at him. But we are given nothing as to how they met or why Majima started calling him Kiryu-chan. It is left completely to the audience’s interpretation. Because then it goes straight to the first scene with Majima in Yakuza/Yakuza Kiwami after Kiryu gets out of jail. It implies that they already knew each other, and arguably that they were somewhat close -- close enough for Majima to “miss him.” (What was majima doing for those 10 years, i don’t know, but he clearly wasn’t in a great place, missing both kiryu, makoto, and saejima, we ignore y5 lore in this household or make up shit to fill in the giant gaps) You could argue that Majima missing Kiryu is just Majima being “crazy haha woah” but his character is so much deeper than that, and it’s proven in this gif’s scene. Yes he is fighting Kiryu with all his men. But if you are reading this you understand that them fighting physically all the time is a secret love language. They never intend to severely hurt each other. Fighting is how they know that they have an equal, someone else who was modeled into a weapon because of the Tojo Clan.

And yes, “He belongs to me!” is an extremely gay thing to say. He doesn’t even need to say that, though. One of his men didn’t understand that he doesn’t actually want to hurt Kiryu. The guy picked up Majima’s knife and tried to actually hurt Kiryu. Majima willingly gets stabbed so Kiryu doesn’t get hurt. That’s a handful of gay subtext right there. Majima’s first scene in y1 is about how the world is a horrible, shitty place that will chew you up and spit you out if you care. Then he goes and gets stabbed. Self-sacrificially. He cares about Kiryu, even if it hurts. 

2)

This one isn’t as deep. It stems of the same concept of them fighting each other as equals. Majima explicitly says more than once that strength is the most admirable trait, Goromi says that it only matters that a man is strong. Kiryu is the only person who presents a challenge to him. He admires him. 

3)

(As a disclaimer, I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with Goromi. I’ve also seen a lot of non-binary, gender-fluid, etc. people project on Goromi and Majima, and I feel like that can only be a good thing. Obviously they deserve more and more quality representation. I think the people who dislike Goromi are valid as well, but for the sake of this argument we are going to see Goromi as the people who project on her do and I’m going to use she/her pronouns when talking about Goromi.)

Regardless on your stance on this whole little side quest, the player has the choice to go along with Goromi which creates actually a lot of subtle connecting between the two of them. Even in just talking to her, we see the mad-dog mask slip. She talks about how much she cared about the girls at Club Shine and wonders how they’re doing. Literally says “all part of my tragic-ass backstory.” And Kiryu sympathizes with it. Says he sees through the “i hated it” bullshit and sees Majima/Goromi’s true self, which is that the cabaret job was hard for Majima because he cared about the women and didn’t like using them as a source of income and knew it would be his fault if they got hurt. 

Also, Goromi says that "When I’m with a guy, it’s all about if I’m having enough fun. That’s why he’s gotta be strong.” Sound like someone we know? Someone who we are talking about in the last gif with i-just-got-the-shit-beat-out-of-me-and-it-was-awesome bliss on his face?

Anyway, the scene in the gif is near the end of the session. Kiryu is talking about how he’s been in prison for 10 years, and Goromi says that now that he’s out he should try to relax and and a little fun. Arguably, “since you’re so lonely right now, I’m gonna give ya a hand!” is most of Majima’s role in YK1. Kiryu gets out of prison. Majima wants to fight him all the time and says it’s because he’s gone soft and needs to train. Majima Everywhere presents excitement in his life when everything else is hard and shitty and traumatizing. Yes, Majima kidnapped Haruka. But there isn’t a lot of info on that. Majima says he did it so they could fight but it very likely could have been an order from the Tojo Clan or even Nishiki. Until he develops a bond with Haruka, Majima is, in a way, all he has. Nishiki is mean now. Yumi is ???. Kazama is i don’t even remember but he certainly isn’t any emotional support. He’s lonely. Majima is the only person he has from before prison, and quite possibly the only person who understands what he is going through. 

4)

YK2, Kiryu has yeeted out of Majima’s life as Kiryu does, but he’s trying to protect haruka so I’ll let it slide. And what does Majima do now that Kiryu’s not there? Leaves the Tojo Clan. Yes it’s because he doesn’t like the 5th chairman’s style and to make up for Kawamura, but the point is he’s bored. The use of “MY Kiryu-chan” is obviously written there because “haha majima he’s crazyyy” but come on. Majima left the Tojo Clan after Kiryu stepped down as the 4th chairman. Because he was bored. Because he couldn’t trust his own men. The only person he considered an equal just wasn’t there anymore and he found it difficult to adjust. (That’s YEARNING, fellas)

So yes, HIS Kiryu-chan came home, but what is home in this context? It clearly isn’t the tojo clan, so I guess it could be Kamurocho in general. But if the clan doesn’t make it home, what does make it home? Perhaps a certain triangle shaped man??

5)

Oh boy silly Majima wants to fight Kiryu again hahaha weeeeeeeee NO listen, LISTEN, he does want to fight kiryu again, because 1) the man has been bored for a year 2) FIGHTING IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE 3) Majima is once again surprising Kiryu in a world where nothing surprises him anymore, where kiryu expects people to be vile and only want him for gain. Every single goddamn game it’s “Kiryu plz save the Tojo Clan plz” and Kiryu NEVER gets anything in return unless you count, i don’t know, Daigo and Haruka’s safety? But Majima doesn’t give a shit about any of that. Majima is one of the only people who consistently does things for Kiryu (even if they’re presented in an abnormal way). Majima is really the only one who makes sacrifices for Kiryu. But this fight, it kicks off YK2 of “hey, i missed you but i won’t admit it because we’re manly yakuza, please let me try to make you smile.”

6)

THE kazumaji scene. Going off of Majima being the only one to make sacrifices for Kiryu, here’s a perfect example. Majima first aids the Tojo Clan which he swore to leave literally only because Kiryu asked him to. Then, here, he get beaten within an inch of his life because he promised Kiryu he would protect Kamurocho from Ryuji. Majima does not give a shit about the Tojo Clan at this point. Yes, Majima LOVEEESSSS beating people up, but he’s fatally wounded. This is not a Majima who would die for the Tojo Clan. This is a Majima willing to die for Kiryu. After warning Kiryu about being to trusting, too.

And of course, we get the Majima collapsing on the pavement and Kiryu rushing in to CRADLE him in his arms like a damn fanfic. You’ve even got the “I did it for you” which everyone knows is basically an “I love you.” Look at Majima’s face in the gif. Bless the Kiwami 2 graphics, first of all. He’s looking at Kiryu like he wants him to be the last thing he sees, like he wants him to know that he’s going out for Kiryu, that despite the fact that he’s about to cough up blood he needs Kiryu to have the information he needs to save the clan and Kamurocho. He’s telling Kiryu all this with labored breath because he promised. Kiryu “One-Expression” Kazuma is viably worried as hell, the little nod in the gif kills me because Kiryu needs him to know he’s touched and he’s so grateful. The only reason Kiryu left him was because there was danger elsewhere and he trusts Kaoru enough to take care of him. (Side note: I love Kaoru Sayama, but I still feel like she’s good enough a character on her own and doesn’t need to be a romantic interest for Kiryu. Like it was like oh... she’s Girl so she needs to fall for the Big Strong Male Protag.... If Majima was a cis girl they would have made out in this game, maybe even y1.) 

7) Speaking of sacrifices, Yakuza 3, the game where Majima literally joined the Tojo Clan again because Kiryu wanted him to protect Daigo. That’s a huge lifestyle change, Majima.

Yes, this scene is funny because Majima is riding in a Barbie-ass truck like a 15 year old driving on a learner’s permit in a downpour (yet proves he can drive stick seconds later) and thinks he hit Kiryu while he purposely hit everyone else. Look, Majima needs this ok y3 he looks like he’s been crying since kiryu left no one No One is going to hurt Kiryu now

That truck is likely stolen, he’s driving erratically as fast as he can because Kiryu is in danger, how did he even know that Kiryu was in danger is it like some kind of 6th sense... If you didn’t already know, I would take a bullet for Majima’s voice actor; his delivery of “Kiryu-chan! Where are you?!” could have just been like haha oops kiryu did i hit you ;3 but instead it’s this raw cry of genuine panic, like did his actions get kiryu hurt, Majima could not live with himself if he was the reason Kiryu got fatally hurt

8) Ok I’ve hinted at the fact that I have beef with the Hot Mess that is yakuza 5, wasn’t huge on Y4 and Y6 was fine but it was heavily based on the events of Y5. In my head I’ve got an entire fix-it fanfic in which Majima yeets out to Okinawa with Kiryu after Y3 I could write that upon request too ANYWAY here’s another sacrificial majima...

Despite not caring for Y5, THIS SCENE is RAW. Maybe he’s not super ��unhinged” in this scene but it’s just so much. Majima, who Kiryu brokedown in his taxi bc he thought he got killed (because Kiryu made him stay in the tojo clan haha we’re out here crying), chooses Kiryu over Saejima. Saejima, Majima’s oath brother, Saejima. We love Saejima, Majima loves Saejima, but 25 years is a long ass time. Majima changed. Saejima changed. For awhile he had Makoto, but then Kiryu was all Majima had for a good chunk of Saejima’s time in prison. This is the man Majima got his eye stabbed out for defending. But the BaD GuYs that arent memorable enough for me to even look up the names of are like look, we want to watch the world burn because we are Bad Guys, so either you are going to fight your brother to the death or we are going to snipe Kiryu’s daughter in the fucking head. Obviously he doesn’t know that Baba is going to betray them, so he has to pick between Saejima and Haruka. He chooses to potentially kill Saejima for Kiryu’s happiness. I’m sure if things didn’t change, Majima would have held back and let Saejima kill him. Majima would rather die than see Kiryu in pain. Majima would rather kill Saejima/let Saejima kill him than let Haruka die. If that’s not a giant declaration of unconditional love and devotion, I don’t know what else to tell you.

Anyway, thanks so much for indulging me and listening to my yakuza opinions if you made it this far you the mvp :’’’’)

[janetbrown711]

It had been two weeks since Darling and Apple had kissed on that magical and snowy summer afternoon, and Darling had loved every minute she spent with Apple since. 

Often, Darling and Apple could be seen having lunch together, walking to classes together, and generally just enjoying being around each other. Darling was happy to note that Apple was adjusting to her revelation quite well, if a bit slow (but that was expected). Of course, her friends made this a lot easier, as most were very supportive (though they had known since the dragon games). Who Darling- and Apple- were really concerned about was how the Queen, Principal Grimm, and all of Ever After would react once they ascended to the throne together.  

But Darling didn’t focus on that now. Instead, she was focusing on getting ready for her and Apple’s first official date.

“So are you excited?” Rosabella Beauty asked from her bed while Darling sat by her vanity doing her makeup. 

“Did you really ask me that?” Darling snorted. Rosabella laughed. 

“Okay, you’re right. Of course you’re excited. I just can’t believe Apple asked you out and not the other way around. I really thought you’d be the one to take that leap,” She said while checking her phone. 

“Honestly? I don’t know if I was ever gonna ask her out,” Darling admitted. “I was planning on waiting until I knew for a fact that she wanted to start actually going out before doing anything. Goodness knows Apple had and still has a lot of internalized crap she needs to work through. I just didn’t want to push her,” She said as she applied blush. 

“True,” Rosabella agreed, before pausing to add, “Goodness knows her mom is gonna be a lot less than happy when she finds out.”

Darling paused at that, feeling a twinge of irrational guilt. Darling had been blessed with parents who could understand that Darling was gay from the beginning (The Charming’s figured having a girl “prince charming” meant she was probably destined to be lesbian) but Darling knew Apple wasn’t given that same privilege. Everyone in Ever After knew how strict Snow White was about tradition- Apple herself used to be a good signifier. 

“Yeah,” was all Darling could add. Sighing, she closed her blush and set it aside. 

“I know that sigh. You’re wishing you could just whisk her away and ride off into the sunset on your horse, aren’t you?” Rosabella raised a playful eyebrow. 

“You know it,” Darling admitted. “It’s the ‘Knight In Shining Armor’ instinct. Sue me,” she played back. Rosa chuckled.

“Relax. You two are destined, and the Queen can’t deny that, no matter what. She loves destiny and tradition, and according to that tradition, you two are bound together forever. It’s the perfect argument,” She said. 

“I know, I just wish Apple won’t have to fight with her mother in such a way, especially after they just made up about the Dragon Games incident,” Darling lamented. Rosa nodded. 

“Understandable, but I wouldn’t worry about it now. I’d just focus on your date, since that’s a much better thing to think about,” She reassured. Darling nodded and took in a deep breath. 

“You’re right, I’m working myself up over something I won’t have to deal with for a long time,” She stood up. “Well... I guess I’ll be off then. Be back in a few,” She said. Rosabella nodded in response and went right back to her phone. 

Darling took her time as she made her way to the gazebo outside of school where she and Apple had planned to have their picnic. Apple was bringing the basket of food and the blanket, so all Darling had to do was make sure no creatures were already there and wait.

Darling wasn’t too keen on waiting, and she wished Rosabella hadn’t brought up Snow White. It always made Darling nervous to think about her and the future. All Darling wanted was to fight dragons, kick ass, take names, and save Apple and then run off into the sunset with her, was that too much to ask? Probably... but that never stopped Darling from yearning about it constantly. 

Darling was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed when Apple showed up with the picnic basket. 

“Hi Darling,” She greeted her with her sweet smile. Darling smiled back, relieved to be distracted. 

“Hi Apple,” She said. 

“May I?” Darling gestured to the basket and blanket, and Apple nodded. Together, they set everything up to be the picture perfect picnic (she had even brought candles for atmosphere even though it was only 2 in the afternoon). Darling expected no less from Apple. 

“So... how has your day been?” Apple asked as she poured Darling a glass of sparkling apple cider. 

“I’ve been... fine. What about you?” Darling rubbed the back of her neck, which she quickly regretted doing upon seeing a glimmer of worry on Apple’s face. 

“I’m alright,” Apple said, not dwelling on it. She unwrapped one of the sandwiches she packed and took a bite. Darling did the same. 

“I apologize if that sounded a little off. What I mean is... I’m fine now. I’m afraid I’ve been a bit in my own head this morning that I’m grateful to spend some time just with you,” Darling said. Apple visibly relaxed. 

“I’m glad to be spending time with you too. Goodness knows I’ve been thinking too much too. I really needed this,” She sighed and rested her head on her own shoulder, to which Darling scooted closer, and Apple then rested her head on Darling’s shoulder. Darling rested her head on top. She smiled. 

“It’s a lovely day. We picked the perfect spot,” Darling said. 

“You know all best spots in the forest,” Apple compliment. “How do you know the forest that well?” She asked. 

“I practically grew up in these woods. Me and my brothers love exploring them when we were little. You do know that the Charming Family practically owns these woods, right?” Darling asked. Apple nodded. 

“I just didn’t expect you to have explored it so much so young. To have that much freedom to roam around...” Apple drifted off. 

“It wasn’t all peaches and roses. We did get hurt a lot, but dad always thought it was good fighting practice for the boys to ‘protect me’ from wild animals and such, though- let’s be honest- I saved them both more times than I can count,” Darling and Apple laughed. 

“Dexter is a klutz,” Apple agreed, sitting up once more. 

“And Daring is mostly talk, though I’ll admit he is pretty good at fighting dragons,” Darling said. Apple couldn’t help but agree. 

“Don’t cut yourself short though, you’re pretty fierce yourself. I still can’t believe you’re the White Knight,” Apple said. Darling chuckled. 

“A girl does what a girl has to do,” Darling shrugged playfully. Apple sighed a little. 

“Shame how things are run like that... I think Ever After needs some serious changes,” Apple said. Darling nodded. 

“Well it’s a good thing you’ll be next in line for the throne then, hm?” Darling winked. Apple nodded. 

“Indeed,” Apple said, forcing a small smile. Darling frowned. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked, softly tucking a loose blonde curl behind Apple’s ear. The princess blushed. 

“I don’t know... I just... I keep thinking about what my mother will think of me,” Apple rubbed her arms. 

“I understand,” Darling sympathized. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot too. She isn’t exactly the... understanding type, right?” Apple shook her head. 

“She’s so... hellbent on me and my destiny. It’s what drove me to do all the stupid stunts I pulled during the Dragon Games,” Apple looked away in shame.

“Hey, look at me,” Darling touched Apple’s face lightly and turned it towards her. 

“What your mother says doesn’t matter. This isn’t something you can change, okay?” She said. Apple nodded a little. 

“You are very beautiful, and you are very loved, understand? You have a wonderful support system here at Ever After High, and we’ll always be here when you need it, got it?” Darling said. Apple nodded again. The two held eye contact for quite a bit, before both of them found themselves leaning in to a soft and tender kiss. 

“Thanks Darling,” Apple blushed and looked away. “That means a lot.”

“Apple, trust me when I say I’m always happy to help,” Darling smiled and placed a hand on Apple’s cheek. To her surprise, Apple leaned into it. Darling smiled softly. 

“Let’s not focus on the future, or on your mother. For now, let’s just enjoy each others company on this lovely summer day,” Darling suggested. Apple nodded. 

“I’d like that very much,” She said, her blue eyes practically shining in the sunlight. Darling couldn’t help but get a little lost in them. 

“As you wish,” Darling said. 

With that, the two princesses continued to have a wonderfully calm and relaxing picnic as they laughed and talked for hours and hours, just marveling in each other’s company, knowing that little else mattered so long as they had each other.

[trensu]

Episode 38: The One where We Unwillingly Take a Break from Wangxiantics

okay, so wwx has decided they're doing Empathy

and he's putting jin ling in charge of bringing him out of it! jin ling is shocked!!

lsz: if jl is unwilling, i can do it

jl is like, no i'll do it!

Wwx joins hands with A-Qing and starts Empathizing. 

We go ten years back and see little a-qing playing in the water, the adorable little rascal!

A-qing is a GENIUS street kid isn't she? A grifter through and through!

Pretends to be blind and got some buns from some sweet ladies on the road

Picks some dudes pocket, pretending to be blind

i’m so proud of her

SHE'S BUMPED INTO XXC, MY BEAUTIFUL ELFIN PRINCE

i don't understand why his blindfold is all bloodied up

shouldn't that stuff have healed by now? whatever

LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL ELFIN PRINCE PROTECT THE LITTLE STREET KID

HE IS TOO GOOD

TOO GOOD OF A PERSON

And here A-Qing decides to adopt herself a Dad

"if you don't let me go with you, i'll have to resort to stealing again and someone will surely strike me down and i'll be totally helpless"

xxc is so amused by this child and is like, okay, guess we’re together forever now

GAH

THIS PART IS SO FRUSTRATING

THEY ALMOST GOT AWAY WITH AVOIDING XY ENTIRELY

But instead of giving a-qing a piggyback ride due to her "sprained ankle" xy got a piggy back ride for, what, being almost dead? HE IS UNDESERVING OF PIGGY BACK RIDES FROM XXC

even if he is a kinda handsome

lol, watching xxc get handsy with xy for “healing purposes” is so funny

he gets very close to some VERY INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING at certain points

a-qing, probably: i've only had xxc for a day and if anything were to happen to him I WOULD MURDER XY and no one else bc he’s the most likely culprit of anything happening to xxc

but for real tho, it's so sweet how quickly she comes to xxc's defense.

it kinda reminds me of how quick wwx is to verbally defend lwj

gosh, xxc is so pretty playing nursemaid here

so gentle, so soft

xy is LOVING it

that bastard

LOL

a-qing to xy, the guy they found half dead on the side of the road: you're such a weirdo

such good bedside manner, she has lol

lol xy's  villain origin story is "i couldn't have candies as a kid so now i murder for fun"

A-QING IS BRAVER THAN ANY SOLDIER

xy is testing to see if she’s for real blind and SHE JUST WALKS RIGHT INTO THAT SWORD TO SELL THE PART

i actually enjoy a-qing and xy's interactions. they're both street-smart and understandably suspicious/wary of people

so seeing them talk to each other is interesting

i keep getting distracted by xxc's fine features

lol xxc: i'm gonna fix the roof

xy: bro do you even know how?

xxc: nope, but i have a plucky, can-do attitude!

xy: yeah no, i'll do it

xxc: okay, i'll help!

a-qing: HOW ABOUT NO, HE'S SKETCHY AF

if only xxc had trusted a-qing's instincts

omg how do they get so flirty

xy: can you take me out tonight~?

xxc: no, you're still injured

xxc: besides, you make me laugh too much. i won't be able to hold my sword steady

xy: i can assist you with your sword~! don't leave me behind, please~!

and xxc gives in like lxc under pressure

then xy "helps" xxc up the ladder and cups his hand around xxc's waist and slides it oh so casually down over xxc's ass

WATCH IT, XY. HANDS TO YOURSELF, YOU MURDEROUS BASTARD.

god, it's so awful how xy uses xxc 

he gets a sick twisted joy in getting xxc to murder innocent people unknowingly

why, why do this

he probably just wants to drag him down to his level, prove to himself that everyone's a killer at heart or some shit

okay, i will say i appreciate xy's willingness to murder when they're at the marketplace

veggie salesperson: I'M NOT SELLING TO YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON

xxc: oh, i understand *sadly walks away*

xy: *viciously stabs a potato and waves knife threateningly*

veggie salesperson: you know what, let me actually give you a discount. here take all the veggies

SONG LAN, SONG LAN IS HERE NOW

Lol

sl: hey little blind girl, have you seen a blind cultivator dressed in white around here?

i mean i'm pretty sure he knows she's not blind, but still

he's like, ah, yes all blind people must know each other, right?

a-qing is, ofc, suspicious of another random dude in black asking after the dad she adopted

She’s like, oh, you know my dad? name three of his albums

sl: he's my height, pretty and his sword has flowers

A-qing: you think my dad is pretty? you must be a good guy then, i'll show you to him!

if xy weren't such an awful person, i'd say it was cute how playful he is with xxc

song lan is doing a death grip watching xy flirtatiously tease xxc

i don't think it's a death grip of gay yearning

it's more of a helpless rage sort of death grip

oh, now we're back with the juniors

they're debating if jin ling should pull wwx out of the trance yet bc wwx is getting distressed

the juniors start to pull him out of the trance, but (un)lucky for us we still get to see the rest of the tragedy unfold!

i'll never understand why song lan didn't approach xxc while xy was off grocery shopping

IF HE'D ONLY DONE THAT, THE REST OF THE TRAGEDY WOULDN'T HAVE OCCURRED

it cuts right into song lan's soul, having to listen to xy explain how he tricked xxc into doing all those evil things

xy just cut out sl's tongue and poisoned him with that powder

oh nooooooo

xxc just stabbed him through with his sword 

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

back with the juniors, trying to pull wwx all the way back

and they succeeded!

omg so dramatic

ljy: what did you see through empathy?

wwx: it's too long of a story, i'll tell you later

jl: don't leave us in suspense! cut it short!

wwx: in short, xue yang must die.

i mean, he's not wrong but he didn't have to be Dramatic™ about it

and now wwx ditches the kids to rejoin lwj

he sees lwj still fighting xy

wwx: lan zhan! *whips out flute and starts playing*

then he gets interrupted by our favorite zombie boys who are also still fighting

wwx: wn, restrain him!

wn ofc, restrains song lan

now we get another nail-pulling scene, yuck

oooh, lwj takes a swing at xy with bichen and cuts off the Magic Pouch 2 containing xxc's spirit or whatever

Magic Pouch 2 goes flying and lwj decides to play baseball or smth and hits the pouch with his sword so wwx can catch it

omg, baseball, i miss baseball, stupid pandemic. somebody give me a baseball au so i can cope.

xy: GIVE THAT BACK

and lwj is like, okay and flings his sword at him lol

you know, it's corny as hell but i get a kick out of seeing lwj use bichen like a boomerang

and xy disappears into the fog

so wwx starts the good guy monologue

xy: *maniacal laughter*

wwx: xxc is so disgusted by you, and you still want me to bring him back to life so you can play that crappy game

xy: that's not what i want!

wwx: o rly? then why did you kneel down and beg me for help??

and that's the end of the episode

Very little WangXiantics. Like, less than last episode even.

But at least we got to enjoy xxc’s beautiful Elfin Prince face. 

And ignore every bad thing that happens to him! 

Because Denial is my favorite coping mechanism!

Return to Masterpost

[saintashes]

sad hour snuggles ( 0.5/2 )

( i haven’t fully completed this story yet, so i’m just gonna post half of it for now. what i’m planning to do is make two oneshots, this one and the kam pocky oneshot. enjoy half of my unproductive excuses - )

~~~

“ lately i’ve been thinking . . . i want you to be happier . surprising , i know . but i’ll do whatever i can to make sure that i can give you at least five minutes of euphoria . ”

---

Tam Song sat in a small but cozy chair in the corner of his empty room, away from the windows. He let out a terribly long sigh that sounded painful, continuing to stare up at the plain ceiling. He was seriously contemplating on rebelling against his parents and painting his walls.

Besides the flipping of pages, everything was silent. Tam sat alone in his dull room, his slim fingers gently turning the papers of an even duller book he was looking into. He normally wouldn’t read, but he was so very bored. Linh, his sister, was out in the Forbidden Cities, trying to find a new pet called a cat with Sophie and Biana. Tam was positive she was planning to drive him insane with animals.

Hours passed, and Tam was on the last page of his book. It had the title of, “Big Book of Pets”. Sophie had brought it for Linh the last time she’d illegally went to the human cities and it was pretty fitting with the ordeal Tam would have to endure after his sister added a new member to their household. He would study about all the animals so that he could be ready for whatever monstrosity Linh would have him take care of.

Shutting the back flap of the book, Tam flopped onto his soft white pillows, his bed bouncing slightly with him. The teen shivered and pulled his blankets over himself. He lay there, forlorn and apathetic in his bed. Grabbing his Imparter from the bedside table, he flipped it open and scrolled through his device. He almost dozed off from the silence, but it seems like the person on the other end of the call that Tam answered had other plans.

“Hey, Bangs Boy!” exclaimed Keefe with a rather mischievous look in his ice blue hues.

Tam groaned out of annoyance and blinked his eyes open. “What?” he demanded.

“Woah there, I’m just checking in with you. I’m pretty bored. But I swear, I’m not dying your hair pink or anything today. But if I did pull off something, I’d start with cutting those bangs off first.”

“Shut up, my bangs are awesome. You're just jealous of how more ladies swoon for me.”

“I don’t need no one to be head over heels with me.”

“Oh, right, you have your girlfriend, Sophie.”

“I- She’s not my girlfriend, so be quiet.”

“Mhm, sure she isn’t.”

Now, Tam wasn’t very fond of this conversation and where it was going. Yes, he did have a hair rivalry with Keefe, but what he yearned for was a decent, PLEASANT conversation with him. The teen was tired of arguing whenever they met and was especially done with the fact of being the one staring from afar in the hallways of Foxfire. It’s not like it was his choice he was gay for Keefe Sencen, the straightest guy he knew.

To Tam, Keefe was one hot elf. And also a kind and funny one. Everything about Keefe was perfect to Tam - well, except his boasting about his hair and his tendency to get himself into all sorts of trouble. He wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings and words around Keefe, so he just continued to put up a “go away because I don’t like you” facade, but he really didn’t mean that. He just wanted to hold Keefe’s hand and tease him for stupid actions and play with his blonde hair, even though that’s what started their hatred. The hair.

Keefe must’ve noticed the pain that began to form in Tam’s eyes. Or his Empath abilities were getting stronger. Either way, he let his own taunting act drop and put up his caring one. “Hey, you okay?”

Eyes widening, Tam placed his free hand over his silver orbs and began rambling unconvincingly. “W-What? I’m completely fine and I have no idea why you’re asking that.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Bangs Boy. Move your hand.”

“Uh, no.”

“C’mon, dude. If nothing’s wrong, then you shouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“The, uh...the light’s in my eyes.”

Keefe shook his head and laughed, the sound giving Tam butterflies in his stomach. “What light?”

“Uhhhhh- The one above me.” Tam clapped his hands twice and turned the Imparter’s camera above. “See? Light?”

Tam’s silver bangs glinted in the warm white light, a reminiscent of his time at Exillium. 

“Bro, you just turned it on.”

“N-No I didn’t. It’s been like that.” He clapped again twice, turning off the brightness that emitted from above.

“Okay, sure. You’ve turned off the light. Now turn the camera towards yourself and tell me what’s wrong.”

“NOTHING. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Nothing’s wrong!” He pulled the camera back to his hand-covered face.

“Then you wouldn’t mind me coming over?”

“I totally would.”

“Aw, c’mon, you can’t resist the Keefester!” The blonde-haired teen wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, adding a little wink to the end. “You know you want a little time with me.”

“Alright, I’ll play your little game. But I can’t promise that I won’t kick you out when you’re annoying.” 

Keefe gasped dramatically and fell onto his sea blue sheet covers. “You couldn’t ever do that to poor Keefe!” 

Tam snuggled into his bed, getting comfy. “I would.”

“Fine. Let’s make a bet then.”

“...Go on, I’m listening.”

Settling on his stomach, Keefe propped his head upon his elbow as he tried to set his Imparter down on his own bed. He checked to make sure the camera was still on as he spoke. “Since you’re so sure you’ll kick me out…”

Tam sighed quietly, spacing out. I couldn’t let you leave, Keefe. If I got a chance to enjoy your company, I’d treasure it. You’re, like, so great and I don’t know why I even try to keep up my awful personality around you. HOW ARE YOU STILL SO NICE TO ME EVEN THOUGH I’M SO MEAN AND YOU’VE GONE THROUGH SO MUCH?! It’s gonna be so awkward when you come over. Why am I even agreeing? Am I gay panicking-

“TAM!”

The teen flinched, and squeaked out a pitiful, “What?”

Keefe looked tempted to burst out laughing at Tam, but he kept himself under control and placed his signature smirk on his handsome face. “You gotta seem like you paid attention after zoning out, Bangs Boy. Foxfire’s not gonna let you pass by daydreaming about...whatever a salty guy like you dreams about. I’m assuming you didn’t hear my idea?”

“Nope,” replied Tam, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Not a single thing. Guess you’ll have to say it all again. What a shame.” He gave Keefe a half-smile. A genuine half-smile.

“Was that a Tam smile? Look at that, I’m lucky to have seen one, even though it was because I’m having to say everything I said again. Very cruel of you,” said Keefe, wagging a finger at Tam disapprovingly. “Pay attention this time. So, what I’m suggesting is that since you’re so sure of the fact that you’ll send me away...We’ll do a time limit. If I get to stay without pissing you off in that time, You’ll have to allow me to do whatever with you for the rest of the day-”

“You’ll totally mess up my hair.”

“I promise not to lay a finger on those oh, so awesome bangs of yours. Anyways, if I don’t get to stay in the time limit, I’ll let you decide what to do without telling me. Surprise me, Song.”

“Don’t call me by my last name. It’s disgusting. I hate the very sound of it.”

“Okay, okay. Surprise me, Tammy.”

“I honestly prefer that over Song. Also, your idea sounds like the classic bet that happens all the time. Fine, deal.”

“Wow, it was that easy to have you join me? Dang, Tammy. You’re getting soft.”

“Shut up. I’m just bored. What’s the time for the bet?”

“Uhhhhh, two hours?”

“Cool. I guess good luck trying to not screw this up.”

“Same to you, Bangs Boy.”

“Oh, and don’t come through the front door. Just light leap to the back and I’ll find a way to bring you up.”

Silence followed and Tam realized that Keefe must’ve ended the call. He ran a cold hand down his face and let out a frustrated grunt. He was surely to get into trouble when Keefe waltzed into Chloramore like it was nothing. He heard footsteps come from outside of his door so he quickly hid his Imparter and pulled his book out again.

“Tam,” his father, Quan, said, stepping into the slightly messy room. “I heard talking. Was that you?” He kicked a black shirt to the side and scowled at the way Tam left a few clothes out of place.

“I don’t know, was it?” Tam wasn’t going to give Quan a single straight answer. It was good entertainment watching his father become furious. Tapping his finger on his chin in an act, Tam spoke again. “I guess it was. I don’t see anyone else here, now do I?”

“Who were you conversing with?”

“Myself.”

“I find that quite hard to believe.”

“What, I can’t discuss a book with myself since you won’t let me go see anyone?”

“You’re not stable, Tam.”

Shaking his head, he let out a tiny chuckle that didn’t sound very amused. “I’m not stable? Lovely hearing you talk, but go away now.”

“Give me your Imparter.”

“What Imparter?”

“Tam, I may be what you call ‘cruel’, but I can assure you I’m not. I can also assure you that I’m not stupid.”

He rolled his hands and pushed his bangs out of his eyes, groaning out of annoyance. “Whatever.” Tam made sure the device was locked and shut down before tossing it to Quan. He pointed to his door and made a motion for his father to leave. “Get out now.”

Straightening his back, Quan gave Tam a glare. “Don’t speak to me like that, Tam Song.” Tam grimaced at the mention of his last name, clearly not fond of it whatsoever. “Remember your place in this household.” And with that, he walked out of the room.

Boy, was today a bad day for Tam. First, Keefe calls, then they make a bet, and now he had to listen to his father boss him around? Not very fun. As Tam was deciding that nothing else could happen and that Keefe would ditch the bet in an attempt to save himself, he heard shuffling and a lot of whining from outside his window. A rock smacked the tinted window and Tam scowled, making his way towards it. He let in air and realized how long he hadn’t been outside. The thought got cut off by a familiar voice, and Tam began to regret every decision he’d made so far today.

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Hey pls can you do a canon for the first time Callum gives Ben a BJ!!!

Ok, technically I think this already happened during the park hookup so I'll kind of split the difference..

That first night at the park Callum is wild.

His hands are everywhere, his mouth stays latched to Ben’s unless the other man pulls away.

He can’t get enough of him, intoxicated, lost in the moment of giving in.

There’s a hunger there, deep and yearning that he didn’t realize was this strong because of how long he’d denied himself but the moment he gave in just a little it came crashing down.

That’s why he was already undoing Ben’s belt buckle, not because he had a plan, but because he just needed every part of Ben right now.

There’s a thunk against his back and he realizes that he’s been pushed up against a tree.

H’s got his hand wrapped around Ben in his pants and Ben’s been storking him over his own, but suddenly Ben pulls away.

Callum whines but then Ben is dropping to his knees with a glint in his eye and Callum almost loses it right then.

Ben sucks the life out of him through his cock and its the closest thing to a religious experience Callum’s ever had.

His fingers are still locked in Ben’s hair when he finally starts to come down from orgasm, panting and sweating.

But now it’s his turn, and he doesn’t know how to do this, not really, but the moment he regains his composure he’s turning them around, pushing Ben into the tree instead.

“You don’t have to.” Ben says, soft, a little unassuredly.

“I want to.”  It’s all Callum can say before he’s leaning in, tasting Ben on his tongue.

Remember Callum was a virgin before Whitney and he’s never been with a dude so he’s got hardly any experience.

But he did just have cocksucker extraordinaire Ben go down on him, so he tries to replicate what he remembered happening to him.

The taste is new, salty, sweaty, but somehow still making his mouth water at just the idea of what he’s doing.

He can’t think too much or he might chicken out so he just goes with it, sucking and bobbing inarticulately in a pale imitation of Ben.

Objectively Ben knows this isn’t a good blowjob but...  There’s something about it, Callum’s eagerness, the tension between them, that’s making him lose his mind over it anyway.

“Cal, fuck,” Ben moans, thrusting his hips up.

That catches him off guard and he gags, having to pull off to catch his breath.

“Sorry...” Ben breathes, forgetting for a moment who he was with, not just some random hook up, but Callum.

“S’okay,” Callum whispers, voice already sore and raw before he goes back down.

This time he takes his hands and presses Ben’s hips to the tree, pinioning him as his mouth works up and down Ben’s cock, taking as much as he can handle.

The little hint of control Callum exerts gets Ben going and he groans, fingers in Callum’s hair.

He wants to grab him, hold him down on his cock or guide him up and down but he can’t, so he just stays like that enjoying what Callum gives.

Callum remember how good it felt when Ben was teasing his head so he pulls back, trying to work the head of Ben’s cock now that his foreskin has retracted some.

He can taste his precum now and its so weird to know what that tastes like now, but he’s focusing on his task.

It’s sloppy and messy, but Ben begins to openly whimper and his fingers clutch harder at Callum’s hair so he knows he must be doing something right.

He can hear Ben’s breathing picking up and he starts going faster, just bobbing on Ben’s cock up and down, back and forth.

“Cal!  Callum I’m gonna....”

Callum hears but he keeps going, he wants to do what Ben did for him, take him all the way there.

Of course Callum doesn’t know how to swallow as Ben cums so he kind of just holds all that cum in his mouth with an awkward face.

FInally Ben looks down, eyes soft and crinkling at the edges and laughs.

“You can spit it out.”

Callum does, thankful, but before he can do anything else Ben is dragging him bakc up for another heated kiss, and he can taste their combined releases on their tongues as they mingle.

Callum doesn’t want it to stop.

Callum’s first time sucking Ben’s cock after admitting he’s gay.

By now they’ve already had sex a few times.

Ben has blown Callum a lot, and they’ve done anal, frotting, handjobs.

But Callum hasn’t blown Ben again, not yet anyway.

It’s not like he’s avoiding it, it just hasn’t come up.

One day though he decides enough is enough.

They’re on the bed, watching a movie on Ben’s laptop as Callum starts kissing at his ear, his neck.

Ben chuckles, fingers caressing Callum’s face, but still watching the movie.

Callum puts a hand on Ben’s chest, rubbing for a moment before sliding down down down to cup his bulge.

“Callum...”  It’s a little whispered moan from Ben and his eye are shutting and Callum knows what he wants today.

He’s working this one spot on Ben’s neck that makes the man mewl as he unzips him and fishes out his cock.

Callum raises his hand to his mouth and spits in his pam before going back, using it as a little lube to ease things as he strokes Ben to full hardness.

“That’s so...  BLoody hot,” Ben moans.  He kicks his laptop shut, movie forgotten now.

Callum is experienced with Ben’s dick now, he knows what Ben likes, for the most part, how it feels in his hand, the heft and weight of it, but he wants to know more.

He straddles Ben’s thighs, ripping open the buttons on Ben’s shirt before kissing over his chest.

Ben’s breath is coming in stutters as Callum finds a nipple and latches onto it, sucking and biting like Ben has done to him, all the while still slowly stroking his cock.

Ben normally considers himself a powerbottom, but he has to admit that when Callum takes control he kind of loses it.  There’s something about that man who’s so soft and docile normally taking charge that riles Ben like nothing else.

“Fuck me...  Fuck,” Ben pleads, fingers in Callum’s hair.

Callum just leans in and kisses Ben, effectively shushing him before working on the opposite nipple.

He loves hearing Ben moan, watching his body react beneath his fingers.

Ben’s poor cock is weeping already, every stroke making more precum gush from his slit.

Slowly Callum crawls backwards down the bed, hooking his fingers in Ben’s pants and pulling them down and off.

Ben thinks hes about to get fucked, which he’s so ready for, but then Callum grips the base of his shaft and starts licking at the head and he groans in pleasure.

Callum is still not sure how this works in practice, even if Ben’s done it a lot to him and he’s done it once to Ben.

He wants to be good though, to make Ben feel good, to learn how to pleasure him the way Ben does him.

Long, slow licks up and down the shaft, from root to tip, kisses, he tries everyhting he can think of.

He hum as he wraps his lips around Ben’s cock, taking him down as much as he can.

Cal tries to speed up, but after a few moments he gags again and has to pull off.

That’s when he sees Ben’s got his fingers curled in the bedsheets so hard it looks like he might rip them and he remembers how Ben had his fingers in his hair the entire time before.

This gives him and idea and he reaches for Ben’s hands, gently unlocking them before guiding them to his head.

“What?”

“Show me.  Teach me,” Callum says, looking up at Ben with earnest enthusiasm.

Ben’s never been more turned on in his entire fucking life than watching Callum Highway stare up at him and ask to be taught how to suck cock.

Ben nods, one hand in Callum’s hair.  He gently presses cAllum down, not too much pressure, just enough to guide him.

Callum takes Ben’s head in his mouth, licking and sucking..

Ben shivers and moans, fingers gripping tighter as he pulls Callum up, then presses back down again, showing him the rhythm he likes.

“If you can’t, can’t take it all you, fuck, you use your hand to work the rest,” Ben says, biting his lip as he takes Callum’s hand and puts it on his cock.

Once Callum is stroking him while his mouth works the rest Ben isn’t sure how much longer he can last.

“IN time you can t-take more, fuck, but for now this is good toooo~”

It’s hard to focus on instructing when Callum’s getting better by the minute which means Ben can’t think straight.

“You can work the balls too, lick, suck, fondle...”

Callum pulls off to do that, but returns his mouth to sucking on the tip while his hands work the shaft and Ben’s balls.

Ben actually can’t take much more.

He starts guiding Callum to bob up and down again, getting faster and faster, but still mindful of not gagging Callum.

Callum loves it, loves the way Ben is moaning wantonly, loves knowing that Ben is showing him what he likes, giving him the gift of that knowledge so he can use ti to make his boyfriend feel just as good.

And he plans on getting good enough that he can wreck Ben with just a few sucks like Ben can do to him.

He’s massaging Ben’s balls which he can feel getting tight and drawing up, twisting his wrist to jerk Ben off faster.

Ben keeps guiding his head and Callum uses hsi tongue to stimulate the underside of Ben’s cock as much as he can as his lips glide over the glans repeatedly.

“Cal!” is all Ben shouts before he’s cumming down CAllum’s throat.

This time Callum is more prepared, and while he can’t exactly swallow it all, some leaks out the sides of his mouth, eventually he does manage to swallow down the rest.

When he pulls away theres a string of saliva and cum connecting his lips to Ben’s cock and Ben has to take a mental picture of the literal hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Callum leans bakc down, sucking on the head, clenaing it off and giving him a few more strokes until he hears Ben hiss.

Ben’s breathing is ragged, he looks fucked out like they just had mindblowing sex, and he guesses they did.

“God help me once you can do that on your own, Ill be dead,” Ben says, resting against the headboard, out of breath.

Callum smirks, moving up to lay on hos boyfriend and kiss him stupid.

“I can, I can return the favor just, gimme a minute.  Kinda sucked out my soul there like a fucking dementor.”

Callum laughs and kisses his idiot nerd boyfriend again.

“DOn’t have to.  I don’t always return it, sometime it can just be one of us wanting to take care of the other, yeah?”

Ben’s eyes get a bit glossy at that, he’s used to giving and not receiving in return, but not used to getting and not returning.

With Callum though, it feels okay, like someone wants ot make him feel good and that’s all that matter.

“Alright.”

“Good, so, was I doing a good job?” Callum asks, nervous still.

“I said you drained me, best blowjob you’ve ever gave, and definitely top 5 all around.  With some practice you’ll take every spot soon enough for fucks sake,” Ben laughs, and Callum does too, both of them trading lazy kisses as the afternoon wears on around them.

[kweebtrash]

Just Say Goodnight and Go (M)

Messy Chapter 7

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU, Smut, The fluff chapter TM

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings: alcohol, night terrors/ panic attacks, minimal talk about assault. 

Features: body worship, choking/breathing denial, talk about oral fixation, thigh high kink, a bunch of makeout sessions, a little bit of a handjob, still exploring the daddy kink a bit, overstretching, rough sex and semi-soft sex, really bad drunk decisions.

Word Count: around 17.6k

A/N: ‘they’ and ‘she’ are used interchangeably on purpose. I didn’t exactly hit 20k like I thought but I was damn close lol. Note: In case you don’t know Rilakkuma is a Japanese character (like Hello Kitty) but from the brand San-X. This chapter has got a bunch of fluff in it, but ya’ll know fluff aint my usual thing that I write about. So tell me if it was good or bad please.

Messy Masterlist    Buy me a Ko-Fi    Other Stories

“What do people like….do on dates?”

“Eri, what the hell kind of question is that? You act like you never been on one before.” Quinn said before squinting in the mirror to viciously measure if their eyeliner wings were even.

“Like i mean...i have but also i'm antisocial and some if the best times i've had with people were just like hanging out and doing nothing. Like Yuta and i just lay around and watch anime-”

“While he fingers you.”

“Lucas and I play video games.”

“Until his attention span goes to eating you out.”

I huffed. “Listen…”

“You went out on dates with Jungwoo, didn't you?”

“Yeah but we would like go to parks during the spring and walk around, or he'd follow me around the mall and blush if I so much as mentioned going to look at underwear in a store. We went to an aquarium solely because i just wanted to hear him say the word in his adorable accent all day. But those are things that I did when like…” i sighed and set my eyeshadow brush down. “When I was in love.”

“And you're not in love with Johnny?”

“Johnny's a fuckboy. You really think he'd hold my hand and push me on a swing set at the park? Please. He's gonna take one look at these thigh highs and want to fuck as soon as we start this so called date and that's a-ok with me.”

“Eri, you're a bad liar.”

“You're the one who suggested going on a stupid date with Jaehyun! What do you two do all the time when you hang out anyway, hmm?”

Quinn squinted again, glaring at their uneven ink line before handing the eyeliner pen to me. “Fix itttttttt.” they whined. I sighed and grabbed a makeup wipe to try and clean up some of the unevenness before filling it out with the ink again. “But we honestly fuck a lot. Like a lot a lot. He heard about Taeil helping me study and wanted to help too but instead of being NICE he fingered me and wouldn't let me cum until i got an answer right-which is very hard when his stupid hot long fingers are digging inside you. Then one time I decided to cook for him, because i'm perfect wifey material and he lasted a whole minute of helping me in the kitchen before he was grabbing at my ass.”

“Great, a bigger slut. So why the hell did you come up with this boba date idea in the first place?!” I painted on the small wings in short strokes, connecting it to the already thickened lined that covered Quinn's lashline.

They shrugged, which made me purse my lips and glare down at them for moving. “I don't know. I basically said, Jaehyun you're taking me to get Boba and then I thought it'd be nice for you to come along because you’re maybe-kinda- sorta-my security blanket. Then i realized i asked him out on a date without meaning for it to sound like a date and then i gay panicked and asked you to come but that only made it a DOUBLE DATE and then i had to pretend that everything was natural and I-”

“Quinn. I should stab you in the eye with this pen.”

“I CANT HELP IT! Sometimes he's really stupid and cute and i hate his fuckin’ perfect teeth and perfect smile and those STUPID dimples. I want to punch his face but also kiss him endlessly. I especially hate it when he's like...nice and not a complete asshole because it just makes me want to be around him more!” They sighed.

I finished correcting the wing on their other eye and plopped back down in my desk chair. “I know what you mean...after the party Johnny and I spent the entire night together and it was definitely a journey. I found out things about him that i never could even imagine happening to someone like him. And it just...it made me sad. All i wanted to do was see him happy. I wanted to make him happy.”

“What do you mean? What happened to him?”

“I shouldn't tell you…” i whispered.

“Eri, we're best friends.”

“Yeah but...he's starting to trust me and I don't want to mess that up.”

“I wouldn't ever tell anyone. You know that.”

I fidgeted in my seat as i felt my morals be compromised a bit. Quinn was my best friend that I told practically everything to but Johnny was my...fuckbuddy who had gone through enough for a lifetime and needed someone who would be there for him. I still yearned to be that someone and wanted to solidify my place as a friend he could count on. I knew Quinn wouldn't tell a soul so I was sure the secret was safe but it still made me feel a bit uneasy. “I...i...don't know…”

“Was it about that chick at the party? The like weird looking one that was all over him?”

I nodded then grabbed their little hands, squeezing them tight. “Just swear on our friendship you won't ever say anything. Not even to Jae.”

“I swear.”

“Ok...and don't think or treat of him any different. Go on hating him like normal. It's ok.”

“Yes, Eri, I will. I swear.”

“She...that girl...assaulted him while he was coming down from a bad high and was sick. And you know, he's a big dude. He's tall and muscular and shit- everyone would think he'd be able to fight her off but he can only remember bits and pieces because he was so messed up. Then he described to me how he felt like...how he felt so numb and helpless. It was hard for him…”

“Eri, the same has happened to me. Why would you think I would tell anyone about this?”

“I know,” i practically whimpered. “I didn't mean it like that. I just...i kinda care about him now. I want to be there for him but without making stuff too complicated. I honestly just think he needs someone he can rely on.”

“But then you fell in love with him.”

“I'm going to need you and Doyoung to stop saying that. Are you two conspiring against me?”

“It's just a bit obvious to people that aren't only here to fuck you.” Quinn kissed me gently and returned my little hand squeeze. “It's good that you're there for him. He needs it. I wish we could've been friends sooner so you would've been there for me. You have a good ability to be a pillar of strength for people. But don't let that consume you either. He needs to get through it on his own too.”

“I know. I want him to but this is where the stubborn fuck boy part still remains and makes me want to throw his giant ass across the room.”

“Yeah, he's still stupid about a lot of things but any step towards healing is progress.”

I pouted and gave myself another glance in the mirror before adding more smokiness to my outer crease. “Yeah, I know. It's still fresh though so I can't rush him. I just need to make sure it doesn't get too messy.”

“And also make sure he somehow becomes your boyfriend?”

“WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT?! WHY DON'T YOU GO BE JAE'S BOYFRIEND, YA LIL TURD.”

“Eww no. I don't want to be near his stupid abs and dimples and perfect teeth and soft hair all day. Absolutely not.”

We both glared at each other for a moment. Our weak facades to our feelings were no match for one another and we couldread each other like open books. Things were getting to be a little bit too serious for the both of us and I may have admitted it to myself during my talk with Doyoung but there was no way in hell that I was ever going to say that I had feelings for Johnny out loud. I hoped that I would eventually get over him enough to just keep things casual. I was sure my fear of love was the perfect blockade for that. Nothing could get past that impenetrable wall. So i felt safe for now. Quinn nudged me, breaking our glaring contest and making us both laugh.

“How did we end up like this?” I asked.

“Like what? Stringing along a bunch of hot guys waiting to do whatever we want them to do? Pure talent. We're amazing. And i am making them pay for the boba.”

“Well duh. If they don't we can just throw them out and solidify our relationship with Lucas. I mean he has everything they have anyway: big dick, deep voice, nice lips, can reach things on the top shelf. It's all we need.” I added a final touch of setting spray and wiped at the powder fallout that covered the top of my boobs. “Oh, by the way, do I look ok in this?”

I stood up so Quinn could see my black ensemble of a Simple Plan t-shirt I had since I was 15, a suspender skirt, black thigh highs and matching high-top converses. They squinted and looked me up and down, even making me turn for them. “It's okay.” They stated simply.

“Ok? What do you mean ok? Do I look fat or something?”

“No it's just...i mean it's very you.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“Like very...high school emo. But your hair and makeup is really cute and he'll like the thigh highs. What are you wearing underneath?”

“Underneath?” I hadn't given much thought to my underwear. “I just picked whatever was in my drawer.”

“Well do you want to entice him a bit?”

I shrugged. “I guess a little. Really make this date worthwhile since i'm sure he's gonna be a jerk about the whole thing. I’m not even sure why he agreed to go.”

“Duh,” Quinn said. “Because he likes you. If he isn't a shitty date then you can give him a little something. And if he is, don't show him at all. I have a cute white lace set you'd look good in. You should wear that.”

“Wear lingerie the entire time? That underwire is gonna kill me.”

“You know I hate bras as much as you do but it'll be cute. Trust me.” Quinn got up from my bed and went over to their room leaving me to follow. When they pulled out the set from their drawer I almost couldn't believe how small it was.

“Uh...you want me to put all of my ass in that?”

“Didn't you say he likes your butt? With this and the thigh highs you can ask him to eat you out and i bet he finally would.”

“Oh...right.” I took the small underwear and bra and started to change into them, not bothering to bring up his previous trauma surrounding oral. It was just easier not going into more into detail about it. I slithered out of my old underwear and into the lace panties which seemed to morph into a thong between my ass cheeks. I adjusted myself over and over in the bra, trying to stuff myself into the seemingly small cups. “Should I really look this desperate? I mean we've fucked like half a dozen times before.”

“It's not desperate! Just trust me. Do that whole femdom thing you do and feel sexy. It may make you feel less nervous if you just pretend you have confidence.”

“Pfft, i doubt it.” I pulled my shirt back over my head, practically feeling my tits at my throat. I stepped over to Quinn's full length mirror and adjusted myself over and over again. Feigning confidence I could do sometimes but alcohol was a lot more helpful with that.

“Will you stop fussing? You're making me more nervous than I already am. We have to be cool sluts not….stupid schoolgirls!” Quinn hissed.

“Yeah, well….i am a stupid schoolgirl and I hate it! I don't want it Quinn!”

“It's just boba! We got this! It's not like-” Suddenly we heard three sharp raps against our door. Our mouths snapped shut and panic washed over us. We looked at each other as if we didn't know what to do. “You do it.” They whispered.

“No, no! You! It was your idea that got us into this mess in the first place!” I planted my hands on their back and forced then towards the door. “Go!”

“You come with me! What are you gonna do?Just stay in here?!”

“Yes! And maybe die alone so i don't have to be embarrassed!” A few more knocks came again and Quinn and I fussed with our hair, our clothes, checking our breaths and if we had things in our teeth. Eventually we stood in front of the door, squaring our shoulders and pretending like everything was totally fine. I was the one who set my hand on the door handle, swinging it open to see my worst nightmare.

The four of us stared at one another like lost children, wide eyed and scared. It was so strange seeing them dressed up that it was like a shock to the system. I was used to the Johnny in sweatpants or basketball shorts and hoodies but now he was...God, he was stunning. Everything; from his hair, his lips, his eyes behind the round wire frames he wore, and his incredibly perfect long legs trapped in his torn up skinny jeans. I hated to admit it-absolutely loathed it- but he looked like complete boyfriend material; so soft and cozy yet still oozing sexiness and a little bit of mystery. I especially loved the leather jacket that hung over him. It made me want to throw myself into his arms and get lost in a sea of his kisses. My heart was fluttering, pathetically so, and it was almost impossible to breathe.

I saw his eyes travel up and down my body, stopping at certain places he wanted to linger a bit longer on. I waited nervously for him to say something, anything at all. He seemed to be stuck, his eyes fluctuating through thought processes and possible scenarios. I nibbled at my lip and casually looked over and Quinn and Jae. Jae looked quite handsome himself; a soft sweet rendition of a guy i didn't quite like and was surprised to see like this. He looked comfy in his hoodie and jacket combo. A warm beanie was perched on his head and his light wash jeans were a perfect compliment. His dimples were on full display along with his perfect teeth Quinn so happily gushed about. I could see them already swooning over him, and probably thinking of a way to get into his pants.

“You look,” My eyes cut back to Johnny as I heard his deep voice finally. “You look um...c-cute.” The olive tone of his skin flared with peachy pinks as soon as that word left his lips.

Cute.

This fuckboy thought I was cute. My heart was in my shoes, a melted puddle of teenage passion and urgency for romance. I giggled nervously and stared down at our feet, noticing his checkered vans and my black converses. “U-um...thank you. I think you look really handsome.” I tucked a stray hair back and gazed up at him. His expression was nothing short of flustered and he cleared his throat to break up the awkwardness.

“Are we just gonna stand here looking like idiots or are we gonna go? I need coffee.” He said.

Jaehyun broke from leaning against the doorframe and boldly took Quinn's hand. “Yeah, let's go. Johnny, you driving or am i?”

Johnny tossed his keys over to Jae who caught them with his free hand. “I'll just drive when we come back.”

Jae and Quinn started heading downstairs, leaving me to rush to get my purse and lock the door behind me. The minuscule walk down to the parking lot of the apartment complex was enough to keep the awkward silence between Johnny and I. I had no idea what I should say or if we should even strike up a conversation at all. I realized that i really didn't know much about him other than his traumatic past and insecurities surrounding it. It seemed trivial but even something like learning his favorite color was starting to become appealing to me. “So…”

He looked back at me from midway down the steps. “So?”

“Boba, huh?” I wish i couldn't speak.

“Yes? Boba?” He seemed just as confused as I was and i rushed to sprint the rest of the way to the car. It didn't take him long to catch up and we were in the back seat and on our way in practically seconds. I kept to my side of the seat against the door, leaving a gaping space between us. Quinn and Jae seemed lost in their own conversation that seemed as natural as the moon controlling the tides. I almost envied them. When the hell did they get so buddy buddy? I briefly looked over at Johnny who seemed to be more interested in gazing out the window then having any interaction with me. I shifted uncomfortably and slid one leg over the other. I adjusted my skirt a bit, trying to make sure I remained decent but it was just a little too short even for me.

I thought I felt Johnny's eyes on me but when i turned to glance at him, he was back to being distracted by the scenery outside his eyes. I checked my phone, trying to use it as a way to ignore my self deprecating and nervous thoughts as well as to make the time go by. It wasn't until Jae cut a harsh turn that I was sent flying from my sacred spot and into Johnny.

“Dude, chill with that!” Johnny reprimanded.

“My bad! Stupid GPS said it at the last second!” Jae replied.

I tried squirming away from Johnny but Jae's lead foot on the gas pedal was making it harder to adjust myself. I felt Johnny's hand grip at my waist almost as if he wanted to keep me close to him. “You okay?” He said in a hushed tone.

I nodded and tried not to look at the warm hazel of his eyes. “I guess your roommate is fuckin’ speed racer.”

“Yeah, he's not the best driver. He only got his license last year.”

I sat up, finally able to regain my balance when Jae's speeding evened out. I inched myself away from Johnny but found his strength keeping me plastered to him. His arm shifted from my waist to around my shoulders, leaving plenty of opportunity for my head to rest on his chest. I looked up at him but he still avoided me at all cost. Tentatively, i laid against him. I could hear the quick beats of his heart and couldn't help but wonder if he was nervous too.

What did we have to be nervous about? Getting to actually know each other? Hadn't we done that? Did he even want to learn about me? I guess it would be better to just keep it about sex even with him confiding in me. It would add layers to our fun and could attribute more to the fun we had in our fuck buddy relationship. But my heart remained in a place of wishful thinking and i was pleading for it to stop fucking with my rationality.

I tried to focus on the physicality of it all instead and I was trying to convince myself that a simple hookup was the main goal for today. Get good food, good Boba, and good dick. That would be all. Maybe the date (or fake date, whatever you wanted to call it) wouldn't last long and I could just go home and curl up in my room and stuff all my feelings away under lock and key. I sighed and pulled myself away from being stuck in my brain for a moment. I happened to notice the woodsy notes of his cologne while my head remained tucked under his chin. I craned my lips up to his neck, giving his warm skin a sheepish peck. The scent was of course stronger here and almost sent my head spinning.

Johnny finally looked at me for longer than a few seconds but he didn't say anything at first. He returned my neck kiss with a small press to my lips, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. I decided to speak and hoped that I wouldn't retreat back to my state of being a bumbling idiot. “You smell good.” Well….i could have definitely said something worse.

He chuckled lowly. “Yeah? You like it?” He kissed me again and my hand trailed upwards to cup his face. I simply nodded and closed my eyes, preferring to get lost in him than back in my own thoughts and feelings. I felt his long fingers fall to my knee, trailing higher and barely grazing over the top of my thigh highs where he stopped suddenly. There was tension within him now and i swore I could almost hear a low growl fall on my tongue. “Eri.” He said in a voice so stern my thighs clenched together in response.

“Yes?” I asked, rather innocently.

“You...you wore this on purpose, didn't you?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” I played innocently.

He sat back and scoffed, an unsurprised look on his face. I covered my mouth in an attempt to hide my giggle. “You're gonna get your little ass beat.” He whispered.

“Is that a threat or a promise, daddy?” I teased. He nudged me instantly, wide eyed and afraid that Jae or Quinn had heard me.

“Shut up!”

I giggled again turning into full blown laughter at his embarrassment. It was kind of cute to tease him like that even though during the thick of it I would be the more embarrassed one. Quinn turned around then, curious as ever. “What are you laughing at?”

Johnny and I both stiffened up as if we were being scolded in the back seat. My laugh died down a bit and I was able to finally talk. “N-nothing!” I squeaked.

Johnny fussed with his glasses and nervously pushed back his hair, not even acknowledging Quinn. They squinted, judging us and still wondering what had made me laugh. They didn't get to pry any further as Jae pulled into the parking lot of the small cafe. Johnny was the first to get out, not even bothering to wait for us. He just stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and headed towards the cafe door. I pouted, annoyed that he didn't even have the courtesy to wait for us. Jae was the one that held the door open for Quinn and I, leaving me to scowl at Johnny. He ignored me and headed towards the line, towering over the few people ahead of him. I stood by his side, looking over the menu, while Jae and Quinn joined the line behind us. 

As I was debating over Rosehip or Lavender flavors I felt a brush against my hand. I thought it may have been an accident but suddenly Johnny’s pinky was curled around mine. I glanced down, making sure I wasn't imagining it and was pleasantly surprised. I smiled for a second until I heard Jae whisper a teasing, “gayyyyy” while Quinn poked at my side. I swatted their hand away and shot both of them a glare which only made Quinn giggle again. The line moved then and Johnny and I stepped forward. He finally spoke to me. 

“Do you know what you want?”

“i can't decide between the Lavender or Rosehip one. Both are yummy. Maybe Rosehip and Strawberry? Wait, no, Lavender Vanilla.”

He crinkled his nose in disgust at my flavor choices. “Well, figure it out. We're next.”

“Hush! I know that!” I pouted. He moved up again and discarded my pinky in favor of grabbing his wallet out of his pocket. He ordered a coffee flavor then looked at me.

“Go.”

“Oh, right...uh...” I still had no idea what I wanted and panicked as I felt like I was holding up the line.

“Just order.” I shuffled my weight on either foot while finally deciding on the Rosehip Strawberry with bursting bubbles. I watched as he paid for us then stepped off to the side to wait for the drinks to be completed. “Wanna get a table?”

I nodded. “U-um...thanks for the…”

He looked at me for awhile to the point where I got a bit uncomfortable before kissing me on the cheek. “It's whatever. Go sit down.”

I touched the warm spot of my cheek where his lips had been and scurried away trying not to show my giddiness. Why was I acting so stupid over him? I plopped down at a table, sighing to myself as the others ordered and waited for the drinks. It was only a few more minutes before Johnny joined me, sliding the cup and big straw my way. We stood quiet as we stabbed our straws into the plastic, sipping slowly and glancing at our phones. I didn't know how to talk to him about normal stuff really and was sure I was going to continuously make a fool out of myself.

“So….what's your favorite color?”

He looked at me questioningly. “What?”

“Your favorite color...sorry, i'm just trying to make conversation.”

“Oh...blue. What's yours? Black?” He chuckled then took a sip of his tea.

“Pastel pink.”

He choked a bit then chewed through the pearls. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, why is that hard to believe? I happen to be a multifaceted person that likes a bunch of things. I like cute things, video games, anime, comics, a whole bunch of nerd crap. I'm not just a stereotype.”

“Well, do you still think I'm a stereotype?”

I sucked in air through my teeth before propping my chin in the palm of my hand. “Sometimes you can be. You're stubborn and hard headed and a jerk most of the time but sometimes you can be….cute.” I diverted my attention to my drink again, hoping that my compliment didn't make things more awkward.

“What's so cute about me?” He asked. His eyes were focused right on me now as if he truly wanted to know.

“Oh well...physically of personality wise?”

“You tell me, princess.”

I pouted at my title. I guess he was returning my tease from earlier. “Well, i like that you trust me. I like that you're willing to try things with me. I think your photography is nice and i’m glad you have a passion. I think that it's cute when you spoon me or hold my pinky like you do.”

His face brightened to a heavy rose color and he straightened up as soon as Jae and Quinn came to the table. Jae tossed the car keys onto the table and sat down beside Quinn, rather than across from one another like Johnny and I were. They barely seemed to pay attention to us or their drinks and instead got wrapped up in their own little world full of intense kisses. Johnny and I face palmed at the same time.

“Were in public.” I groaned. “Cut it out.”

“Don't ruin our fun just because you two are weird and awkward.” Jae said.

“If ya'll were just gonna make out why did we even come out here? I could've stayed home.” Johnny interjected.

“I still wanted bubble tea. And we can get food later. I'm just a bit preoccupied now.” Quinn said.

I rolled my eyes and diverted my attention back to my phone which was a better sight than our best friends sucking the soul out of one another.

Im ready to die why are they like this

I texted Johnny.

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: we should just ditch them tbh

Omg, we cant. They rode with us. How would they get back?

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: who cares lmao

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: they can figure it out later

Be nice. Theyre still our friends

But would you care if I got some food after this? Im starving

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: fuck yeah. Where do you wanna go babe?

I smiled and looked up at him. He glanced up at me and returned my smile before nodding back at his phone, waiting for me to answer. Somehow texting made the both of us more comfortable than talking face to face. Blame it on on our generations addiction to technology or rather our crippling social anxiety.

Not to be weeb trash but there’s a japanese book store around here and it’s over by a bakery and a restaurant. I go there all the time. They have the best fried chicken

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: lets do it then

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: btw i watched naruto so i know anime

I couldn’t help the snort that got coupled with my laughter. I covered my mouth when i noticed the gross sound which made Johnny laugh too. 

Oh my god, stop right there. I can’t believe you just said that!!!

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: I still remember like half of the opening songs

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: dont make me serenade you

There is nothing more I want in this world than you to sing fighting dreamers while squawking like a parrot

Literally nothing would turn me on more johnathan

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: lol, bet. You’re gonna get just that tonight

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: also you know my name is just john right lol

Not anymore. You’re forever johnathan

😂😂😂😂😂

Johnathan’s cute. I like johnathan

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕:  i like johnny. I have like 4 different names and thats the least fucking complicated one

I know what you mean, i have too many names too and I hate all of them.

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: there’s more than just Eri?

Way more unfortunately. My 1st name has 12 letters in it

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: wtf lol

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: what is it?

Never telling. Ever. its a dead name to me. Im just eri

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: boooo ur no fun

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: i’ll tell you my korean name if you tell me your full name

Absolutely not. If i tell you i’ll have to kill you. Thats the rule

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: does quinn know it?

Don’t bring them into this. Quinn knows a lot of things about me that must never be spoken of

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: ahh so you ARE a serial killer then

Shhhhhhh dont let anyone know.

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: i dont think i can hide the fact that youre a serial killer eri lol

I can hide you

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: why do I have a weird feeling that was your attempt at flirting with me

Please ignore me i dont know how to have actual normal conversations

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: apparently we can only have them about traumatic experiences and kinks

Thats basically the basis of a successful relationship duh

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: relationship?

You know what i mean

💕💕Big Dick Daddy💕💕: do i?

I looked up at him as he was casually sipping and waiting for my response. Before i could say something or even think of what to say, the chair screeched back and Quinn stood up suddenly. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll be right back.” They announced.

I shrugged. “Oh...alright. We'll be here.” I watched them walk off towards the restrooms in the back of the cafe and saw that Jae was doing the same.

“I gotta piss too..” He left then too, following Quinn in a half jog, and i wanted to scream. Really? Right now? Right in front of my boba? I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“They're going to go fuck.” I said, when he was out of ear shot.

Johnny looked back at the direction of the bathrooms then back at me. “Time to get food then.” He stood up and grabbed the keys from the center of the table. “Come on.”

“Wait, no we really shouldn't!” I protested. “I'd feel bad if we left them here.”

“Do you feel bad that they ditched us to fuck in the bathroom?”

“Well….maybe not so much.”

“Than come on.”

I grabbed my drink and followed after Johnny as he headed back to the car. We got in and I directed him to the bookstore, our conversation still at a minimum. After we arrived, he resumed holding my pinky and following me as i strung him along to look at stationery and the large collection of manga on the upper floor. I wanted to buy everything and practically cried when I saw my fave series or even a figure that i was desperate to have. Johnny seemed to get a kick out of every time I geeked out and listened patiently when I explained something to him like an overly excited teenager. He even told me about some of the anime’s he used to watch as a kid, a few we had in common.

I took him down another row of filled shelves looking for a specific title I had in mind. This section was only filled with the Japanese prints making Johnny question my intentions. "You can't read Japanese. Don't they have English ones?"

"Mhm," i nodded as i bent over slightly searching for the right volume. "It's for Yuta. He's collecting My Hero Academia right now. I wanted to see if they had the next volume he needs."

"Hm." He scoffed. "Yuta."

"There's nothing wrong with looking for something for a friend."

"Never said there was. It's whatever."

I finally found the volume and snapped a quick picture of it to send to Yuta and asked him to come back down here when he had time. I started searching for another series he had in mind of starting when i felt something creep up my thigh. Johnny was behind me now, his fingers just barely under my skirt and rubbing across the band of my thigh highs. I straightened up and swatted at him. "Quit being a perv!" He smirked and set a kiss on my lips holding it long enough for me to worry about our PDA. "Dont make us like Quinn and Jae!" I whispered harshly.

"Sorry, i won't. I just needed it."

"Needed a kiss?"

He shrugged and kissed me again, this time quicker before he moved away from me and disappeared to another aisle leaving me to stay flustered. I grumbled and switched to find the English volumes of the manga section but got distracted by a rack of Rilakkuma plushies. The adorable teddy bear was one of my vices and I had spent more than I needed too on a few of the plushies here. There was one in particular that I didn't have that shone like a beacon of light in the sea of others. I crushed the plushie to my chest, happy at how soft and perfectly squishable it was. I looked at the price tag and winced, setting my dream plush down and retreating to the manga which i could afford.

I wasted almost a half hour mulling over which series I should buy- one i was close to finishing or another I had always wanted to collect. I sighed and picked the cheaper option, which still made me happy. I needed a new job asap but it was slim pickings in this stupid college town and the surrounding areas. I was flipping through the volume in my hand when Johnny appeared beside me, startling me.

"Hey, not to be a buzzkill but I'm hungry as fuck. Would you care if we went to go eat now?"

"Oh yeah! Sorry, i was reading through some of the volumes and got distracted with deciding what I wanted. We can go." I noticed he had a bag in his hand as he had apparently bought something. "Found something you liked?"

He simply nodded and i tried to sneak a peek to see what it was. He yanked the bag away and held it high above his head where he knew he couldn't reach. "Don't be nosey. Go pay for your stuff." He kissed the top of my head and I pouted before walking to the register and paying. The restaurant wasn't too far from the bookstore so we took the scenic route, walking hand in hand. I loved the way his fingers engulfed mine and made my entire hand disappear. I gave him a few squeezes to guide him in a new direction until we arrived. I pulled the door open for us and kept our hands entwined as we went to the line to order again.

Almost a half hour later we were still eating and actually laughing and having a flowing conversation. His laugh was so charmingly awkward that it resembled music to my ears. I could listen to him talk all day when he was passionate about something, his little lisp becoming more adorable to me by the second. I watched every motion his mouth made, falling into my secret oral fixation and noticing everything i found attractive- his overbite, his lisp again, his tongue reaching out to lick his lips, the small hiss he made as he sucked in air through his teeth when he was trying to think of something, and every once in awhile when he would sink his teeth into his bottom lip. He quirked an eyebrow at me, stopping mid sentence.

"What are you looking at?"

I snapped myself out of my daydream like state. "N-nothing, i'm just listening to you."

"I feel like you're staring, you weirdo." He chucked the balled up straw wrapper at me and i returned with my napkin ammo.

"I was not staring! I was just interested in what you were saying but now you're just being a jerk."

"I am not, whiny princess. I could just tell. Do i have something stuck in my teeth? Sauce on my face?"

I shook my head. "Nope, you're all clean."

He nudged his foot against my leg from beneath the table. "Then tell meeee."

"You'll laugh at me!"

"I'll always laugh at you but it's all in good fun."

I sighed and set my hands on my forehead, making a visor of my fingers and trying to block him from looking at me directly. "It's just a thing i have with mouths, ok?"

"Fuck, was i chewing too loud or something?"

I shook my head. "No it wasn't really when you were eating food it was more like when you were talking and stuff. It's just...a thing I have."

"I don't get it…"

"It's like a….like a fixation, ok? Can we move on before i embarrass myself more?"

"Fixation? Is this like a kink thing again?" He asked.

"No...a little. But not really I suppose. Just stuff I find attractive that draws me in i guess."

"So you just like notice stuff I do with my mouth?"

I set my head on the table wondering why i couldn't be a normal human being who didn't make a fool of themselves when they were with a boy they liked (read: loved). "Y-yeah…"

"So what did you notice, i'm curious. Is this more stuff that you think is cute about me? Hmm?"

"Yes...for the most part."

"Then tell me."

I sighed again and kept my voice low. "I watched you chew on your fork while you were talking. And i like your lisp."

"Please no."

I looked up at him and he was covering his mouth instantly. Great. Now i freaked him out for good. "'M sorry." I grumbled.

"I hate my lisp, it's the worst. Why do you even think it's cute?"

I shrugged. "I dont know. Maybe because i think you're cute. Maybe because i like how it adds to your accent. Maybe i'm just extra weird."

"You're the first person to ever tell me that, you know."

"I figured as much. I don't mention it often because it weirds people out. So, again, i'm sorry."

He chucked the napkin back at me making me look up at him. "What you think is weird is your normal. And hell yeah i think you're weird but you're interesting too. You keep me guessing and I never have any idea what you’re gonna say or make me feel next.” Johnny looked down at the small amount of food he had left and poked at it with his fork, taking his turn to avoid looking at me.

“Correct me if i’m wrong but are you being nice to me, Johnathan?”

“Don’t be gross.” He laughed. “You’re cute too, i guess.”

“Thanks, i’m flattered.” I rolled my eyes playfully and stood up. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

“Sure, you don’t want me to come with you?” He joked.

“Please don’t. I actually have to pee.” I nudged his head as I walked by him and headed towards the bathroom. I checked my phone to see if Quinn had texted me or noticed that we were gone. There was nothing but an excited text from Yuta along with a kissy face selfie. I responded to him and finished up quickly before returning back to the table. I stopped when I was about to sit down as i was face to face with the Rilakkuma plush I had wanted back at the bookstore. “What did you do?”

Johnny shrugged. “I saw you looking at it so...i don’t know. I thought you might want it.”

“You...you didn’t have to…” I whispered. I was practically speechless and couldn’t even move. I just kept staring at it. I had never once expected him to do anything like this for me. This made everything absolutely worse. Not only did I have feelings for him but now he was being adorable and sweet and thoughtful. What a fuckin’ asshole! This was the last thing I needed from someone who only saw me as a fuck buddy. It was also going to mess with my head and my heart more and I was a total glutton for punishment. What the hell was I going to do with myself?

“Do you like it? You’re looking at it like it’s a bomb.”

I finally sat down and swiftly took the plush off the table and held it in my lap. “Thank you.”

“It’s not problem. I got a keychain too. One where he’s sleeping.”

“You got a Rilakkuma keychain?” I asked, stunned.

He unclipped it from his belt loop and held it up for me to see. “Yeah, why not? I liked it.”

“I just...didn’t peg you for a guy that would buy a stuffed animal for himself.”

“It kinda reminds me of you.”

We both looked at each other not sure of what had transpired. We were frozen in place and I could almost hear my heart thundering between my ears. I squeezed onto one of the plush ears trying to stabilize my anxious thoughts. Johnny swallowed hard and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but a loud vibration of his phone on the table scared us both. I saw that it was Jae calling and Johnny picked it up.

“Dude, where the fuck are you!?’ I could hear him yelling through the phone.

“We left. We weren’t going to wait for you two to finish fucking and being gross.”

“Come back here and get us!”

“No way. You guys can find your own way home. Eri and I are going back to her place and then we’re gonna fuck.”

“Shut up!” I whispered harshly. “We can just go pick them up. It’s not big deal.”

Johnny shook his head at me, holding the phone a bit aways from his ear as Jae continued to yell. “No way in hell.” He mouthed at me.

I kicked at him under the table and gave him a stern look. “Go back.”

“They don’t deserve it.” Johnny hung up on his best friend and got up from the table. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” He grabbed our trays and tossed the garbage in the trash while i gathered my plush and purse.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? We’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“And? It’s time for us to have our own fun now. Don’t worry about them.” He pulled me close to him and kissed me. “You ready?”

I knew it was wrong to leave Quinn and Jae behind butttt a part of me was still annoyed that they ditched us to go fuck. At least Johnny and I were going to hook up in the sanctity of my apartment and not in the middle of hanging out with friends. Besides, I did want to spend some alone time with him now. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun of our own. “Yeah, I’m ready Johnny.”

--

“Jesus, it's cold in here!” I said as i opened the door to my apartment. “I'm gonna get a blanket for us if you wanna find something to watch.”

“Sure.” Johnny shrugged and kicked off his shoes as he sat down on the couch. I went to my room and tossed my purse and plush on my bed before gathering my fleece blanket. I nudged my own shoes off and made my way back to the couch, barely being able to see with the blanket balled up in my face. Just as i was hoping that i wouldn't trip, my foot caught onto Johnny's vans and i almost landed face first on the floor. He caught me instantly though and I was plenty grateful. Knowing my luck i would’ve slammed my head on the side of the coffee table. “And you think I’m clumsy.”

“Shush!” I said, pawing at his hands on my waist. “You shouldn't have left your clown shoes in the way!” He forced me to face him, my body poised between his legs and hands firmly on my hips. “What?”

He remained silent and gently eased me forward as he relaxed back into the couch. I got the message and crawled into his lap, straddling him. His lips busied themselves with pressing tender kisses to my neck while his hands crawled along my thighs. The gentle actions were enough to make me shiver just a bit. I pushed his hair back gently and took his wire frames between my fingers, pulling them away from his face. He blinked a few times as if his eyes had to readjust. I reclined back to set them onto the coffee table before returning my attention to him. “Well…” I began. “Here we are.”

“I've been wanting to fuck you all day you know that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, i get it. The thigh highs. You're a slut.” I pouted. “I kinda...maybe…” I lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “I didn't mind hanging out with you today. I had a really nice time.” I was already kicking myself but i couldn't bare to hide my disappointment of my own true feelings. I did have fun with him. He made me laugh, genuinely laugh, and feel good. And the Rilakkuma he bought me would be something I cherished for a long time. I liked our date but I couldn't ask him out again, especially if he just wanted to fuck. Of course, that was my intention at the beginning as well but as usual I got caught up in trivial things that made me feel like I was actually important to someone.

“O-oh…” he said as if he wasn't even sure how to respond. I kept my gaze casted downward as my fingers twiddled away at a stray thread hanging from his shirt. “I mean...it was like cool and all I guess.”

He guessed. It stung. It really did. Even after the hand holding, kissing, and buying me things I was still nothing. But at least I knew what i was good for with him. “Yeah...Do you wanna….just get to watching stuff?”

He set his curled index finger beneath my chin and raised my head. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, I'm fine.” I pushed his hand away and went to crawl off his lap but he instantly seized my waist again.

“Eri.” I hated the way his voice sounded when he was stern and reprimanding. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and had my whole body melting into gooey mess.

“What?” I grunted.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing! I just thought you-it's stupid just forget about it.”

“Eri.” There it was again. Still after all these months his voice still drew me back in. I rolled my eyes and practically whined, despising that he was trying to make me talk about how i felt when he was the king of emotional suppression. It just wasn’t fair.

I tugged on the loose thread again, pulling it from the shirt completely. “I thought maybe you would've liked our date...the hang out thing I mean.”

“What makes you think i didn't?”

“You just said ‘it was cool and all i guess’. It sounds like you didn’t give a shit about it at all…”

“You want me to care about a date?”

“Yes! Wait, no! No, i do not.”

He raised a brow and squinted his eyes in confusion. “You don't?”

“I just- will you let me go? I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Let's just fuck and get it over with.” I tried prying at his hands but he still wouldn't let me go, even when I started squirming.

“Eri.”

“Stop saying my name like that!” I snapped. I was failing at making it look like he wasn’t capable of making me lose my sanity. 

“Say it like what?”

“Like all….UGH! You're frustrating!”

“I think you're frustrating yourself.” He chuckled which made my entire face heat up.

“I am not! I don't care if you don't care about the date but was it even a date like i had a really good time but you didn't and now i feel all weird and i don't wanna feel weird but i do and you're just here just not caring and i don't know! Ok?! I don't know!” I rambled in one breath.

“Shut up, you idiot.” He cupped my face in his hands, practically engulfing my entire head before pulling me to his lips. He was right of course. I was frustrating myself and letting my emotions mix with my anxiety to create this brutal concoction of frustration and confusion. I wanted to push him away so i could breathe and probably run away yet he was taking his sweet time as if he needed every caress of my lips. “I did have a good time.” He licked at the soft fullness of them before landing another kiss  “A really good time. Why are you worried that I didn't?”

“Fuck if i know.” I whimpered. “You're fucking with my head.”

“Welcome to my world.” He pushed my hair away from my neck and planted kisses along my jugular. “Also do you not like it when i say your name?” His breath was dangerously close to my ear, his words a whisper that made my fingers dig into his shoulders harder.

“You were saying it all...harsh and commanding.”

“Did it scare you? I didn't mean to.”

I shook my head. “N-no. It um...actually turned me on.”

“Oh.” He pulled away from me. “Is it...like part of the daddy thing? Am i doing a good job? I really didn't notice.” He was blushing now but a small smile was creeping onto his lips as if he was proud of himself.

I returned the smile, my head feeling just a bit clearer. My ability to overthink everything was annoying when it swallowed my entire thought process. But his words were comforting enough to encourage me to breath and relax against him. “Yeah, you did a good job. You know you're kind of already a bit dominant right?”

“Uh really? I just thought I was being normal.”

“Remember your normal isn't the same as everyone else's. You just didn't notice or it seemed natural to you. It works. I also kinda like how growly you get.”

“Growly? I notice i do do that sometimes. I d-dont really mean to…” he said softly.

“Do it more often. Like a lot more often but don't force it. I like it when you do it when you’re fucking me from behind.”

“Wow uh, well ok.” He laughed nervously and darted his eyes away from me. “I will um...try and keep that in mind. For next time.”

“Now, you mean?” I set my hands on his chest and rubbed at the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

“Well...y-yeah, i guess.”

“It was your idea. Thigh highs remember.”

His gaze went back to my thighs instantly. “How could i fucking forget.” He slid his hands under my skirt and grabbed at my ass roughly. “What else do you have underneath here?”

“Do you think i'm going to show you that easily?” I smirked.

“You will. Get up.”

I ignored him and instead buried my face in his neck to give him small bites and licks. He didn't seemed too pleased with that as he landed a harsh smack to my ass, making me hiss. "F-fuck...jerk."

"Get up, Eri."

I shimmed off him and stood between his legs as he resumed his reclined position and rested his arms across the back of the couch. Slowly, i unzipped the back of my skirt, pulling away the suspenders and letting it fall to the floor. I pulled my shirt over my head, adjusting my hair once it was free and let him drink in the small fitting lingerie set. His eyes widened and his adam's apple bobbed within the tightness of his throat.

"What?" I started covering myself, suddenly becoming self conscious.

"W-wow…" was all he said.

"Wow, what?"

"Sorry, you just look…" he licked his lips and opened his legs a little wider. "You look hot."

"O-oh...” Was all I really managed to say. He took my hips in his hands again, pulling me gently to sit on the couch beside him. He caressed every inch of me while his lips crept closer to mine until they melted together. I trailed my hands beneath his shirt rubbing the softness of his stomach and begging to get it off so I could drink in his perfect body. Instead, he ignored my prying hands and pushed me down gently. I slipped one of the pillows that always resided on the couch behind my head while Johnny settled himself between my thighs. He focused his attention in trailing hot open mouth kisses and bites over my chest and winding down my stomach. Every bite was coupled with a soothing lick and a small whimper from me. I edged my hips up towards his mouth wanting him to mark my favorite spots. He dodged pleasing the place I wanted the most and grabbed a hold of my right thigh. He lifted my leg up to meet his lips and spent minutes on end kissing and rubbing every inch of it. I relaxed into his touches, feeling myself heat up at all the attention. “If this is how you’re gonna act every time I wear thigh highs then I’ll wear them more often.” I teased.

His eyes flickered up towards me but he remained silent. His lips went back to my inner thigh, kissing down to hover over my center, his bangs gently masking his face. I nibbled my lip nervously, wondering exactly what he was thinking and planning. The kiss was swift, pressed just above my clit and gone in an instant. I didn't ask him for more. That little act was enough progress for him and I couldn't help but feel a little bit proud. I smiled as I petted his hair back, whispering praises about how good he was making me feel. Again, he said nothing, seeming to be completely focused on giving the same attention to my left leg. His fingers danced across the soft fabric on my calf as his lips remained heated and eager. When he reached my ankle, he sat back on his knees and I heard the soft zip of his pants coming undone. He pulled off his button up, followed by his undershirt, yanking it up by the the collar and leaving them both by his shoes.

I pulled him close to me so we were flush together and wasted no time feeling the strong muscles in his arms. We locked eyes for a moment, smiling at one another before diving head first into another heated session of push and pull of our tongues. His hand rested over my neck, alternating between adding and releasing pressure while his hips ground into my budding wetness. I squeezed my legs around him, finding it a bit difficult to work around the minimal space we had on the couch. He didn't seem to care though and he was perfectly content with keeping his big body against me. I took in every degree of his warmth, grateful as i was about to be stark naked in a cold apartment.

"Take them off." I whispered between a kiss and suck to my tongue. I pulled at the nearest belt loop my fingers could reach. He let out a breathy sigh and worked them off. I could already see how filled out his boxer briefs were. The fabric was straining around him, barely keeping him in place. "Did my thigh highs turn you on that much?"

He didn't answer and instead buried his face in my neck while his hands worked my panties down around my ankles. After, he pulled my hand between us, setting it over his hardness. His breath cradled my ear in a plea. "Touch me." He whispered. My free hand dug into his hair while the other pulled the waistband down and set him free. He seemed thankful to finally get a bit of relief and the beautiful moan that he let out when i wrapped my hand around him was enough to almost make me cum right there. I shuddered a bit as that noise tickled my nerves and sent me into a fit of desperate hormones ready to take in every single inch of him.

He was already leaking so much that i could coat his sensitive skin with smooth glides and gentle squeezes. His teeth sunk into my collarbone, pinching my skin between the perfect rows and adding tenderness to the area. I flexed my fingers around his head, focusing rough pulls there as he started rutting his hips. He matched my pumps almost perfectly, shuddering curse words and vocal approvals into my skin. I eased his cock closer and he shifted his hips to press against my lower lips. My eyes fluttered closed as he rocked himself through my slickness. I circled my hips each time the tip of his cock flowed over my clit and ignited my lustful greed for him. A stiffer groan bubbled in his throat as he grabbed my hips firmly, keeping me steady so he could control all the movements. That small bit of control made me squirm beneath him, impatiently wanting to feel more of his fire fueled veins ride through my lips.

My thighs trembled ever so slightly, feeling the ridge of his head tease my clit once more. I let out a small mewl and felt as the mellow rocks of his hips slowed so he could press himself against my entrance. “W-wait, Johnny.” I pleaded.

“Hm?” He stopped entirely, waiting for me.

“We should use a...ya know.”

“What for? We’ve already done it without one.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to make a habit out of it. I’d rather be safe than sorry, ok?”

He sighed and bowed his head before getting up from the couch. “They’re in that box still, right?”

“Yeah.” I said softly. He wasn’t going to guilt me into fucking him again without a condom. I didn’t play that, no matter how good it felt only a week ago (or how much I kept thinking about it for that matter). While I waited for him to return I slipped my hand between my thighs, coating myself in my wetness and pressing two fingers inside. I sighed softly and closed my eyes, concentrating on the self pleasure. A few moments later, I felt the couch dip again and heard him chuckle lowly.

"Please. Don't let me interrupt." He kissed my knee and kept my thighs wide open to enjoy the view. I adjusted myself a bit lower on the couch and added a third finger before stretching myself open for him to see. I moved my fingers up towards my clit adding a few circles against it that made my back arch. I felt Johnny hover over me, taking my chin in his hand and making me face him. "You're not gonna cum like that."

"I know i'm not." I smirked and set my cum coated fingers in my mouth, enjoying the way his eyes widened and pupils dilated at the sight. I grabbed his ass, pulling him to me again before forcing myself down onto his length. He pressed me wide open, stretching me and filling me perfectly. His bottom lip was caught in his teeth and he moved my legs to rest on his shoulders. I had no idea what possessed him with the thought that I was some sort of contortionist pretzel but as soon as i felt him hit deep within me my eyes fluttered closed once more and i clutched onto his arms. I could barely handle it. Every move he made was  absolutely flawless and heavy with lust that it made me moan more than i'd ever done before.

My breath was barely existent and he took the opportunity to capture me in another kiss, digging his fingers into my hair to keep me close. He seemed different somehow. More attentive, more touchy, more focused on us. It was like he wanted to spend hours within me and torturing me with orgasm after orgasm. He began rolling his hips, my calves jerking and toes curling around his head. I whispered his name against his lips, a scarcely audible beg for him to never stop. The sensation was so overwhelming i could feel tears edging to my waterline.

"You feel so fucking amazing, Eri." He said as his brows furrowed and sweat beaded across his temples. My body warmed at his praise, rolling against him to beg for more for more and clawing at the back of the couch. "C-can i try something?"

I raised a brow, confused at the timing of his sudden question. "H-huh? What? I don’t want you to stop, please."

"No, i know, me either but...i thought you might like this." He removed his arms from keeping himself propped above me and instead clamped one around my throat and the other over my mouth. He dug his fingers into my neck sending a shock wave to my system. My eyes widened as I never excepted him to get so into choking me. I was sure that he was still tentative to the whole action but the fact that he was doing this for me made my heart flutter with the prospect of love once more. "Is this ok?"

I nodded eagerly, tapping at his hips to remind him to keep fucking me as he took every breath from my lungs. My head dove into a fuzzing space of semi consciousness and pleasure, drowning in my deprivation. My walls clenched tight, holding the pressure and sucking him in as if he could go any further within me. His entire frame shuddered and his palm pressed harder into me, sinking against my windpipe. I worked my hips back against him, a bit quicker as i needed the fast pace to add to my imminent orgasm.  "Mo-more?" He asked softly, through his uneven breaths.

All i could do was nod again, helplessly, as my scream was blocked out by the hand over my mouth and he plowed into me relentlessly. I could barely keep my sanity let alone my orgasm at bay, especially when his movements were coupled with those deep groans he made. My lungs were aching at this point and my stomach tightened. Every muscle in my lower half tensed and just as I tapped his forearm to free myself from his restriction, my back arched and sent my body into a spasm. It was intense, definitely more intense than my previous orgasms with him and I gulped down heavy breaths just to keep myself from going dizzy. He pulled me into his arms, keeping me against his chest and cradling my head as if to steady me. "Ssh, i got you." He said.

The light above me was blinding and i blinked rapidly as another shock wave zipped through me from head to toe. He edged my legs down from his shoulders leaving me to finally relax a bit more. I clutched onto him and squeezed my eyes so tight i could see colors flashing in the darkness of my lids. It took another minute or two until i had calmed down enough, feeling like a bit of a fool for having to completely recover from an orgasm. I hid myself in his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't think it was weird. He kissed my neck, my cheek, then my temple, before pulling away so my chest could fully expand.

"Can you get on your knees for me?" He asked as he sat back again. I instantly looked down at his cock which seemed to be painfully swollen and throbbing just a tiny bit. I wanted to take care of him and slowly eased myself up into his favorite position. It wasn't easy, especially with my legs feeling like utter jello but i managed to get there. I gripped the armrest and spread my knees to the width of the couch cushion. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed into me, making me wince. He stopped and slowed a bit, giving time for my tender walls to readjust to his girth. My shoulders dipped and i bowed my head, panting as he worked my hips back against him. I shifted a bit until it felt comfortable again.

He slid his warm hands up my sides to between my shoulders, unclipping my bra and pulling it down towards my wrists. I flung it away and let him engulf my breast in his hands, kneading harshly and pressing his torso against me. He held onto me tight and forced brutal thrusts into me, barely allowing me to keep up. I was already becoming a giant mess of emotions and couldn't bare another breathtaking orgasm no matter how much I craved it. I curled my nails into the fabric of the couch as I felt his thumb rub over my nipple between rough gropes. I breathed out his name like a swear and dipped my stomach downwards, allowing him to nudge at the sensitive bundle of nerves only a few inches within me. Every once in awhile he would pop out completely, just to fuck me ever so slightly with his tip before crashing back in. That simplistic addition was practically making my eyes roll into the back of my head.

I could already feel myself tiptoeing on that fine line of a second orgasm but I was holding back as much as i could. With the way his muscles were flexing against me I could tell he was trying not to lose his cool just yet either but was very close to failing. "Johnny…" I mewled and wiggled my hips back against him, trying to coax him to spill into the condom. He growled low and deep within his throat, naturally and without thought, as I looked back to see him still in deep concentration. I bit my lip and smirked to myself over my favorite sound he made.

"OH MY GOD!" 

My perfect fantasy world was ripped apart when my eyes flew open and i was staring directly at Quinn and Jae who had come in through the front door. I screamed and scrambled to get the discarded blanket from the floor and pull it to my chest. Johnny quickly pulled out and balled up his clothes to try and shield himself from view. "ERI! RIGHT ON THE COUCH?!"

I could tell my face was beat red and i had no idea what to even say. Jae was covering his eyes, avoiding us at all cost. "Dude, gross. Put some clothes on!"

"Shut up! You weren't supposed to be here!" Johnny yelled.

"THIS IS MY HOUSE TOO! FIRST YOU DITCH US AT THE BOBA PLACE AND NOW YOU’RE FUCKIN’ OUT IN THE OPEN?!” Quinn continued to yell.

“Excuse me! You guys were being gross and LEFT US to go fuck in the bathroom first! We had every right to leave you because we weren’t going to wait until ya’ll got your rocks off!” I yelled back.

“Can ya’ll like...leave? I don’t even want to sit on the couch now.” Jae said, peeking between his fingers.

“Fuck you, dude!” Johnny got up, still holding his clothes in front of him. “Fuckin’ idiots.” He turned and headed towards my room making Jae groan when he saw Johnny’s ass.

“Bro! Come onnnnnnnnnn! Gross!” He groaned.

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do, huh?! It’s kinda difficult to put skinny jeans on with a goddamn hard on!”

I got up as well, in no mood to continue to be in front of them and wanting to shrink away immediately. I wrapped the blanket around myself and sprinted to push Johnny into my room and slam the door shut. I threw myself face down on my bed and screamed into my pillow. “I want to fucking die!”

Johnny tossed his clothes to the floor and crawled in beside me, pulling my spare pillow over his face and groaning. “Why are they like this? Why do they always have to ruin everything, i swear to god!”

“Please put me out of my misery. I can’t believe Jae saw me naked. Not only naked but getting fucking plowed!”

“I swear if he mentions anything about the way you looked i’m decking him in the face.” Johnny snapped.

“Wait do you think i looked gross? Oh my god, i probably looked gross.”

“Why are you worrying what he thinks?!”

“Well, i mean- if i’m gonna be naked in front of someone I at least want to look good!” I buried my face deeper into the mattress, mumbling a “nevermind.” Johnny pulled the pillow off his face and sighed. He snapped off the condom, tossing it into the trash beside my desk as I finally pulled my face up from the mattress. He set the pillow under his head and stared at the ceiling a permanent scowl on his face. I inched my way closer and set my head on his chest, sighing deeply. “What are we going to do now?”

He set an arm behind his head and looked over at me. “I don’t know. I’m not going back out there. Maybe i’ll just nap or some shit.”

I bit my lip. “I mean...We could finish…”

“Are you really still worked up after getting embarrassed like that?"

"Well they're not gonna see us in here! And i'd rather not think about what Quinn is gonna say about seeing your whole ass when you go home and I have to face them."

He ran both if his hands over his face and groaned again. "Christ…"

"Besides they act like I've never done shit on the couch! I gave Lucas a blowjob there!"

Johnny glared at me before rolling over. "Seriously?"

"What?" I asked confused. "What happened?"

He adjusted himself as best he could and didn't say another word. I shook his shoulder gently. "Whaaaattt?" He still didn't say anything which made me pout. "Johnny, why are you being grumpy?"

He shrugged me off his shoulder but I set my head on it instead. "Daddyyyy, tell me." I rubbed his chest and slid my hand down his stomach.

"Dont even." He grumbled.

"Then tell me."

"I'm fine."

I kissed at his shoulder then moved to his neck. "Nah-uh. You got all grumpy all of a sudden and i need to know why." I tiptoed my fingers lower, trailing down his body hair to grip his base. He grunted and still tried to ignore me. I made a hard bite just beneath his jaw before grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling back harshly. He hissed and grabbed at my wrist. "Tell me." I commanded. His eyes turned into slits as he gave me a death glare before tackling me, however with my bed being so small, we completely rolled over and fell onto the floor with a hard thud. I landed on top of him, straddling his lap. We looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"We can't win, can we?" I giggled.

"I guess not." He smiled as he pulled me down onto his chest and kissed me, pushing my hair out of my face. "I took the condom off because I figured you wouldn't wanna keep going."

"Hmm, i could go all night with you." I gave him a kiss and he rose to prop himself of his elbows.

"Well damn, i'm all for that." He smirked.

I shimmied off him and grabbed another from my box, eager to get back into action. He got up from the floor and back onto the bed while i tore the wrapper open and got between his knees. "You know...it was really hot when you choked me like that."

"I could tell you really liked it. I thought you were having an exorcism with the way you came so hard."

I rolled my eyes and blushed. "Don't flatter yourself too much." I rolled the rubber onto him and pushed him down onto the bed. He dragged me with him, positioning me to be his little spoon and pulling my legs open. I bit my lip and hid shyly into my pillow as he guided himself back into me. He sighed softly against my heated skin and kept my leg secured in his arm. I encouraged his thrusts, grinding myself back against him while his other arm slipped under my head and crossed over my neck, crushing my throat once more. I gripped the blanket beneath me tight, trying to steady myself in any way possible. Johnny bit at the back of my neck, keeping his control over me. I let out a strangled whimper when his hips sped up, snapping harshly against my ass.

I gripped at his hand that rested by my propped up leg and carried his fingers to my wetness. I wanted attention to my excited bundle of nerves but instead I felt his middle finger press into me in conjunction with his cock. I arched against him as that little extra addition stretched me further than i thought I could ever go. My fingers flexed with tension, practically shaking as my mind went blank. I could barely make out his cocky strangled whispers as I slipped closer towards another orgasm. He was curling his finger as much as he could while digging deep to the hilt inside me. I was squirming desperately and clamping down around him. He moaned my name deeply after a hard clench, his cock throbbing with his release. As he filled me, he slipped his finger out and gently rubbed at my clit, adding to the sensitivity. His hold across my neck loosened and i laid my head back on his shoulder, feeding into the loving attention. He stayed within me, his warmth filling my lower half while my cum covered him completely with my second orgasm, slightly dripping down between my cheeks.

We laid together for awhile, not saying much while we recuperated our breaths. He set my leg down and instead wrapped his arm around my waist keeping his chest pressed against me. I sighed and joined my fingers with his, giving his hand a slight squeeze. He nuzzled the back of my neck and stayed like that, drifting into sleep. It took me a bit longer to try and rest and i found myself distracted by the Rilakkuma plush that had fallen to the floor. I stretched my arm all the way out, reaching for it while trying not to disturb Johnny too much. My fingertips just barely grabbed it by the ear and I pulled it close, snuggling it to my chest.

I felt happy, more so than I was used to and the fact that it was caused by Johnny scared me the most.

--

We had spent days texting each other, sending stupid memes, videos, and sweet good morning snapchats. He would occasionally send me short clips of him playing around on his keyboard which made me feel warm with hope that he was getting his creativity back. I dared to share videos of me practicing guitar but never me singing. I was always out of frame too as i was still too shy to show him all of me. Quinn would grill me every time i stopped whatever i was doing to answer him immediately. Those little messages were starting to carry a lot of weight and even more so when they turned into late night facetime sessions or the occasional phone sex. I had even saved a selfie of him as his contact photo that would pop up every time he called.

Our little bit of free time was spent together, watching shows on Netflix, episode by episode, or even having online Overwatch matches where we would curse each other out. I never wanted to be healer and he wouldn't cover me when i needed him most. It was a pain but still proved to be a good time and we almost always ended up laughing in the midst of battle. He was even patient with listening to some of my band recommendations though he still wasn't too keen on some of the heavier stuff I listened too. I appreciated him trying though. It would suck when we would have to work and couldn't pay attention to our phones to respond as much. Tonight was one of those nights. I knew he was closing at the cafe and i was eagerly waiting for his response for when we could hang out next. Somewhere around 10:30 i got a phone call from him instead.

"Heyyyyyy beauutifullll." He said with such saccharine sweetness i knew he was up to something.

"What do you want?" I said flatly, needing to get past his little cover up.

"So...remember like a week or so ago when we went to get Boba and left Jae and Quinn at the place?"

"Yes?"

"So….he kinda got back at me."

"What do you mean?"

I heard him sigh deeply. "So this morning he said something was wrong with his car and asked to borrow mine. He promised to take me to work and pick me up while he tried to figure out what was wrong. Well i've been trying for like over a half hour to call him and even tried Quinn but neither one of them are answering. And uh...this isn't my pay week so I'm broke as fuck and cant afford an uber. Sooo….would you be able to come pick me up?"

"See, i told you we should've gone back to get them! But noooo, you had to be so headass about it!"

"Yeah yeah! Save your 'i told you so's'. Can you just pick me up? Please? It's cold out here and I'm freezing my ass off. It's starting to snow."

I sucked my teeth. "Fine. You owe me."

"I'll steal you some cake pops and breakfast sandwiches tomorrow."

"Deal. Give me 10 minutes. I'll be there."

"Thanks, you're awesome."

"No shit." I smiled. "I'll see you."

He hummed a goodbye and we hung up. I pulled on my fleece lined sweatpants and my winter layers before trudging out to my car. There was only a thin layer of snow on the windshield so i thankfully didn't have to stand outside and dust it off. I cranked up the heat as soon as I got in and headed towards his job. It didn't take me long to see his dark figure in the stillness of the parking lot. He ran up to the car, his breath visible puffs and nose bright red.

"Fuck, it's cold! Thanks, babe." He climbed in and shut the door and I noticed he looked completely drained and tired. His dark circles were more prominent and his smile seemed a bit forced.

"Are you ok?" I asked, concerned.

"Huh? Yeah, i guess. Why?"

"You seem like you could pass out at any minute. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

He chuckled. "Uh, no. When do I ever? I'm running on coffee and energy drinks."

"That isn't good Johnny…" i set my hand over his. "You need a break."

"Yeah tell my bosses that. It ain't gonna happen, princess."

"Have you eaten?"

"Don't have money too. Too busy at work to eat either. I'll figure something out when i get home."

"Johnny, what the fuck." I sighed and put my car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. "You're coming home with me." I switched into drive and headed back to my apartment.

"No offense, but i'm not particularly in the mood to fuck right now. I know, shocking, but my feet and back are killing me."

"I'm going to feed you and you're getting a bubble bath."

"A what? I don't take bubble baths. That's like...girl stuff…"

"I will slap you. Bubble baths aren't a gendered activity, idiot. Everyone needs to get clean." I rolled my eyes. "You're doing what I say and i'm not getting any back talk about it, got it?"

He put his hands up in mock defense. "Fine, fine. Whatever you say." He closed his eyes and rested his head back in the seat and I was sure he was dead asleep in seconds.

I took my time driving home, letting him enjoy his quick nap. I gently shook him awake when i pulled into my lot and he shuffled out of the car like a zombie, following me to my door. We tossed our coats and hats on the floor, not bothering to hang them up and set our wet shoes on the doormat. I went to work cooking pasta (the quickest and cheapest thing I had to fill him up) while he stretched out on the couch to fall asleep again. He woke up instantly once I held the steaming bowl of finished spaghetti by his face and devoured it like a ravenous dog, asking for seconds soon after. I filled up his bowl again and set some aside for me, eating much slower than he was.

"I'm gonna get the bath going for you, ok?" I said once I was done.

"I can just shower you know."

"Baths help relax your muscles. Didn't I say no back talk?"

He rolled his eyes and left me to my own devices. I made sure the water wasn't too boiling before adding a bath bomb and a ton of bubble bath soap, bath oil, and some epsom salt. I even tossed in some soap flower petals I had gotten from the local dollar store and always used when i took my baths. I lit the candle that stayed on the top of the toilet tank and surveyed my handiwork. It was about to be a fun time. "Johnny!" I called out to him. "It's ready!"

He came into the bathroom and took one look at the bath and almost walked out. "What the hell is all of this?"

"Clothes off. Get in."

"Eri, this is ridicu-"

I pulled at his shirt. "You smell like sweat and gross coffee. Naked. Now."

He pulled his shirt over his head and nudged his socks off with his toes. "Don't you think it's-"

"Pants. Lets go."

He pursed his lips and slid off his dress pants and underwear. "Alright, fine. I'll get in." He walked over to the tub as if it was going to attack him and dipped his foot in slowly. "You want me to boil in there?! Why is it so hot?"

I rolled my eyes at him acting like a baby and turned on the cold water to bring it to a better temperature for him. "Try that."

He dipped his foot in again and seemed satisfied with it. He slowly sunk down and settled as best as he could given his long limbs. He stood quiet for a second before looking up at me. "This is the shit."

"Oh my god. I told you! You're over here with your fragile masculinity about taking a bath. It's the best thing ever! Hashtag self care, homie."

"Get in here with me." He grinned.

"Oh, and where am i gonna fit when you take up the entire tub?"

"We'll figure it out, just come in here. The water's niceeeee."

"Yeah because i made it that way." I left the bathroom adding that i would return in a second. I went back to the kitchen and pulled out the last two beers I had, flicked off the caps and took it back to the bathroom.

"Helllll yeahhhh." Johnny perked up when he saw what i had in tow. I handed them over to him to hold while i discarded my clothes and maneuvered myself between his legs with plenty of difficulty. My tub wasn't made for a giant and me put together. Eventually we settled into a mostly comfortable position and i rested my head back against his chest, sipping at my beer. He seemed to be preoccupied by gathering suds in his hands and squishing the bubbles like a big kid. I took another sip and set the glass bottle onto the floor a little bit aways from the tub.

"You look like a toddler playing with the bubbles like that." I laughed.

"I'm just having fun. Besides, i can do this with them." He smooshed a handful of suds into the side of my face, catching me completely off guard.

"Oh you ass!" I wiped my face and flung the bubbles at him, getting it in his hair and face. He set his beer down beside mine and tried grabbing me, making water splash over the edge of the tub. I was a giggling fit as we tried to see who could cover who in the most bubbles. He splattered more into my hair though I was trying to block him as much as I could. I had closed my eyes for fear of getting soap in them and swatted at him until i felt him grabs my wrists and pull me close. We were still laughing out asses off until i wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Isn't this better than some boring shower?" I smiled.

"Yeah, everything's better with you...but i do actually have to get clean. My hair is greasy as fuck."

"Oh, hold on. I grabbed my shampoo from the corner of the tub and pumped some into my palms. I slathered it into his hair, pushing it back before dipping my hands in the water. I scratched at his scalp, rubbing the shampoo in and making sure any didn't get into his face. He didn't protest at all and instead leaned into my chest, letting me take care of the rest. I wiggled onto my knees to get better access to him and he of course took the opportunity to grabs my ass, laughing when he slapped it and made suds fly about. I smacked the back of his head playfully and demanded he stay still when my nails were digging into his scalp.

He kissed my chest and neck, promising he would be a 'good boy' and making me roll my eyes. Eventually, i grabbed the shower head and rinsed off his hair though he shook the water from it like a dog and doused me. I proceeded to force the shower spray in his face which only made him grab me again and practically dunk me into the water. He was barely relaxing but definitely smiling and having fun which i guess was still a win. When i slid back up he wiped the suds away from me and kissed me, keeping me cornered between the edge of the tub and his body. I smiled into the kiss and wrapped my arms around him again getting lost in my usual happy place.

We stayed like that until the water ran cold and made us shiver. I drained the tub and turned the shower on letting him fully wash up and get conditioner in his hair. There was a bit of a distraction when he was "helping me get clean" and his hands dove between my thighs. I almost fell for it because he always knew how to work me up in seconds but i was able to keep him at bay and make him rinse off. I stepped out the shower first, wrapping my hair in a towel and getting another for around my body. I padded out to the linen closet to get a spare and tossed it at him while he stood dripping in the tub. I went to my room to scope out some of Lucas' clothes that Johnny could wear for pajamas- well if he wanted to. He always did sleep naked. He came into the room a few minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist and still dripping just a bit.

"Did you actually want to sleep in clothes tonight? It is pretty cold." I asked.

"Yeah tha’ts fine….is that my hoodie?" He asked as he caught sight of his hoodie that rested over my desk chair. I had kept it since the night after the Halloween party.

"O-oh….yeah, uh… do you want to wear that?"

"I almost forgot you had it. It's like my favorite hoodie too." He grabbed it and briefly gave the hood a sniff. "Hm…"

"What?" I asked before pulling a pair of sweatpants out of the drawer for him.

"Nothing, it just smells like you now."

I raised a brow. "Uh...sorry?"

"Nah, its cool...how often were you wearing it?"

I didnt need him to know i slept with it on almost every night so i shrugged coolly. "Eh, once or twice. I didn’t really pay attention to it."

"Mhm." Was all he said before I handed him the sweatpants and he pulled them on. He crashed face down onto my bed, groaning happily as he finally got to lay down. I finished drying my hair, tying it up, and pulled on my comfy oversized pjs. I got in bed beside him and kissed at his bare shoulders.

"Do your muscles still hurt?" I asked.

"A little. Mostly my lower back. It was truck day so of course i had to get all the boxes of coffee and shit organized and lift every thing. I'm just ready to sleep."

I slipped over his hips and ran my hands over the small of his back. "Do you want a massage?"

He looked back at me. "What?"

"A massage. Like you know, to relieve some of the tension?"

"Oh...ok?"

"What? You never gotten one before?" I laughed at his incredulousness.

"Not really. I usually do it for girls to get them in the mood or whatever. Touch their tits."

"You're definitely the romantic." I shook my head and dug my palms into his lower back hearing a few vertebrae crack. He cursed softly and i felt his entire body relax beneath me. "There you go, dummy. That’s better."

I worked my hands over his muscles, sliding them across his shoulders and working my thumbs into the back of his neck. "Damn Eri, what did I do to deserve you?" He chuckled.

"I mean, i'm definitely the best you've ever had and the best you'll ever get." So why don't you ask me to be your girlfriend already?

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I will say though that you've got the best ass and you're turning me into an ass man for sure."

"And a thigh man too."

"All of it." He smirked.

"Get into anal, then we'll talk." I cracked a bit more of of his spine before leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"Hm, doubt it." He closed his eyes and pulled my Rilakkuma plushie that had become my sleeping partner close to him. Why did he have to be so fucking cute? It was getting impossible to ignore my feelings for him no matter how hard i tried to suppress them. It was bad enough that he made me laugh and smile but we were actually getting along pretty well. He was starting to seem absolutely perfect and yet...he would never have feelings for me. I sighed internally as i slid off him and pressed myself into his back, becoming the big spoon. He didn't move or shrug me off so I assumed he didn't care. That or he was already passed out which seemed like the most logical explanation.

I pulled the covers over us and wrapped my arm tight around his waist. Eventually the stillness of the air around us and the calmness of his breathing got to me. Slowly, i started falling asleep, encased by his warmth and my feelings of never wanting him to let go.

--

Johnny's POV

I felt hands grabbing at me, clutching at my shoulders and chest. I tried to block them, shove them away. I pleaded for them not to touch me. I didn't need to feel used again. Or dirty. Or weak. I screamed then, burning my lungs as tears rolled down my face.

"JOHNNY! WAKE UP!"

The voice was different then what I was expecting and I opened my eyes to see her face full of worry with a red mark on her cheek. "E-Eri?" I could barely speak.

"I think you were having another night terror. I-i was trying wake you up but you kept fighting…"

"D-d-did I hit you?"

"I mean...i know it was an accident. You were in a state of panic." She dragged her thumb across my cheek and I could feel her wipe at the tears there. They hadn't stopped flowing and i realized how much of a fool I was. I never cried in front of anyone. I would never show that side to me. Not only had I told her my deepest secrets but she had watched me have not one but two night terrors. Now here I was crying-no, sobbing- like a little bitch. I had to leave. I shoved her away quickly, probably harder then i needed to and got up from the bed. I was in a rush to pull on my hoodie and get to the front door while she was calling out to me to slow down. I couldn't bare too.

I ran out of her room, wiping furiously at my face. I gathered my coat from the floor and shoved my feet into my work boots. Quinn was just coming through the door and stopped as she saw me. "Johnny? Are you ok?"

"Did Jae drop you off?! Is he still downstairs?!"

"Wh-what? Yeah. Did something happen between you and Eri?"

"Johnny!" I heard Eri cry out. I moved Quinn out of the way and took the stairs two at a time, calling out to Jae as another wave of tears threatened to push through. I threw the front door open and waved at him, his eyes widening as he sat in my car. I got in the passenger seat as fast as I could.

"Johnny, i can explain-"

"Drive!"

"What? What happened?"

"JUST DRIVE!"

"Fuck! Ok!" He hit reverse and backed out before speeding away from the apartment. "What's going on, bro?"

I covered my face with my hands and rested my elbows on my knees. "I can't do this anymore. They're getting worse. I cant fucking do this."

"What's getting worse? Did Eri do something to you? I'll turn this car around right now, i swear to god."

"No. No. Just go home. Please just take me home."

"You need to tell me what's happening. I mean it." He said, sternly.

"Not right now. Later. I can't...fuck, i can't…" i sniffled and rubbed at my eyes again, trying to make sure I didn't shed another tear. Jae didn't say anything after that but I could tell he wanted to. I just needed to know why I couldn’t get over this. It had been over a month since it initially happened but only a couple weeks since she had left me alone for good. I had spent so much time with Eri that I thought it would be over but she could only do so much. And now i had hit her, an accident, but it still brought me back to how I felt when the bruises were all that were left of Rixi’s torture. I pressed my head against the cold glass of the window and watched as the street lamps passed by.

"I really worry about you…" Jae said in Korean, which meant he was completely serious.

"Yoonoh, i said not now." I replied. My Korean wasn't the best of the best and my accent was complete shit compared to his but I could at least hold a conversation.

"I know not now, we don't have to get into it but i still wanted you to know. I'm here for you and if she so much as hurt you-"

"She didn't. Eri would never. I know she wouldn't. But...I just keep reliving what happened and can’t let it go. That's all."

"Maybe...you should try like therapy, man. They have those groups for survivors and-"

"I'm not a fuckin' charity case and i don't need therapy. I'm not gonna sit there being the only dude and get laughed at. I can deal with it on my own." I snapped.

"Can you? Because it doesn't seem like it." He said, softly.

"I don't even know anymore…"

He pulled up to our place and i walked ahead of him which was when i realized i had left everything in Eri's room. I sighed and set my head against the door wondering if Jae would go back and get my keys, wallet, and cell phone for me. I didn't want to face her. After all how did you face the person you had feelings for when you just cried right in front of them.

--

Eri's POV

He hadn't talked to me in a couple weeks again which was starting to become the most annoying and frustrating thing about him. Just when i thought i was breaking his walls down he would block me off again. It was like all those perfect moments we shared together meant nothing at all and we were back to square one- or square zero for that matter. I kept promising myself that no matter what Johnny did to try and weasel his way back into my life I wouldn't let him. I couldn't fix him, i couldn't stop his night terrors or anxiety, and I sure as hell couldn't get him to admit that he needed more help than i could give. It wasn't my job to build him back up even if i was okay helping him out a little. I still did care about him and didn't want him to suffer but I also had to move on for my sake.

However, the way I coped with everything was my favorite self destructive habit. The other lead singer of my band, André, had invited me over for a house party with some of the other people we normally played with at the club. Even a few of our friends who were on tour had come down to our shitty little college town to see us. It had been about a year since they had gone on tour and I was so damn happy to see them. Too many drinks later we were jumping on the couch and breaking shit, playing riff after riff on our guitars and laughing our asses off at stupid stories. I had no idea how many people I kissed or how many times someone asked me to hook up with them. Headbanging made me dizzy but i did it anyway. Hanging around a bunch of metalhead dudes was not the time to punk out. I stopped myself from puking a few times and managed to get a round of Three Amigos in; my specialty. One shot of Fireball, one shot of Honey Whiskey and a last shot of Bourbon.

That pushed me over the edge into bad decision territory. I stepped out of the apartment for a minute in a fit of drunken giggles. I unlocked my phone and trailed through my contact list ready to make a fool of myself. I dialed the number and waited. It only rang two times before he answered.

"Eri?" He sounded confused and a little bit sleepy. My sense of time was distorted.

"Heyyyyyy cutie. How's it going?" I giggled.

"Fuck, you're drunk."

"Absolutely not! I'm just a little tipsy, that's all baby, I swear."

"Yeah, no. You're drunk. I'm the last person you'd be calling."

"I miss your dick though. A lot. I think about it sometimes. It felt good. So good…"

His tone changed a bit, voice getting a little deeper. "Oh? Yeah? I guess I can admit I’ve thought about you a few times too."

"But you hate me!" I whined. "You're always so mean to me and you never talk to me!"

"I don't hate you I just hate the shit surrounding you is all. It's too much drama. I just want to fuck you without any problems."

"You can fuck me. Please fuck me."

"Eri…" I heard him sigh softly. "I can't, baby. You're drunk. That's literally illegal."

"Nooooo, no. I'm not I swear. Can I come over in a bit? Will you stay up for me? I'll make it worth your while."

"If you come over i'm just gonna have to babysit you and make sure you don't choke on your own vomit."

I let out a frustrated grunt, his name coming out short and snippy. "For the last time i'm not drunk. I want you to fuck me, ok? All these idiots at this party want me but I don't want any of them. I want you. I want you...all of you. For the rest of the night."

"Why do you do this? You're a heartbreaker and a fucking tease, you know that?"

"That's how I get them to keep coming back." I smirked. "Do you really not hate me? Like...for real."

"I meant what I said. I really don't hate you. I've thought about you more than enough. I've thought about when I was inside you, when we kissed, the way you looked at me when you came, how good you looked at the summer party. I've wanted you for awhile but never had the guts to say so, and always hated the shit you brought around."

"I'm a good girl, i swear. I won't cause any trouble. I really need you. Please?"

"Ok, ok...promise me you'll sober up first. And for the love of god don't drive. I'll call you an uber if you need one."

"Hmm, no. I'll be ok. I'll be there soon. Just be ready for me."

"You're a pain in the ass, i hope you know that."

"So are you, jerk." I giggled. "Bye." I hug up my phone, biting my lip as I was happy to get my hook up for the night. I missed him a little and needed to get my mind off of everything and he was the perfect distraction. Suddenly, the door swung open and my arm was grabbed.

"Why are you out here?! We need you to show Justin that he doesn't know shit about a good solo!" André said. "You need to kick his ass!"

"Ok! Ok! But only one. I've got to get somewhere after and sober up."

"Boooooo! That's boring! Where the hell do you need to go?"

"To get laid, duh! Where else would I go?"

"Oh great. Did Crystal call you up again? She was supposed to be coming soon." He said.

"Nah, not Crystal. An old flame. But tell her that she's more than welcome to get back in my bed and be tied up." I set my arm around his shoulder and lead him back into the apartment. "Now let's show that dumbass who's the head bitch in charge around here."

It was another hour or so before I left. I wanted to at least get some water in me before I headed over to his place. The snow on the ground had turned into slush as the past few days had been rainy. Tonight was barely any different. When I had gotten into the uber it was drizzling but as soon as I got to the apartment it had turned into a torrential downpour. The quick walk to the front door had me soaked in seconds and absolutely freezing. I knocked on the door fast hoping he was still up like he promised.

It took a minute but he opened the door. His eyes widened at my shivering state and pulled me in quickly. "Jesus, what happened to you?"

"It's p-pouring and like 30 degrees out. I'm f-fuck-fucking freezing."

He pushed the wet hair away from my face and cupped my face in his hands. I clutched onto his tank top, desperate for warmth and for his touch. He kissed my trembling lips and after such a long time of not being with him i realized exactly what made me hook up with him in the first place. He was always so attentive and ready to please me that it made my heart burst into a fast paced sprint. "Let's get you a hot shower, ok? Don't need you catching a cold, angel."

"Hmm, you know i'm far from an angel, but I will take the shower with you.” He closed the door as i took off my leather jacket and untied my combat boots, yanking them off and almost stumbling to the floor. He caught my shoulder and helped me straighten up.

"You good?"

I giggled. "Yeah, definitely." I took his hand and headed towards his bathroom. "C'mon Taeyong, I promised to make it worth your while didn't I?"

[michael-langdon-baby]

Salvation

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Original Character

Word Count: 4.2k~

Warnings: A bit of gore tbh....

Chapter 9: Desperation

Masterlist!

Emily trembled as Ms. Mead stood in front of Timothy, her inquiry still in the air. They both knew this was the worst possible scenario in the case that they got caught. She would take them to Venable, or worse, take her to Langdon, where he would no doubt kill them. Emily nervously shot her eyes to the open laptop, wanting to reach over and close it.

“I’ll ask again; what are you two doing in here?”

Both of them scrambled for excuses, but Emily was first to answer. “We were waiting for Langdon, we wanted to talk to him about the Sanctuary.” Mead seemed skeptical with squinted eyes but let her continue.

“We’re just as concerned as everyone else about getting out of here- if not more. We want to be saved- it may look dumb but we saw no harm in trying. We just wanted to talk to him.”

“And yet, he isn’t here and you were fiddling around with Mr. Langdon’s things.” Ms. Mead took a step forward and Emily took one back, “Plots against this Outpost are strictly forbidden, punishable by death. Now, you two-“ Her eyes darted between them, “wouldn’t do something like that, would you?”

They eagerly shook their heads and denied her jest, to which she quirked a dark colored brow. It was simple for her to turn and take a peek at the laptop that Emily had been hovering over when she’d arrived, and gasped at the image displayed. Her hand slammed it shut and turned dark eyes to Emily.

“Keep your mouth shut about what you saw girl, else I’ll put a bullet between your brows. Clear?” Emily nodded and tried not to let her lip quiver.

“Get out. And don’t let me find you doing any of this shit again.” They were gone with their tails between their legs, scampering off down the hall, away from Mead. Timothy shut the door to his room and watched Emily sit on his bed, gasping for breath.

“What the hell did you see?” She gave him a look. “Oh, c’mon, she can’t hear us in here.”

“You don’t know that. Venable and Mead are crazy and I-I-I don’t wanna die over this.” He ran to her and held her shaking face in his hands, “I won’t let her touch you Em. We’re in this together.”

She nodded while tears slid down her cheeks, eventually leaning forward and stuffing her face in his chest while letting harsh sobs and he simply held her close, tightening his grip at the thought of Mead or Venable actually killing them for snooping around. Timothy loved her and they needed to survive, doing stupid shit like this couldn’t happen again.

Her sobs stopped and red-rimmed eyes stared into his, “I trusted her, and she’s been lying to us.” He was confused. “Who?”

And Emily growled, “Julie. I saw her. With him.” Timothy barely had an understanding of what Emily was saying; had there been pictures of Julie and Langdon? Together? “You mean like before the blast?”

She nodded and “what should we do?”

“Tonight, after dinner, we’ll confront her and see what she knows. If that picture was anything to go by, than she should have more than enough information on who Langdon really is.”

~

“What do you want from me?”

His nose skimmed her neck, dragging across the soft rose smelling flesh he’d come to know and crave like the desperate fiend he was. She could feel his hardening cock pressing against her clothed hip, yearning to feel her closer. He opened his mouth with a smirk and those black eyes watched her with a desperation she’d grown to crave. He whispered the same answer like the serpent he was,

Those nimble fingers skimmed her clothed thighs, wishing they were touching her smooth flesh, feeling the soft skin that belonged to him.

“Everything.”

The last time Julie had slept this good was way before the blast, years before. If she really thought about it, it had to have been the night of a birthday- she’d gone out and done something fun, with someone she couldn’t remember, but the memory of sleeping that night felt just like now.

It was a stretch that had her back cracking, moan echoing when she flopped back onto the bed with a huff. Last night was fresh in her mind; she was- by some magical force- herself again, and she’d had a visitor that had fucked her in a way that had her biting her lip. He’d taken her like he’d owned her, like she was his to fuck and use as he pleased- just thinking about his strong hands and thrusting cock had her wet.

But the severity of the situation stopped any lewd thoughts; how was she supposed to explain to the other people how she’d gone from looking like a mummy that had lost its wrapping to herself? Oh god, what would Venable say? And what if…?

She scrambled off the bed and started pacing like a madman; what if someone had heard her? She’d been executed on the spot under Venable’s bullshit rule of no fucking on the premises. She stopped- then again, no one had come for her.

The clock read 9:45, and seeing as there was no more breakfast the day was hers until supper. She was making her way to get dressed when a distressing thought popped up, looking at her stomach and wondering how long it would last. Would she grow frail sooner or later- none of it made any sense but when the world is over, nothing really ever does.

Today was a day for a simpler purple dress, brown curls left down the rest of her covered shoulders. In her house, shoes were an option, not a necessity, but at Outpost 3, shoes were required, which always made her groan. This place would never feel like home.

The door slid open with ease, and no one was out; there wasn’t a Grey in sight, or a single Purple lurking about. She listened and couldn’t even hear Venable’s cane stopming about. This was a bit odd, but she still slid the door closed behind her, shoes clacking as she walks about.

No one was in the parlor, which once again, was really strange seeing as Evie, Gallant and Coco like to sit in there and drink all the water while spiting everyone here. Julie never really hung around there and don’t ask her if she thought they deserved to be saved, cause they sure as hell did not. And seeing as Evie was ancient, Gallant was gay, and Coco was… well she was Coco, none of them would be very productive in furthering the human existence. But then again, she still barely understood how she’d been chosen.

It was a quick walk upstairs that had her gazing at closed doors that were usually kept open. This was starting to feel like a horror movie.

She knocked on the first door, waiting for a response. A minute or two must have passed before the door was pulled open hard and fast, a pissed of looking Coco glaring at her, the glare morphing from hatred to shock, and then almost disgust?

“What in the fuck happened to you? Yesterday you looked like a goddam coke addict and now you look like -“ Her hand motioned to the entire length of Julie, who in turned shrugged. But Coco wasn’t having it and tugged her in, pushing her against the door.

Her red lips looked chapped up close, and the large hair styled on her pale head was all out of place. Coco was as strong as Julie, but Coco was also angry and anger was a strong emotion. “You’re gonna tell me what the fuck you did you fucking freak or I will rat you out to Venable for sneaking food.”

“You’re a liar-“

“Am I? How else are suddenly fatter than fucking Kirstie Alley after Christmas dinner? Tell me, or I go to Venable and get your ass shot in the brain.” This was bad, this was really fucking bad because she didn’t have an answer and even though Coco was lying out of her ass, Venable loathed Julie and would take any opportunity to shoot her in the head. Why couldn’t she just have a good thing and not have shit like this always bite her in the ass.

“Coco, please, I swear to you-“

“You’re fucking dead-“

A knock at the door, on the slab of wood that Julie was up against was jarring to Coco, who grinned like a snake and threw Julie from the door, puling it open with ease and a smile, fully expecting Gallant, Mead or luckily Venable.

Langdon stood in front of Coco will a small smirk, hands tucked behind his blazer covered back, rings clinking lightly as his fingers tapped against one another. Coco was shocked to say the least, “Is it time for my interview?” Any thought of blackmail at Julie flew from the room.

But Langdon simply chuckled and took one large step into her space. Julie was still hiding off to the side of the room, but she was the interaction and felt jealousy swell in her gut. He was so close to Coco, whispering something in her ear that she wished she could hear.

His mouth moved away and Coco was off running in a flash. Julie stared as the door shut on its own, leaving just her and Langdon.

He was a vague memory from last night- it felt like longer than that, it wasn’t just last night was it- and it was hard to pull it up. Emily had gotten her and she’d sat on the couch as his words flowed into one ear and right out of the other, only a small understanding present in her mind.

His eyes searched her like he wanted an answer that she didn’t know, and he looked just as good as he had the night before. She wondered if his hair was as smooth as silk, or as soft as cotton. Her finger twitched at her side as his gaze met hers.

It was three striking steps and he was directly in front of her, eyes staring into hers in a way that made her heart want to beat out of it’s entire cavity and flop away. The silence was killing her, but what did she say?

“Hello.”

He gave a smile and waited a beat before mimicking her, “Hello.”

It was a pulsing in her skull that made the pain start, her hand reaching up and clutching her temple. He simply continued to stare, watching her eyes scrunch up in pain as the pressure grew to a point of being unbearable and her knees started to give out. And at that point, Langdon swopped forward and held her up with his arms.

Her breathed into her ear, “Acceptance is always simpler than resistance Ms. March.”

Her eyes turned blurry as he held her gaze, it was a gaze she knew, she knew him-

The trees were waving in the wind and the sun was going down, but the day was far from over. Their day at the carnival had been just absolute perfection; there had been cotton candy and hot dogs that tasted worse than the ones from 7-11.

The best part was when he’d won her a blue teddy bear, and kept it clutched close to her chest. The Ferris Wheel had gone out of service just as they’d been at the front of the line, and even when he’d offered to ‘fix it’, she waved him off with a smile. There would always be more fairs. They’d made sure to go into the Hall of Mirrors, and the little zoo had four goats that seemed to take a liking to him more than her.

It was nearing dark and they were running out of things to do, so then they left, walking to find a recluse park to collapse in the grass; the sky was clear above them and no one was around. Julie turned on her side and so did he, his blue eyes watching her youthful face with a smile.

They wished it would always be like this; Julie and Michael, together forever. It was written in the stars that they were meant to be. He’d told her before that there was no other on the face of this hellish world that could replace her, and she knew there was no one else she’d rather hold than him.

“I love you Michael. No matter what happens, you’ll always have my heart.” It was simple as maneuvering his hand to lie flat over her chest, his hand feeling her heartbeat in his palm.

“I love you Julie, and I promise, I’ll never leave y-

Reality was jolting to the human mind, and a tear slid down her cheek as she looked at Michael. No this was Langdon, Representative of the Cooperative, the one who was their Salvation. The memories made no sense, if she tried she couldn’t remember them, they only came out to give her the same as a hammer to the skull.

And Langdon simply held her close, desperation bleeding in his gaze. But the film reel that had played in her mind was gone and she was alone with a stranger. And as if he could tell, he righted her straight up and released her with a sigh.

“Come to my room tonight. Do not be late.”

He was gone with a gentle close of Coco’s door, and for some reason, Julie wished he wasn’t.

~

Supper was truly an affair that would’ve been better spent with the cannibals outside than in here with the inhabitants of Outpost 3. What once was one cube had become 1/4 of the whole, and for once, their eyes weren’t on the food.

All eyes were on Julie- except Coco, who refused to even look her way, and Gallant looked like he couldn’t care less. But Evie, Andre, Dinah, Emily and Timothy were nearly gaping at her like she was a new act in the circus. She didn’t let it irritate her, and simply refused to meet eyes with Venable or Mead. It was like the piercing glare from Venable was a harpoon ready to launch, and she couldn’t say she was ready.

But it came all too soon, “So, it seems one of us has had a miraculous recovery seemingly overnight.” A loud gulp from her pristine mineral water filled glass. “I would say this is lucky news but then again, one less person would have given the rest of you a few more days worth of food. But nonetheless, this is truly a miracle. Don’t you think Ms. Mead?”

Mead grunted and shot a dark look at Julie, to which she simply turned away. The only noise was the clattering of forks as each person took miniature bites of their cubes. Julie noticed there was an extra seat to the left of Venable- Stu would’ve sat there, but it was still set.

It was then she realized Langdon wasn’t there. It made sense that he didn’t want to eat with them, they were basically peasants compared to him. He was the current king of this domain, even if they all knew that Venable would rather die than not be in control. She wondered if their fearless leader was like this before the blast.

Surprisingly, Coco tried to start the conversation, “So, has anyone met with Langdon yet?” Gallant made an affirmative noise. “And how was it? C’mon, give us a heads up so we’re ready.”

But he shook his head and nibbled on another piece of cube, “I mean like, there isn’t really a point to tell you cause you can’t cheat the system so you may as well go in blind like I had to.” Most of them nodded but Evie sneered, “You just don’t want to help your fellow man. How cruel of you.”

Julie watched his fork drop to hit the plate with a loud twang and turn his head sickeningly slow to shoot daggers at his grandmother. “Oh you’d know all about cruelty grandma.”

Had something happened between Gallant and Evie that no one had clued her in on? The animosity inside this Outpost was hard to keep up with sometimes. But then again, maybe it was better off staying in the dark about some things. And it wasn’t like she didn’t already have enough on her own plate.

The biggest factor was as simple as a name: Langdon. He was something strange and new, yet being around him brought forth memories she didn’t know she had. It brought forth a feeling in her gut that either made her sick or giddy- it was hard to tell. His arrival had simply brought along chaos; both good and bad.

She felt Emily prod her dangling hand, the not perched on the table holding the fork, and shoot her tight smile. But it was a slight pain in her gut that had a look of distraught covering her face. It was like knives piercing her inner gut and sliding into the lower abdomen.

“Is something wrong?” Venable asked this as if it was an inquiry about the weather and not a concern that bothered her in any way. So she simply grit her teeth and shook her head, staring down at the last bite of cube.

A thin sheen of sweat started to drip down her temple, a slight shake in her right leg alerting Timothy to her shaking, but he didn’t know how to help. Maybe he could cause a distraction so everyone would have to leave, but what could he do…

“Hey Coco,” Timothy made a show of pointing to his head, “Is that a spider in your hair?”

The commotion that ensued was enough for Emily and Coco to rush Julie out of the room and away from Venable’s sight. The coughing had subsided but a steady stream of blood was leaving her nose.

Julie was so confused; what the hell was happening to her? This couldn’t be real, she’d been healed- it wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was a quick sweep above her mouth and the blood was gone, but the pain was still there. This wasn’t just hunger, she knew hunger, this was something else.

Except the only thing she’d eaten were the cubes; The gelatin cubes that were filled with enough nutrients to keep her alive and not die or starvation. But this wasn’t starvation; it just didn’t hit you this fast. This was something more.

It was a harsh knock at the door that had Emily and Timothy turning to each other, knowing there was no were to hide, and they didn’t even have a chance as the door harshly slid open, revealing Venable with a darkly colored sneer.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.” Julie had been in the bathroom washing up and vomiting the very little waste in her stomach, and stumbled back at the sight of Venable in her room, cane in one hand, and the other- a plate with one cube.

“Get out.” And the two teens fled, Emily shooting a sorry look at the girl Julie, knowing that Timothy and her couldn’t get the information they needed tonight, and while they were mildly disappointed, no one deserved to be left alone with their masochistic ruler. Timothy shot her one last look as he slid the door closed.

It was tense inside the fairly large room, shadows from the fire reflecting on the walls; Venable near the door and Julie near the bathroom, facing off against one another. Except it was an unfair fight and Julie would undoubtedly lose.

Venable let out a breathy laugh, “You know, I was a receptionist before all this. And I was just like you; so pathetic.”

A fire burned in Julie’s gut- she couldn’t tell between the pain and rage. “I’m not pathetic.” And Venable started a low chuckle, covering her mouth like a schoolgirl before it turned into a vile loud chortle that echoed on the walls. It was minutes before she stopped and Julie had yet to move from her standing position by the bathroom, even as Venable moved forward to sit on the edge of the bed.

She sat so gracefully; “Open your eyes Ms. March.”

Open my eyes!

“The difference between us is I earned my place here. In fact, Outpost 3 would be overrun and barely standing if I had never stepped foot in this decrepit underground chamber and saved you all from yourselves.”

“Why are you even here? Is it because you just want to hear yourself talk?” Venable snorted and slid a hand into her dress pocket, pulling out a small pistol and pointing it straight at Julie.

“I’d watch how you speak to me, I can still very much kill you and have no blood on my hands.” But Julie had a feeling she wasn’t going to kill her, at least not now or with a gun.

“But there isn’t a point to shooting me is there, not when you’ve been poisoning my food this entire time.” Now that had Venable turning and meeting her hard gaze.

“Now that is a strong assumption Ms. March. One that could get you in trouble.” It was no damn assumption and Julie knew it; the reason she’d become sick was Venable or maybe even Mead had been tampering with her food, making her sick enough to bleed.

It was a gamble and a stretch to throw such a heavy accusation at a woman who was holding a gun directly at her, but there was little doubt in Julie’s mind that Venable was behind her bloody nose and shaking skin. “And if I was? What could you possibly do to me?”

“I could tell everyone and we both know exactly what they’d do to you.” Julie had the upper hand now. “They’d throw you outside, let the canker puss monsters tear you apart. And even if you managed you get away, you wouldn’t survive.”

Venable’s face grew red with rage and Julie knew her trigger finger was itching to take the shot, but she dropped the gun with a smirk. “I would like to see you try and take me down.”

Venable used her cane to stand tall and tap it twice on the ground, the noise echoing through the room, before a few hard steps brought them nose to step.

Venable’s voice was a whisper; “I’d like to see the whore who shares Langdon’s bed rat me out as a traitor.”

What? “What?”

Venable chuckled, as if there was a joke she was missing. “Ms. Mead came across some interesting photos of you Langdon.” Julie grunted when the cane smashed against her bare foot, “I would think twice about threatening me Ms. March. I don’t need a gun to kill you.”

The two women glared at each other for a moment longer before Venable swiftly moved away, cane tapping against the ground as she walked to the door, turning back with a smile. “See you tomorrow at supper. Don’t be late.”

Her knees gave out at the same time the door shut. Wetness welled up and spilled down her cheeks; Life was just unbearable at this point. She just wished she were back home with her mom, laughing in Chloe’s car as they listened to horrible early 2000’s rock that they knew every word too. She wanted things to go back to normal.

It would be a complete and utter lie to say the thought of slitting her own throat, or wrists, hell, just smashing her head in the glass of the shower stall until it rained blood. It would end the pain, and she could see her mom again.

Her legs felt like iron weights that wanted to hold her down, but she lifted herself up and stumbled to the bathroom, nearly glassy eyes searching the large cream-colored room. The few steps to the sink were easy, and she gripped the edges of the sink, nails digging into the porcelain. In the mirror, she saw herself; her brown curls and glassy eyes made her let out a cheap laugh.

No one would miss this. She was rearing her body back when a hand landed on her forearm, stopping her for a moment. The mirror showed Julie and the man in black, his hand stopping her from a desperate act of desperation that made him want to scream.

She mumbled a solemn “I’m sorry” before continuing her previous act, smashing her face into the glass of the mirror- once, twice- , blood and shards raining down on the bathroom floor. Red ran into her eyes and pain was all she felt, a smile gracing her lips. It would be over soon.

Langdon watched through the eyes of the rubber man as his Julie, the Jewel of his heart bled on the bathroom floor. It was painful to see her like this; it made him want to burn the world all over again. But none of that mattered; he would never allow the one woman in his life that was destined to be with him simply die.

Happy Halloween and I hope you enjoyed!

[husbandits]

[taking some time to be Big Gay with my boi- TW: internalized homophobia]

Male reader!

He's initially a little cold to you

he's used to being picked on by the others, so when you show up, he half-expects you to just start making fun of him too

maybe he even preemptively starts shit, just so he doesn't have to deal with waiting for it

or maybe it's because you're /cute/ and he's always been a boy who pulls pigtails at heart

but when you don't retaliate like he expects, acting more confused and almost hurt, it puts him out of the fugue a little

he'll warm up to you a little after that, not snapping at you or closing himself off from conversation

maybe he even starts to think of you as someone he could have as more than a friend

eventually he gets over it

figures you'll get tired of him eventually, and move on to someone more interesting like arthur or charles

he'll let you get close to him, invite him to come with you on jobs, but won't get close enough himself to get personally invested

it'll take some pushing from you to bring that out of him

it's a somewhat boring trip through strawberry that does it

the two of you are out collecting money, maybe picking up supplies for camp, if you feel like it. you're leading your horses through a field, contemplating either heading back for camp or finding a place to stop for the day

you don't hear the cougar until it's right in front of you, drawn to the scent of the rabbits slung over your horse

the big cat slinks forward into view, and Bill freezes up, paralyzing in fear

you act fast in contrast, reaching for the gun on his hip and taking a quick shot at the cougar

you don't hit it, obviously, but the animal spooks anyway, leaping at you with a snarl

it barely grazes your shoulder, thumping heavily into Bill and racing off in a blind panic

the horses startle too, pulling away from the pair of you with a cry, and you're distracted from your companion, going instead to catch your horse and calm her down as soon as you can see that bill isn't too hurt

bill pulls himself up off the ground after a moment, shaking

there's blood seeping into his jacket, but he brushes off your concern with a grunt, stomping off to go find Brown Jack

he tries to avoid you when you get back to camp, but you don't let him

as soon as Miss Grimshaw lets you go, promising to let your shoulder rest, you go to find him

find him hiding next to his tent, makeshift bandages in one hand, the other hiding the blush spread thick over his cheeks

he jumps when you talk to him; won't look you in the eyes, uncharacteristically nervous

when you tell him you just wanted to check on him, make sure he's okay, bill seems to get even more flustered, insisting he's fine and shoving you away before you can get a good look at him

after that though, when you push to make sure he's healing well, he'll let his guard down around you a lot more

he'll tell you when he's feeling rough and like shit, and let you confide in him when you need it

(this is also when he tells you his real name)

and all of this only adds to the mounting yearning that is your crush for him

your shoulder burns as leans against you, so drunk he can't stop giggling; you find yourself going out of your way to get him anything he mentions needing, when you head into town

the thought of what his kisses would feel like is the constant subject of your daydreams

eventually, it gets to the point where you spend almost all of your time either with him, or thinking about being with him

you're on a job with hosea and trelawney, missing the feeling of him beside you, when you realize you can't hold off on this much longer

even if it ruins everything you've come to enjoy, you have to do it

when you finally, finally work up the nerves to confess your feelings for him, out of camp of course, he's initially quiet

he might believe you, for half a second, and then he'll realize you're making fun of him

somehow you found out about his secret little fondness, about his feelings for you, and now you're turning it against him

god he's so stupid for thinking you'd actually be anything but disgusted at the thought of someone like him loving you the way he does

in a split second, he'll get angry, hackles rising as he physically fights the urge to shove you away,

looks around for whoever's hiding in the trees to watch this

you're used to him pulling back so you apologize, quickly, and draw back in on yourself, giving him the space he needs

you tell him you don't want to ruin the friendship between you two, you just had to say something

and that's what snaps bill out of the spell

there's something… familiar about the way you talk about how you feel, something that feels intuitively genuine

like you've actually felt this way, actually wanted him, for whatever reason

so when you draw back further, discouraged by the scowling expression he reaches for your hand

pulls you back, face growing red as he fights the urge to run and hide, protect this side of himself

"you're not fuckin' with me"- it both is and isn't a question, his voice uncharacteristically soft, uncertain

he let's go of your hand as if it burns, clamming up again

"i c-can't-"

you cut him off, pushing up and pressing a kiss to his lips

soft and quick, as if he'll break if you touch him a second more

the light blush building up on his face explodes at that, flooding his cheeks and ears a deep red. bill sits there, utterly still as you pull away, struggling to process what you just did

you find yourself smiling, even as you take a step back, giving him some room

with a hum, you turn, calling for your horse

you give bill a quick, fond look, heaving yourself up on the mare

"i'm gonna go see if i can find some game, you gonna come?"

[iamvegorott]

Confused

Sequel to Link, a Trickshot drabble that I have more I want to explore with it.

Confused

Marvin left his bedroom, eyes red and sore from crying for most of the night. He’d finally given in on trying to get proper sleep and was now holding a mug of coffee as he stepped into the living room, finding that it was empty. Chase listened to him. He hated that he wished he hadn’t and stayed. Marvin could still feel the kiss against his lips, how soft and warm it was and how much he craved for more but would not let them do that to himself or to Chase.

“Why can’t I just be straight?” Marvin asked out loud, those word hurting so deep that he wished he had never spoken and he just kept going anyways. “It would be so much easier if I was.” Marvin hugged the mug to his chest, the heat from the freshly made coffee warmed up his face. “It’d be less painful if I didn’t love him.” Marvin scoffed at himself and slammed the mug down on the counter. “What the fuck am I saying?” He wished someone was here, anyone to just slap some sense into him. He knew who he was and he’s been this his whole life, wishing and hating and questioning changed nothing when it came to who his heart yearned for.

He was gay.

That was a fact.

And now Marvin’s learned that Chase was as well, at least to some degree...unless he just got caught up in the moment. That he just wanted to touch something and not caring who it was. That he was lonely and-

“No, no, no.” Marvin scolded himself. “Chase is not like that. He’s a dumbass, not an idiot.” Marvin went to his couch and found a notebook laying on one of the cushions, he knew it wasn’t his since it was the wrong type of paper. Marvin knew he shouldn’t look at it, it was an invasion of privacy and he should just keep it aside. “Pros and Cons?” Marvin said when he flipped open the notebook and saw two lists.

The page had been titled ‘Stacy’ with a line down the middle, the right labeled ‘Pros’ and the left ‘Cons’. The pro list only had one thing written down:

Get to see kids

The con list went all the way down the page and ended up with a second collum

Kids aren’t happy I’m not happy Stacy’s not happy Yelling Fighting Feel empty

How was he supposed to feel about this? Chase had to literally list out why he should or shouldn’t leave his wife, to leave a toxic relationship that wasn’t good for either of them.

“I can’t believe...this...” Marvin flipped the page and his jaw dropped when he saw there was another Pros and Cons table, this time with his name at the top. The Pro was as full as Stacy’s Con

Great guy Caring Smart Honest Know me better than me Sexy

Marvin’s face flushed at the last word. He didn’t expect that at all and it just got worse when he read the one Con

It might not work out

“What do I do with this? What do I do?” Marvin closed the notebook and tossed it away. “What in the hell is happening?” He quickly turned towards his door when it was knocked on. There was no way it was Chase. It couldn’t be. That would be ridiculous and careless.

“Hey…” Chase weakly greeted when Marvin opened his door.

“Your face.” Was all Marvin could say, the bright red mark on Chase’s cheek looked as if it was still stinging.

“It’s compli-” Chase stopped himself. “Can I come in? I’ll explain everything.”

“Yeah.” Marvin let Chase in and closed the door. “Sit.” He said with a small wave to the couch, heading to his kitchen to get some ice.

“Oh shit.” Chase cured when he found his notebook, praying that Marvin never opened it.

“You can explain that too,” Marvin said when he came back in, Chase still looking into his notebook.

“I have to write everything out,” Chase stated, taking the rag-wrapped ice from Marvin. “Sometimes it takes me doing that to realize how fucking stupid I’ve been.”

“I’m shocked that notebook isn’t filled,” Marvin said with a little smirk, letting Chase know he was just teasing but Chase just sighed.

“You’re right.” Chase dropped the notebook and pressed the ice to his face, hissing a little. “After I did it, I just stared at it, thinking. So much thinking.” Chase looked at Marvin. “And a lot of thoughts I discovered I’ve been refusing to have.”

“What happened?” Marvin asked, sitting in a single seated chair. “To your face.” He added for clarification.

“Stacy,” Chase said to start, sitting himself down on the couch. “Wait,” Chase added when he saw Marvin sit up, brows scrunching in anger. “It’s more than that, she’s not in the wrong for hitting me.”

“Chase, that’s not how that works, no one ever has a-”

“It was self-defense.”

“What?” Marvin had thousands of scenarios running through his head.

Did Chase hit Stacy? Was Stacy worse off? Did she call the cops? What happened to the kids? Where they there? Did they see it? Did they hear it? Do they even know it happened?

“When I went home this morning, I sent the kids to Stacy’s sisters since she lives down the block and told Stacy we needed to talk...and talking became arguing pretty soon.” Chase lowered his hand, holding the ice between his hands now. “I would never hit her, the thought has never even come to mind, but she doesn’t know what’s going through my head at all times. I was pissed, I was in her face and I was screaming. I was calling her terrible things that I never knew I thought till then. It was stupid. She got scared. I’m larger than her, I’m stronger than her and she struck me. She slapped me to get me away because she didn’t feel safe.”

“Does it still hurt?” Marvin got up and went to the couch, now sitting next to Chase. “It doesn’t look like her nails broke the skin.” Marvin got a closer look at the mark.

“It was just a quick slap, just enough to get me to stop.”

“So...what are you doing now? About all of this?” Marvin asked.

“We’re getting a divorce,” Chase stated and he chewed at his lip, fighting back tears. “It’s the best for all of us.”

“I…” Marvin put a comforting hand on Chase’s shoulder, not really knowing what to say. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.” Chase put his own hand on top of Marvin’s. “It’s just gonna be really hard.”

“Yeah, it will be.” Marvin watched as Chase moved his hand to cup his cheek. Marvin gently held Chase’s wrist and leaned in when Chase kissed him again, a soft kiss, a short kiss, just enough for a touch before pulling away. “You can stay here,” Marvin said, moving Chase’s hand away from him. “On the couch.” He added as he stood. “We’re not going to do anything stupid, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to help you with this, I’m going to make sure that everything it right for all of you and we can’t let anyone have any leverage over anyone to persuade the judge.”

“Oh.” Chase took a second to realize what Marvin meant. He was still technically married, he couldn’t do anything with Marvin, even if both of them wanted to.

“We can start over and do this slowly, do this right.” Marvin picked his mug back up as he headed for the kitchen entrance. “We can do this, it’ll just take time.”

“Marv?” Chase turned so he could look at Marvin, glad that Marvin was willing to look at him as well. “Thank you.” Marvin just gave Chase a small smile before walking out of the room, beginning the long journey of recovery and self-discovery.

Requests are CLOSED (Unless Done By Donation) Commissions are OPEN

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[tracies-tales]

Letter by Letter

Dear Arin...

Dan’s pen paused. He pinched the tip and wiggled it as he surveyed his work. He’d written plenty of love songs in his day, comedy variety though they were. Writing out an actual love letter was basically second nature. Although, it wasn’t helping him get his feelings out and onto a tangible page as he’d hoped it would. He’d heard that pouring one’s soul out in words was a way that helped some people manage their emotions.

Looking at the letter again, Dan was pretty positive this had only deepened his infatuation.

It reminded him of everything he loved about Arin. It was filled end to end with the feelings that he tried to convey to Arin every day. Once he’d begun spilling the things he desperately wished he could find the courage to say out loud, he’d found it difficult to stop.

Because this letter also contained his terror.

As much as his heart was laid out in ink, so too was the underlying fear that this letter could mean the end of their friendship. He didn’t truly believe Arin would shun him if he knew how Dan felt, but he knew things would never be the same. Not really. You can’t just confess your undying love for a person and not experience a change one way or another. 

A sigh parted Dan’s lips as he folded the paper and laid it on his chest beneath his hand. Somewhere, deep down, a piece of him yearned to give Arin the letter. The worst that would probably happen was Arin would apologize and say he didn’t feel the same way. Then they would go back to their lives, recording Game Grumps sessions, laughing at dick jokes, doing his best to hide the pain behind a smile.

He shifted to lay down on the Grump couch, utilizing the space while everyone else was absorbed in their own projects. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned into his palms. He tried to get himself to accept the fact that Arin’s gay jokes were just that--jokes. But he said them too often, the inflection of his tone always just lilted enough to make Dan’s heart flutter and his thoughts turn to static. The way Arin’s hand would always linger on Dan’s arm or shoulder, or ass, on special occasions, made Dan unable to help but wonder. 

“Whatcha got there?” Arin asked.

Dan jumped and snatched the letter off his chest, crumpling it into his fist. “What’s what?” he asked, far too quickly to be convincing. He hadn’t even heard the door to the studio open.

Arin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Ooohhh, secrety secrets?” he prompted as he shut the door behind him.

Dan snorted, unable to help but chuckle at his tone. He figured he might as well play along. “Yes, the tippitiest toppest of secrets.”

“My favorite kind!” Arin walked over. Dan didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced to Dan’s hands as he sat up.

Dan shook a finger at him, “No siree, they’re secrets for a reason, Ar.”

A pout immediately overtook his features. They almost made Dan feel guilty enough to show him right then. “Dannyyy,” Arin whined, sitting next to him and leaning heavily into his shoulder. “Come on, at least give me a hint.”

Dan hated when he called him Danny--it was so damn cute. “Dude, cut it out,” he smiled, ruffling Arin’s hair with his free hand. 

“Not until you tell me,” Arin looked up at him.

Dan pursed his lips. He was distracted just long enough by Arin’s puppy eyes for the letter to be snatched from his grip. “Hey!” Dan yelped, leaning to try to grab it back.

Arin stretched his arm to its maximum limit and leaned away from him, holding the paper out of reach. “Dan, come on, how bad can it be?”

“It’s just stupid song lyrics!” Dan blurted, immediately cursing himself for such a blatant lie.

“You’re never ashamed to show me your ideas for new lyrics,” Arin retorted. However, he relented and shifted back up, holding the letter out. Dan grabbed it, but it felt like some otherworldly force was stopping his hand from yanking it away.

Dan frowned down at it, refusing to meet Arin’s eyes. “I know,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm up with a tingling blush. 

“So...what is it?” Arin asked, his tone much less jovial than it was a minute ago.

Dan bit his lip. He shut his eyes and said, “It’s...a letter. To you.”

That made Arin’s brows knit in confusion. “To me?” 

“To you.”

“So why the hell were you so adamantly against showing it to me?”

“Because, I-” Dan’s voice got caught in his throat. “I wasn’t...sure if I was ready for you to know,” he replied, letting the paper go.

Arin glanced to his hand and back up to him. Waiting for approval. Dan grinned in spite of himself, through all the roiling fear tearing his guts apart; he was touched that Arin was actually double checking to make sure he had permission. Dan nodded, but he couldn’t meet Arin’s eyes. He tucked his knees up to hug them as he heard the crinkle of the paper being unfolded and straightened out. Then Arin began to read aloud, which only made Dan’s grip on his legs tighten.

“Dear Arin, 

Where do I begin? I guess all letters have to start somewhere. So here it is, greatest intro to a letter there ever was. Smooth, Avidaniel

How was I supposed to know? I need to stop starting lines with questions How could I have known how big of a part you were going to play in my life? 

Maybe it was your charming smile. Maybe it was your musical resounding laugh. Maybe it was the way you wanted me, a 38 year old nobody, to be your Game Grumps partner in crime. I don’t fucking know, but somehow you took a hold of me and never let me go.

No amount of words in pen, text, audio recording, or verbal assault will ever be able to quantify what it means to me. What you mean to me. Because, fuck dude, you mean the world. 

You deserve everything you have. I mean it. The internet popularity, the lovelies, the job, you’ve worked your ass off for this. Everyone is so proud of what you’ve accomplished, and I couldn’t be happier or luckier to get to see you shine so brightly. I don’t care that the spotlight isn’t on me--you’re more of a star than I’ll ever be.

Shit, I’m running out of paper already. Curse my own large-print hubris! 

I suppose there is one way I could have summed this up rather than write a whole ass essay about the subject.

What I’ve been struggling to write this whole time, because once I’ve written it I’ll know for sure it’s true:

I love you, Arin. 

Nothing’s ever going to change that, whether or not you do, too. 

You can count on it, Big Cat.”

The silence in the room that followed gnawed at Dan’s stomach like acid. Maybe giving him the letter wasn’t the best idea after all. Was he mad? No, he was probably thinking of the gentlest way to turn him down. The waiting was agonizing, driving Dan insane.

The horrendous ache was quelled by Arin’s arms wrapping around him. They encompassed Dan entirely, legs and all, into a snug embrace. Dan was shocked enough that he forgot to adjust to help as Arin hauled him into his lap. The paper had left Arin’s hand and fluttered to the floor.

A sniffle made Dan turn his head. “Arin? Are...are you crying?” he asked.

“Fuck you, what do you mean am I crying?” Arin laughed, the sound broken up with gentle sobs. “How the fuck am I s’posed to read shit like that and not get emotional?”

“I’m...fuck man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even mean to give it to you, I...”

“So you were just gonna bottle it up like some kind of dumbass?”

Dan blinked, “What?”

“Like I haven’t been hinting this at you for years,” he scoffed. “Years, Daniel! I spent this entire damn time thinking the same shit, more or less.”

Dan was dumbfounded. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes, as well, “Really?”

“Of c--of course really! What the hell do you think I was implying? I was hitting on you but really what I wanted was to bang Ross?”

The curse of the static-brain returned. “Hitting on me?”

“Holy fuck, you really were clueless,” Arin laughed, snuggling his face into Dan’s shoulder. He sniffled again and said, “This is only about a couple years too late, but I love you too, Dan.”

Warmth blossomed in Dan’s chest, and his heart raced with no indication of slowing any time soon. He had succumbed to tears as well, beaming at Arin before he shifted his torso and threw his arms around his neck. When Arin lifted his head in curiosity at the adjusted posture, Dan pulled him into a kiss. 

When they parted, Dan noticed Arin now shared his blush. “I’m glad,” Dan said, unsure that he could manage to say anything else.

They both turned their heads when they heard the door opening to Ross, who said, “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” His gaze drifted to the floor as he noticed the letter. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Dan and Arin said.

cliche? maybe a little

regrets? none

this was inspired by the book “to all the boys i’ve loved before" :) ps i know dan’s 39 i just picked 38 bc idk

edit: this additional little note is to let y’all know i really am taking writing suggestions almost always so if you have ideas or a prompt from somewhere else you want me to tackle, pitch it to me! the worst i can do is say no (and I probably won’t, unless it’s too terribly nsfw) :D

[hellochapsdg]

Blog? I guess?

Alright fuckers, I think I wanna start this, sorta as a journal, sorta as a cry for help, sorta as getting my thoughts to other people in a longer form than a text or message. 

So...what are my thoughts now

Well for one thing, I’m lonely as fuck

If you know me deeply enough, you know that already, but some people probably don’t know that about me. Yep, practically every day or every night I am lonely. 

This isn’t a recent pubesent thing either, this has been happening my entire life. I remember always wanting some sibling, as I’m an only child. I remember asking my mom when I was like 5 if we could adopt a kid because of that. For some reason I always wanted some younger brother or sister. Maybe it’s because I like to help people, maybe it’s because I was lonely. I hate whenever I tell anyone I’m an only child, because they always claim I’m lucky. As if it was some sort of accomplishment to be the only one. It’s a surprising amount of pressure. For one thing, the lonelyness. But also the inadvertant pressure from my family. I’m the only child from my parents. It’s not like I can be a failure but it’s okay because my parents still have a kid to look forward to their accomplishments, nah. Instead, if I’m a failure, they feel bad because they don’t get a seccond chance. 

But yeah, crippiling lonelyness. I’m not sure if it’s from my depression, or my social inneptitude, or the fact that people just hate me, but I tend to isolate myself fairly often. It’s not deliberate. I never want to be alone, not talking to anyone but my parents for days at a time, but nobody ever reaches out. I’m always the one to initiate conversation. I’m always the lonely one with no social events or anything. I haven’t seen my friends once after school ended for the summer. I really do want to, I just don’t wanna be an annoyance to other people, or try to be that person who wants to do something. I want to do things with my summer besides what my parents say and marching band. I want to go out with friends, but I don’t have a vessel to do that with. I’m getting to the point where less and less people have free time to hang out because of working. Meanwhile, I can’t work, but that’s a story for a different entry. So I’m stuck at home, with nothing to do and nobody to talk to. That’s how I get lonely.

Another way is romantically. I like people, I get crushes on people. But they’re either straight, or I know they don’t like me the way I do. 

Like many gays, I’m pretty into Steven Universe. The problem is that show has a lot of themes about loving yourself and loving other people romantically. But I haven’t felt that double sided romantic attraction before. Have people had crushes on me: yes. Of course, those people are girls, and I ain’t into those. No guy(that I know of) has liked me that I like back in the same way. Which sucks, I have no clue when I will get into a relationship like that. I really want one, I yearn for one, but I’ve pretty much had crushes on every gay in the school and they’ve all turned me down, so I’m probably hopeless. At least in high school. 

The problem is, once again, my parents. They met in high school, and they’re still together. Somehow. Plus, outside of high school, I have no clue how I’m gonna meet people. I wouldn’t end up well on Grindr, or any other similar apps. Those are practically just “Do you wanna fuck them? Yes or no?” 

And of course, nobody wants to fuck me. I am way too ugly for anyone to feel that way. I know that. I hate that. I’ve accepted that, but I wish it wasn’t the case. Some people have liked me, most likely due to the fact that I supposedly have a “good personality”(personally, I don’t see it.) However, I am about 99.99999999999% certaint that nobody has looked at me and thought “Damn, he’s hot.” No human being on Earth probably would say that looking at me.  I somehow look 35 and 13 at the same time. I pretty much have the epitome of a dad bod, at 16. I hate it so much. I hate my body so much. If I could somehow go into practically any body of another male, I would probably accept it in a heartbeat. Most of that is weight related, but are you surprised? I’m 16 and I weigh 300lbs. This isn’t some sort of case where I’m like a pound overweight and I complain that I’m fat. No, this is a serious thing, and it helps the ugliness. So imma be honest, I don’t see much of a future where I’m romantically involved with anyone. Nobody would be blind or stupid enough to find e attractive, at all. I know that, I just need to accept that as a fact of life, and not something that with enough finnessing I can change. 

So that’s a synopsis of what you may see on this blog. 2AM rants about how ugly I am, and about a bajillion pounds of self hatred. Thanks for reading, I guess(Like anyone is actually going to read all the way down here)

[glitterdustcyclops]

five times bridget saw frankie (and one time she didn’t)

i have literally maybe only ever finished two stories in my entire life, and this is now one of them. i’m proud of how it turned out and so i’m posting it here. read on for gay smooches, angst, and pining. also see my sad gay feelings playlist for the soundtrack to this dumb little fic. enjoy~

1.

The first time Bridget sees Frankie is a hazy summer day. A party. They’ve just finished their junior year of high school and there’s this pervasive sense of freedom in the air, a yearning towards something; hundreds of sticky sweaty bodies in need of a distraction.

Summer parties happen at Brianna’s house, because Brianna’s got a swank mansion with a giant pool and incredibly permissive parents, and pool parties are a good excuse to be more naked than usual. Rampant hedonism and red plastic solo cups. Things get pretty crazy at Brianna’s summer parties.

There’s terrible music and screaming-giggling girls, a splash as someone is “accidentally” knocked into the pool, and Bridget is sitting on a patio chair by herself feeling like a sad loser. Her and Brianna are fighting again—not that Brianna would ever actually admit that—and her and Ryan are fighting because her and Brianna are fighting and her other so-called friends are ignoring her and Bridget’s actually pretty sure she wasn’t even invited to this stupid asshole party and like honestly, she didn’t even want to come anyway, she has no idea what she’s even doing here, this is the fucking worst and she’s going to leave and then—

She sees her.

Frankie.

Frankie is standing there in a halter-neck top straight out of an episode of I Love Lucy with a coordinating pair of high-waisted polka-dot patterned shorts, looking all innocent and batting her pretty little eyelashes. Talking to Ryan and pretending like she doesn’t notice the way he’s sizing her up like a goddamn meal. God, fuck her. Okay, so maybe it isn’t necessarily Frankie’s fault—Bridget was the one who suggested she and Ryan go on a “break” in the first place, and more importantly, she fucking hates him right now because he fucking sucks but, still.

It’s Frankie.

Bridge has hated Frankie since middle school. She can’t even really remember how it started, but Frankie doesn’t exactly make it hard to hate her. She’s just so fucking stuck up, all the time. She’s so weird, and she has to be doing it on purpose for attention, no one is just genuinely like that. And, okay, so they’re probably definitely way too old to keep doing this Mean Girl shit, but still. It’s one thing to have to put up with Frankie in class—always the teacher’s pet, the gold star favorite—it’s quite another to have to deal with her here, so perfect and pretty waltzing around like the Indie Romcom Sweetheart with her stupid pink hair and her stupid vintage clothes and her stupid instant camera and her stupid cat-eye glasses and—and—

Just who the fuck does Francine Takahashi think she is, anyway?

And before Bridget even knows what she’s doing, she finds herself headed towards them, towards Ryan with his fucking shirt off and water glistening on his carefully sculpted abs, standing too close and just leering—and Bridget’s already got some stupid plan half-formed in her head.

2.

The second time Bridget sees Frankie is about two weeks later. She’s done her best to put the whole stupid drunken night behind her, as much of it as she can remember anyway. Which is not a lot, but enough to know that Bridget hopes she never has to look at Francine Takahashi again. Ryan and Bridget are still not talking but she’s back to orbiting around Bri, because she doesn’t know what else to do with herself. And then, one day, Bridget finds herself in a mall food court, realizing not for the first time that teenage girls are fucking awful.

“Bridgie oh my God really?” Brianna whines behind her, voice Valley-Girl perfect. “So now you’re just gonna throw a fit and walk away? Okay fine, later loser!”

Bridget is walking away but she can practically hear Brianna’s eyeroll, her “oh I’m so totally not affected by this at all” put-upon sigh. Of course, she knows Bri way too well to buy that. She is pissed. Good. Fucking whore.

Bridget storms halfway across the food court—impulsive, anger sparking along her nerve endings—and that’s when she notices her.

Frankie.

She is perched at a table near the escalators by herself, drinking a smoothie and reading a book. Because of course she can’t scroll through her phone like a normal human being. Annoyance flares in Bridget’s eyes for a second, irritation tinged with regret, but somehow, she finds herself headed towards the other girl anyway.

“Uh, hi,” Bridget says once she’s close enough, all these mixed emotions settled in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight, and she’s already deeply regretting her choices thus far.

Decades, eons, a literal eternity passes before Frankie finally looks up from her book, setting it face down on the table and quirking up an eyebrow slightly.

“Oh, hello,” she says, politely enough. Maybe that’s a good sign.

“C-can I sit here?” Bridget blurts out. What the fuck—oh my god no—why—what are you doing?!

Frankie half shrugs up a shoulder, casual, and then just sits there, staring at her. Blinking. Waiting. Bridget takes the opposite chair.

Frankie blinks. Bridget swallows.

Silence. It’s awkward.

And then—

“Okay no, I gotta ask,” Frankie finally says, half to herself, “why?”

“Uh, why what?” Real smooth there Bridget, she thinks, bitterly.

Frankie makes a—a sound, strangled in her throat, her nostrils flaring; and then suddenly, she’s talking, or more like yelling, words spilling out of her in a barely-restrained angry huff.

“Ohh no. No no no, you know exactly what I’m talking about. How the fuck are you gonna sit there pretending like—like you didn’t—like, okay, sure I get the first time. Let’s play spin the bottle and embarrass the Lesbo! Ha ha, very funny—”

Bridget winces with embarrassment. She wants to run away again, wants to hide, to pretend like it never happened, but the lead in her belly keeps her anchored at the table. Like, like she deserves it somehow.

“I—I’m—”

“Oh what, are you sorry?” Frankie snaps back, eyes hard—glinting—this mean little half-smile on her blue-painted lips, and it’s just fucking weird seeing that expression on sweet-innocent-perfect Frankie’s face.

Bridget shrinks back a little, almost subconsciously, but that doesn’t stop Frankie. She’s on a roll now.

“For which part are you sorry Bridget? The part where you tried to play the lamest prank on me in the history of ever, or maybe, do you mean later when you came and you found me and you—”

“Stop!” Bridget feels her throat—tight, constricted—something sour and ugly bubbling up from the lead in her stomach. She doesn’t—she can’t—not here, there’s too many people here.

“Stop what?” Frankie sneers, arms crossed in front of her chest, nails digging into the skin. Everything about her is like a pit bull on a chain, snarling and ready to lunge, and it makes the dread in Bridget’s stomach boil higher. “You fucking kissed me, okay, and I’m not a fucking idiot. I know the difference between a prank and—and that. Don’t fucking do that.”

“I—” Bridget is frozen. She knows, oh God she knows.

“Well? Say something Bridget! Tell me how it was all just a big funny joke, tell me how when you moaned against me you were just totally kidding, no homo. Come on Bridget—”

“Shut up!”

To Bridget’s surprise, Frankie actually does. Her eyes big and wide and shocked while a couple at a table nearby stares at them. Bridget will probably definitely die of total mortification about this later, but for now all she can see is Frankie, all that hurt and anger her face and—fuck. Guilt tightens Bridget’s throat; the sicksour dread and anxiety of it all, and if she could zip herself out of her own skin right now, she totally would.

“I’m sorry okay!” Bridget shouts back, words bubbling up from her stomach to her too-tight throat, all of it crashing together and spilling out in a horrible jumble. “I’m sorry it was stupid and I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have—just, I please, just please, please I’m sorry! Are you happy now? Okay? I’m the worst and you should probably just hate me forever like everyone else does and—”

Bridget knows she’s about to spill over into a full-blown emotional breakdown. She can hear how hysterical she sounds, but she can’t stop it, like her whole body’s on autopilot and she’s just screaming trapped in her brain trying to hit the buttons but they’re not doing anything, and the small rational part of her left just wants to melt into the floor from the embarrassment of it all. Especially when she feels tears welling up in her eyes, a couple drops breaking free to spill over her cheeks with that horrible wad of wet, messy emotions still caught in her throat.

“Uh…” Frankie looks at her, caught somewhere between utter confusion and rage, which must be a weird emotional place to be in, and Bridget will definitely be dying about this later.

“Do—I mean—” Frankie attempts, while Bridget feels the hot red splotches on her cheeks, and then, still just completely and totally mortally embarrassed about it all, gives a hiccupping little gasp of a sob. “Here, let’s uh, let’s go somewhere more—private.”

And then Bridget finds herself being more-or-less dragged to the women’s bathroom. Frankie deposits her in front of the sink, handing her a handful of paper towels while Bridget stares intently at the tile floor and tries to get her breathing under control. She blots ineffectively at her eyes, feeling like a complete and utter lunatic standing there under the harsh fluorescent lighting and completely losing her shit.

“Are you alright Bridget? Wait, no, that was dumb, I mean—look. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“You’re apologizing to me?” Bridget looks up at Frankie, tries to laugh it off, but it mostly comes out as a teary little blub.

“Yeah? I mean, I’m still pretty fucking pissed off, but I didn’t mean to like make you cry or anything. I just—I wanted you to at least acknowledge what you did to me.”

Frankie’s expression darkens for a moment, a shade of that cruel angry glare from before, but then she sighs—resigned—and continues, almost defeated sounding, “I, I wanted to know why.”

God. Bridget really wants to melt into the floor now. Even if she’s never been particularly fond of the girl, Bridget has the self-awareness to acknowledge that what she did was messed up, and it makes her skin feel all itchy. Guilty, she thinks pointedly, that’s all I’m feeling, just guilt, nothing else. And then before Frankie can make her feel any worse the excuses come pouring out of Bridget, another jumbled mess she only half-understands as she’s saying it—just, anything, whatever she can think of to make Frankie stop looking at her like that.

“I’m sorry Frankie. Really, I am. I’ve been acting weird for weeks, Ryan and I are fighting right now, and not that it’s like your fault, you didn’t even know, but I’m still so fucking mad at him, and you—just, when I saw you talking to him—I guess, I went kind of crazy?”

“Kind of?” Frankie chuckles, but it somehow manages to make Bridget feel a little bit less like the scum of the earth, so she’ll take it.

“Okay, fine,” Bridget rolls her eyes, “I went full-on psycho bitch.”

They share a small laugh at Bridget’s expense, and a part of the knot in her throat maybe almost starts to loosen, just a bit.

“I know it’s fucked up to take it out on you. I don’t—I was drunk and stupid and weird and such an asshole, and I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. I’m a fucking mess right now but that’s got nothing to do with you, Frankie. I’m—I’m sorry.”

There’s another silence while a pit opens up in Bridget’s stomach, a yawning cavernous void of anxiety as Frankie gives her this look, like—like she doesn’t really buy it, but then, finally Frankie sighs, nodding, and that deep black pit in Bridget closes up. At least a little.

“Alright. Thank you for explaining Bridget.” There’s a pause as Frankie gives her a wicked sort of smile and then continues, “I will be the bigger person and choose to forgive you.”

And then she laughs, a real honest laugh, deeply amused at her stupid not-quite-a-joke. Bridget rolls her eyes, but it is actually a relief that Frankie’s gone back to being her normal annoying self. Receiving sympathy from the girl is almost worse than being shouted at by the mean angry cruel Frankie from before.

“Oh thanks,” Bridget snarks at her, but in spite of herself, she laughs a little bit too. And then she realizes how they must look, the two of them still standing in front of the sink, face-to-face weirdly close together, Frankie with her arms folded loosely around herself, near enough Bridget almost feels the warmth from her body while Bridget’s a tear-streaked mess, holding onto the wet paper towel and sniffling softly. So, she takes one precise step back and away from Frankie’s bubble, straightening herself, blinking away the remaining tears in her eyes.

“And don’t worry Princess,” Frankie is saying, all smirk now, “I won’t tell anyone about your meltdown. Secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Bridget replies. She’s decided the best course of action is to go back to pretending like none of this happened and she doesn’t have feelings, like Frankie totally didn’t just watch her sobbing in a mall food court, and that she isn’t still holding that snotty crumple of paper towel.

She quickly tosses the offending ball into the trashcan and then goes back over to the sink to wash her hands. As if that would somehow help. God, her face is all puffy now, ugly blotches of red on her cheeks, her nose.

Frankie moves to lean against the back wall, watching Bridget in the mirror and looking far too amused at the entire situation. But at least she doesn’t say anything else; perfectly silent as Bridget tries in vain to fix her mascara.

Maybe, Bridget thinks, she really will be good on her word and won’t tell anyone, and then Bridget can bury this brief horrible moment way deep down inside her with all the other ones. She hopes so, even though she has no right to. It would only be fair, after all, for Frankie to use this newfound upper hand to give Bridget a taste of her own medicine. After all those years of torment Brianna and Bridget put her through? She wouldn’t blame her.

Bridget winces again, guilty just thinking about it. All throughout middle school Bridget and Brianna and Brooklyn did whatever they could to make Frankie’s life miserable for no other reason than she was weird and they could. Hell, they practically tortured the girl, every day for years, and sure Frankie was annoying and stuck up, but still. Looking back on it now, the whole thing just seems so petty and pointless.

“Hey Frankie?” Bridget says with a resigned sigh, meeting Frankie’s eyes in the mirror before looking back down again. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a horrid bitch to you for like, ever.”

“Yeah, you were kind of the worst,” Frankie laughs, and Bridget is about to get defensive again but Frankie’s still talking, all casual and breezy like they’re just having a chat about the weather outside and not the multiple years of bullying (and Bridget can’t even pretend like that wasn’t what it was, not in her own head) that they put her through.

“But that was like forever ago, everyone was a terrible monster when we were twelve. I’ve gotten over it,” she shrugs.

Bridget wants to say “Really?” all incredulous, how could anyone just shrug and be over that, but then she meets Frankie’s eyes in the mirror again, and she looks—maybe not exactly pleased, but definitely not traumatized or anything. Maybe that’s something.

“Thank you for apologizing, dude,” Frankie continues when Bridget doesn’t respond, still staring uselessly down at the counter. “I appreciate it.”

And she sounds like she really means it.

“You’re welcome, I guess?” Bridget replies lamely.

There’s another silence then, the soft drip drip of the faucet the only sound between them, but it’s a tiny bit less awkward now. Maybe we’ve bonded, Bridget thinks sarcastically.

“So maybe let’s get out of the bathroom yeah?” Frankie says, gesturing over her shoulder towards the door.

“Uh yeah, probably.”

Frankie turns around and heads back out to the food court and Bridget, at a loss for what to do, follows her.

“What are your plans for the day?” Frankie is asking as they walk together, looking over at Bridget like she’s actually interested in the answer.

“Uh—” Bridget stops to think about it. Brianna has almost certainly ditched her ass by now, and she won’t be able to get a ride from anyone else for a while. She’s not sure if she really wants to anyway; the mall is cool inside and being here is better than being stuck at home. Even with Frankie it might not be so bad, maybe, the two of them wandering around together.

Bridget’s sure then, that’s she well and truly lost it, suffering from heat stroke or psychosis or something. But she plays it cool.

“Nothing really,” she says with a bit of a shrug, “Brianna was my ride.”

“Oh,” Frankie chuckles again, “whoops!”

“Yeah.”

“Well, come on then,” Frankie says expectantly, waving for Bridget to follow her.

“Uh, what?” Bridget says instead.

“Let’s have an Adventure!”

And then Frankie stops walking, turning back around and giving Bridget this look that gleams, bright, mischievous, and Bridget is definitely not sure she likes that look. But since today is already strange enough as it is, Bridget sighs to herself, shrugging again. Fuck it, why not, she thinks.

It’s not like things between them could get any weirder.

Together they walk around downtown, something that Bridget’s done maybe hundreds of times, but following Frankie is like seeing it all for the first time again. Of course, she knows all these obscure places off the beaten path where tourists don’t usually go. A thrift store, naturally, with one of those weird fortune telling machines out front; a racist caricature in a turban that vaguely predicts something that may or may not be happening to them in the future. An actual photobooth in another random little boutique, a shitty arcade where Frankie wins Bridget a weird stuffed alien toy, record stores and stationery shops, and then they top it all off with vegan ice cream from a quaint local parlor that does strange flavors like black charcoal, or something called Unicorn Vomit. But it’s surprisingly good (even though Bridget sticks with tried and true vanilla, thank-you-very-much) and, in spite of herself, Bridget finds that she’s actually like, having fun?

They talk and they laugh while Bridget is pulled this way and that, clutching her new little alien friend and posing for dumb photos, and she finds that it’s quite an enjoyable afternoon.

With Frankie.

Wonders never cease.

But of course eventually all things must end. It’s getting to be early evening now, and Bridget realizes she was supposed to be home—Jesus, an hour ago. So they make the trek back to the mall, back to where Frankie’s car is safely waiting for them in the parking garage. And of course, Frankie drives a lime green Volkswagen Beetle with white daisy decals on the sides, of fucking course. Frankie drives her home blasting a Beach Boys tape the whole way—because of course her car is old enough to still have a tape deck, and of course Frankie listens to the fucking Beach Boys on cassette—and somewhere along the way Frankie asks Bridget for her number, oh-so-casually, like it barely even matters, and Bridget doesn’t think twice before she gives it to her.

And then suddenly Bridget is home, walking up to her room, ignoring the lecture her mom is currently shouting at her from the kitchen while she holds her phone in her hand, one new message from an as-yet unsaved number blinking up at her: hay gurl hay. And Bridget feels this lightness bubbling up from her, from where the lead weight and the anxiety-pit had been before. Not even her asshole mother can ruin her mood. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Bridget feels—good. More than good. Happy, she realizes.

And isn’t that pathetic? She’s happy from just one afternoon spent hanging out with her former mortal enemy. But Bridget can’t deny that she is. She’s happy, and she had fun, and she decides that she’s just not going to think too hard about why.

3.

The third time Bridget sees Frankie, she can’t actually see her very well at all. They’re at the Garden Arts Cinema, a small local movie theater, and it’s all dark and cool inside. Too dark to see much of anything. Which of course hasn’t stopped Bridget from trying to sneak sideways glances whenever she thinks she can get away with it.

They go to a lot of movies for a reason.

It’s been a few weeks now and Bridge is finding herself enjoying this weird sort of secret friendship they’ve got going on. Frankie has found a way, somehow, to make all the normally annoying things about her magically endearing. She loves telling dumb jokes and she loves to laugh, and her laugh is so infectious that Bridget usually can’t help but start laughing too.

She’s basically stopped talking to Bri and Brooklyn right now. Besides a random “where r u???” text and a couple Instagram messages they haven’t really interacted at all since that fateful day at the mall. It doesn’t seem like Bri misses her company, and Bridget doesn’t really miss her either. She prefers her Adventures with Frankie. With Frankie it’s just so easy, she doesn’t feel like she has to put up a front. She can just let herself exist, for once.

Frankie seems to enjoy her company too. Desperate, she had told Bridget. All her friends out of town, on their own vacations. And Bridget carefully felt nothing at all about it, when Frankie told her that she was essentially her last resort. It doesn’t matter. They’re just having fun together.

Frankie comes and picks her up in her ridiculous little hippie Bug and they hang out wherever she’s decided. Thrift stores—of course Frankie knows all of them—where she’ll try on atrociously tacky clothing just to make Bridget laugh, or they’ll hit up the arcade and compete for the most tickets. And then, of course, movies. Frankie likes Garden Arts because they do a lot of classic cinema and weird indies and every Tuesday tickets are five bucks.

Bridget likes that no one their age ever goes there, and on a sunny Tuesday afternoon even with $5 tickets, the theater’s almost always basically empty. Safe and dark and private. It’s not like Bridget’s ashamed of being seen with Frankie or anything like that. She just—she doesn’t want to deal with the questions she knows people would ask her. And she shouldn’t have to! This is—theirs, their thing. Their secret sort-of-friendship, born of desperation, and that doesn’t have to mean anything.

Frankie doesn’t complain about it, thankfully. Hardly seems to notice at all, really, that Bridget studiously avoids going anywhere somewhere might recognize them, doesn’t let Frankie come inside her house or see her friends. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t want to hang out with Bridge’s horrid Mean Girl clique anyway. Bridget barely wants to hang out with them.

So instead they go to Frankie’s places. Quaint cafes, weird restaurants. Empty movie theaters.

Frankie picked their movie today—they trade off—which means they’re watching a really bad horror movie from probably the 70s. Bridget has never voluntarily seen so many horror movies; it took her literal years before she could make it all the way through a Saw. Just, all that blood? No thank you. But she’s a Good Friend, and so she lets Frankie pick. Frankie has suffered through several bad romcoms for her, so it’s the least she could do. And Frankie’s kind enough not to make fun of her for being startled by the jump scares or hiding behind her during the goriest parts.

Like now, for instance.

“God please tell me when it stops!” Bridget practically squeals, squeezing her eyes shut and clinging to Frankie for dear life.

Frankie chuckles softly under her breath, but she doesn’t say anything.

And maybe Bridget lets herself cling longer that she strictly needs to, head turned into the crook of Frankie’s neck, breathing in the smell of her. Her shampoo—which always smells amazing—and her perfume and just her, her skin, and then Bridget realizes how fucking weird that is and she stiffens, pulling away and rearranging herself back into her seat.

Okay. So, Bridget officially has A Problem.

She’s not quite sure when it started, she didn’t notice when the change happened. When she suddenly stopped thinking of Frankie as the annoying stuck up hipster, or the slightly-less annoying girl she’s kinda casually hanging with, to—well. This. It’s just, sometimes Frankie just looks at her, when Bridget has cracked a particularly amusing joke, or even when they’re just sitting next to each other at a café saying nothing much at all, and it’s enough to make Bridget’s stomach go all…flippy and weird. Or sometimes Bridget will catch herself staring at Frankie and realize she hasn’t really heard anything she’s said for the past couple of minutes. She keeps getting distracted. By Frankie’s lips especially.

It doesn’t help that Frankie’s always wearing something on her lips. Whether it’s sparkly lip gloss or something stranger like black, or one time, memorably, fucking sunflower-yellow lipstick; and it draws attention. Like a bright yellow traffic sign. And it doesn’t help either that Frankie’s got a fucking obsession with candy. Lollipops that she keeps stashed in her purse and pulls out randomly, sucking on them for hours. Or, if not lollipops, then bubblegum; blowing giant ridiculous bubbles and popping them, over and over. And Bridget fucking hates it. It’s like Frankie knows, somehow. Like she’s doing it on purpose just to torment her.

And it definitely, definitely doesn’t help that Bridget still remembers what those lips felt like against hers. She can’t stop remembering it, in perfect painful clarity. It keeps her up at night, that wretched first kiss—and then, even worse, the second. It makes her stomach feel like she’s swallowed hot coals, like she can’t breathe. And it most definitely doesn’t help that Bridget can’t stop fucking wondering what it would feel like to have Frankie’s lips pressed against other places.

Seriously, it’s a fucking problem.

Suddenly there’s a blood-curdling scream from the pretty blond meat on screen and Bridget practically jumps out of her own skin, reaching out for Frankie’s arm again, her heart pounding in a sympathetic rush of adrenaline. And then, Bridget’s heart threatens to pound right on out of her fucking chest when Frankie just reaches over oh-so-casually and tangles their fingers together. Bridget thinks she might actually be having a heart attack right now, her stomach doing somersaults while she tries to remember how to breathe like a normal person.

Frankie doesn’t even look at her, her attention focused on the screen of course, taking a sip of her giant cherry Icee with her other hand, but Bridget can almost swear she sees the faintest hit of a smirk on the other girl’s face, limned in light from the screen.

Those lips. Cherry red today.

Oh no. Wrong thing to be thinking about while they’re fucking holding hands. Oh God oh God oh God—

But then, just as sudden, Frankie pulls her fingers free so she can grab a handful of popcorn from the bucket balanced on Bridget���s lap, and Bridget absolutely hates the way she misses that brief contact.

The rest of the movie passes in a blur. Frankie doesn’t try to hold her hand again and Bridget holds herself stiff as a board in her seat. She’s actually pretty sure that she’s died in fact, and this is her eternal torment in Hell, for being such a shitty person or something. It seems fitting.

“Alright? Movie didn’t scare you too bad, right?” Frankie is asking her as they stand in the lobby, just a hint of playful mockery in her voice.

“What? Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m—fine,” Bridget replies absently. She’s just a bit distracted at the moment. Why is my hand tingling right now?

“Ha ha okay. Come on, let’s get you home before midnight, Princess,” Frankie laughs, and Bridget especially hates the stupid flip her stomach does every time Frankie calls her that stupid nickname.

They head out together into the late afternoon summer heat, and before Bridget even realizes what she’s doing, she’s reaching down and grabbing Frankie’s hand again. Fuck. Frankie doesn’t say anything about it, hardly seems to notice, really. She just walks hand-in-hand with Bridget, laughing about something dumb that supposedly happened during the movie.

Meanwhile, Bridget is basically on the verge of a goddamn meltdown, the warmth of Frankie’s hand in hers making her heart go all stupid again. She thinks it’s probably a little weird (and definitely incredibly stupid) to be walking hand-in-hand with another girl when they’re seventeen years old—a gay girl no less—and it’s probably even weirder that she’s so fucking freaked out about it. Bridget wants to let go but she also kind of doesn’t, and she’s totally way overthinking holding hands with someone, this is officially insane—and, and Frankie’s laughing again at some joke Bridget missed.

Inside Frankie’s car they sit and wait—it’s old enough the AC takes a while to kick in—and it’s quiet except for Frankie’s favorite Beach Boys tape. The poppy fun music is completely at odds with how Bridget is currently feeling, too distracted by the rapid beatbeatbeat of her own heart to make casual conversation.

“Bridget,” Frankie says suddenly, entirely too serious.

“Yeah?” Bridget turns to meet Frankie’s eyes for the first time in, God, hours.

She’s caught in Frankie’s deep brown gaze, those eyes practically magnified by the ridiculous glasses she wears, surrounded by thick dark lashes, and Bridget’s throat goes dry. She swallows. There’s a beat as she hangs suspended for a moment in that tension, and then, because Bridget has evidently gone completely and totally one hundred percent absolutely nuts, she leans in towards Frankie and then—

Then, before Bridget quite realizes it’s happening, Frankie leans in too, over the center console; close, too close, and then—and then—

Then Frankie is suddenly fucking kissing her.

It’s just a quick little peck, barely anything at all really, but it still somehow feels like lightning sparking down Bridget’s spine; and then just as fast Frankie is pulling back with a wicked little smirk.

“There. Now we’re even,” she giggles.

Oh for fuck’s sake—Bridget feels like she’s gonna vomit up her own fucking heart. That’s it. A girl can only be reasonably expected to take so much torment. So she grabs Frankie by the shoulders and pulls her in close and then kisses her for real, goddamnit.

Apparently her memory is a liar, because this kiss feels nothing like the other ones did. Those hazy nightmare-dream kisses that still fucking haunt her. No, this one is way better. Maybe it’s because she isn’t drunk off her ass and miserable this time, but God, this is. Right. She feels the crushing weight of her heart hammering away in her chest, and she thinks she might actually explode with it as Frankie leans in and kiss her back, and it’s all just so different-new-thrilling-exciting-terrifying—and Bridget knows she’s definitely dead now, because she’s actually pretty sure she’s stopped breathing. Her grip on Frankie’s shoulders is white-knuckled, and she doesn’t stop until her lungs burn.

When they finally part for air Bridget can’t help but notice the way Frankie’s gone all breathless, and that does something absolutely stupid to Bridget’s heart.

“Finally,” Frankie says, relieved, giddy, some other emotion Bridget doesn’t have a name for.

“What?” Bridget blinks at her, lips tingling as she sits there stunned stupid, feeling like a moron.

“Honestly, I’ve been waiting for like a week now for you to get over whatever your deal is and kiss me already, but you’re a pretty stubborn lady, you know?”

“You—you knew?”

Oh, wow Bridge, not even gonna try and deny it, huh?

“Uh yeah?” Frankie says like it’s obvious. “I mean, I hate to tell you this sweetie,” and there goes Bridget’s heart again, “but you haven’t exactly been. Uh. Subtle.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come on Bridge, I’m not blind. I can see you staring at me when you think I don’t notice. You blush. Either I’ve got a second head growing out of my neck I haven’t noticed that you’re too embarrassed to tell me about, or you’re into me.”

“What—I—” Bridget sighs. She really can’t pretend not to know what Frankie’s talking about, not when her stomach feels like it’s flipped all the way inside out and her heart won’t stop fucking beating, and all she can think is I wanna kiss her again. It’s hopeless.

Bridget wants to grab Frankie again and kiss her silly, and it terrifies her.

“Sorry,” Bridget mumbles, a supremely weird mix of embarrassed and horny.

“You don’t have to apologize, Bridge. I was trying to take things slow, give you space. Didn’t wanna freak you out. I thought—”

“What?”

“It’s silly.”

Bridget gives her a look.

“Well, okay, but I thought if I flirted enough, you’d get the hint? But goddamn you are oblivious, or maybe I’m worse at flirting than I thought—”

“You were—were flirting with me?!” Bridget blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Oh. Okay, so I guess I am worse at that than I thought.”

And is it just Bridget’s imagination, or does Frankie sound embarrassed?

“No! Shut up that’s not what—I, I’m sorry. I just—why?”

And now Frankie’s staring at Bridge like she’s the one with the second head.

“Uh, because I like you too?” Frankie says, as though Bridget had asked her what color the sky was. “Okay, just so we’re clear here, I uh, I really kinda like you Bridget? And I’m pretty sure you like me too, I mean—”

Frankie waves vaguely to the space between them while Bridget feels her face heat all over.

“And uh,” Frankie stops, swallowing. Holy shit, she’s nervous. Finally, it isn’t just Bridget freaking out by herself. “I dunno, maybe you wanna go out sometime?”

And then Frankie’s round freckle-dotted cheeks go absolutely bright pink, and Bridget is definitely in trouble, because it’s the cutest fucking thing she’s ever seen. She’s sure now. She’s died, and maybe she’s not in hell, but this is clearly some weird afterlife-fantasy scenario. There is no way this is really actually happening.

Bridget stares at Frankie for a minute, lost for words.

Frankie, with her neon-pink-orange bob and her blunt bangs that make her look a bit like a comic book character, with her thick black cat-eye glasses and her delicate features, her softly almond-shaped eyes so dark, dark enough to get lost in; with her elegant pale throat and the black choker wrapped around it, and the voice that comes out of it, the one Bridget can’t stop dreaming about.

Frankie, who is a complete and total weirdo and so deeply, genuinely sincere about it. Bridget can’t believe she used to think it was some kind of act. She knows better now of course, knows that it’s impossible for Frankie to be anything other than herself. This goofy sweet silly smiling pixie, who is just so fucking beautiful that it makes Bridget’s heart ache.

Frankie, who for some unfathomable reason, actually likes Bridget too.

Why? What could Frankie possibly see in her?

In Bridget, the never-quite-as-pretty one, the boring one, the side-kick-in-her-own-damn-life one. She honestly has no idea why Frankie would like her, why anyone would, for that matter. But maybe—maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe, she could—maybe, just maybe—

Why not, Bridget thinks. She might not understand it, but she wants to believe Frankie, believe that another person, this person, could know her and still want to be around her, be with her. So, she pulls Frankie close and tries to tell her with a kiss, since she can’t say the words.

Yes yes yes I wanna go out I like you so much I wanna be your girlfriend please like me too please oh God please don’t stop kissing me, never stop—

“So, is that a yes?” Frankie says, all sweet and innocent, once they’ve parted again.

Bridget rolls her eyes. She’s the worst, Bridget thinks, but then, God I’m totally into it aren’t I?

“Ugh. Fine. Yes.”

Her stomach, miraculously, does not manage to come up her throat with the words, as much as it threatens to.

“Good,” Frankie laughs, the sound making Bridget’s stomach flip back over, and then she kisses her again.

That night Bridget goes to bed with a heart full of glitter, all her nerve endings spark-fizzing with joy while warmth blooms down deep in the pit of her stomach. She swears she can almost still feel the pressure of Frankie’s lips against hers, the slick wet heat of their mouths pressed together, the taste of Frankie’s cherry-flavored lip gloss.

God, Bridget thinks, lying in bed and staring at her phone, the text message from a still-unsaved number (several sparkly heart emojis and a ridiculous kissy face) that makes her feel like she’s flying as she runs a finger over her screen. God, I am in so much fucking trouble.

4.

The fourth time she sees Frankie, Bridget’s sprawled out on a picnic blanket watching her, watching as Frankie dances to the music they’re playing off her phone, watches her twirling and singing along enthusiastically and generally being a complete and total dork. Just to make Bridget laugh.

This is their Fifth Official Date (not that Bridget’s been counting or anything); an almost disgustingly adorable picnic in the park. Frankie has brought an honest-to-God picnic basket and everything. There is iced tea and sandwiches carefully cut out with a heart-shaped cookie cutter, because of course there is.

Frankie just does shit like that. It’s absolutely ridiculous and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care if someone might make fun of her or call it stupid, she takes Bridget on cheesy-romantic dates and sends her “good morning babe,” and “sweet dreams hon,” texts every single day and makes her actual mixtapes and heart-shaped goddamn sandwiches, and it all drives Bridget absolutely crazy. It makes her heart feel like it’s about to explode into confetti.

Today is a beautiful almost-breezy late afternoon and they’ve managed to find a nice shady spot under some trees and down a steep hill that’s relatively private. No one’s around to bother them for playing their music too loud, and even better, there’s no prying eyes to judge her when Bridget decides she can’t take it anymore and pulls Frankie down on top of her.

Frankie giggles like crazy—which always makes Bridget’s stomach feel like she’s swallowed a bunch of butterflies—as she tumbles into an awkward heap on top of Bridget’s lap and into her waiting warms, laughing and squirming as Bridge assaults her with kisses wherever she can reach.

It’s pretty fucking incredible that she can just do that, now.

So far they’re trying to keep it casual. Well, as casual as Frankie can be. Bridget is quickly discovering that Frankie has a hard time being casual about anything she feels—if the mixtapes and picnics are any indication—but, it’s casual enough. Taking it slow. It’s—it’s not like Bridget’s ashamed or anything. She just hasn’t told anyone yet.

And it’s not like she has to, anyway. It’s no one’s business but their own. Just the two of them. This little world they’ve created, these little stolen moments. With Frankie everything else just disappears for a while and Bridget doesn’t have to worry so much about everything. She doesn’t have to care what people would think, what they would say; she doesn’t have to care about anything but this girl.

This impossible wonderful ridiculous girl with pink-orange hair and strawberry lip gloss, who makes Bridget heart-shaped sandwiches and makes her head spin. This thing, so precious and pure. Is it so wrong that she wants to protect it as long as she can?

She hopes Frankie understands. They haven’t exactly discussed it, but Bridget thinks that she does.

“Hey you,” Frankie says, still sprawled on her lap, arms resting casually around Bridget’s shoulders, hands tangled in her hair. Rubbing idly at the back of her neck. That feels nice.

“Hey yourself,” Bridget replies, with a giant ridiculous grin on her face, looking up at Frankie and the plastic pickles that are dangling from her ears. Because of course, Frankie has a pair of earrings shaped like plastic pickles.

God I’m just absolutely stupid for her, aren’t I?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Frankie asks her.

Bridge shrugs. “It—it’s nothing. You. This, I like this.”

She waves a hand between them.

“Hmm, me too.” Another casual kiss to Bridget’s cheek, and Frankie smiles, that smile that just lights up every single corner of Bridget’s stupid idiot heart.

Casual, she warns herself. Easy. Nice and light. She’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. To keep the rest of the world away from them.

5.

The fifth time Bridget sees Frankie is the worst, because they’re fighting. It seems like they’re always fighting these days. They’ve been whatever they are for over a month now, and Frankie’s frustrated. Clearly. Tired of keeping it a secret, of hiding. And Bridget knows that, she hates making Frankie feel like she’s ashamed of her, of what they have together.

But.

She just—

Brianna has started noticing things. They’re talking again, and she’s asking questions. Questions Bridget doesn’t—can’t answer. Doesn’t have the words to even begin answering them. And Ryan too—Christ they’re still technically dating, aren’t they? They made up before he left, and now he’s still texting her, even away at football camp, and she texts him back and it makes her feel—

Rotten.

Even her parents have almost caught them twice, and she can’t keep—she can’t keep doing this.

Bridget is scared. She’s panicking, she knows it, and she can’t stop. Can’t stop the anxiety that bubbles up whenever she’s not with Frankie. And lately, even when she is with her. Like now for instance. They’re at their spot, their safe private spot in the park but Bridget swore she saw someone from school walk by and now she’s totally freaking out. This is way too much, way more than she asked for.

It’s just—it’s, it’s too good.

So, Bridget pushes. Pushes Frankie away, and of course Frankie’s so stubborn she just pushes right back, and lately all they do is yell at each other, and—

And it just sucks so fucking much. Bridget knows that she picks fights with Frankie on purpose, some part of her just knows that Frankie’s way too good for her, so she’s decided to burn it all down before Frankie has a chance to get sick of her, to hurt her first. And Bridget hates herself so fucking much for it, for doing this, but somehow, she just can’t stop.

Coward, she thinks bitterly, as Frankie storms off, and Bridget immediately regrets it. The words she said still echo like a firework, like gunshots—why are you so fucking clingy all the time—and Bridget wants to call her back, to apologize. To beg and plead and make promises she can’t actually keep, to do whatever it takes just to see that smile back on her lovely Frankie’s face.

But she can’t.

Coward.

So the next time Frankie texts her to apologize, Bridget doesn’t respond. Through all the time they’ve been hanging out, she’s never once ignored a text from Frankie, but she just. Can’t. So she doesn’t.

And when Frankie texts again, worried, asking if she’s okay, Bridget just deletes the message, heart sunk like a stone deep in the black void of her stomach.

Bridget keeps deleting them, feeling her heart crack open a little more with each new notification, each new message more and more worried. And then the worried messages turn to angry messages, and it’s what she deserves, so Bridget doesn’t delete those. She reads every single one and lets them pierce through her empty cavernous chest, the ruined crater of her heart, all the while thinking coward, thinking monster, thinking—no knowing that she’s the worst person who ever lived.

And then finally, horribly, the texts just stop coming altogether.

Bridget pretends like she isn’t dying inside, looking down at that last message from Frankie: okay fine fuck you too you fucking bitch. It makes Bridget feel like she’s swallowed broken glass, seeing those words there. But she can’t fix it. This is what I deserve.

Instead she goes back to Ryan, back from camp now looking all boyish charm and tan and big muscly arms, and it’s just easy, so easy to flirt and to bat her eyelashes and let him woo her again; and she goes back to Brianna and Brooklyn, and they don’t ask questions.

And the worst part of it all really, is that Bridget can’t tell anyone about it. No one even knows. The whole wretched summer is locked away in some alternate universe and she can’t say a single goddamn word. And then, even worse: the one person who could possibly comfort her in a situation like this, the one person who had so quickly become her biggest emotional support, so vital to her, is the exact fucking person she can’t turn to, because Bridget is a fucking monster who has ruined everything good in her life.

So, she pushes it all back down, way deep down into the pit of her, to rot with the rest of her emotions. Bridget had been well-practiced in the art of bottling shit up way before she had ever met Frankie, and she can do it again. She can smile and laugh and be pretty and perfect and popular. With her handsome wonderful boyfriend and her two best friends. All of it just so fucking perfect.

But no, that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part comes a week later, at the tail end of summer, when she gets home from Brianna’s house one evening to find her parents waiting for her in the kitchen, her laptop open on the table and a small box she’d somehow forgotten about sitting next to it. Bridget recognizes that box instantly, and it feels like a bullet straight to her heart. She stops dead in her tracks, voice caught in her throat.

That box. Random empty packaging from a birthday present, kept hidden under her bed. Secret, safe. And after—after everything, she’d simply forgotten all about it, forgot to throw it away. The things inside aren’t that important; photobooth strips and a couple silly little arcade prizes, the mix tapes, cute notes folded into origami hearts—but then, not quite so meaningless: the ring. It hadn’t been anything like, crazy, just, they’d been them for a couple weeks, and Bridget had spotted this pretty rose gold ring in one of their favorite thrift stores. It was a small, delicate thing, shaped like a wreathe of intricate little leaves. No stone, but elegant and dainty and nothing like Bridget had ever owned. So Frankie had surprised her with it the next time they went out. And absurdly, Bridget had almost wanted to cry when Frankie gave it to her.

She never wore it, of course—that felt like too much of something—but even just keeping it near her, in her little vault of treasures, it was—

Ryan had never bought her jewelry before.

Seeing that box now, on the table, it feels like Bridget’s entire chest has been sliced open, every awful weeping oozing thing she’s been trying to keep bottled up leaking out all over their pristine tile floor. She feels—flayed. Raw. She wants, bizarrely, to laugh almost; and then suddenly, she wants to cry, and the rush of emotions makes her feel dizzy.

They know.

“Bridget,” her father says, his voice so cold hard angry that it gives Bridget goose bumps. They. Know. “Your mother and I found some—concerning messages on your phone last night, on your computer, and we’d just like to talk to you.”

They know oh God they know how did they—

It’s all come tumbling down, crashing in on her, crushing her under the weight of it. Catching her breathless and she can’t—Bridget can’t—she—so she does the only thing she can think to do. She lies.

When it’s all said and done, her parents know all about poor Bridget and her Psycho Lesbian Stalker. She pours it all out of her, exactly what they want to hear. How she’s just so sorry she didn’t tell them, how she was so scared—because Frankie scared her—they were just friends, Bridget was being nice because she pitied her until Frankie got all crazy and delusional and obsessed with her and Bridget couldn’t tell them, she wanted to so bad of course, but she couldn’t, she was just so embarrassed about it all.

There’s threats of a restraining order; a tense meeting between her parents and Frankie’s parents and lawyers (it’s almost ironic, Bridget thinks, that this is how she finally meets Frankie’s family), and when it’s all said and done, Frankie promises to stay away from Bridget at school, promises not to try and contact her again so they don’t have to involve the authorities in this ugly business. Frankie will leave Bridget alone and no one else has to know.

And the whole time, Bridget can’t look anyone in the eye. She decides then, sitting in that horrible office watching Frankie caved in on herself, defeated, that she is done feeling things for good.

She doesn’t tell Ryan or Brianna anything about it. She couldn’t do that to Frankie. Not that. Of course it doesn’t matter, it couldn’t possibly make up for the colossal mountain of horrible things Bridget has already done to Frankie, but still. She doesn’t want to talk about it anyway.

And then about four days later Bridget finally breaks up with Ryan for good. Sick of him, sick of being near him and pretending. She’s sick of seeing the way Brianna looks at him, like she’s mentally inserting herself where Bridget’s standing next to him. And of course, they’ve barely finished typing their goodbye texts—amicable enough—when Brianna is suddenly calling her, utterly, utterly heartbroken but wanting to know if Bridget minds, maybe, if she asks Ryan out. Apparently, she had just dumped Matt, her so-called True Love, the day before.

Bridget honestly does not fucking care anymore. She feels emphatically nothing about it, about either of them. Fine. Let Brianna have him. Bridget honestly can’t even remember why she wanted him so badly in the first place, except because Brianna did too. Whatever. She hopes they get married and have a bunch of perfect fucking children and grow old together and die.

She lets it go. All of it, she keeps on Not Feeling Things all the way until school starts. Right until the night before, when she wakes up suddenly, startled by a nightmare, her heart aching with fear and guilt. Bridget reaches out—still half-asleep—like somehow Frankie would be there, would be beside her telling her that it’s alright and to go back to sleep. But all Bridget feels is the empty sheets instead.

And then, Bridget is done pretending she doesn’t feel things. All at once it all bursts out of her, all the regret and shame and guilt and anger and wretched awful heartbreak pining, all the gross ugly tears she’s been keeping locked up for way longer than this summer. All of that pain finally pouring out, spilling out all over her, and Bridget just hopes she doesn’t sob too loudly.

Thankfully no one wakes up or comes to check on her, and that’s almost worse, somehow. Bridget curls up into a ball on her floor, and that’s when she notices the a small forgotten plushie under her bed. She recognizes it instantly. Herman the Alien. The very first thing Frankie had given her, before, before everything, before they’d even—it was that very first time they hung out together, at the arcade. He’d somehow come out of the box and managed to escape the Great Purge.

Bridget looks at him through the tears streaming down her face, his giant black eyes and tiny little smile, and this stupid green alien plushie just breaks something inside her, another wall come crumbling down. So, fully aware how completely and totally pathetic she must look, Bridget crawls over and pulls him out, cuddles him close. Wishing it could somehow bring her comfort, that it could somehow bring Frankie back.

Stupidly, Bridget wishes that she could go back in time and undo the entire awful summer, that she could fix this, and she’s not entirely sure which part she wants to change. She hardly understands anything anymore, really, except that she misses Frankie, right down to her marrow, and she hates it so much.

Most of all, Bridget wishes that she was a different person, a better person. Somehow who could have deserved something as sweet and as good as what she had with Frankie. She wishes that she hadn’t been such a colossal idiot, a coward about it, and that she hadn’t thrown it all away.

But it’s useless. Bridget is not a better person. She’s known that all along, of course. This is what she deserves. She is a horrible monster who fucked everything up, and she can’t ever fix it. So instead, she holds a dumb stuffed alien and she cries and cries and cries.

It doesn’t help.

6.

The first day of school, Bridget walks up to Green Valley with her head held high. There are rumors swirling around, but there always are, and Bridget is too used to pretending she doesn’t hear them. Everyone knows about the Ryan-Brianna situation by now of course, and the looks of pity people shoot her would normally drive her nuts, but Bridget doesn’t feel anything anymore, so she hardly notices them. She finds Brianna waiting at their normal spot, her and Ryan standing close together like they had been made for each other in a lab somewhere, his paws draped all over her. Obnoxious. And the rest of their friends stand there too, all of them talking and laughing and just so fucking perfect.

Bridget can’t help but notice that Matt is conspicuously absent, however. She doesn’t blame him.

Of course, her and Brianna and Brooklyn have all their classes together. They’d set up their schedules at the end of last year, before the summer, before—everything. It had seemed natural, logical, at the time. The three of them always had all their classes together. Now though, Bridget walks into first period wishing she could join the witness protection program and move to another country where no one speaks English.

Their first period is Chemistry—which is already torture enough, honestly—and she comes in and sits at their usual spot, back corner, forever Brianna’s right hand woman. The two of them talk like they don’t secretly hate each other’s guts, performing for their audience.

And so of course in first period Chemistry with Bridget’s blood near boiling, simmering rage and everything carefully hidden underneath, all bottled up but almost leaking out of her, that’s when—

God. She walks in.

Frankie. In one of her fanciest tea-length floral-print vintage skirts, all perfect poofy petticoat and hair freshly dyed a bright aqua-teal color; bangs straight, eyeliner sharp. Looking for all the world like a woman on a mission. Determined. Proud. Bridget’s heart aches.

She watches Frankie’s eyes scanning the room, looking for something, and then—she sees Bridget staring at her and her mouth drops open in a small, startled “oh.” Almost like, like she’d forgotten, somehow. Bridget feels what remains of her heart shatter into impossibly tinier pieces, feels like she’s about to vomit up every single wretched shard right there on the table and so—

So, Bridget looks away, and she pretends she doesn’t see her.