#we need some g.d. cheer

[zmediaoutlet]

omg your tags, now I can't stop picturing Sam waking Dean up with his mouth, what have you done (!!)

It’s cold—really goddamn cold. First things Sam notices whenhe wakes up, in order: how fucking incredibly cold it is; that he’s lost theblanket, sometime during the night; he’s got a morning woody crushed in againstthe mattress and it feels, ah, good; Dean’s gone.

He opens his eyes. Dean. His brain struggles to come online,fifteen rail lines speeding forward at once. In the muddle he claps himself inthe face too hard, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes—ow—and struggles toturn over, the mattress creaking under him. Dean, where—oh. There. A lump, onthe far side of the bed, a king bed, oh—right, they got a king bed, somewherein Texas—Lubbock—and Dean had grinned defiance at the hairsprayed old lady atthe front desk, and slapped Sam’s ass before they left the lobby—mortifying,but Sam had secretly enjoyed how lemon-bite-pursed her wrinkly old mouth got—andoh, damn, it is really cold, jesus. Winter in Texas shouldn’t be this cold, andhe puts together only slowly, trains struggling to leave the station, that theheater under the window must be broken, and fucking Dean stole all the covers,and Sam’s left here in his boxers with his skin goosepimpling in the frigidair, and he rubs his face again, wanting coffee, Miami, a massage. That order.How likely is he to get any of it.

He gets up and pees instead, the tiny bathroom equally coldand the seat freezing his ass when he sits down. He pushes his hard-on down,angles so he won’t piss all over the floor. Splash of water on his face, after,and a gulp of cold water from the tap, and he’s more awake, but colder, and hecrosses the thin carpet and climbs onto the bed and tugs at the blanket,unrolling Dean from his burrito. “Ngh,” Dean says, somewhere under there, butSam doesn’t give a shit. It’s cold, and the whole point of a king is to shareand they didn’t even screw last night, and Sam’s going to—get—ah, there, and hefolds himself under the unfurled sheet and beige fuzzy-fleece and crappypolyester duvet and, more importantly, a body’s worth of warm, giving skin, andDean shivers when Sam spoons up behind him but he can just deal, Sam’s the onewith the icicle toes, here.

God, it’s comfortable. He drags his chin against Dean’sshoulder, stubble scraping, smells him. Warm, unwashed body, and salt, and adistant waft of cologne there at the back of his neck. Sam touches his belly,soft, and drifts for a moment. The blanket makes everything better. Still. He’sawake, kinda. Probably won’t sleep again—that’s not how his body works anymore—andhe really ought to start the day. Find their next hunt. Get moving.

His dick’s shoved against Dean’s thigh, swelling, content.He shifts his hips, an easy press. Mm. He licks his lips, brushes his noseagainst the back of Dean’s head. There’s that, too. He slides his hand toDean’s hip, squeezes, and Dean doesn’t move, snoozing on. Sam flexes his ass,pressing forward—yeah. Okay. Maybe the day doesn’t have to start right away.The hunt’ll still be there, if he finds it an hour from now.

He dips beneath the blanket. Too cold to do anything else.Warm, warm, and he presses kisses along the pretty familiar curve of Dean’sback, his hip. Sleeping naked, the degenerate, and Sam runs his teeth along theswell of his ass, his nose brushing soft skin. A cave, down here. Smells—god,Dean, just like Dean, and he pushes at his hip and he tips, turns, sleepymurmur barely audible through the muffling blankets. Sam grips his ass in bothhands, squeezes. Mm. He’s got a completely inexplicable spatter of freckles here,and Sam can’t see them in the murky dim under the covers but he knows exactlywhere they are, and he kisses a patch of skin—salt, his tongue finding itunerring. Smooth, and Dean’s thighs mostly smooth too when Sam runs restlesshands down them, and then up, his thumbs dragging up the soft insides. He huffsout a breath, kneels up. The blankets come with him, light peeking through upnear Dean’s shoulders, but he’s not awake, at least as far as Sam can tell. It’smaking his balls throb, his dick heavy and aching. Fun to play with Dean—didn’tknow how much more fun it’d be, when he was dead to the world, and Sam’s brainwrites in yard-high letters across the inside of his eyes he’s asleep,and fuck, why is that so hot.

He reaches down and holds his dick through the muffle of hisboxers, scooches down further, on his knees at the foot of the bed. Dean’s legslazily open, and Sam slides up, kisses his asscheek, urges one thigh open—higher—anda sigh, somewhere, but then there’s the gold, his balls plump and plush againstthe mattress, his ass open. Sam’s mouth waters. He keeps one hand under Dean’sknee, keeping him open, and leans in—ah, and talk about smell, jesus, thebody-warm here, and salt and funk, and he kisses at the top of thecrack, and licks there too, the knob of bone hard under his tongue. Barely-hairyhere, too, Sam’s brother, delicate as always—just the finest layer of goldenfuzz that goes velvety so fast under Sam’s tongue, and he crouches and nuzzlesin and licks lower, lower, skin-taste thick in his jaws, saliva pumping up.Fuck—and then there, home, and finally—real hair, crinkly and matting down fast,and the rough patch of his asshole, and the sourness of Sam’s morning breath matchinga long night of sleep, and Dean’s thigh twitches then, and there’s a mumble,somewhere up above the blankets where it doesn’t matter. Sam licks again, flatand sloppy, spit flooding. Jesus, it’s good, nasty and sleepy-warm, and withhis free hand he pries Dean’s asscheek aside and then just really goes to work,licking deep and steady, mouth open, breathing trapped in all this—the wrinkleof it under his tongue, and the plush give. “What,” he hears, somewhere, and hehumps his hips into the bed and drags his thumb over Dean’s balls, spitssloppy, wet running down his taint to where Sam’s petting him, and he pushes upand gets his thumb—in—inside, fucking in where it’s so tight, that familiar ground,and Dean moans and his legs spread wide and he’s awake, yeah, fuck, he’s awakeand Sam fucks his thumb in and out, licking there and making it wet enough tomake it good, sloppy, and then Dean farts on his face.

Ripe—jesus—Sam coughs, says, “What the fuck,” shoving up onone hand, and Dean’s—laughing, the asshole, the absolute—“are you kidding,”Sam says, god, the taste is in the back of his throat, what the—

Dean’s shoulders are shaking as he clutches the pillow, his faceburied down. “Holy shit,” he gets out, shaky, “but dude, you’re the one—”

“You fucker,” Sam says, rearing back, the blankets fallingdown around his hips. Dean’s still laughing, one hand clapped over the top ofhis own head, and—even as Sam licks the back of his own wrist to get the tasteout—there’s Dean’s crack, wet, and his thighs still spread wide, and Sam’s dickisn’t—soft, at all, by any means.

Dean turns his head over his shoulder, grinning. His eyes areall bleary. “That’s what you get,” he says, and yawns, and Sam looks at himwith the corner of his mouth crusted with drool and his back freckled andsmooth and his asshole soft, and he shrugs, and spits into his hand, and wetshis dick where it’s popping out of the front of his boxers, and leans in andpresses—ah, there. There. Dean blinks, surprised, mouth gone into an o, and Samsays, “Okay?” Soft, and asking, but not really asking, because Dean nods—of courseDean nods—and Sam lets his weight drop in and Dean opens around him, reluctant,the drag not really smooth at all on just spit but ah, fuckin a, good and tightand just, just what Sam needed. Screw a massage.

He bottoms out, pubes crushed in against Dean’s wet ass.Dean pulls his thigh higher, lifts his hips. “Goddamn, early bird,” he says,thin, and Sam leans forward over his shoulder and kisses him. Sticky, his lipschapped, both of them sour-mouthed. He tilts his pelvis, feels Dean’s assholeripple. Grips his hip, slides up to his ribs. When their mouths part Dean lickshis lips, blinks at him. “You just kissed me with fart-mouth,” he says.

“And whose fault is that,” Sam says. Dean raises hiseyebrows, and Sam watches his face change when he pulls his hips back, andsinks back in again. God. Talk about warm. “Good?”

“Not saying,” Dean says, like that’s not an answer. Hiseyelids flutter, and he gathers the pillow under his head. “Mm. ‘s cold. Pull upthe blankets, bitch.”

Sam reaches down, does. “Yeah, maybe if you hadn’t hogged ‘em,”he says, and fucks in again, lazy, slow. He pulls the covers up to his own shoulders,and leans back and spits between them, where the root of his dick’s breaking Deanopen. He slides his thumb around, wetting the slide as he pulls out, back in.Dean’s ears are bright red in the dawnlight. “This is all on you, you know.”

“Yeah?” Dean says, and slips a hand back under the cover ofthe blankets to haul Sam’s hip in tighter. Fuck, fuck. Sam braces his knees outsideof Dean’s, arches his back. If he could get deeper—but Dean seems to think it’senough, by the whole-body shiver. Jesus. This body. Home, if Sam ever needed one.Dean licks his bottom lip, slants a look back at Sam. “Tell me later, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, grinning down at him, and braces a handagainst the headboard. Later.

[squishyeth]

cam girl [g.d] au

SUMMARY: Y/n is the shy girl. Grayson Dolan is the most popular boy. What happens when Grayson finds out that the cam girl he’s been chatting with is the  girl that he sees everyday.

WARNING: sexual content (masturbation-male, p&v penetration, fingering), graphic language

NOTES: italics are flashbacks

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

*I DO NOT OWN ANY GIFS*

“You’re so sexy, Mistress.” Sexyboi69 moaned out as he was stroking his length. I continued to dance seductively.

“Are you going to cum?” I said, biting my lips and shaking my ass a little. With that, I see the white liquid spurt out and his loud moan fills the room.

“That was my best orgasm yet.” Sexyboi69 complimented as he cleaned his hand with a towel.

“Same time as tomorrow?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Of course” he replied, with a thumbs up. I can’t see his face, but from the sound of his voice, he’s probably smiling; smirking even. The call ended and my phone dinged. I lifted up my cat mask to see it was from venmo.

‘Sexyboi69 paid KittyMistress $300 for a good time ;)’

CURRENT DAY

Y/N’s POV

I sat in the back of English, doodling as the teacher rambles on about her personal life that no one seems to care about. When I begin shading in the kitty’s ears, the bell rings. 

“Don’t forget to read chapter 13 and be ready to discuss it tomorrow!” Mrs. Allen said as everybody was packing up their bags and leaving. I put my sketchbook away and beginning zipping up my backpack. I got up and made my way out of the class. I saw Grayson holding the door open because he was a little bit in front of me.

“Thank you” I said quietly and as I walked away, I heard a faint you’re welcome. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush on him. Hell, everybody does. Grayson and Ethan Dolan are the most popular boys in this shit hole of a school. They have every girl swooning over them. I just particularly like Grayson more. I’ve had a crush on Grayson since 7th grade. He has just never noticed me because we don’t come from the same “clique.”

LATER THAT DAY

I put on my cat mask I got from a Halloween store a few months back. That’s when I became a cam girl. I do it for the money because my family struggles with paying bills. They don’t know that I’m on an adult site or else they will lose it. All my parents know is that I babysit some kid who lives down the street. I post free videos on the site, but I charge for personal videos or a skype session. My most popular client is Sexyboi69. He only shows his crotch area, but I don’t mind because I never show my face. Speaking of, my skype went off and Sexyboi69 showed up on the laptop screen. I hit accept.

“Hey” I innocently said, sitting crossed leg on my bed.

“HI, Mistress.” He said, waving to the camera.

“How are you?” I asked, biting my lip. 

“Eh, school stresses me out nothing new” He replied, “Just need a release” He finished, stroking his hard on. It turned me on, but I don’t touch myself on camera. I save that for my alone time. 

“And that’s where I come in!” I replied, with a giggle; standing up.

“Would you consider taking off the mask just this once?” He asked. I froze in place and before I could react, I slammed the laptop shut.

‘Sexyboi69 paid KittyMistress $500 I’m sorry :(’

THE NEXT DAY

I sat in my usual spot, in the back. I don’t have many friends. That’s a lie, I have no friends. 

“Quiet down!” The teacher said loudly, snapping her fingers like we’re dogs. 

“Okay, I’m going to explain the final project for Taming of the Shrew and it’s a partnered project” she explained and everyone cheered, except me, I internally groaned. “Except I’m picking the partners.” She finished to which now made everybody groaned. I’m eh on this; at least I don’t have to do the picking. She started pairing the class until she got to me and the one person I did not want to work with is

“Grayson, you’ll be partnered with Y/n.” She said 

‘Fuck’ I mouthed, keeping my eyes glued to my sketchbook.

“Man, I wanted the smart one.” One guy shouted, which resulted in the class to laugh. Great, just because I’m quiet, everybody thinks I’m Einstein. Everybody scatters around to their respective work partner and I stay seated; he’s going to have to come to me because I am not getting up.

“Hey” I hear a male voice say. I look up to see it’s Grayson.

“Hi” I quietly reply. He seats in the desk in front of me.

“Did you draw this?” He asked, pointing at the cat girl. I nodded.

“It’s really good, I like it!” He replied, smiling.

“Thanks” I mumbled with a small smile.

“So about the project” he stated, “We could go to my house, but my parents don’t trust me enough to bring someone over so do you have anywhere we could go to work together?” he asked. 

“My parent’s don’t come home until like 8 so we could work at my house?” I suggested quietly, trying not to make a lot of eye contact.

“That will work! Do you drive?” He asked, I shook my head “bus” I stated.

“Not today.” He replied with a smile.

LATER THAT DAY

We pulled up my driveway and Grayson turns the car off and we both get out and walk across the dead grass.

“Your house is, nice” he hesitated to say. If old and torn down is nice then thanks I guess. I know he’s just trying to make small talk, but no talk would be better. I unlocked the front door and walked in, locking the door once Grayson was in. 

“My room is the first door on the right,” I explained “Do you want some water?” I asked

“Yes please” He replied with a smile and made his way down the hall. I went into the kitchen and grabbed the ice trays from the freezer. After I filled two cups with ice water, I made my way to my room. When I entered my room, I saw Grayson sitting on my bed, holding my cat mask with furrowed eyebrows. I panicked and dropped the cups. He jerked his head to me, still holding the mask.

“Um, can I see that mask?” I asked, ignoring the cold water I’m standing in.

“Yeah, sorry” He said, handing it to me “Do you need help cleaning this up?” He asked, pointing to the water puddle.

“Uh no it’s fine” I stuttered “I’ll get more water though.” I said while turning around leaving a clueless Grayson standing at my door.

‘I really hope he doesn’t know who KittyMistress is’ I thought to myself. He’s a teen boy with hormones. I shouldn’t have let him go in my room by himself. I don’t even want to know what people would if they find out about the person behind the mask of KittyMistress. I am so stupid.

MOMENTS LATER

After I cleaned up the mess, we got started on the project. Scratch that, I started the project. This always happens so I’m not mad. It may hurt a little more because this is my crush and he’s paying no attention to me. My phone vibrated from my lap. It’s skype.

‘I really am sorry about yesterday :(’ Sexyboi69 texted. I look up to see Grayson is busy texting.

‘It’s fine’ I texted

‘I won’t be able to video chat. School stuff.’ He texted back

‘That’s fine! :) I have a school project coming up so I probably won’t be available for the next couple of days�� I hit send before placing my phone back in my lap. I got back to writing a summary, but I felt a pair of eyes on me.

THE NEXT DAY 

Mrs. Allen let us work on the project in class. Of course, Grayson was talking to his friends across the classroom. The bell rang and I have never been happier. My stuff was already packed so I put my backpack on and briskly walked out of the classroom with my English notebook clutched in my arms. As I’m walking to my next class, my phone vibrates,

‘Hey :)’ Sexyboi69 texted. What? Why now?

‘Hello?’ I sent, entering my biology class. Grayson also has this class with me, but I sit in the front and he sits in the back.

‘Why ?’ He sent back, I felt a pair of eyes burning the back of my head so I turned around, but saw no one, I turned back around.

GRAYSON’s POV

I’m overthinking it. Y/n is not KittyMistress. KittyMistress is confident and wild and y/n is quiet and clumsy. She’s a cute clumsy though. I look up to see y/n turning her head around so I put my head back down and pretend I’m texting. It’s not like I have a crush on her or anything. I have a thing for KittyMistress. Well, it’s one sided; I really want to know the face of the sexy body I see everyday. The face under the same exact mask y/n owns. Then again anybody can own that mask; I’ve seen that exact mask at a Halloween store. There it’s settled; y/n is not KittyMIstress.

LATER THAT DAY

I’m back at y/n’s house and she’s working on the project. I should really start helping. When I open my mouth, I hear the front door and a woman’s voice,

“Y/n! Are you home?” The woman yelled.

“Shit” y/n whispered. The woman opened door when y/n stood up and we made eye contact.

“Oh. Who’s this handsome young man?” She asked, smiling. 

“Um, Grayson” y/n stuttered out, “We’re working on an English project together.” She finished, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. The woman, who I’m guessing is her mom asks me,

“Oh yay! Grayson, we would love to have to stay for dinner!” She exclaimed as if her daughter doesn’t bring home friends. She has friends, right? I looked over at y/n who was chewing at her bottom lip, nervously.

“I would love to” I replied, smiling. Her mother seems nice.

“Yay!” She exclaimed, while clapping “Your father should be home early, but dinner should be ready soon!” She said before closing the door behind her and leaving us alone.

“Your mom is nice.” I said, smiling which resulted in y/n groaning.

AN HOUR LATER

We were all seated at the tiny table. I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten with my family, but this feels nice.

“So Grayson” y/n’s dad started off “How did you meet my daughter?” He asked, dabbing his face with a napkin.

“We’ve had the classes since middle school, sir, but we got partnered up this year on a final project.” I explained, he nodded and drank his water. I can see from the corner of my eye that y/n is blushing. She’s so cute.

“You know,” y/n’s mom says while covering her mouth to swallow “She’s always talking about how cute this Gra-” she continues, but is interrupted by y/n coughing.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Her mother asks with concern and rubs her back. Y/n just nods and drinks some water.

“Oh what was I saying?” She says

“Honey, we probably shouldn’t overwhelm him with questions.” Her husband said with a chuckle. 

“You’re right” She sighed “I just got excited because our daughter never brings guests home” She finished.

“I have to use the restroom” y/n said and ran down the hall. 

MOMENTS LATER

“I’m sorry ab-” I started, but was cut off by y/n,

“It’s fine, just leave it alone” she muttered, writing a summary for the project; I nodded. I was being nosy and started to look around. I had a deja vu moment when,

“You looking for something?” y/n sassed, I was taken aback and just shook my head. 

Y/N’s POV

I don’t know what has gotten into me or where this wave of confidence came, but I kind of like it. Grayson actually helped on the project for once; it might of just been gluing the pages on the poster, at least he was quiet. After about half an hour of walking, Grayson announces,

“I better go home.” Right as he said that, lightening strikes and we both get an alert on our phones that read,

‘FLASH FLOOD WARNING THIS AREA TIL 11:30PM EST. AVOID FLOOD AREAS. CHECK THE LOCAL MEDIA.’

I looked out my window and just my luck, the streets looked like a lake.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I mumbled, he agreed.

“Do you have a guest room?” He asked, turning his head toward me.

“No, but you can take my bed” I offered, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” I said, getting up to get the extra blankets out of my closet. I told my mom I would never need to use them, but I can hear her in my head saying ‘I told you so!’

“No, it’s you’re ro-” He said, but I cut him off by placing my finger on his mouth, “No, you’re the guest and I swear to god if you fight me on this, I will make you swim home I don’t care.” I ranted. Jesus Christ, who let KittyMistress out? Where did this confidence come from?

"Who is this and why doesn’t she come out at school?” He joked, but there was some seriousness in it. I rolled my eyes playfully and continued to grab the blankets. If I’m sleeping on the floor, I’m going to make it as comfortable as possible.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom” I explained, “Try not to be nosy while I’m gone.” I joked and he saluted, making me giggle as I walk out of the room. After I change into a tank top and pajama shorts, I exit the bathroom and make my way towards my room. When I open the door, I see Grayson carefully running his fingers through my lingerie hanging up. You have got to be kidding me. Out of all things I have?

“What are you doing?!” I yell.

GRAYSON’s POV

I notice something lacy in the closet. Y/n’s words replay in my head, but I feel myself being drawn towards the closet. I can’t imagine y/n in something lacy or tight fitting even. I’m sure she has a nice body under all those hoodies she wears. As I approach the open closet, I see that it’s lingerie. My eyes have definitely popped out of my head. I can’t imagine y/n in stuff like this. I hear a jingle sound and see that there’s a collar with a bell on it.

‘Where have I seen this before?’ I think to myself with furrowed brows. My thoughts were interrupted by y/n,

“What are you doing?!” She yells. I’m just standing there; it can’t be her. She just rolls her eyes and snatches the lacy material out of my hands and walks away. Before my mouth can catch up with my brain I speak out,

“Mistress.” She stops dead in her tracks. Gotcha.

“What did you just say?” She asked, facing away from me.

“I had a feeling when I first came over, but I thought the mask was just a coincidence.” I explained, walking towards her; her breathing is now ragged,

“And then the texting” I whispered by her ear. She’s shivering at this point.

“Sexyboi69?” She whispered, dropping the items on the ground. I nodded with a smirk. I’ve been waiting for this moment. My fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. With her back still facing me, I slowly put my hand down her shorts and cup her pussy. Before I can feel her insides, the door knob starts to jiggle. I pull my hand out and she steps away from me.

“Hey, how are you guys?” Her mom says as she sticks her head in.

“Yeah, I was just making myself a bed on the floor” she explains, pointing to the makeshift bed. She nods while smiling and closes the door.

“The bed is big enough for the both of us” I said, smirking.

“Don’t you start with that” She jokingly replied with her finger pointing at me. I move towards her slowly and grip her wrist softly.

“I swear to god if you don’t stop looking at me like, I am going to cum in my pants.” I say as she blushes and replies,

“What look?” Like she doesn’t know. The innocent look that has every guy preying on her. It’s like my mouth has a mind of its own and next thing I knew, my lips were on hers. She was taken aback at first, but then relaxed under my touch. Our lips moved in sync and I find my hands wandering all over her body. 

“Are you sure you want to do this with a virgin?” She asks as I leave sloppy kisses on the base of her neck.

“There is nothing sexier than a virgin.” I replied and meant it. She seems to have a burst of confidence because she tossed me on the bed and straddled me. Her confidence never fails to turn me on. I pull down her tank top so that her breasts are spilling out. I begin to knead them and suck on them as her back arches and lets out a moan. 

“You are so fucking hot” I state, making my way back to her lips. My hand slides down her shorts and rubbing her clit before pumping finger in her. She moans in my ear which turns me on even more if it’s even possible at this point. Her hand is bunching up my shirt as I add another finger. 

“So tight.” I compliment and rewarded with a moan. I rub her clit with my thumb and I see her eyes roll so she must be close. Just as suspected, I feel a sticky substance coating my fingers and y/n collapses beside me.

“How was that?” I asked, laying next to her.

“What about your problem?” She asked, eyeing my very painful boner.

“As much as I would love those pretty lips around my cock, I need to be inside that pretty pussy.” I said, getting on top of her. She gasps and blushes at my words. My lips meets hers and she begins to undo my belt. 

“Why in a hurry?” I said, smirking and holding her hands down in the bed. She surprises me by flipping us over. Goddamn how is she so strong. 

“Because I’m in charge and you will address me as Mistress.” She stated, pinning my hands down.

"What are you going to do to me, Mistress?” I asked, lifting my head up from the bed. She smirks and rubs my hard cock through my jeans. I hiss and say,

“If you do that again, I am going to have a wet spot on my jeans.” She just continues to rub my dick before unbuckling my belt and sliding off my jeans, leaving me in my boxers and shirt. She gets off of me and then walks over to her drawer and digs around and pulls out what looks like a box of condoms.

“If you’re a virgin then why do you have a box of condoms?” I genuinely asked.

“What do you think?” She sarcastically replied. Her mom. I played it off with a laugh when she opened the new box and pulled out a condom. She walks over and hands it to me. I look at her confused.

“I don’t know how to put one on.” She shyly says, which makes me smile.

“Here” I say, taking the condom from her hand and taking it out of the package. I pull down my boxers and I see y/n’s eyes go wide from the side.

“Come here” I whispered, holding out my hand; which she takes and I put her back on my lap. “Give me your hands” I continued, guiding her hands on the condom to slide it down my dick.

“Is this going to fit?” She whispers

“We’ll see” I reply, flipping us so she’s beneath me, “Let me know if it’s hurt” I say and she nods. I slowly begin to push myself and see a tear run down her cheek. Y/n grabs the back of my head and begins kissing me, which is my queue to go deeper. When I’m balls deep in her, we both let out a throaty moan. 

“Please go faster” She whimpers in my neck.

“Your wish is my command” I whisper in her ear and begin thrusting at a faster pace. Her moans sounds pornographic as the sound of rain and my balls slapping fill the room. I reach my hand down to her clit and rub it in a circular motion. She starts shaking and I feel myself starting to climax. Before I knew it, I’m seeing stars and my load fills the condom. I stay in her warmth for a little longer before laying next to her and discarding the condom.

“How was that?” I asked, out of breath and facing her. She replies, still out of breath, but with a goofy smile,

“Better than porn.”

[savannahxdolan]

The Devil’s Deal// G.D. [Part Two]*

Summary: (Y/n) has to prove to Mr. Cortez that she’s able to handle herself in real life situations. Which sends her to New Jersey to assasinate a local boy.

Warnings: Gang violence, death, murder, drugs, (Eventual) smut, angst, alcohol consumption, fluff, suicidal mentions.

(Y/n) had woken up this morning bright and early readying herself to show how much of a badass she is to her father.

When she walked in all of the boys cat called her. Saying, “Woah I’d tap that ass” or even, “How about after I kick your ass fighting, we can wrestle around in the bed for awhile”. (Y/n) just rolled her eyes and concentrated on making it through the first three stages. The first stage was easy, list the five rules with being a Black Dragon.

(Y/n) stood there in the middle of the room as everyone watched her. Mr. Cortez sat on his throne back in the far corner, watching steadily waiting for his daughter to speak. He knew she would get through the first stage because he taught her the five rules her entire life. “Come on (Y/n) we don’t have all day,” Mr. Cortez sighed glancing at his watch that read 10:39am.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes (Y/n) began to speak. “With becoming a Black Dragon there is a list of rules everyone must follow. The first rule is, we are all a family we must stay loyal to one another. Never go behind anyones back. The second rule is to never leave anyone behind. No matter what. The third rule is no dating any other members,” (Y/n) took a deep breath and continued,” The fourth rule is to always be on time to any meeting. The last rule is never leave the Black Dragons or you will be executed on the spot.” She smiled and playfully bowed at her father. Everyone around gave a chuckle. (Y/n) could see it now, her dressed in the uniform fighting by her father’s side. She would do anything for him.

“I knew you had that one in you (Y/n). Now let’s continue onto stage two.” Mr. Cortez grinned and sat back in his seat knowing she was going to have trouble. The second stage was to fight the biggest member in the room. Last year when (Y/n) watched the biggest person in the room was Jonny a 6ft guy who’s arms were bigger than her head. But Jonny died while transporting drugs over to California.

(Y/n) turned and looked around to see who the possibilities were. All she could come up with was Rawnie the newest girl who was recruited about a year ago. She’s pretty bad ass and (Y/n) knew she would have a rough time with that one. “So who am I fighting Papa,” she questioned, cracking her knuckles one by one. Hearing a loud pop each time. Mr. Cortez chuckled and stood up walking over to the middle of the somber room. He snapped his fingers and handed his jacket to Susie the maid.

“You’ll be fighting me and it’s boss to you young lady.” Everyone around then gasped. No one has ever had to fight Mr. Cortez during the ceremonies. (Y/n) herself was confused and worried at the same time. She knew how good a fighter her father was. No one ever lasted past a minute with him. But she knew why he was doing this. He didn’t want her to win. He wanted to humiliate her in front of everyone so, that she would quit asking to join. (Y/n) needed to win this. Not just to prove him wrong but for herself.

“Okay lets go then,” (Y/n) exclaimed getting into her fighting position. Bending her knees slightly and holding up her fists. Cliff recited the rules; no biting, hair pulling, blah blah blah. (Y/n) pulled her hair back just as the bell rang indicating the fight started. During the fight, each fighter had to either pin the other one down or knock them out. That was the only way the fight would end.

Immediately Mr.Cortez swung at (Y/n), who ducked and grabbed his arm swinging forward and flipping him onto the hard stone floor behind her. Retaliating quickly, he grabbed her ankle and pulled it making her fall down with him. Both of them began to wrestle and throwing punches at one another. Mr.Cortez climbed on top of (Y/n) and wrapped his hands around her throat squeezing enough to make it hard to breath. She continued to struggle getting the giant man off of her. Her air was running low and she began to feel light headed, occasionally seeing black dots appear.

Just then an idea popped inside her head. The back of her father’s hips were sensitive and she remembered before when she accidentally threw a ball and it made him drop to the ground. Mr. Cortez didn’t trap (Y/n)’s legs so she took the chance and lifted her butt off of the ground. Taking her left leg and repeatedly kicking her heal into his side until he let go. Mr. Cortez yelped in pain and immediately backed off which gave (Y/n) the advantage. She tackled her father to the ground and placed her foot at his neck applying the same amount of pressure he did to her. They both stared into each others eyes not wanting to give up just yet. Mr. Cortez could feel the burning of his throat as air began to not come through anymore. When finally, he took his hand and tapped three times on to the ground signaling he’s done.

The crowd erupted into cheers at someone finally beat him, let alone his own daughter. (Y/n) didn’t know how to feel. Of course she was relieved and beyond happy for winning. But she felt a great amount of guilt for hurting her father, the only man she’s ever loved.

“Are you okay Papa? I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she spoke watching her father catch his breath. Cliff brung him his jacket accompanied by a glass of water. Taking gulps and then finishing the glass within seconds. “You didn’t hurt me. In fact you made me proud. You showed me that you can stand your ground no matter who it is,” Mr. Cortez exclaimed bringing (Y/n) into a hug and ruffling her hair. She laughed and gave a hug back.

“I swear I never seen such a better fight in my life!” Cliff patted her back in congrats to winning. (Y/n) gave a shy smile and then walked back to where she was before. She knew that she still hadn’t been completely done yet. There was still stage three. Which was the hardest of them all. Her father had to give her a specific mission depicting on what position he seen her best in.

“So (Y/n) since you clearly passed the fighting stage that only means one thing. I’m sending you on a mission in New Jersey. Follow me back into my office and I will give you more details,” he said as him and Cliff walked out of the room. “As for the rest of you, get back to work!” Everyone dispersed and went their separate ways.

(Y/n) followed her father down the long hallway. Taking in the pictures on the wall. They were mostly family portraits of when they were a complete family. No updated pictures have been taken since. Suddenly they stop at a large brown door. A black sign is on it with white lettering saying ‘Mr. Cortez Office’. Cliff opened the door moving out of the way to let both of them in. Closing it behind him with a thud.

Taking a seat at his desk Mr. Cortez pulled out a tan folder with the name ‘Mission 0’ on it. He opened it and laid out various photos of a boy. He was tall and muscular. Had brown hair and honey brown eyes to match. He was handsome to say the least.

“This is Grayson Dolan. The boy you are ordered to assasinate. He is seventeen years old and lives in New Jersey with his brother Ethan. You’re mission is to get close to Grayson and then assasinate him.” (Y/n) grew nervous and shifted in her seat. She’s never killed someone before let alone a fly. She was anticipating on being one of his drivers that takes the drugs places and makes deals.

“Why am I killing him,” she questioned itching her head and taking a closer look at the photos. There was one specific that caught her eye. It was of him and his brother at a beach behind a surfboard. Making it look like they were naked. She giggled to herself and looked back up at her father.

“You don’t need a reason to kill him. I simply chose someone random. It’s your mission and that’s simple,” Mr. Cortez asserted and flipping the page. Growing uneasy (Y/n) looked over at Cliff who just shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t exactly do anything either.

“You will go live with your Aunt Claire and Uncle Harry. You will go to West Morris Central Highschool. The rest you will make up on your own. You will keep in contact with us every night and keep us updated with how you’re going. You have until the end of May. Which gives you the whole entire school year,” he said closing the folder and putting it away into a drawer. (Y/n) nodded along and gave her father a smile. No matter if she killed someone or not. She will do anything for her father. Like she said before, him before anyone.

“When do I leave Papa,” she asked getting up from her seat and pushing in the leather chair. Mr. Cortez got up and began walking her out the door. Before closing the door he stated, “Tonight.”

***

After seven long, tiring hours on a plane (Y/n) finally arrived in New Jersey. As she stepped off the plane she looked around and took in the scenery. A beautiful big blue sky with not a single cloud. Trees filled the distance along with some buildings but not much. It was hot outside but not hot enough to not wear a hoodie.

Taking in a deep breath she walked towards the cab that was taking her to her aunts house. Mr. Cortez didn’t want her to stay inside a hotel by herself and it also wouldn’t make her role believable. So here she was driving another hour to her aunt that she didn’t really know. Getting inside the car, (Y/n) slid on her headphones and blocked out the world. Falling asleep soundly.

“Excuse me Miss, we’re here,” the driver spoke shaking (Y/n) awake slightly who jumped frightened. She yanked out her headphones and looked at him confused. “What?” She looked around and seen that they were in a complete different place. He could’ve kidnapped her for all she knew. “We’re at your destination,” the cab driver spoke more sternly, clearly annoyed with the young girl.

(Y/n) unbuckled her seatbelt and mumbled a sorry as she gave the man money for the drive. Walking to the back of the trunk she grabbed her two suit cases. Looking up at the White House she felt uneasy. Her mansion was obviously bigger. This house was like an average house, almost like the one she grew up in as a child.

This was her mother’s sister. Mrs. Cortez grew up in New Jersey with the rest of her family until, she left to California for college. Which was were she met (Y/n)’s father. She doesn’t know much of how they met because each time she’s asked he’s brushed it off and ignored her.

Suddenly the door swung open and there stood a small women who looked just like her mother. Except the women had short curly black m hair instead of long straight black hair. “Oh my gosh,” the women exclaimed excitedly, grabbing (Y/n) into a bone crushing hug. Not knowing what to do (Y/n) just stood there uncomfortable.

“Harry! Come quick! (Y/n)’s here!” Footsteps were heard off in the distance and in stepped a tall man. He had no hair but he did had a goatee that was brown and gray. He was was average sized and muscular.

As her Aunt Claire let go, (Y/n) was engulfed into another one by her Uncle Harry. “Gosh kid! You’ve gotten so big,” He boastfully said pulling away and ruffling her hair. She always thought that when family member did that it was annoying. Like I’m seventeen not four. Anyways (Y/n) gave them both an awkward smile not really knowing what to say.

“We were so excited when your father gave us a call saying you wanted to come up here for school!” Aunt Claire grabbed (Y/n)’s arm guiding her through the house into the living room. They all sat down and stared at one another. “You look just like your mother yaknow,” Uncle Harry commented, looking over the young girl sitting on his coach.

To say (Y/n) felt uncomfortable was an understatement. She was awkward and had anxiety. She grinned to herself though as she thought of being and actual teenager for once. She would be able to go to a real highschool and make real friends. She could even go to an ice cream store and order ice cream by herself!

“We already have you enrolled into school. You start tomorrow” Aunt Claire grinned at (Y/n).

“Well make yourself at home! Your bedroom is upstairs, the first room on the left. If you need anything I’ll be in the kitchen cooking dinner.” And with that (Y/n) stood up and carried her things to her room. After walking up the stairs and almost killing herself by tripping over her foot she stood in front of her new room. Opening it and worrying that she wouldn’t like the desing (Y/n) gasped.

The room had black and grey zigzag wallpaper covering the wall. A bed with a canopy was set up in the middle of the room while, next to it was a dresser with a mirror hanging above it. She loved it already and couldn’t wait to make the room more hers. Setting her bag down onto the bed she began putting her belongings away. She put her clothes in the dresser drawers while she hung her hoodies and coat in her closet.

Walking over to the dresser she noticed a picture frame that held a picture of (Y/n)’s mother and father on their wedding day. Her mom had a gorgeous white dress that was form fitting with sleeves decorated with flowers and glitter. Mrs. Cortez’s hair was pinned back and curled with light make up on. She looked beautiful. Her father looked young. With his hair gelled back smoothly accompanied by a sharp black tuxedo. Which was nothing new because Mr. Cortez always wore suits. No matter what the occasion was.

Tears began to well up in (Y/n)’s eyes as she thought of the family they used to be. She missed her mother every single day. Often thinking about how she’ll never have that mother and daughter bond. Never being able to have those inspirational talks where her mother would open up about mistakes she’s made in her life. Or even teaching (Y/n) about women hood. Wiping away the tears roughly she decided to take a shower. Jet lag had definitely made her tired.

She grabbed a pair of sweats with a long sleeve shirt and went out to look for the bathroom. Finding it right next to her room. Shutting the door behind her (Y/n) shedded her clothes from her body and turned on the shower feeling it warm up immediately. Sighing and letting the water run down her back and soaking through her hair. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo that smelled of lavender and began applying it to her hair. Taking her small hands and massaging it from her roots to the end of her hair.

Not hearing the door opening (Y/n) began washing her body. Looking up and seeing a shadow through the curtain she let out a scream. Peeking her head out from the side of the curtain seeing a girl staring back at her.

“Who are you,” (Y/n) ferrowed her eyebrows while, making sure her body was fully covered. The girl seemed shocked and not expecting it to be (Y/n) in the shower. “Hi uhm,I’m Kelsey your cousin. I thought you were my mom. I’m sorry,” she apologized closing the cabinet underneath the sink.

Knocks where heard on the door. “(Y/n)? Are you okay,” Aunt Claire asked just as Kelsey opened the door. “Yeah she’s fine. I scared her.”

“Okay well both of you hurry up. Dinners done. I made chicken Alfredo,” she beamed closing the door. “This is gonna be a long year,” (Y/n) signed finishing up the rest of her shower.

***

“This is so good Mom,” Kelsey said with food in her mouth. Uncle Harry coughed mumbling a ‘close your mouth’ to her. Aunt Claire on the other hand gave her a smile indicating her thanks.

“This was your mother’s favorite (Y/n).” Looking up at her aunt, (Y/n) shook her head. She remembered on a lot of occasions where she would come home from violin lessons to the smell of her mother’s cooking. A bittersweet memory.

“So this is Aunt Lacy’s daughter,” Kelsey spoke adverting everyone’s attention to her. (Y/n) nodded her head with Aunt Claire. “Yup. I remember when you two were three years old on Christmas. You both had gotten into Grandma Sherry’s paint and painted eachother green from head to to!” She laughed bringing up yet another memory. What is it with everyone talking about her mother?

“So how does it feel,” Kelsey questioned shoving more food inside her mouth.

“Kelsey Lane!”

(Y/n) coughed and took a sip of water. “No it’s okay Aunt Claire-” (Y/n) reassured, “It’s hard sometimes. Knowing that I’ll never have that close relationship and stuff. But I’ve gotten used to it. I’m just blessed to still have my dad.”

Aunt Claire and Uncle Harry gave her a sympathetic look. “Can I be excused please? I need to get some sleep for school tomorrow.” Without an answer (Y/n) got up from the table and left to her room. Closing the door she dropped down and cried. She shouldn’t have ever taken the mission. She should’ve just let her father be right. (Y/n) grabbed her phone off of her bed and dialed her father.

“Hello?”

“Hi Papa, it’s (Y/n),” she spoke through the phone trying to hide her scratching voice from crying minutes before.

“How���s everything going so far? You settled in?” There was noise in the background making it hard to hear him. “Yeah it’s going good. I’m getting ready to go to bed right now. I have school tomorrow.”

“Alright well get some sleep you have a long year in front of you.” And with that he hung up. (Y/n) got up off the floor and climbing into bed. Falling asleep.

***

Vibrating was felt on the bed. Waking (Y/n) up from her slumber. Last night she laid awake twisting and turning until she finally could sleep. Which wasn’t until 3.

Getting up and groaning (Y/n) went to the bathroom. Grabbing her toothbrush and applying toothpaste she start brushing. At the same time brushing her hair and applying makeup. If she learned one thing from watching her father, it was how to multitask. She spat the residue into the sink and went to go get dressed.

“(Y/n) are you awake?” Kelsey opened the door completely ready for school. (Y/n) stood there still figuring out what to wear. “Yeah I’m awake. Just trying to find what to wear.”

Kelsey clapped her hands and squealed. “Let me help you! I love fashion,” grinning she went to the dresser grabbing a pair of ripped jeans and a striped cropped shirt. Handing the clothes to (Y/n) and turning back around to get jewelry. “So I thought today we could ride with my friends to school. If that’s okay with you?”

If they were anything like Kelsey, no. It’s only been a day and she already annoying. “Sure. What’s their names,” (Y/n) asked grabbing the diamond studs from Kelsey and putting them in.

“Grayson and Ethan.” The door bell rang and Kelsey perked up grabbing (Y/n)’s hand,” That must be them let’s go.”

@episkygrant @graydolan12

[heywritersblock]

trust: g.d

grayson’s best friend has a bit of a problem and i think we might know a guy who can lend a hand (wink wink)

“so you need someone who you trust AND who knows what he’s doing in bed?” grayson concludes.

“so you see my problem!”

you feel him smirk and then, “i bet i could make you come.”

now complete! ~8000 words

exasperated and with more force than absolutely necessary, you throw yourself down onto the couch at the side of grayson, huffing when he doesn’t move his leg from the seat you’ve landed on quick enough. grimacing over dramatically, you both manoeuvre with very little grace to free his leg and to get yourself comfortable. gray takes one look at your face from over the top of his phone, sits up a little straighter and tosses his phone onto the coffee table to give you his full attention.

“what’s up, mama?” he says after a minute of pointedly staring at you in silence, waiting for you to spill.

“nothin’,” you mumble, purposely avoiding his gaze.

he prods your thigh with one of his socked toes as a non verbal way of saying yeah right.

he notices your body language of arms folded over your chest, legs propped on the coffee table but not fully relaxed; not like his best friend at all.

“y/n, spill. c’mon.”

you huff again, tilting your body further towards the arm of the couch grayson isn’t leaning on to try and escape the interrogation. ethan relaxes at the side of on a huge beanbag that’s been added to the living room recently, munching the popcorn you prepared earlier and waiting for the movie marathon to begin.

“y/n,” grayson repeats again, with more force this time.

“for fucks sake, are we watchin’ this movie or not?” ethan says from the beanbag, missing his mouth with the popcorn as he does. he makes an effort to look for the rogue pieces that didn’t quite make it in, then shrugs when he doesn’t immediately see them. he shoves another handful of the treat in his mouth as he keeps his gaze on the two best friends since high school who are sitting on the couch.

you turn away from ethan, finally looking at gray’s unamused face for the first time since you sat down. “exactly, gray. put the fucking movie on. E’s nearly eaten all of the popcorn with all of your dawdling,” you say.

“nah, no movie’s going on ‘til you tell me what crawled up your ass,” he retorts.

“excuse me?” you ask, body still turned away from grayson. you catch ethan wince at your tone combined with how quick your head turned to glare at his brother.

he sits up further so he’s looking directly at you, shoving the remote down the back of the couch cushion he’s sat on when he sees you trying to reach for it. “somethin’s clearly got you pissed so spill! i’m not watchin’ a movie with you with you while you’ve got your bitch face on so come on, out with it,” he encourages.

ethan rolls his eyes and empties the last of the popcorn into his mouth while he waits. he knows how stubborn you are – about as stubborn as his brother – and he’s worried this stand off could take a while.

he’s about to pull his phone out to post a snap about you both when you sigh, pull your legs up from the coffee table and fold them under you and mumble, “fuckin’ jenna,” so quietly you’re unsure if gray heard you. luckily, he did.

“ok, now we’re getting somewhere!” he replies. “what’d she do?”

you turn your body to face him more now and he moves his legs out of the way so you can get comfortable. you still don’t quite meet his eyes but he knows he’s almost cracked you.

“she can just be such a bitch sometimes. always makin’ people feel bad about themselves. she really pisses me off, y’know?” you start to open up, glancing up at your best friend to glimpse his reaction.

“she made you feel bad? she is a bitch!” he agrees immediately with genuine annoyance spread across his features at the thought of someone upsetting you. you smile; he’s always got your back even if he doesn’t know the full story. “what’s she makin’ you feel bad about?”

“so, she’s tellin’ us all about her new boyfriend and how well he treats her and how she’s so lucky to have found someone just like him and it’s like – first of all, no one asked, jenna, and secondly, you’ve been dating him for two weeks – maybe three at the most – so like, keep your opinions to yourself until you know him better, y’know?” you begin. gray nods his head to show he’s listening.

you glance around to see E’s busying himself playing a pretty loud game on his phone while he waits for you two to sort this out before he can watch the movie. you turn back to grayson to continue your story.

“so we’re all nodding politely and giving it the whole wow, jenna, we’re so pleased for you – you deserve a good guy when like, no jenna; you cheated on your last boyfriend with your sister’s crush so no, you probably don’t deserve a good guy but whatever, that’s besides the point,” you rant.

grayson can’t help the soft smile that’s spread across his face as he listens to you. the corner of his smile tugs upwards as he sees ethan’s head lift upwards from the corner of his vision and look towards you both at the story you’re only just starting.

“so that’s bad enough, right? by this point i’m practically chugging these mocktails back and praying for some sort of miracle that’ll drop the drinking age to 18 immediately so i can make it through the rest of this fuckin’ nightmare of a brunch without losing it.”

grayson huffs out a laugh at that, then shoves his unstyled hair that’s falling onto his forehead back as you keep going.

“and then gray - and this is what really pissed me off – she starts telling us all oh god you guys, and let me tell you about him in the bedroom. like, jenna! there’s nothing in the whole fuckin’ world that i want to hear less about than your sex life so keep it to yourself, y’know? but obviously she carries on. seriously you guys, find yourself a guy that makes you come three times in five minutes.”

ethan’s head’s popped up fully now, clearly engaged in what he’s just heard and about to interject before grayson shakes his head at him.

“what happened then?” he asks. he can tell you’re getting to the part that’s really upset you because you’re gesticulating a lot more now, voice getting louder and really spitting the venom into your story.

“so, me being me and feeling like i’d do anything possible to end this freakin’ story as quickly as i can, i raise my glass and say ha! must be nice! then cheers everyone. cool, story’s over, right?”

“right?”

“wrong – she turns and looks right at me and says oh, poor baby in this fucking condescending voice with this look of pity on her face and i swear to god, gray if i hadn’t already downed it, my drink would’ve been all over her,” you hiss.

“great self control, bub. ‘m proud of you,” he mumbles.

“so then the next forty-five minutes of this fuckin’ brunch was everyone giving me the sad face that i’ve never orgasmed when i’m having sex with a guy. like, is that weird?” you ask openly.

you look directly at grayson and note his carefully composed face, then whip your head around to look at ethan who’s not keeping his face in check quite as well as his brother. E looks as though he’s been put on pause with his head held halfway up from his phone like he was just about to look at you but he’s suddenly stopped in his tracks. “well?” you ask him. “do you think it’s weird, E?”

“ummm - well – i think – i…” he stutters looking up at you from his beanbag.

you raise your eyebrow at him to prompt him to finish and he frantically looks at his brother.

“you got this, gray?” he asks, quickly standing up from the beanbag when gray smirks at how uncomfortable his brother is and nodding his head.

“ok, i’m so not used to these conversations. i’ll just leave you to it. shout when you’re ready for the movie. fuck, being best friends with a girl is hard, bro,” he says, and then makes a run for it.

you turn back to gray, still waiting for your answer. you sigh, “i’m gonna take your lack of an answer as yes, y/n, it’s fuckin’ weird you giant freak.”

“hey, hey, hey, hold on. no jumpin’ to conclusions. i’ve gotta get my thoughts in order,” he soothes.

you hide your head in your hands; you’re still pissed that jenna’s got you questioning yourself like this and it’s also a pretty embarrassing conversation to be having with your hot best friend of almost eight years.

“so, can i ask you a couple of questions before i tell you that is absolutely not weird so stop freaking out?”

your hands are still covering your face so when he hears a muffled reply and a nod of your head, he continues. “so i’m assuming from what you said earlier that you’ve come when you’re alone, yeah?”

you groan with embarrassment instead of replying and fling your head back to rest on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling, questioning exactly why you thought this would be a good idea.

grayson’s not having any of it though. “hey, stop it. it’s only me – you don’t have to be embarrassed. everyone does it, it’s natural. so, you’re good when you’re alone?”

he waits for you to close your eyes and then nod your head minutely.

“ok then. that settles it,” he says.

you wait for him to continue but when nothing else comes from his mouth, you roll your head that’s still resting on the back of the couch to face him with a quizzical look on your face.

“settles what?” you ask.

“that it’s absolutely not weird that you’ve never come during sex with a guy. it’s clearly not you - you’re just pickin’ guys that haven’t got a fuckin’ clue what they’re doing,” he says with a grin and a shrug.

a loud laugh escapes you at his honesty, already feeling a little better after your best friend’s wise words.

“ok, so how do i know i’m picking someone who does know what they’re doing then? do i need to ask for reviews before i go on a date with them? i’m literally wasting weeks of my life with them and then i find out that they’re shitty in bed.” you whine.  

“hey, a review system sounds like a dope dating app idea,” he says, bursting into laughter as he dodges the pillow that you’ve thrown at him.

“if this really bothers you, have you thought about maybe skipping out on the dating part? can you not find someone just to hook up with? get the job done, y’know? then you can get this stupid idea that you’re weird out of your mind,” he explains.

“it doesn’t work for me like that,” you sigh. “i dunno, sex is a big deal for me. it’s like, the closest and most intimate you can be with a person. the idea of being like that with a stranger? it just doesn’t do it for me.”

“no, no. i totally respect that. so you need someone who you trust AND who knows what he’s doing,” he concludes.

“so you see my problem!” you laugh. you pick at a thread on your shorts and then look up at him and see he’s staring at you, eyes focused in thought.

he sees you glancing at him and he smiles, hiding a small laugh and picks up the cushion you threw at him earlier to cuddle. he’s still not breaking eye contact. 

his laugh seems to be infectious as you giggle, “what? what’s so funny?”

he shakes his head and then he smirks, “i bet i could make you come.”

he seems surprised that he’s actually said it out loud judging from the slight flush that blooms on his cheeks but he shrugs, fishing the remote control out from the back of the cushion he’s sat on.

you gape at him, eyes wide as a laugh huffs out of you. you’re speechless – for once – which is a fact that isn’t lost on grayson who’s still got that sinful smirk smudged across his mouth.

he spins the remote in his hand so it’s the right way up and points it at the TV that they’ve got shoved in the corner of the room, setting up the movie as confident and cool as anything.

you’re still looking directly at him, trying to work out what the fuck has just happened when he looks back to you.

he shrugs and says, “offer’s there,” before yelling for E to come and watch the movie with you.

“did you get the – er - problem sorted?” ethan asks awkwardly as he plonks himself back down in the beanbag for the second time today.

“not yet, but bear with us,” his brother mumbles, sending a wink in your direction.

it’s a couple of weeks after that conversation between you and your best friend and thankfully, life has carried on pretty much as normal. grayson hasn’t mentioned the offer since, enquiring about how your dates have been going as casually as usual. the only difference? one friday evening, you’ve joined the twins and a couple of your friends to hang out in their back yard. talk turns to your latest failing after you were set up on a blind date with a friend of a friend.

“he was a nice enough guy, just wouldn’t stop talking about how he’s trying to be ‘off grid’ whatever the fuck that means,” you recall as you sip your drink.

“oh dude, not one of those?” one of the guys sat opposite you says, clearly sharing in your disappointment.

“absolutely one of those, man! oh y/n, you don’t know how good it feels to just unplug, just be with yourself and nature. just living in the moment. like, dude, you live in LA – you’re about as on grid as you can possibly be!”

your group of friends laugh, imagining you trying to school your face into neutrality when you were listening to this dreamer.

“did you meet up with him again?” ethan asks as the laughter starts to die down.

“…yeah,” you sigh reluctantly.

“what?! no way did you meet up with him again! he sounds like such a douchebag!” ethan cries, throwing his arms in the air and leaning towards you for added dramatic flair.

you laugh, “what can i say, E? i’m fuckin’ desperate! he was my only hope!”

“hope? he was your only hope? fuck, i’d rather spend the rest of my days alone than spend them with a pretentious asshat of a man. you don’t need someone like that, y/n!” he stresses.

“what? no! E, i don’t mean he was my only hope of fuckin’ happiness and marriage and all of that – i mean i could see his package through his skin tight jeans and i thought that was exactly what i needed!”

ethan and the rest of the group are nearly crying with laughter at your statement and you glance up at gray who’s sat across from you, chuckling away at his best friend’s honesty. he shakes his head at you as he meets your eye contact.

your friends have just about calmed down from their laughter and just as you’re about to stand up and grab another drink, gray speaks.

“did he live up to your hopes then?”

your eyes glare at his as if to say don’t do this here but he doesn’t flinch. instead, he raises a single eyebrow and smirks, replying to your silent command with his own; answer the question.

the rest of the group is quiet now, looking between the two of you and trying their best not to acknowledge the intense atmosphere that’s just fallen over you.

“well, did he?” he asks again firmly.

you cough quietly to clear your throat, look him dead in the eyes and say a simple, “no,” before you grab your glass to refill.

the last thing you see before you turn around to head inside is grayson trying to hide his smug smile from the rest of the group by looking down at his converse.

you hear a muffled, “well that was weird,” from ethan, and then you slide the door shut with a slam.

night has fallen; it’s late and the group you’re hanging with decide it’s time to head home. hugs are offered and accepted as you all move towards the twins’ front door to say goodbye. you’re the last one there - E is telling you about this sick dance move he saw on twitter - when gray locks the front door and starts to head to the kitchen.

“um, hello? i was just about to leave,” you call. “what’d you lock the door for?”

grayson walks back around into the hallway with a confused look on his face and then ethan speaks for the both of them. “what’re you talkin’ about? just stay in the guest house like usual,” he says and then turns you in that direction with a brotherly shove.

“but-“ you begin.

“y/n, really? what’s the big deal? you always stop over. stop bein’ weird - you’re creeping ethan out,” gray calls across the hallway to you.

you sigh, shaking your shoulders a little because he’s right – why are you being so weird?

“yeah, sorry. guess i’m just more tired than i thought?” you lie. “i’ll see you both in the morning,” you reply, voice carrying through the house as you head towards the guest house.

a chorus of love you and sleep tight bub followed by their brotherly bickering echoes after you and you shut the door behind you with a soft click.

thirty minutes later, you’re showered, teeth brushed, face cleansed and laying in the comfortable bed trying to fall to sleep.

another thirty minutes pass and with a huff, you accept the fact that sleep isn’t very likely any time soon. with a tug on the light covers, you roll over and fumble for your phone that’s discarded on the night stand at the side of you.

after scrolling mindlessly for a while, you see that it’s not even that late – only around 11:30. you sit up and peak through the window of your bedroom facing the house and smile when you see gray’s bedroom is still lit up through his curtains. feeling calmer that you’re not the only one who likes their sleep to still be awake, you settle back onto the bed. you bring up your phone and tap out a quick text:

whatcha doin?????

an immediate reply flashes up on your phone:

sleeping

you smile, then reply:

liar your light’s still on why are you lying??? what are you possibly doing that you can’t tell your best friend?? oh are you…… busy??? wink wink

your phone flashes again:

first of all – stalker second of all… ;)

you’re surprised by the flood of heat that spreads quickly through your body upon reading his reply. is he joking with you or is he really less than twenty feet away from you jerking off? if he is, why is he texting you back whilst he’s…? why can you not get the image out of your mind when you close your eyes? what the fuck is going on?

during your mini crisis, your phone lights up again:

did i scare you off

running your hand through your hair, you swallow loudly to try and get rid of the dryness in your throat and then you reply:

little bit

you take in a deep breath when you see he’s replied again, and glance at the ceiling before looking at your phone:

didn’t mean to sorry :( was only joking

you shake your head and smile when you see his reply. this boy, honestly. the overwhelming feeling of fondness towards him floods through you which might be what encourages you to send a cheeky reply. just banter between friends, right?

that’s a shame was just about to ask if i could join

just as you press send, you wince inwardly and place your hand not holding your phone over your eyes. through your fingers, you see the tell tale notification.

??????? thinkin about that offer are you

the heat from before rages through you again and you can feel a twist deep down in your body. shit. he’s flirting with you – and it’s fucking working. you’re turned on. your best friend is turning you on. you start to type out a reply but then delete it quickly. attempt number two at replying is also deleted. how the fuck do you respond to that?

the tell tale ellipses that shows you’re typing then deleting has clearly shown grayson that you’re unsure of what to say. he takes control of this situation and replies:

come to my room x

your eyes open wide as you read, then re-read the text on screen, just to clarify that you haven’t made this up. shit. your heart beats fast in your chest and your skin feels a little clammy. shit.

he’s impatient now.

y/n stop freaking out come over

not allowing yourself to overthink this situation any further, you listen to your gut, throw your covers back and step out of the room. tip toeing your way across the living room and then down the hallway that leads to the twins’ bedrooms, you try your best not to make any noise so ethan isn’t alerted to what’s going on. whatever that is. as you make your way to gray’s familiar bedroom door, you pause. you can hear ethan yelling at his video game and you smile softly to yourself. you take a deep breath to steady your sudden nerves, and then raise your hand to tap lightly on the door.

within seconds, the door swings open revealing a worked up, sweatpant wearing grayson who’s hair has broken free from its product from running his hand through it. he meets your eyes immediately.

“hi,” is what comes out of your mouth. you inwardly face palm at how awkward you’re acting.

he smirks, then, “hi yourself.”

he pulls the door open wider and jerks his head inside the room as a silent invitation when you appear to be stuck stood in the hallway.

you take one last look into his deep eyes, darker than you’ve ever seen them and step forward, taking the door handle from his hands and shoving it closed. the heated look he gives you as you reach behind yourself to twist the lock shut makes the decision for you.

“so… about that offer?”

he breathes out a stuttered fuck as he steps closer to you, looking you up and down and taking in your appearance.

his dark eyes rake over your bare legs; silky pyjama shorts that you keep in the guest bedroom covering the tops of your thighs but not much else. he pulls his gaze upwards across your shirt – or rather his shirt that you stole – and his jaw clenches and he swallows loudly. as his eyes move across your chest, you self-consciously cross your arm over yourself, moving your gaze to the floor nervously. at your movement, he forces himself to look at your face – that familiar face that he’d forced himself to think only neutral thoughts about; never allowing himself to imagine the things he was thinking right now.

he notices that you’re nervous; on edge for more reasons than one. the look in your eyes gives him some encouragement so he takes a step closer to you, feeling more relieved than he’d like to admit that you don’t flinch away from him. he lightly runs his large, calloused hand lightly down your neck, brushing over your shoulder until he reaches where your arms are still crossed. a soft smirk blossoms on his face as he looks up from where he was following the slow path of his hand to see your eyes have closed at his touch. with the slightest bit of pressure, he pushes down on your folded arms to get you to drop your arms back down to your sides.

“hey none of this. there’s nothin’ to be embarrassed or nervous about. we don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to,” he whispers reassuringly. the hand that pressed at your folded arms creeps forward and he slowly – surprisingly gently – intertwines his strong fingers with your smaller ones. eyes still closed, you take shuddering intake of breath, then open them slowly as you feel him step even closer. you look up to meet his eyes and notice that his forehead is almost touching yours. any doubt in what you were about to do starts to dissipate as you feel his breath brush across your cheek and then your lips as he shuffles closer still. you grip his hand you’re holding tighter as rational thought leaves your mind, leaving you only with one focus – him. you make the move he was waiting for and push your forehead against his lightly and mirror the grin that covers his face at your movement.

“hi again,” you whisper, pleased that you at least managed to speak.

“hi,” he replies still whispering, not wanting to break the intense atmosphere that is cocooning you both. “whatcha thinkin’?” he mumbles as he nuzzles his nose lightly against yours.

the constant tiny movements he’s making – nose rubbing against yours, breath tickling your cheek, stubble scratching at your soft skin – feels like he’s hypnotising you.

“thinkin’ i wanna kiss you.”

he breathes out a whispered shit and moves forward to finally – finally – press his lips to yours. lightly at first, so, so lightly to make sure you’re comfortable, in control and not freaking out. the pressure of his lips against yours, reacting effortlessly to your every movement drives that feeling of pure want in you and you use the hand not gripping his to slide up to the back of his neck and pull him forward. the feel of your nails at the base of his hair makes him groan almost silently – you feel more than hear it – and he pushes forward to meet you. he kisses you properly then – now he knows you really, truly want him to – and fuck, your mind empties at the pure bliss he’s causing you. his tongue kitten licks at your plump bottom lip and immediately, you grant him entrance. shit, if this is how he kisses, you’d grant him anything he wanted right now.

the hands that you’re holding untangle from each other for a second before both pairs relocate to grip each other’s bodies, trying to ground yourselves from this earth shattering kiss. your hand slides up grayson’s hard bicep to join your other hand on his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer. his are both resting on your back; one cupping the back of your neck beneath your hair and the other low on your back, keeping you pressed close to him. you’re plastered against him now and he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. the intensity between the two of you is on fire. you pull away with a gasp but effortlessly he tilts your head to the side and continues his attack onto your cheek, then straight down onto your neck. a breathy moan escapes your mouth as his tongue flicks on that spot right below your ear. his teeth scrape against your skin as a reply and then he sucks that same spot. fuck, you need more.

dragging your hands away from his neck and pulling them down to his chest, never once losing precious skin contact, you push gently and whisper, “gray.”

he replies to your statement of his name by trailing his lips back up to your ear, resting his temple against yours and nodding, not yet opening his eyes.

you feel his breath against your ear and you squirm in the best possible way, gripping your hands in his shirt just by his ribs as you try to arrange your thoughts enough to speak a full sentence.

all that comes out is, “shit, gray.”

you feel that familiar smirk against you and he turns his head to smash another open mouthed kiss against your burning cheek, his other hand holding you in place on your other cheek.

you try again, “gray. please. want you.”

you hear his groan this time and he swoops his lips down to capture yours intensely again. he kisses you so thoroughly you whimper as he retreats from you, placing one last kiss against your lips before finally opening his eyes to look at you.

he sees the burning red flush on your cheeks, your plump, red, swollen lips and the already fucked look in your eyes and wastes no time in tangling his fingers back up with yours and walking backwards into his room, pulling you along.

the coloured lights in his room glow a sensual red and as he stands in front of his bed still holding onto you, you glance behind him. the white sheets were still neatly made from this morning and show no signs of wear. you glance to your left to see the computer on his desk with the editing software loaded, clearly half way through a video.

you frown and look back to his face. you say simply, “you weren’t jerking off.”

he rubs the back of his head nervously. he’s been caught. “err… not at that moment.”

“why’d you say you were?”

“haven’t stopped thinking about that offer i made you since we talked about it,” he replies honestly. he rests his forehead against yours again, unable to not be touching you in some sort of way right now. “wanted to see if i could get you worked up after you talked about that douche earlier. thought i’d blown it to be honest with you. thought i’d scared you off. was so pissed at myself.”

you shake your head slightly and smile, “fuck, i’d convinced myself i didn’t want your offer to happen. as soon as i read your text, i couldn’t think straight.”

he untangles your fingers again, grasps the back of your head with one hand and caresses dangerously low on the bottom of your back with the other as your lips frantically meet again. you physically ache with want. barely moving your lips from his, you mumble, “bed,” authoritatively, the embers of lust bursting into the flames you had desperately tried to keep at bay since he made that ridiculous offer as he immediately followed your instruction.

almost flinging himself backwards in want, he bounces ungracefully on the bed as he shuffles his way further up towards the headboard. he reaches immediately for you and grins cheekily as he sees you trying to hide your giggles at his eagerness.

“keen, are we?” you tease.

“baby, you have no idea.”

his honesty and gruff voice makes you shiver – something that he definitely notices - and you give into the heat that’s flooding through your body and accept his awaiting hand. you plant your knees on either side of his legs at the bottom of the bed and crawl upwards until you’re positioned just above the zipper on his jeans. the heat in his gaze as you make your way slowly up his body makes you feel unbelievably sexy and makes the ache for him in between your legs pulse even more. you finally take a seat in his lap, legs straddling either side of him when he sits up suddenly, desperate to meet your mouth again. you can’t quite register where his hands are at this point – all you know is they’re all over your body and fuck, they feel good.

he moves his mouth across your cheek again and down your neck, making sure to give that secret spot he discovered a little attention. he moves around to the front of your neck and starts to suck a bruise into there. your hand is grasped in his hair, tugging lightly as you moan at the feeling he’s creating in you. needing more of him, you reach behind him and tug gently at the shirt he’s wearing. when he doesn’t immediately respond – he’s still busy marking you up – you groan and tug harder. he pulls back reluctantly, smirking when he sees the red mark that will soon blossom into a bruise and then planting a quick kiss on your chin.

“what’s up, baby?” he teases. “you want somethin’?”

this smug little shit knows exactly what you want right now and the fact he’s teasing you even in this situation works you up even more.

“shirt. off.” you command through gritted teeth.

he winks at you, removing one of his hands from your back and reaching to the back of his neck, quickly shucking his shirt off over his head and tossing it to land on his desk chair.

“if you want somethin’ baby, all you have to do is ask,” he mumbles into your ear and returns his hands to your body.

you breathe out a moan at his openness combined with the feeling of your hands meeting his bare back. your nails scratch slightly as you rake them across the newly exposed skin and his hands travel immediately down to cup your ass through your shorts in response. the material of them is so thin you can feel the callouses of his fingers through them and you immediately grasp his chin to bring your mouths back together.

the force of your kiss sends him backwards and he soon ends up laid flat on his back, you bearing down on top of him, tendrils of hair from your bun falling at each side of his face. he huffs a tiny laugh against your lips which causes you to pull back - only enough that his face isn’t blurred to you - and raise your eyebrow in question as if to say i’m kissing the hell out of you here, why the fuck are you laughing?

he giggles again, trying to school his face into neutrality when he responds, “tickles.”

you pull back even further as if some distance from him will allow your brain to catch up with what he’s talking about when he removes one of his broad hands from your ass to twist in the tendril of your hair that was touching his face.

laughter bursts out of you as you realise what he’s meaning and you fall forward again, this time landing your head in the crook of his neck. his hands pull you close, completely plastered against him as you both shake with laughter. when only short giggles are left between the both of you, you push against his chest to lift up your head and look at your best friend’s face. the offending locks of hair drop forward to tickle his cheek again so he reaches up, sweeping his hand through your hair until he finds your hair tie and then tugs. your hair cascades down over your shoulder and you sweep it to one side so your view of grayson isn’t obscured.

he smiles up at you, tucking a tiny bit of hair behind your ear.

“better?” you whisper to him.

“the best.”

he pulls you to him again, mouth meeting yours and gasping when your teeth nip into his bottom lip. he unconsciously pushes his hips upwards at the movement and you both simultaneously groan at the feeling. he wants – definitely wants you – as much as you want him. you both pause, waiting for the other to react. when he doesn’t make another move, you decide to take control, reaching your hands back to meet his that have travelled back to your ass. placing your hands on top of his, you squeeze and grind your hips down into his hardness.

this is the sign he wanted – needed – from you and the deep moan that echoes from his chest at your movement reminds you of the heat of want burning inside you after your joint moment of laughter. still rocking your hips in that delicious rhythm, grayson’s hands travel under your shirt, moaning into your mouth when he confirms his suspicions that you’re not wearing a bra and then cursing into the heated air when you sit up and pull the shirt straight over your head.

you hear him whisper, “fuck, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” before his sinful mouth attaches itself to your breasts. you can’t help the high pitched whine that escapes out of your mouth, quickly turning into a squeal of surprise as grayson flips you - arm securely around your waist - and lays you carefully back onto his bed. his mouth is still laving at your hard nipples as he settles his weight firmly between your legs. you buck up your hips as if to say move and you feel his rock hard bulge pressing through your whisper thin shorts up against where you desire him the most. you grab his face in order to pull his lips back to your mouth – firstly to keep the sounds threatening to keep spilling out of your lips in and secondly because you think you might be addicted to the feeling.

the intensity of his weight on top of you, bare skin on bare skin, desperate hips rocking together and his devilish tongue battling yours gets a little too much for you, forcing you to pull your mouth away from his to gasp out, “gray, gray. please, gray.”

he nods against your cheek, replying in a deep, breathless grumble, “i know, baby. i know. what do you want?”

you groan louder than you’d planned to as his hips continue their movements and his mouth relocates back to the mark he’d sucked into your neck earlier as he waits for your reply. you lift your legs and lock them around the back of his thighs, moaning out, “fuck. want you gray; want you now.”

he returns your groan, nodding eagerly which internally makes you smile, seeing how enthusiastic he is to please you, but physically you can do no more than tug and grind against him to get what you want. you can’t recall ever being this worked up when you’ve been intimate with others in the past.

he speaks, “yeah. ok. yeah, wanna taste you,” and begins to move downwards towards your pulsing centre but is quickly stopped by your hand behind his head, pulling him right back up to where he’d just come from. you look directly into his eyes, pulling your legs extra tight around his waist and you watch his eyes roll backwards at the pleasure you’re giving him. tugging on his hair lightly to get him to refocus on you, you say quietly, “gray, if you don’t get inside of me in the next 30 seconds, i’m going to fucking scream.”

he huffs out a laugh, smacking a fond kiss on your cheek at your directness that he’s grown to love over the years and whispering a cheeky, “yes ma’am,” before reaching over to his bedside table and fumbling around in there for a condom. once he finally locates one – taking far too long for your liking – he turns back to you, smiling sheepishly at your raised eyebrow and throwing it lightly to land on your chest. you grab hold of it as he reluctantly detangles himself from you and quickly stands to the side of the bed and strips out of his sweats and underwear, leaving them discarded in a messy pile. 

quickly, he moves back to you, kneeling between your still clothed legs and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. he looks up at you to gain permission and groans when he looks at your face; your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you look at him, gloriously naked and waiting to please you. you sit up on your elbows, condom still gripped in one hand as you take him in your other. the relief of your tight grip around him makes him almost fall forward but he catches himself by placing his hands tightly around your hips. his eyes flutter closed after watching your hand move up and down his length a few times and he breathes out a shuddering breath before swatting your hand away. before you can question why, he laughs out an embarrassed, “shit, if you don’t stop that the offer will be over before it’s even started.”

you join him in his laugh, feeling that familiar fondness bloom again in your chest as you look at his pink, blotchy cheeks flushed with embarrassment whilst he looks at you openly, waiting for permission to remove the only items of clothing that are still separating you both. you nod, leaning forward even further to brush your lips against his coloured cheek before laying back down on the bed, letting him take control as he gently tugs your shorts and underwear down your legs.

it’s your turn to blush now as he leaves you bare, throwing your clothes to join his in the pile, black eyes never once leaving your throbbing core. he reaches forward, finger running lightly through your folds as you keen loudly, rocking your hips up to follow his hand, desperate for more. he pulls his hand away, tacking his fingers together and looking mesmerized at your wetness on his fingers before he returns his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles until you’re moaning again.

ungraceful but desperate in your attempts to get him inside of you, you throw the condom you’ve been holding tightly onto at him, hitting him in the chest as it takes him by surprise.

he grabs the condom up from the top of your thigh beneath him where it finally landed and teases, “tryna tell me somethin’?” with a grin.

you nod your head, too worked up to reply using words and breathe in deeply at the sight of him rolling the condom down his length. as he positions himself at your entrance, he checks – just to be doubly sure – “are you sure? do you need anything? maybe my fingers first? shall i get some lube or-“ before he’s interrupted by you.

“fuck, gray. i’m sure – so, so sure. i’ve never wanted anything – anybody – as much as i do right now. i’m ready so please fucking move,” you plead.

he nods and rocks forward, his tip just pushing inside of your walls before he stops at the sound of your whine. “you good? just tell me to stop if –“

“keep going, oh god,” you moan in pleasure. he’s big and you know he’s going to feel incredible when he’s fully in you. you rock your hips forward to encourage him and rub your hand against his hip as he breathes out, “oh fuck.”

eventually, he’s in deep, pressed fully into you and you both pause breathlessly to take in this moment. he leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, placing his hands on either side of your head to hold his weight from crushing you. you rock your hips slightly upwards to encourage him to move and his kisses you once more and whispers, “fuck, y/n,” before he pulls out almost to the tip and then grinds back in. his pace isn’t fast and furious but holy shit – it’s intense. you throw your head back in silent ecstasy as gray positions himself just right and hits your spot continuously. his hands are still holding himself up as he sucks more marks into your neck and chest, never faltering in his delicious rhythm. your hands are gripped onto his ass, pushing and pulling with his thrusts, nails pressing in and dragging quiet, cut off groans out of him.

the noises he makes start to get louder and more frequent, echoing in your ear and driving you closer and closer to that sweet edge that you’ve never achieved with another person before.

“shit, y/n, you feel fucking incredible,” he whispers.

“like we’re made for each other, holy shit,” you breathe in return.

“fit me like a fuckin’ glove,” he grins, before slamming harder into you, covering your noise with his mouth so his oblivious twin brother remains that way.

he lowers his weight onto his elbows beside your head and suddenly he’s so close, surrounding you everywhere and in every way and you feel as though you’re drowning in him in the best possible way. he positions all of his weight onto one strong elbow and he reaches in between your two writhing bodies to press the tips of his calloused, broad fingers to your clit. your noises turn to almost silent breathes now, eyes tightly closed and hands and legs gripping to the boy making you feel this incredible.

gruffly into your ear, he whispers, “fuck. can feel you clamping down on me.”

you moan in response, gritting out, “feels so good, gray. so close,” to which he doubles his efforts, pounding into you harder, rubbing at you deftly in mind blowing figures of eight. you’re there - you’re right there - and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth, not only to muffle your sounds but to cover the elated grin that’s covering your face.

grayson notices – of course he notices – and he huffs out a laugh, combined with a simple, “what? what is it?” still not stopping his movements.

you look him directly in the eyes, remove your hand as there’s no point in hiding it now and you say, “you’re gonna make me come.”

he laughs again, the vibrations from both of your giggling making you both groan too, and he replies, “damn straight i am,” as you finally, finally snap, body convulsing in waves of pleasure as you hit your high. you’re only aware of two things right now: the intense pleasure that’s flowing through you and the boy who’s caused it, looking at you in disbelief and a few moments later, following you right over the edge.

seconds, maybe minutes pass, when grayson finally lifts his head from the crook of your sweat covered neck. he’s not looked at you yet as he pulls out of you, slips the used condom off and ties it, throwing it skilfully into the trash can beside his desk. then – then, he looks at you. you’re lying on his bed, marked up by his mouth and blissed out, lips swollen, cheeks flushed and hair wild on his pillow and shit – he’s never seen anything so beautiful. 

you smile softly at the look of wonder on his face and burst out into a laughing grin which he quickly mirrors. he reluctantly lifts himself off you and lays himself gently at the side of you, close enough to be sure that your arms can still touch – he can’t quite pull himself away from you fully yet.

“so,” you begin, both of you looking up at the ceiling. “that was pretty fuckin’ sensational.”

he guffaws out in the loud bark of a laugh that you’re so fond of and agrees, “it certainly fuckin’ was. wow.”

“you must be feeling pretty smug right now,” you prod.

he laughs again, more of a smirk this time, and turns his head to face you. “oh yeah? why’s that?”

“first boy to ever make me come - a pretty special feat, i’d say.”

“shit, that’s hot,” he replies honestly with an embarrassed little giggle, turning his head back to face the ceiling so he doesn’t have to see your reaction to his confession.

“damn straight it is!” you respond enthusiastically, making him laugh again. “i’m not sure any other boy will ever live up to you. don’t think i’ve ever been as turned on in my life,” you flirt, loving how your honesty is making him squirm at the side of you.

he throws an arm over his eyes at that, groaning out loud, “stop, you’re making me hard again and i literally only came like two minutes ago!”

laughing, you roll onto your side, planting your elbow into the mattress and propping your head up on your hand. “wow, what a terrible thing that would be to happen. i sure would hate a round 2,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes at your clueless best friend.

grayson quickly removes his hand from his eyes and surveys your face quickly, looking for any signs of you teasing him. his pupils dilate again and that sinful smirk grows on his face. “yeah, yeah. sure would be an awful thing to happen,” he plays along whilst turning on to his side to pull you back down flat to the bed. “what was that jenna said? her dude makes her come 3 times?”

“so she fuckin’ says,” you say, accompanied with an eye roll.

he nods, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he prepositions directly into your ear, “how about we go for 4?”

i hope the full fic was worth the wait :) thank you for being patient!

[dolantwinsfavss]

Two Broken Hearts Part 7 {g.d}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 // Masterlist

**Please read: Before you start reading this part of the series, I would like to mention that this part does involve sexual harassment/ assault. If you have ever experienced anything related to it and may believe reading this can be triggering, please don’t read it. I don’t want you to relive it once again especially if Tumblr is your safe zone/ way to escape. And I’m sorry if I offend anyone or misinterpret something, I am trying my best to write this series for all of you to enjoy. And most importantly, I want you to know that I love you. We all love you. You are strong and amazing in every single way. What happened to you does not define you. Only you get to choose what defines you. **

A couple of days later you were woken up to the sound of someone knocking on your front door. Figuring it couldn’t be your brother because he was out of town, you let the knocking continue. Soon after, the knocking became loud banging causing you to quickly get out of bed and open the door only to be faced with an angry Grayson, someone you have never encountered before. You’ve seen him pissed off annoyed before but not like this. His eyes were dark, knuckles turning white as his nails dug into the palm of his hand. Too shocked to say anything, you let him walk into the house, his broad shoulder almost knocking you down.

“W-Why are you here?” You asked quietly, as this moment took you back to the time when he came over to cheer you up when you weren’t having the best day. But of course this time, it was nothing like that. Today was going to be a day you will never be able to forget.

“You know I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what you said and how you think that all of this is because of me,” he said shaking his head as his voice got louder and pointed his finger at you, “but you’re wrong. This is all because of you! Everything is because of you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! You know exactly what you did!” Grayson yelled walking towards you, making you take a few steps back.

“G-Gray... I don’t know what you’re talking about. I promise. I don’t know what I did wrong.” You said getting quieter.

“You go around acting like this princess that is so high and mighty. Never thinking about anyone but yourself!” He shouted as his words continued to break your heart. Did he really think I was that selfish? That I didn’t care for anyone else?

“I still don’t understand why you’re so upset with me. What did I do wrong that you would blame eve-” 

“She broke up with me.” He stated simply. 

You paused for a bit before saying, “Okay but why does that have to do anything wi-”

“She broke up with me because of you! You are the reason behind why I just lost the girl I cared so much about. You’re the reason why my life is like this!” Grayson yelled with no remorse insight. Everything he said made you think he never cared for you in the first place and maybe he never did.

“Grayson, you can’t just blame me for your relationship problems. I had nothing to do with this.” You said crossing your arms.

“Yes you did! She broke up with me because you can’t keep your fucking feelings in check. You can’t get over that fact that I don’t want you and guess what? I never did and I never will.” He said through his gritted teeth.

This is what brought you close to your breaking point. The fact that he would blame you for something you clearly had no control over and the fact that he would bring up your feelings once again to hurt you. 

“Don’t you think I get that? Don’t you think that I understand that I’m such a horrible person that you don’t even want to be in the same room as me? I’m not fucking stupid Grayson. I was just stupid enough to fall for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me.” You threw back.

“It’s not my problem that you can’t distinguish the difference between someone actually having feelings for you and someone who’s just trying to be nice.”

“I don’t care about that right now. It’s the fact that you’re being a fucking dick who doesn’t give a shit about anyone else but themselves. Do you even care that maybe that my feelings are hurt too?” And you meant it. You didn’t know where he stood and if he really didn’t care that you got hurt.

“Don’t try to turn this on me. You know what you did. You tried to ruin my life just to get back at me. And for what? For not liking you back?”

You felt your heart sink to your stomach. How could be he so cruel? “Is that what you think of me? Some girl who’s trying to ruin your life because you don’t see me the same way as I see you?” You asked, voice breaking in the process as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Someone’s who’s trying to hurt you the same way you hurt me? Because I’m not. Because I actually have the decency and respect to not want you to feel the same way I’ve felt ever since this started. I don’t want you to go through the pain that I’ve gone through. Because let me fucking tell you that this shit hurts. Having your heartbroken every damn day and not being able to have control over it is the most painful thing I have ever experienced.”

Anger, betrayal, and sadness ran through your veins. You couldn’t look at him without seeing disgust. You couldn’t recognize who the person was staring at you with no expression on his face. Nothing. He just stood there trying to comprehend what you just said. But you were done. You didn’t want a response, you just wanted to be left alone. So you walked right past him toward your room, shoulder brushing against his forearm without looking at him you said, “Feel free to show yourself out. You know where the door is.”

About 30 minutes later you got a phone call from Ethan. You wanted to ignore his call but you knew he would just keep calling until you picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey Grayson just came home extremely upset. Is there anything I need to know?” Ethan asked once Grayson was in his room.

“No.” You lied as you tried not to break down once again.

“Y/N I know something happened. You can’t lie to me.” Ethan said and he was right. You couldn’t lie to him.

“E... I really don’t want to talk about it right now okay?” You asked as you tried to keep yourself distracted, hoping he wouldn’t push you to say anything.

“I uh yeah. Yeah that’s fine. Just call me if you need me okay?”

“I will. Thanks E.” You smiled, knowing he would do anything for you.

“No problem. See you later.”

“See ya.” You hung up the phone and placed it on your nightstand as you curled up on your bed, tears hitting your pillow.

Why did I have to fall for him in the first place? Why did he have to come home and fuck everything up? Why did my stupid ass have to fall for someone like him? You still couldn’t help but to continue thinking over and over again about everything that had happened. You hated that no matter how much Grayson was equally at fault, you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. That was one your traits you hated but loved about yourself. No matter how badly someone wronged you before, you could never blame them.

A bucket of tears, tons crumpled tissues, and hours of movies playing in the background later, your phone rang again. You picked up the phone and saw that one of your friends was calling. “Hello?” You answered, hoping she wouldn’t notice you had been crying.

“Hey Y/N! I was just calling to see if you were still coming to my birthday dinner tonight! I know we haven’t talked in a while but it would be really great to see you there!” She excitedly said.

Shit. I forgot that was tonight. Should I say I’m not feeling well and not go? I haven’t seen her in so long... I can’t just ditch when I said I would be there months ago.

“I uh I y-yeah I’ll be there. At 7 right?” 

“Yeah! Oh my gosh I can’t wait! But are you okay?” Crap she knows.

“Yeah I’m fine! Just allergies that’s all! But I can’t wait to see you!” 

“Can’t wait to see you too!” You hung up the phone and saw that it was almost 5 o’clock so you decided to get out of bed and get ready.

While you put on some light makeup, did your hair, and put on a really cute outfit that hugged you in all of the right places, you felt yourself becoming more confident and happy about yourself. Maybe you deserved to go out tonight to forget everything that has happened these past few nights. To forget about him. 

You got to the restaurant and was greeted by your friend, “Y/N! You’re here! Ah!” She pulled you into a tight hug which you gladly returned. “I missed you!”

“Hi haha I missed you too!” You said, truly feeling the joy she always radiated off of her.

“Come on! You have to meet my friends!” She said pulling you towards the table where she introduced you to everyone who was super nice and welcoming.  

Throughout the night you made some new friends and had a really great time. You actually started to believe that maybe things would be okay. You were surrounded by so many positive people you were sure would be in your life forever even you’ve known them for less than two hours.

By the end of the night you were saying your goodbyes as you all headed in separate directions. You had to park a little further than everyone else since you were a little late. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your car?” Your friend asked.

“No it’s okay. Thank you though and thanks for inviting me I had an amazing time.” You smiles back before giving her one last hug goodbye.

You walked to your car, reminiscing how great of a time you had and how genuinely happy you felt for going out tonight instead of letting your emotions control you. It was going to be a long process of getting over what had happened between you and Grayson but things will work itself out, hopefully. As you were about to reach your car, you noticed a man a little further ahead and thought maybe he was just waiting for his ride. But before you could reach into your purse to grab your keys, you heard someone say, “Hey! Lookin good in that outfit of yours!”

Not wanting to interact with him, you mumbled a quick thank you and gave him a tight smile. You could tell he was drunk, judging by how he slurred his words and couldn’t walk straight. The smell of alcohol radiated off of his breath and body, burning your nostrils. You turned your back to him, trying to get into your car as quick as possible as the pit of your stomach continued to grow. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” The man began to raise his voice.

“I-I just really have to go.” You said nervously.

Before you knew it he harshly grabbed your arms and waist and turned you around so your back was on the car. “Get off of me!” You yelled, desperately trying to get him off of you with all of the strength you had but he was too strong.

“But that outfit of yours would look better on the floor.” The man whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine and your heart sinking to your stomach.

He began roaming his hands all over your body and kissing your neck, making you want to throw up. “Please just let me go!” You yelled out, still trying to push him away.

“Scream all you want princess. No one’s going to hear you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He slurred, reaching under your shirt and touching your bare skin. The man began to reach under your skirt, fingers getting dangerously close to your underwear every time you tried to push his hand away.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yelled, using your all of your strength to push him off of you. Somehow you managed to break free and was able to knee him in the balls and punch him in the face causing him to stumble back, clutching his nose.

“You bitch! You’re going to pay for this!” He yelled as you ran as fast as you could. You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you needed to get out of there. You ended up stopping a couple of buildings down from the parking lot. It was now super dark with no one insight, but luckily you still had your phone on you.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts as your own tears began to blur your vision and land on your phone screen. You clicked on the first person you thought of as fast as your shaky hands allowed you to. As you put your phone to your ear, your other hand covered your mouth to hold back the sobs as you heard the ringing continue on the other line. “Come on. Pick up...” You said leaning back against a wall, looking up at the sky.

“At the tone, please leav-”

“Dammit! Pick up the damn phone!” You shouted, redialing and holding the phone back up to your ear. Soon enough your legs began to grow weak so you sat down hugging yourself with the free arm you had, whispering, “I need you to answer me...” as tears fell down your face.

Five calls later and nothing. He never picked up the phone. All straight to voicemail.

So you decided to call the only person you could trust at the moment and after the first ring he picked up the phone immediately. “Hey Y/N! I just watched the funniest movie ever. I definitely have to show you the next time we hangout. But what’s up?” The sound of his voice provided you with the smallest bit of comfort you were grateful for.

You couldn’t speak. The words just couldn’t come out of your mouth. You took a deep, shaky breath and said, “E...” as you tried extremely hard not to break down right then and there.

The second Ethan heard the tone of your voice, the smile he had on his face immediately fell as he knew something was wrong. “Y/N what happened?” He asked as he quickly got out of bed and sat at the edge of his bed, anxiously waiting for your answer.

“I... I... P-Please come get me.” You whispered into the phone.

Ethan quickly got up, grabbing his keys and starting his car. “Y/N I need you to tell me where you are. Can you do that for me?”

You looked around you, but quickly began to panic when you realized you didn’t know where you were. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know where I am. I just ran and I just... I can’t.”

“Hey Y/N listen to me. Listen to my voice okay? Can you describe what’s around you? Maybe the name of a building or a street sign?” Ethan asked, trying his best not to panic.

You tried to describe your surroundings to Ethan as best as you could, luckily Ethan knew where you were in less than two minutes. “Okay Y/N you did great. I’ll be there soon okay? J-Just... stay safe.”

“E... Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.” You said, voice breaking as you realized how lonely you truly felt.

“I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Love you Y/N.” Ethan reassured you as he quickly drove to you.

“I love you too and be careful please.” You said, knowing how easily he got worried. 

And you were right, Ethan was speeding as fast as he could, not caring if he got a ticket. All he cared about was you and your safety. His knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard and jaw clenched he was sure he was going to break his teeth. Every thought ran through his mind wondering and worrying about you as he raced through the empty streets late at night. Even though he wasn’t as close to you as Grayson was, that didn’t mean he didn’t care as much. He would drop everything for you if he knew you weren’t okay and that was your favorite part about Ethan. He always tried to hide his emotions, but you always knew he cared so much more than what others perceived him to be.

Soon enough you spotted his white Jeep and Ethan running out. He engulfed you in his arms the second he saw you as you sobbed into his chest and him whispering,“Shhh it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe now.” 

Ethan, himself, began to feel weak, never seeing you so broken before. He held your trembling body in his arms as tightly as he could, still so afraid of breaking your fragile figure. But he knew he needed to be strong. He pulled away and quickly took off his jacket and helped you put it on before saying, “Come on. We can get your car tomorrow. Let’s get you home.”

On the way home, Ethan went back to tightly gripping the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead though every five seconds his eyes were going back to the fragile girl sitting in the seat next to him.

You sat in the passenger’s seat with your knees up, chin resting on the top of them, and arms pulling your knees closer to you, desperate to feel comfort again. You were practically drowning in Ethan’s jacket. If it wasn’t for the fact that his scent calmed you down the slightest bit, you wouldn’t know what you could hold onto anymore. You stopped sobbing but silent tears still ran down your face as the feeling of disgust never left.

You didn’t realize the car had stopped until Ethan softly placed his hand over yours, causing you to flinch and him whispering a quick sorry. You looked up and realized that you were outside of his house rather than your own. “I thought you were taking me home.” You said still unable to move from your position.

“I didn’t want you to be alone right now especially since your brother isn’t home.” Ethan said honestly. You slowly nodded your head before undoing your seatbelt. 

Ethan quickly got out of the car and helped you get out. He guided you to the front door before you stopped and asked with a quiet voice, “I-Is he home?”

“No um he’s not. I think he said he’ll be out late.” Ethan said nervously as he scratched the back of his head, hoping you were still okay with him bringing you to their house.

“Okay...” You said before Ethan guided you to his room and grabbed some of his clothes for you to change into.

“Here’s some clothes for you. The bathroom is just right over there.” Ethan said giving you a sad smile.

“Is it um okay if I take a shower? I feel kind of dirty...” You said quietly, staring at the ground and playing with the sleeves of Ethan’s hoodie.

“Uh yeah. Yeah. I’ll right outside in my room.” Ethan said looking down at your small figure. You weren’t shaking as much as before but Ethan could still you weren’t okay.

“Actually can I leave the door open? I don’t want to be locked in there.” You said grabbing the clothes from him.

“Uh yeah. Do you want me to um?”

“Please.” You said finally looking up at Ethan, who stared at you with a soft look in his eyes. As you got into the shower, Ethan sat near the door with his back pressed against the wall staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

You sat on the floor of the shower, hugging your knees close to your chest as you let the water run down you. You couldn’t bring yourself to stand up, but no matter how hot the water was and how hard you scrubbed your body, you could still feel his hands and lips all over your body.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, trying so hard to just process seeing you so shaken up. He took slow, shaky breaths as he started to notice his vision become blurry from the tears that formed in his eyes. Even though you haven’t told Ethan what had happened yet, he couldn’t help but worry. He kept wondering what if he ignored your call because he was “too busy”, what if he had fallen asleep and never heard his phone ring, or what if you had never called? What if something really bad happened to you... What if... He couldn’t let his mind go there, even if it was the truth, he would never forgive himself if he never picked up the phone. And if Ethan was being honest, he was too afraid to hear what had happened to you, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it. But he knew he needed to ask you.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the water be turned off and the glass door open to reveal you already in his clothes. Ethan stood up from his sitting position by the door and rushed to your side.

“E?” You asked with a broken and quiet voice, seeming smaller than you already were. Ethan looked down at you to meet your red, puffy eyes that stored so much pain. It was the first time you were able to make eye contact with him all night.

“Yeah?”

“I... can’t. I ca-”

“Hey. You can’t what? You need to tell me what happened.” Ethan asked crouching down to your level to make direct contact with you.

Your mind was still trying to comprehend what had happened, but eventually you were able to take a deep breath and tell Ethan everything that happened. He wanted to punch something, hurt someone, but his only reaction was to pull you into his chest and hold you as tightly as possible as you couldn’t even bring yourself to hug him back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ethan repeated over and over again as he placed kisses on your head.

“I can’t wash the feeling off of me. I can still feel his hands and lips on me. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I can’t get this off of me.” You pulled away, scratching your neck. This is when Ethan stepped back and realized how red your body was from the hot water and you scrubbing so hard, also noticing faint bruising on your arms. Ethan was so angry. So angry at the man who did this to you, but most importantly, at himself for not knowing how to help you.

Ethan pulled you into his chest again and whispered, “It’ll go away I promise. I know it doesn’t seem like that right now but it’s going to be okay. And I know I can’t do or say that will help you, but know I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We can just go to bed yeah?”

You nodded and followed him into his room as he got his bed ready for you. “You can sleep here. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Ethan said grabbing his pillow and blanket before softly shutting the door behind him.

Even though you were ready for bed, you could stop feeling his hands all over you. Your mind kept you wide awake no matter how hard you tried to fall asleep. Every time you shut your eyes, you pictured his face staring right at you. You couldn’t stop so you got up and quietly walked to the living room where Ethan was. He was sound asleep and you didn’t want to bother him so you contemplated going back and forth whether if you should wake him up. But before you could walk back to Ethan’s room, you heard him mumble, “Y/N? You okay?”

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s nothing. Just go back to sleep.” You said beginning to walk away.

But before you got too far, Ethan got up and grabbed your wrist. “Hey. It’s not ‘nothing.’ Did you need something?” He said with the most caring voice.

“It’s stupid... But I just can’t sleep. I can’t stop picturing him in my head. Every time I close my eyes, I see him.” You said looking down at your feet.

You didn’t even have to say it and Ethan already knew what you needed. So he intertwined his fingers with yours and lead you to his room. You two got into bed as Ethan put his arm around you, pulling you to his chest. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m okay now.” You whispered to him as he played with pieces of your hair. You laid on his chest, hearing his heartbeat that calmed you down.

“What if it was my fault?” You asked out of the blue, shocking Ethan the moment he heard those words come out of your mouth. “What if it was my fault because I shrugged him off? What if it was because my outfit was too revealing? It was all my fault...”

Ethan quickly pulled you right next to his chest, holding you tighter than ever before as he felt his own tears fall on his face. “Please please please know it’s not your fault. It was never your fault. It wasn’t the way you acted or the way you dressed. It was because that disgusting man thought it was okay to hurt you. Who thought it was okay because you supposedly sent the wrong signals. None of this was your fault.”

“I jus-” You started but Ethan wouldn’t let you finish.

“Stop. It’s not your fault. Please just... I need you to know that. Never blame yourself for someone else’s wrongdoings.”

“Okay.” You simply said. Even though you blamed yourself, deep down you knew Ethan was right. You couldn’t blame yourself for something that clearly was out of your control. You and no one else should be blamed for someone else’s actions.

You two laid there for a while, aimlessly drawing shapes on each other. Neither of you wanted to speak, just enjoying each other’s safety and comfort. Ethan wanted to stay awake until he knew you fell asleep because that meant you were finally okay and was able to rest. But that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You lied awake realizing you never thanked Ethan for being there for you.

“Thank you Ethan. Thank you for being there for me when no one else wasn’t. Thank you for everything.” You said meaning every single word even though Ethan would never know how grateful you were for him.

“You’re welcome Y/N. I’m just thankful I answered the phone when I did. I don’t know I would do if I didn’t.” He confessed, feeling so incredibly relieved you were here with him in one piece, even though on the inside you felt like you were broken into a million pieces that would never be put back together.

“He never answered the phone...” You muttered into his warm chest.

“Who?” Ethan asked lifting up his head to look down at you.

You never lifted your head of his chest as you played with his blanket nervously. “Grayson.”

@killmonger-dolan @mutuallynotmutual @captainelizza @kawennote09 @fireghost-x @this-and-that-with-meghan @graydolan12 @sweet-dolans @hollandhearts @parkers-onesie @cthoodsthetic @babygirlblogs-posts @w0nderr @ohmydolanz @headlights95

[heathendolan]

Little Luke McIver (G.D)

Summary: Kindergarten teacher Grayson Dolan is the only one who can crack the shell of Luke McIver, your newest case in social work. So you’ll need him to stick around.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone, this is again a newer branch for me; it’s mainly focused on the relationship between (y/n) and luke and then luke and grayson instead of being complete romance. if that isn’t for you, i totally get it!!! but it was again fun to step out of my comfort zone and try something. extended author’s note

Warnings: PLEASE READ!!! child abuse, social work, a little bit sad. if any of this bothers you PLEASE don’t read, i really did my research to be as precise as i could be!! but it could still be triggering !!!!!

Word Count: 15.2K+ || masterlist

It hadn't changed a bit.

There, a hundred yards away, stood your beloved elementary school in its glory: chipping paint, rusted sign, and all. You weren't one to deny yourself of a smile. It had been eons since you'd visited this place, but it was still nostalgic and vivid and bursting with memories; you'd hardly stepped foot on the property and you'd already spotted the pole Caleb VanDyke stuck his tongue to in third grade.

You crept up the sidewalk with your binder tucked under your arm, hopped about in your heels, and narrowly dodged the forbidden obstacles--cracks--etching the dull pavement. Along the sidewalk were mementos, engraved and painted in the cement, dating all the way back to the early 1980s. It was tradition for the kindergarteners to add their addition with their teeny, tiny, creative brains, and you nearly gasped when you stumbled upon your own handprint, embedded near the benches, basking in the hot August sun. You slumped down to your knees and flattened your hand (now ginormous in comparison) to the shallow crater and marveled. Marveled at how quickly twenty years had slipped on by without you ever noticing the size of your hands.

"Crazy, innit?"

You jumped to your full height, wobbled under the instability of your heels, and smoothed out your pencil skirt with dusty hands. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you turned to face your attacker.

"Jeez Hun, I didn't mean to scare you!" the lady cried, pressing a hand to her heart and enveloping you with the other.

"Mrs. Hoffmann! Oh my god, I'm sorry I just-"

"No, don't apologize, that was completely my fault!"

"No, seriously, I am so jumpy that I just-"

At once, you both realized how unnecessarily kind and apologetic you were being and huffed a chuckle. "My, how you've grown," she simpered, cupping your face between two hands before tugging you into one of her famous bear hugs. You smiled into her shoulder and realized she hadn't changed that much, either; you'd seen her all throughout high school when she popped by the boutique you had worked at, and aside from a few more pairs of crow's feet and some greying roots, she was practically untouched, well into her late forties. She was kind and had a heart twice the size of anyone you'd ever met. And she was beautiful; she always had been. "You're so old now," she said. "Making me feel like some ancient ruin."

You giggled and shook your head. "Not a chance, you're still kickin'! It's going to be so weird counseling little mini-me's," you gushed, wrapping your arms around yourself. You stared at your feet and smirked at the handprints of classmates you'd graduated with. "I feel like I should still be wearing light-up sketchers, not these... death traps," you laughed, kicking your heel up.

She chuckled and slipped her arm around you and escorted you into the entryway. Almost instantly, your brain bloomed with memories upon memories upon memories. "Do you know where you're going, Honey?" she asked as the two of you pulled up to a fork.

You nodded and waved her goodbye with a promise to catch up soon, and then dashed away, beelining for your office.

Your office. What a phrase.

There, you frowned at the blankness, the blandness, the bareness of the walls and decided two things: one, that you had to redecorate this cell, and two, that you would be the best elementary counselor this world had ever seen.

-

Easier said than done.

"Luke, hi!" you cheered as Cory, Principal Larson, coaxed a boy, maybe five years old, into your office.

A few weeks had passed and your job, so far, had been less than flashy. You'd resolved tearful playground disputes and consoled cafeteria tantrums and, well, not much else. It was a blur of meetings, hissy fits, and really bad school coffee. You'd made a mental note to buy your own Keurig.

But Luke was different, and you could see that right away.

Cory hung in the doorway, nearly barricading Luke in as the kid fought his way around the large man. Luke already had tears sprung in his eyes, a pitiful frown, and an overall, seemingly permanent, aura that oozed with fear. His tiny hands were fisted by his sides and his curls dangled protectively over his big doe eyes and something painful, something piercing, poked at your heart when you realized Luke needed your help a lot more than any of those kids on the playground. Luke really, really needed your help.

So, you bounced out of your chair and scurried over to Luke and bent at knee level and swept a warm hand over his shoulder. "Hey Luke, can we talk for a little? Not too long, I promise" you pleaded softly, hoping to catch his eye. But Luke was staring at the floor, blankly, stubbornly. And a tear rolled off his nose. "I've got it from here, Mr. Larson," you whispered, nodding up at Cory.

You held onto Luke's hand as you shut the door, careful to make sure he didn't just bolt right out. "Wanna sit in the beanbag?" you smirked, thumbing to the cushy, plump seat tucked in the corner. It was every kid's favorite. Luke looked at it longingly before shaking his head, hopping on the rigid desk chair far, far away from you, and staring at the ground again.

Luke was small. Smaller than most of his class, you'd assumed, with his skeletal arms and equally skinny legs. He wore a grey Power Rangers shirt that practically dwarfed him and brown cargo pants that rode up his ankles. His shoes were a dull, gunky yellow with dozens of holes and, from the looks of it, Luke's feet were bare of socks. Luke was textbook poor.

And poor-spirited, it seemed as well. You'd seldom seen a kid so quiet. You were so busy studying him you'd hardly realized minutes had passed on the clock without a single word exchanged. No, Luke just sat there, cowering under your gaze, staring at the ground. Luke was well practiced in the art of silence.

And that just wasn't okay, nor was it natural. Kids had technicolor brains bursting with imagination and creativity and words. Kids would scream and shout and run amuck and yell; kids would talk--if you let them.

"Luke," you began, fumbling for words that could fill the dreary silence that suffocated your office. "Luke, what's your favorite color?"

Luke looked up at you with his big doe eyes and a quivering lip and sat on his hands. He kept looking at you, tears in his eyes, tremor in his jaw, and stared. Stared for minutes. Stared for hours, it felt like. You weren't going to rush him, Luke should take as long as he wanted.

But then he was sniffling, and a pitched, strangled whimper echoed from his mouth and you wondered how you could possibly fix this.

C'mon, you went to school for this. Speak!

"Luke, wanna know something cool?" you asked, leaning over the desk as he tucked in on himself. "This room? It's the safest place in the world."

To that, Luke's cries cut off. He was now just staring at you with his big, big brown eyes and waiting.

"I'm serious, this place is protected," you nodded.

In the smallest, most broken voice, Luke asked, "From what?"

You smiled your kindest smile and said, "Can you keep a secret?" He looked to either side of him, made sure the coast was clear before he nodded. "Luke, this place is protected by magic," you whispered. "Fairies and wizards. Swear," you said. Luke's doe eyes got even rounder. "So we can tell secrets and no one will find out. Soundproof," you explained with confidence, knocking on the wall theatrically. "Which is why I can give you this, and nobody will ever know."

You dug in your drawer and pulled out a sucker and tossed it his way, watching as he marveled at the little treat plopped in his lap. "Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)..." Luke breathed, stuffing the candy in his pocket.

"You can call me (Y/N)," you grinned. "But only my friends get to call me (Y/N), okay?"

Luke nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

With the full understanding that these things take time, that Luke needed space--and by the looks of it, a lot of space--and that he would work his way up to trust, you asked, "Luke, can I see you in a couple days? Would that be okay?"

Luke didn't answer, he simply leaped from his chair and darted out the door, and left you with a low, low spirit.

-

"Hey," Cory mumbled, tapping on your door. "Get 'im to crack?"

You grimaced and shook your head. "No, I didn't. It's going to take time--and I mean time. He hardly breathes in the same room as me," you groaned, digging your fingers into your scalp. "Scares me to think about what might be going on at home."

Cory sighed. “Yeah, the kid’s a little... I mean, the teachers notice it, you know? I know you know, you’ve dealt with this stuff before,” Cory shrugged, frowning at his polished shoes.

But you hadn’t dealt with this stuff before. You were fresh out of your master’s with minimal experience. Your internship was borderline bogus.

“Yeah, I don’t know, stuff never gets easier,” you mumbled.

And that wasn’t entirely a lie. You imagined you’d feel the same way about Luke as any of the other kids whose shells needed cracking, whose homes needed relocating. No one wanted to deal with this stuff, this heartbreak of a job. But someone had to.

“Just... keep me updated, alright? Let me know if you need help with anything,” Cory said. “And I’ll let Luke’s teachers know what’s going on. I mean, it’s only kindergarten but you never know what tricks Mr. Dolan is pulling,” he chuckled, smirking to himself.

A thick glob of spit lodged itself in your throat at the mention of a ‘Mr. Dolan’, and you began coughing and wheezing and making a scene at once.

Growing in a town that size with a family as known as the Dolans were, there were only two possibilities for who ‘Mr. Dolan’ could be. Grayson, and Grayson.

You’d hardly been keeping tabs, but Ethan had boomed as a traveling photographer and Cameron was most definitely not a ‘Mr.’, and Sean was still the superintendent of the district (and had hired you). And, unless there was a new clan of Dolans in town, ones that weren’t half as gorgeous, you were very, very stressed.

You hadn’t seen Grayson since a small town, Christmas-break party. Limited interaction was how you liked it; Grayson made you (and the rest of the Long Valley population) clutzy, stuttery, and blushy—a few of your least favorite things to be.

It was nothing more than the fact that Grayson was gorgeous. And kind. And so, so polite. Every mom spent their Sundays praying their daughters would woo him and their sons would follow in his golden boy footsteps. He was Long Valley’s most beloved and there was no shame in admitting that you had also fallen victim to his spell; everyone loved Grayson, and that was that. But of course, that fucker picked something as absolutely adorable as Kindergarten education.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay? Here, drink some water,” Cory urged, patting your back and sliding you your water bottle.

Red in the face, you hacked before saying hoarsely, “All good.”

Not all good.

-

"Mrs. Hoffmann, hi!" you cried, stepping into the coffee shop and greeting her with a hug. She buried you in the warmth of he fur-lined parka and you accepted it with appreciation; this October had been particularly chilly in New Jersey with its barren trees and its frosted lawns, and cold meant the need for, well, coats. Your thoughts drifted back to little Luke McIver with his Power Rangers shirt and his brown cargo capris and his canary yellow, many-holed shoes. He needed a hug from Ms. Hoffmann and her big parka.

"Ugh, how are the roads?" she asked conversationally. "Are they slippery? This morning it was just pouring, I'm almost afraid it'll freeze over."

You nodded along. "No, yeah they were slippery. I nearly drifted pulling into Cozy Corner just now," you expounded, pointing to the entrance near the coffee shop.

She shook her head with disgust. "Guess you can't hope for a late winter here in Jersey. I'll for sure be getting a pumpkin spice latte with this weather."

And so, you sat down with your mugs in hand and huddled in the overstuffed loveseat and chatted for hours about the new boutique that had popped up on fifth street and the old bowling alley being torn down. She was, without a doubt, one of the kindest people you'd ever met: she bought your coffee and tipped 50%, offered up her coat as a blanket for the two of you, and complimented your very lazy outfit. This was no surprise to you; this woman was magical, and you'd known it since you were five. It felt like an honor to even sit and chat.

"So, I have to ask and I don't mean to offend, promise," she started. "but what exactly are you? Like, at the school? Do you work outside of the school too? I feel like such a loon, but I've really fallen out of the times-"

"Ms. Hoffmann, please," you snorted, laying a hand on her forearm that was dancing all about.

"And would you quit calling me Ms. Hoffmann! Call me Nancy, Honey."

"Okay, Nancy," you giggled. "I went to school and got my masters in counseling psychology and a bachelor's in social work. So, I work as both in the school. So, if a student were to be dealing with mental health issues, I could, you know, help them out as any counselor would, but if their problems are stemming from their home life, well then I move about and-"

"Hun, you know I'm in the system, right?" she smiled gently.

"What? You're kidding," you gaped. "You're a social worker?"

"Well no," she laughed. "No, I double-majored in elementary education and social work and then when I got out, I decided I'd just be a teacher for awhile and get my feet on the ground, and then I fell in love with teaching. I absolutely love the kids and after I got tenured, I just... I never went back to fulfill that part of the degree. I kind of wonder sometimes, what it would have been like, but I've never regretted it. Of course, it would have been fun if Steve and I could have fostered some kiddos," she smiled sadly. "Or had some. But, things don't always work out in your favor, I guess."

Her eyes glassed over and she clasped her hands tightly under the coat, fisting a wad of the material. It was a tragedy what happened to the Hoffmanns; a few years into their marriage, Nancy miscarried once, then twice. There was only so much gift baskets and get well soon cards could do. She was lonely without kids, that much was obvious. You supposed being a kindergarten teacher was as good as it could have possibly gotten for a woman with her circumstances, but they always left after nine months and change. It wasn't the same.

You grabbed her hand from under the coat and rubbed a thumb over her knuckles.

She laughed breathlessly and said, "Not that- not that we should delve into something so cynical, I-"

You lifted a hand to her to stop her unnecessary apology. "Mrs. Hoffmann-"

"Nancy."

"Nancy, this is my job, being a shoulder to cry on. Never apologize to me for such a trivial thing as uncorking your emotions. We all need to, sometimes. Be my guest," you urged.

And she did. She talked about the ache to buy Christmas toys and back-to-school supplies, how she ached when she received graduation cards from past students and Christmas cards from past families. Ached when people told her to 'get a dog, it's basically the same thing.' Ached when Steve played with little ones and looked so natural, so right. Ached when students accidentally called her mom.

"You're so good at this," she sniffled, wiping her nose with her macaron's napkin. "The words just come pouring out, I haven't told anyone this stuff in years."

You nibbled on your lip, feeling that certain pride that comes with intimacy. "Sometimes I can crack shells, sometimes I can't," you admitted. "There's a student, and I just... can't get him to budge. Not an inch."

She frowned and patted your leg soothingly. "He'll come around. Kids are weird, sometimes," she giggled. "Like Grayson Dolan was telling me about this girl, Piper Conrad, just flopping on the carpet and making a snow angel in the middle of class and- why are you blushing?"

Heat was boiling your face at the mere mention of Grayson Dolan. It was pathetic. "Blushing? I'm not, I'm- this pumpkin spice is just really seasoned, the nutmeg in it is just-"

"Grayson Dolan," she gasped, piecing the bits together. "Oh (Y/N), tell me about it. That man's a hunk. Didn't you graduate with him? I get it, I really do; if he weren't half my age and miles out of my league and I wasn't married I would just-"

"Nancy!" you cried with laughter, shushing her confession. "Nancy, I don't like him. There's nothing there, he probably doesn't even know I exist, it's been like, seven years since I've seen him."

She smirked and nodded sardonically. "But he will. Just you wait until we have a workshop day, oh you are so-"

"I am so nothing! You pipe down, missy."

"Right," she laughed. "Well, let me buy you another coffee for your troubles, listening to this old hoot cry a hurricane, and let's head on out. I think the roads are going to freeze over, after all," she frowned as looked out the window. "Hopefully this latte will keep you warm in place of Mr. Dolan."

-

On Thursday, Luke was again seated in his rickety, uncomfortable chair in the back corner, far as far could be from you. He was wearing his brown too-short pants and his grey too-big Power Rangers shirt and his ochre too-many-holed shoes again. No socks, big brown eyes, and a raw bitten lip—Luke looked about as sad as you’d think.

“Luke, how have you been the past couple days?” you asked quietly, approaching the subject as gently as you’d approach a tortured animal.

Luke looked tired. And lost. And cold; New Jersey’s lawns were crisp with frost on that October morning with a thick mask of fog settling in the air, and the school had yet to crank the heat on in an effort to save money. Of course, this typically wasn’t a problem—most kids had jackets, or at least sweatshirts. You suspected that might be a problem for Luke.

Luke didn’t answer you.

“Luke?” you coaxed.

He tucked his lips under his teeth and clenched his tiny little jaw and visibly fought back tears.

And he sat like that for the whole hour. You would have sat there the whole day with Luke, waiting, pleading with him to let you help him, but Luke had lunch.

When the bell chimed, he hopped off his seat and dashed towards the door, but paused. “(Y/N)?” he whispered, his voice crackly and dry.

“Yeah, Luke?”

“Mommy said fairies don’t exist,” he sniffled, hand on the door handle. “Mommy said you lied to me.”

Your heart wrenched deep in your chest, the physical symptoms of heartbreak bustling within you. Luke looked at you with his big doe eyes and you looked back with all the sadness in the world and then, then you noticed.

You noticed that the collar of his oversized tee had slipped down to expose his shoulder, which had an enormous bruise. It was green and violet and nearly theatrical in size; it was nauseating, this bruise on little Luke’s shoulder.

With a shaking voice, you asked, “Luke, where’d you get-“

Luke beelined out of your office and into the hall. You scooted out of your chair and crept behind him, desperate to just get this one secret out. That would be all it took; one admission and Luke could live such a better life.

But as you rounded the corner, you found Luke wrapped around the leg of Grayson Dolan, sobbing profusely into his dress pants. Grayson had a hand on his head, ruffling the curls that dangled above his eyes with the most sympathetic of frowns. And then, Grayson ducked to eye level and enveloped Luke in a bear hug—one as gentle as himself—and nodded along with his warbles.

“Luke, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Grayson pleaded, searching the boy’s eyes.

Luke grabbed ahold of Grayson’s tie and buried his nose into his chest and shook his head. Luke then heaved a deep breath, scrubbed his eyes of well-deserved tears, and bounded off to the cafeteria, grey shirt flowing behind him.

And Grayson stood and watched him scamper all the way down the hall. And then Grayson rubbed at his eyes and turned back into his classroom and closed the door.

-

Luke was sobbing, absolutely bawling in his stiff, creaky chair, and you had absolutely no way to help.

And you felt like such an idiot, because you went to school for this damn it. Seven years of education in counseling psychology and your first patient wouldn't even talk to you after four sessions. But he was crying. And you were doing nothing.

Panic rose in your throat as you realized how useless, how absolutely incompetent you were sitting there, watching Luke wail in his seat. You'd tried; he had stumbled into your office by the guidance of Cory once more and promptly sobbed. You asked him gently, then firmly, why he was upset, what was wrong, how you could help but Luke was deaf to your pleads and questions.

With hardly any direction, you did something thoughtless. Completely, ridiculously senseless.

You hopped from your seat--abandoned Luke in your office--and sped to Grayson Dolan's room down the hall.

You weren't thinking (clearly), you were just doing, acting, hoping something, or someone, could tear down this child's indestructible walls. Because you hadn't stopped thinking about that bruise--that monstrous bruise--since you saw it, and you wanted him to get help. You wanted this kid to have all the love in the world.

So, you clacked down the hall in your heels and scampered up to Grayson's door, knocking tentatively and then urgently. From outside the door, you called, "Grays- Um, Mr. Dolan, I- I know this sounds crazy, but-"

The door swung open to reveal Grayson a pair of wide eyes and a slackened jaw. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? Is that-?"

"I really need you to just, just come with me," you begged, verging tears, grabbing ahold of his forearm and tugging him behind you.

Grayson stumbled behind you, his shoes slapping the linoleum, and rushed up to your side. "Damn, you can walk fast in those heels," he panted to your left. Panicky tears sprung in your eyes and you curled your hand into a fist tight, tight, and pinched yourself a painful distraction. "Hey, what's going on?" Grayson murmured, slow and deep and warm.

You scrunched your face unattractively and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I- Mr. Dolan-"

"(Y/N), it's me. Grayson," he muttered sternly, grabbing your arm and halting the two of you.

You pulled at his hand and said, "No, we need to keep going, I-"

"(Y/N)." he commanded, sternness wired hard in his voice.

You whined oh-so-pathetically and shook your head. "You're going to think I'm such an idiot because I can't do my own job, like I'm over here asking you to do my-"

"You work here?" Grayson asked with a knit in his brows.

With exasperation, you sighed, "Yes. Yes, I'm a counselor and Luke McIver is sitting in my office and-"

"Luke McIver?" Grayson breathed. Without hesitation or a need for any explanation at all, he encased his hand in yours and dragged you down the hall, wordless and worrisome. Tailing behind Grayson (who was obviously handling this much better than you were), you snuck into your office and watched with wonder as he folded himself smaller than Luke, who was still gasping for breaths.  Grayson tucked himself up by Luke's side, wrapped his hands around Luke's forearms and rubbed soft circles in his boney flesh, and said, "Take a deep breath, we aren't going anywhere."

Luke's jaw clamped shut and the last few tears rolled down his rosy cheeks and he nodded his head. Luke felt safe.

His eyes, as doe-ish as they typically were, were soft around the edges. They were usually pried wide; his eyelashes tickled the tops of his brow bones and his beautiful brown irises drowned in a sea of white. He looked alert, always, and his blinks were few and far between. Now, Luke just looked tired. Like he'd never had a chance to just relax. And vulnerable, too. In a good way.

Grayson smiled to him and Luke smiled back. "Luke, we need to talk to you, and we need you to talk to us," Grayson murmured, rubbing a hand down Luke's shoulder.

Luke nodded. Grayson peeked over his shoulder at you and gestured vaguely for you to join them in their little huddle, so you slipped next to Grayson and fell on your knees and left your hands in your lap, far away from Luke. You weren't going to push your luck.

"Luke, how did you get that bruise on your shoulder?" you asked softly.

Grayson grabbed ahold of Luke's shaking hands. Luke said, almost robotically, "I was on the monkey bars and-"

Grayson shook his head. "Luke, please don't lie to me."

Luke's lip quivered and his face crumpled and he collapsed on Grayson's shoulder, burrowed his head into the crook of his neck and cradled himself, let Grayson hold him and just cried. Cried like he deserved to, cried like he wanted to, cried like he had to. Cried so long you had to sneak into the main office and call for a substitute teacher for Grayson's kindergarten class. And that was okay. Luke needed this.

You slinked behind your desk and clicked your pen, dug out your notepad and waited. Waited for Luke to calm down and unfold himself for you--for Grayson.

"She doesn't like when I come here," Luke muttered into the cloth of Grayson's dress shirt.

"Come where, buddy?"

"(Y/N)'s," he whined. "I told her, I told her that it was protected by fairies and wizards and she- she hit me right- right here," Luke blubbered, tugging on his Power Rangers shirt and exposing the battered skin of his skeletal shoulder. Grayson's face fell even more, his eyes downward and his face low. "And she- she told me that- she told me that (Y/N) lied to me and she took my sucker and she stomped on it and- and- and-"

"Luke, is that the only time she's hit you?" Grayson whispered.

"No, Mr. Dolan."

Your throat bobbed with emotion as you scribbled down notes furiously. Your handwriting was godawful and your hand was cramping but you wouldn't stop writing this child's story for the world. Even if it really, really hurt.

"She doesn't like when I come to school, either. She said that- that I shouldn't get all this food and all this heat and that I don't need to be away from home for seven hours. And she-"

You shoved all that emotion down and took the validity out of his words and just wrote. Just wrote, detached and factually.

Grayson had to suck up all the tears, had to soak in all this tragedy first hand. Luke was staring at him like he had all the answers to the world, like Grayson could solve his problems with his bare hands. And Grayson had to act like he could.

After hours of cries and admissions and a whole lot of heartbreak, the final bell chimed in the hall. Grayson turned to you in question, a tear slipping from his eye.

"Luke, can you sit in here for just a second? Just a quick second, we'll be back," you asked, looking at the boy with a cautious smile.

He nodded and you slipped into the hall, beckoning Grayson as you went. Shutting the door as gently as you could, you turned to find Grayson with his head guarded by his hands, his shoulders shaking. "He can't go back," he croaked with a crack in his voice. He lifted his face and it was blotchy and red and tear streaked and he said, "He absolutely cannot go back to that monster."

"I know, I know," you muttered, staring at your heels. "I- I need to make some phone calls and talk to some foster cares around the-"

"No," Grayson interrupted, steel in his tone. "This kid needs someone he can trust. I'll take him."

You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head. "No, that isn't how this works. First, I have to call Morris County human services and have them head over to Luke's house and take his mom into custody, and then I have to go over to Morris County Human Services and find him a caretaker for the next 72 hours.”

"So what, we just drop this kid off? Leave him completely alone? I just told him we wouldn't go anywhere," Grayson growled, flaring his nose.

You pressed your hand to your face with frustration and sighed. "No, I- I couldn't do that to Luke. I don't think I can take him into custody for too long because I'm a conflict of interest, but I'll take him until we can get a judge to sign off on a permanent foster care or a-"

"Luke doesn't need a temporary family. Luke needs a home," Grayson hissed.

Irritation built in your chest and you pinned him with a hard glare. "Do you think I don't know that? How do you think these things work, Grayson, we just throw him into a house, no legal document, no nothing, and send him off?"

"Well, of course not, I don't know what-"

"You're right, you don't. I might not seem like I know what I'm doing, and you've been the best help, but I know what to do now," you spoke evenly. You reached for your office's door handle but Grayson flattened his hand against the wood.

"So what, you're just ditching me? I can't help Luke through this? Last time I checked, I was the only one who could get him to talk, (Y/N). And I just told him I wasn't going anywhere," Grayson fumed, his voice low and cold.

You glanced at your toes and let the wheels turn in your head, round and about, until you sighed and threw caution to the wind. "Okay. Listen, you can... you can come check on him later tonight at my place and whatnot, you can even come to the court hearing. But if he finds a new home, I don't- I can't promise anything, Grayson. This isn't up to me; if it were, I'd just give you the fucking kid."

He breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped a hand around your shoulder, warm and firm and big. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you muttered. "Here's my phone number... and my address..." you mumbled, rifling through the packet of notes you'd scribbled down while listening to Luke and tearing out a stray paper, jotting down both messily. "Now, I really need to get in there and make some phone calls."

-

There you stood, in Morris County Human Services, hand in hand with little Luke McIver. He was willing to hold your hand, which in itself was a feat, but distantly; the two of you were connected by the full lengths of your arms apart. He was staring at the kid's corner in the waiting room, watching an eight-year-old rumble around with dozens of colorful blocks longingly, frowning. Just as you were about to invite him to go play, a county social worker peeked their head out from the hallway. "Ms. (Y/L/N), come with me, please,"

You looked down at Luke and tugged on his palm, tilting your head towards the lady. "C'mon Luke," you encouraged, taking a step in her direction.

The two of you followed her into the narrow corridor, shuffling behind her as she led you past dozens of rooms. "Luke, you can take a seat in this room," she smiled, popping open a door. Inside was a room abundant with toys, games, and books galore. It was prismatic and bright and Luke looked at it with a glint in his big, big brown eyes and hurried inside. And then Luke plopped on a chair in the center of the room, sat all still, and the social worker shut the door before you could promise Luke that he could play with those toys.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), I'm Emily Bradshaw and I have some terrible news," she hushed, leading you down another hall, and then another, halting at a dead end in a secluded corner.

You weren't in the least surprised.

"Luke... has some bad luck, to put it lightly."

I know.

"There's no one we can put him in for custody. His dad's out of the picture, Uncle's a crack addict, Grandparents are dead, his other Uncle's in jail for felony charges and... well, we can't give him back to his mom, obviously. Not after what you told me," Emily murmured. "We don't have a single--and I mean, not a single--person available for this little guy."

You touched your forehead with heartbreak. "No siblings, right?"

"Nope."

"I- Emily, can I take him for the night then?" you asked, biting down on your lip nervously. "He's so fragile, Emily. He hardly trusts me, and it took weeks to get him to even talk in front of me. I don't want him with anyone else, he'll be absolutely scarred."

"(Y/N), I'm afraid you'll have to. Obviously, you can't take him longer than 72 hours, you're a-"

"Conflict of interest, I know. I- I'll look through the records and see if there's anyone in the system worth calling. This is just terrible," you breathed.

"You're telling me. I know this stuff happens all the time, but it never gets easier. God, poor kid," she whistled, scuffing her shoe on the linoleum floor. "You've got him until Monday, cause we can't collect him on Sundays. So, Monday at... 5:00 PM. Just- I know you don't need to be told, but just take care of him, okay? Kid's been through more than we know."

With that, the two of you walked your way back to Luke's playroom and knocked on the door, creaking it open. Inside, Luke sat on his stool, the room left completely as it was.

With a frown, you and Emily crept over to him and squatted to his level. "Luke, I'm going to take you to my house for the next couple days, is that okay?" you asked, tucking the bulk of your hair behind your ear.

He nodded, slipped off his chair, and grabbed your hand.

-

"Luke, just for tonight, we need to go get some PJ's for you, okay?" you offered, glancing in your rearview at Luke, who was strapped in the middle seat of your car.

"It's okay, I can sleep in this," Luke mumbled, playing with his fingers and glancing out the window. He was talking about his massive grey Power Rangers shirt and his teeny brown cargo pants.

You winced and stared at the road again. "Nope, we're getting you some super fuzzy PJs. And hot cocoa."

"What's hot cocoa?" Luke asked.

You shrugged a shoulder and grinned in the mirror. "You'll have to wait and see, Luke."

Inside the store, you stood in the kid's section, ogling the quality of each fleece lined item. You surfed through nautica-inspired, dinosaur patterned, and hot-wheel styled pajamas, entirely lost on what Luke liked best.

"Luke, which design's your favorite?" you asked tentatively.

"It doesn't matter," Luke mumbled, not even bothering to look from where he sat in your shopping cart.

So you grabbed all of them. And a huge, sherpa blanket, and a set of socks and underwear, and then it dawned on you.

"Luke, we're getting you some new clothes, too."

Ignorant to his declines, you ransacked the whole department of hoodies, long enough pants, tees, and finally, a new pair of shoes. And then, you wheeled him to the checkout, paid, and left for home.

-

Maybe: Grayson: It's Grayson, I'm coming over.

You: Bring hot cocoa I forgot to buy some at the store.

Grayson: Okay. On my way!

Your house was oddly fit just for a kiddo. You'd know; you grew up in this house.

Your parents, after a few decades of living in a town as quaint as Long Valley, wanted a little more excitement and up-and-left to New York City once you dashed off to college. They used this house as a summer home, seeing as they'd paid it off, and spent their springs and falls and winters in the boisterous, cluttered metropolis of NYC. You'd only ever be willing to visit.

It wasn't that you hated the city, no, most certainly not. But it was loud. And cramped, yet so big. You loved the familiarity, the peacefulness, the home-ishness of your little Long Valley. So, after completing your masters, you headed back home and paid your parents what they'd take and redecorated your old childhood bedroom.

At the kitchen island, you sat with Luke, bowls of Kraft Mac n Cheese in hands, forks shoveling the noodles by the mouthfuls. It was alarming how fast Luke was eating his dish; he hardly left time for breathing.

"Luke, there's more in the pot, you don't need to-"

You cut yourself off when you realized he was not listening, just eating his meal anxiously, like you'd take it away at any second.

The doorbell rang throughout the building and you hopped off your seat and slipped into the foyer. Greeting Grayson, you said, "Hey, did you bring the hot-"

"Already got it," he said, waving a family-sized tub of the powder. "And some games. How's he doing?"

Glancing at the hallway that led to the kitchen, you shrugged. "Can't really tell. It seems like he doesn't know what's going on, so he's fine. I took him to the store, bought him some new clothes, got him some PJs. But I forgot about the hot cocoa I'd promised him, so thank you for bringing some," you finished, stealing the container from his hands.

"Well, that was nice of you..." Grayson mumbled behind you, following you out to the kitchen.

"What, you think I'm some heathen?" you smirked, eyeing him over your shoulder.

"Mhm, don't act like you weren't the one who put twenty boxes of Orbees in the school's swimming pool our senior year," he snickered, lifting a brow.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, a flame licking the back of your neck. "I can't believe you reme-"

"Hey Luke!" Grayson called, scooting past you and pressing his elbows against the kitchen island.

Luke was sitting there, staring at his empty bowl of mac n cheese in a melancholic state. "Hi Mr. Dolan," he said in that raspy, weak voice of his.

"Luke, you want more Mac n cheese? And some hot cocoa?" you prompted, grabbing the bucket of pasta. Without an answer, you scooped a helping into Luke's bowl and paraded to the refrigerator for some milk to heat. "Gray, you want some?"

Grayson looked your way with a funny grin and said, "Yeah, I can just eat it from the pan."

You shook your head and repressed a smile. "You are gross."

"Why!" Grayson defended, laughing. With a shrug, he said, "I'm saving you a plate, and I'll definitely eat the rest, anyway."

Once you had fixed everyone a mug of hot cocoa, you ushered the boys into the living room where Grayson excitedly dug out a hodgepodge of games, toys, and books. Spreading everything out on the rug, Grayson prompted, "Alright Luke, I was thinking I could teach you how to play Candy Land. Is that okay?"

Luke looked at you, and then at him, and then nodded.

"Cool. So basically Buddy, you get one of these little guys," Grayson said, gesturing to the colorful figures lying dormant in the container. "And you hop on the color of the card you draw, and we go back and forth, and we see who wins. Okay?" Luke nodded. "And there are traps. So, when you draw a card like- like this one," he explained, grabbing a piece with a lollipop on it, "then you get to move to the spot that has the lollipop on it. Which can be good, unless you're ahead of that spot, then you have to move back. It's really fun," he gushed, folding his legs crisscrossed. "I think you'll like it. What'd'ya say?"

Luke looked at the board, studied it hard, and then nodded his head. "Okay."

Gleefully, Grayson shuffled the deck of cards and plucked two characters from the cardboard box and you realized, almost instantly, why he became a kindergarten teacher. He was a kid at heart.

"(Y/N), are you playing?"

You thought about all the things you had to do, all the paperwork you had to fill, all the phone calls you'd have to make for tomorrow, and said, "Yes."

Grayson smiled at you eagerly. "Perfect, three makes it way more competitive anyway. The more the merrier, you know?" he said, reaching for his mug of hot cocoa.

You looked over at Luke's mug and realized he hadn't drunk a drop of his treat. "Luke, you can have some of your hot cocoa if you haven't yet," you smiled, edging his cup towards him.

He looked at you long and hard, his eyes blown wide, and glanced between you in the drink. And then he looked at Grayson, almost for permission, and lifted his skinny arms and grabbed the mug with both hands. He lifted it to his mouth, oh-so-cautiously, and took a tiny sip.

And then he smiled, grinned comfortably.

"This stuff is- this stuff is really good," he said, setting it back. "Thank you."

You looked at Grayson with confusion and said, "Luke, you can have the whole cup if you want."

"I can?"

"Yeah," Grayson smiled, rubbing a hand down Luke's back. "Drink up, Bud."

And Luke did. And you three played Candy Land for hours, Grayson and you both being far too competitive and Luke hanging on for the ride. You won once, Grayson won twice, and Luke won at least five times. Luke's smile just kept growing.

"Alright Luke, I think it's bedtime for you," you said after a bit of celebratory hot cocoa.

"Want some help getting into your PJs, bud?" Grayson offered. Luke shrugged a lame shoulder, his eyes flickering between the two of you.

"Hey, give me some skin," you giggled, bending at the knee and raising your hand for a high-five from Luke. Tentatively, he lifted his hand to yours, smacking it feather light. "You killed it in Candy Land today."

"Sure did," Grayson laughed. "We'll play again soon. C'mon Luke."

And off they went, into your guest bedroom.

You crept back into the kitchen and grabbed your binder full of documents and splayed them all out on the table, organizing them into piles. You loved this job. You realized it when Luke's big wide eyes lit up at the sight of a Licorice Lagoon card and his character clobbered all the way across the board and he just looked happy. Happy like you'd never seen him. And that made all of this heartbreak a little less awful.

You were ruffling through your binder for names of available foster carers with your pen wiggling between your teeth when Grayson tiptoed into the kitchen. "Hey, how was-"

Your voice fell silent when you looked up to find Grayson crying, feeble with his arms tucked tightly around himself.

"Gray, what happened?" you asked hesitantly, twisting your body and giving him your full attention.

He whimpered pitifully and glided over to you, clearly shameless when it came to crying. He laid his forearms on the kitchen island and looked at you through his soaked eyelashes and screwed his eyebrows together and said, "I don't think I can forget that."

You reached out and carefully laid a palm on his arm. "Forget what?"

Grayson wheezed a deep breath and shielded his face with a hand. He mumbled, "There's a reason he wears that giant shirt every day." Grayson wiped the tears from his cheeks and said, "It was like I wasn't even taking off a shirt. It's like, an outline of the shirt, made of bruises. Tan lines, but instead of pale skin it's just green, and blue, and purple."

Unconsciously, you dug your fingernails into the firm flesh of his arm and clenched your jaw, willed yourself from tears.

"And that's no exaggeration. I don't think there was a spot untouched on his skinny, skinny body. His whole torso is just-" Whine. "Covered. I thought I was going to be sick. And he turned around, and his back was no different. It was like this- this fucking monster he calls 'mom' knew exactly how to hide it. Give him a t-shirt big enough, and it'll cover all the marks. God fucking damn it," he sobbed, his voice thick with emotion.

You pinched at his skin, nails deep enough to really hurt, and lowered your head and cried. Let the tears fall with the realization that no number of board games and no amount of hot cocoa could make up for his trauma, physically, mentally, or emotionally. Luke McIver was a punching bag and a kicking post.

You sat there with Grayson and cried quietly. You prayed Luke couldn't hear you; he deserved all the sympathy in the world, but he looked up to Grayson, and you hoped he didn't give up on himself with how sad his circumstances were.

Grayson walked around the island and engulfed you in a hug. You'd hardly registered how strange this might be, hugging a guy you'd barely known since you needed one so bad. You can't just watch these things and shut everyone out. You would start to see that kind of darkness in everyone.

"I'm sorry," Grayson said, his jaw working against your shoulder. "But I really needed a hug."

"It's okay," you said, your head bowed into the crook of his neck. "I really needed one too."

"Can I stop by tomorrow?" Grayson asked.

Yes, he could.

-

Tomorrow meant Friday, and Friday meant school. You didn't have a whole lot of direction when it came to getting kids off to school, but you figured you would do what you typically did; had him hop in the shower, laid out his clean clothes, and fixed him a bowl of cereal. After a few minutes of thought, you packed him a lunch, just in case his lunch account had frozen along with the rest of his mom's assets.

"Luke, are you okay with a turkey sandwich? Or do you want salami?" you shouted into the refrigerator, raiding the drawers for your lunch meat.

After a few moments without a response, you called out, "Luke?"

Panicky, you pulled yourself out of the refrigerator and hurried off to check on him in the guest room. Inside, he stood sopping wet, dripping on your carpet with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. Upon your arrival, he twisted to look at you. "Where are my clothes?" he whispered, looking around the room.

You pointed to the pile stacked on a chair near the bed. "Right over there, Silly," you giggled.

"No, my clothes," he said.

"The grey shirt and the brown pants?" you asked.

He nodded.

"Do you wanna wear those instead? I thought you'd like to wear something warmer, I have a hoodie and some cozy sweatpants on that chair cause it's going to be pretty chilly today," you elaborated, beginning to stress. It was far too cold to wear that Power Rangers shirt and that Power Rangers shirt alone, and you hadn't bought Luke a jacket. You made a mental note to do so.

"But those aren't mine," he said.

"Yes they are, I bought them for you."

"All of those?" he gasped, his eyes bugging at the outfit. And that was just sad.

"All of those, and a few others, too. Now, come on! We gotta get going to school, do you want some help getting into your clothes?" you offered, walking over to the chair and grabbing the stack.

Luke shook his head and you gave him the pieces, leaving the room and fixing his turkey sandwich. By the time you'd packed everything, Luke was waiting silently with his backpack taut on his shoulders. The hoodie was a bit big, but Luke was tiny for his age. The sweatpants looked about right, and the shoes seemed to fit okay. He hardly looked the same in different clothes.

"Ready?" you asked.

Luke was.

-

As your lunch break neared, your foot began pedaling faster in place. You worried about Luke on his first day back: did he miss his mom? Did his clothes really fit? Did he even like turkey sandwiches? After a plethora of anxiety-ridden questions, you hopped from your seat and dashed off to Grayson's classroom.

You knocked on the door softly and waited with a bitten lip. Grayson creaked open the door and you found that the classroom was, in fact, empty, excluding the six-foot tall man hovering in the doorway. "Oh," was all you said. "I thought maybe Luke was here."

Grayson grinned toothily and said, "No, they just went off to lunch and recess, but I'm glad you stopped by."

He opened the door and ushered you in, shutting it and following you inside. "Ramen?" you asked, scrunching your nose as you noticed the cup of noodles sitting next to his school-issued desktop. "How can you eat that after college?"

He smirked and grabbed it, loading a forkful of the stringy, golden noodles into his mouth. "Never get sick of it," he said through bites.

"Charming," you laughed, rolling your eyes. "How's he doing today?"

He munched for a second before nodding, setting the cup of noodles down and sitting on one of the very tiny desks with his legs stretched out comfortably in front of him. "Good. Great, even."

"That's good!" you exclaimed, smiling big.

"It is good," he agreed. "He even talked to a few classmates, which is new for him. They said they liked his shoes."

You weren't sure whether you were devastated that Luke hadn't any friends or ecstatic that he was trying, and that the other kids liked his shoes. That was a personal achievement. "I've been told I'm a fashionista," you drawled, flicking your hair over your shoulder.

"I can tell. You're always wearing those pretty skirts of yours," Grayson smirked, cocking a brow.

Butterflies burst in your stomach and you prayed a blush didn't stain your cheeks. But, judging by Grayson's obvious smugness, you looked just as bashful as you felt.

"Thank you. Um..." you squeaked, not knowing what else to say.

Grayson chuckled at your discomfort and looked out the window. "It was really nice of you to buy him all those clothes. It's too cold to be wearing those- those rags he was wearing before."

You nodded, following his gaze to the gray, gray sky that was brewing something awful outside. "I didn't think he'd fit in one of my sweatshirts," you joked.

Grayson looked at you and grinned kindly. "I don't think he'd look half as good, either."

Your face broke out in a smile and you said, "Okay, stop, you're doing this on purpose," with a laugh.

"Oh definitely, you're cute when you blush," he pushed, enjoying the upper hand far more than he should.

You stared down at the floor and begged the warmth in your cheeks to subside before saying, "You always were a flirt in high school."

Gobsmacked, Grayson gasped. "Me?" he asked incredulously. "No, you're thinking of Ethan, my twin idiot."

You shook your head. "I don't think so, you had everyone at your beck and call..." you trailed off, giving him a lopsided smile.

"Again, Ethan."

"No, it was you, I know that for certain. Grayson Dolan: Long Valley's Golden Boy," you teased, your hands dancing in the air. "Everybody loved you."

Grayson scratched back of his neck and shrugged his shoulders, flattened out his tie. "Yeah, maybe, but I've closed the yearbook. Now I'm just a kindergarten teacher; don't think that makes me too popular," he chuckled, clamping his hands in his lap and grinning up at you.

"You're definitely popular with the kids--if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a little kid sleeping at my house tonight," you said.

"That's way better than homecoming king," Grayson smiled, all warmth and honey. "Knowing I saved a kid from some garbage parent like his."

You nodded thoughtfully, staring back at him. In an effort to preserve the lighthearted mood floating through the air, you joked, "Can't be better than scoring the game-winning touchdown against Rocori though, right?"

Grayson's head fell back with a laugh and he shook his head. "Nothing could be better than that. Should've seen their head coach's face when I caught that ball," he smiled with his teeth full in display.

"I guessed so," you giggled back.

"So what, did you keep tabs on me in high school or something? That's a pretty particular thing to remember, Ms. (Y/L/N)," he smirked, running a hand through his fluffy mane.

Though you were painted in pink, you rolled along. "I already said everybody loved you, Grayson."

The door busted open, dozens of kids flowing through its tiny entrance, clambering about with their squeaky shoes and their uncoordinated legs. "Does everybody include you?" Grayson asked over the roar of the children.

You shrugged a shoulder and grinned with mischief. "Mind if I stay for a bit? I still have half an hour of my lunch and I kinda wanna see Luke in his natural habitat."

"Be my guest," Grayson smiled.

Luke ambled in last, a little pep in his step and a boy jabbering off his ear. Grayson looked as surprised as you.

"Everyone get in your seats, please," he instructed, working his way over to his desk. Glaring playfully at you, he said, "I didn't even get to eat my ramen."

"A shame."

Dropping his styrofoam cup in the garbage, he dusted off his hands and hurried to the front, rolling his dress shirt's sleeves up to his elbows. Without much to do, you slinked your way to the play area and seated yourself in a comically small chair, one clearly fit for a five-year-old.

"Alright everyone, could you please grab a pencil from the center of your desk? We're going to learn about shapes," Grayson announced, his eyes drifting around the room.

Your eyes flickered to Luke who in return was staring at you with his big doe eyes. Nervously, you waved a hand, worried of boundaries once more, and felt a certain sense of pride when Luke waved back to you.

"So guys, let's practice. Can anyone tell me what this is?" Grayson asked, gesturing to the giant triangle fixed on the smart board in the front.

Nearly all the kids' hands shot up, excluding Luke's. There he sat, towards the back, with his hands tucked in his lap.

"Kyra?" Grayson called.

"A triangle!" she cheered, dazzle in her eye.

"Very good, Kyra," Grayson smiled, tapping the board and switching the shape. "And this one?"

Again, Luke sat statuary.

"Tyler?"

"A square!"

You couldn't help but frown as you stared at Luke, lonesome and quiet with his big brown eyes staring blankly at the screen.

"And this last one? Luke?" Grayson asked, eyes weaving through the sea of hands to find Luke.

Luke sat quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly. After a few seconds, all of the students twisted in their seat to stare at him with beady, pressuring eyes. Almost reflexively, Luke spun and looked to you for help. 'Circle,' you mouthed, breathing out the word inaudibly.

"C-C-Circle," Luke spat, grabbing the sides of his desk.

All of the kids turned forward once more and waited for Mr. Dolan's confirmation. "Awesome job, Luke," he said with the proudest of smiles. "Now I have a worksheet for you all and I want you guys to bring it back to class on Monday after this weekend, signed by your parent."

Luke again strained his chin over his shoulder and you nodded back, assuring him you'd sign it, or help it, or just be there.

-

Your Fridays were typically reserved for wine night at your friend Carina's house, but you had no such plans with a five-year-old sitting on your couch. So, you were a little lost on what to do.

"Luke, do you want a snack? I'm not sure what we have in the cupboards, but..." you trailed off, bounding into the kitchen.

You had no use for pudding cups or fruit snacks up until this point, and to your knowledge, all you had was a ginormous can of hot cocoa. You scoured the pantry and found some surely stale Reese's Puffs and prayed he didn't notice once you doused them in milk.

Luke eyed the bowl skeptically, glancing between you and it before eventually scooping the cereal into his mouth. After that, it was a race to drain the bowl, and he was slurping away at the milk. You hardly cared about manners.

Grayson: Can I come over?

Instantly giddy at the idea of Grayson being in any close proximity, you texted him and assured him that would be fine. Luke was still tongue-tied, and you assumed it'd be that way for a long time. Perhaps he'd never grow out of his shyness, and that would have to be okay with you.

Looking at the little boy sitting on your couch, chomping on a spoonful of cereal like it could be his last meal, your heart broke. There was so much you didn't know about him, so much you didn't know about what he went through. You doubted anyone would ever know the full truth besides him and his 'mom.' Just thinking of her in a maternal sense made your tummy lurch sideways; she should have never even considered kids.

But, in some twisted light, you were so glad she did. You'd take a bullet for this little guy on your couch. And you didn't even know how that happened so quickly.

Grayson's knuckles rapped against your front door and you jumped from your spot on the couch beside Luke to allow him in, but by the time you'd gotten there, Grayson was already standing in your foyer in a pair of joggers and a hoodie. It was somewhat strange seeing him out of his office clothes. Frowning, you said, "How did you get-"

"You should really keep this door locked all the time," Grayson said sternly, abandoning his shoes on your welcome mat. "For your safety, and for Luke's."

You rushed over and locked the door behind him, feeling a little naive. "Luke's upstairs, I was going to start on that worksheet you gave everyone today but now that you're here, you can do all the hard work," you grinned.

He rolled his eyes playfully and elbowed your side. "I work all day with little kids and I come back to your place to slave away?"

"Exactly," you laughed. "besides, bold of you to assume I know my shapes."

Grayson chuckled and swept past you, hurrying over to Luke. You heard them greet one another, Grayson's excitable baby voice echoing throughout your house. Content with their situation, you whisked away to your room to raid your closet for something more comfortable. Then, you returned to your kitchen and began searching in your big stack of files for names in the system that would qualify to give Luke the home he needed.

G. Hammend... R. Harick... I. Helpin... Your finger followed down the column, each name seeming drearier and more hopeless.

"Mr. Dolan?" you heard from the other room.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Is (Y/N) your girlfriend?" Luke asked.

Grayson promptly began coughing uncontrollably, hacking and wheezing, and a chill ran up your spine, heat baked the back of your neck. No, you weren't Grayson's girlfriend and his flirting was harmless, but you were curious to know what he'd say, so you leaned in closely and listening keenly to Grayson's next words. "Uh, um, uh Luke it's- it's more complicated than that," Grayson spoke, his voice raspy and cracking.

"How?"

Yeah, how?

"Well, um, I- I don't know how to explain that, Luke."

"Why?"

A giggle escaped past your lips at Luke's determination and Grayson's obvious struggle. "I- I, um,-"

Grayson's stuttering was cut short by a soft rumble overhead followed almost immediately by a burst of lightning. You frowned and glanced at the window, fully aware of the forecast but hopeful that it would blow over. From the looks of the blackened sky, it wouldn't be disappearing anytime soon. Soft pellets of water began showering your room and it's thin shingles, heavy enough to pierce through the silent air. And again, another bit of thunder rolled in.

"(Y/N)?" Grayson called. "You okay?"

As if you'd be in any harm in your own home during a thunderstorm. "Yeah Gray, I'm good. Are you okay?"

There was silence and then a shuffling of footsteps. Then Grayson walked up behind you and said, "We have a problem."

You wheeled around in your chair and furrowed your brows. "What?"

"Luke's afraid of thunderstorms," he whispered, avoiding your eyes.

You slid off your seat and padded into the living room to find Luke tucked in the cushions of your couch, tears streaming soundlessly from his big doe eyes. Your heart wrenched beneath your ribcage and you hurried over, sliding into the spot beside him and grabbing his hands that were shaking in his lap. "Hey Lukey, you doing okay?"

Luke nodded robotically, his nose bouncing and the tears rushing down his face.

"Luke, how can I help?" you asked, stroking the side of his head.

His body went rigid and he shook your hands off him, scooting a few inches away. You felt rejected.

"Hey Bud, do you wanna keep going with our math? Get your mind away from all this noise?" Grayson offered, lifting up his worksheet.

Luke shook his head, tucking in on himself and wrapping his own frail arms around his own frail legs.

"We could maybe watch some TV?" you proposed, cocking your head towards the flatscreen. It seemed like Luke's ears might have perked up at this. He stared at you silently with his big brown eyes and asked for permission, even though you'd just offered. "Yeah, we can watch some TV," you said. "Do you like cartoons?"

Luke just stared, but you got the message. You'd learned his mannerisms over the past twenty-four hours. Flicking on the television, you surfed through the channels in search of a good cartoon before landing on Scooby-Doo.

"Have you ever seen this show?" Grayson asked, nudging Luke.

He shook his head, and you three fell in silence, watching the show chase across the screen.

Lost in thought, you began to wonder if this would be the case for every kid, or just Luke. Would you always take the kids in for 72 hours? Or was Luke just special for you? How often would this happen? Was Grayson always good with the little kids? Could he be a reliable source if you couldn't get them to budge?

Probably not, you decided. You felt incompetent and useless and downright stupid caving and fleeing to Grayson for aid. Not that you regretted it.

Would Grayson ever talk to you after this? Was this just for Luke, or was there some friendship between you two? Or maybe something more?

Probably not, you decided again. Sneaking a glance at him, engrossed in the show, you decided, definitely not. He might not be Long Valley's golden boy any longer, but he was still far, far out of your league.

"It's definitely the bank teller," Grayson said with complete certainty. "He's hijacking his own bank so he can take all the money but remain seemingly innocent."

You stifled a giggle and eyed him incredulously. "For sure, Gray."

"It is!" he whined, pointing at the screen excitedly. "You just wait and see."

"Luke, who do you think it is?" you asked, bumping him with your elbow.

Luke looked between the two of you and then said, so quietly, "Whatever Grayson said."

-

As the night dragged on, so did the storm. Eventually, the power surged out and left the three of you sheathed in blankets, surrounded by candles, and playing Candy Land in the dim glow. Conversation was limited and gentle; Luke was exceptionally scared, though he was too nervous to voice his concerns. So, he just sided up next to Grayson and shielded himself under Gray's big, long arm.

"Grayson, there's no way you're driving home in this weather. You can't," you said with finality, craning your neck to sneak a glance at the buckets of water blurring the sky.

Grayson nodded in agreement, moving his figurine several spaces forward. "Yeah, I don't think so either. Can I sleep on the couch?"

After a moment of thought, you nodded and hopped from your spot under a mound of blankets to fetch him a few pillows. Glancing at the clock, you noticed it was nearing the bedtime you'd given Luke, so you waddled on down to the living room to deliver the mournful news. "Lukey, it's time for bed."

It seemed Luke was unordinary in every sense because he didn't fight you on it. He simply unwrapped Grayson's arm from around his shoulders and glided past you to the guest room.

"He's a quiet one," Grayson noted, tugging his blankets tight on his body.

"Yeah," you agreed quietly, staring down the hallway Luke had slipped through. "I don't know if that'll go away or not."

"I'm going to go read him a bedtime story," Grayson said, his voice gentle and kind.

As he trailed after Luke, Where the Wild Things Are in hand, you decided that maybe everything about Grayson was gentle and kind. You saw it in the way he talked to children, the way he never raised his voice, the way he laid a hand on any person he talked to, his palm huge and warm and soft, just for reassurance. Grayson was a gentle giant with his intimidating stature and his ginormous muscles; he'd never hurt a fly.

You listened to Grayson's voice float through the air, speaking of monsters and trolls tucked in the thickets of trees, and felt a flutter in your chest.

At last, you heard Grayson mumble his goodnights and the creak of footsteps on your hardwood. He hobbled his way to the couch, plopped down, and patted this seat beside him. Sheepishly, you tiptoed over and flopped into the space next to him, your blanket tightly secured around your figure. After a few beats of silence, of you two just staring at each other, you said, "I don't know who is worthy of taking in that boy."

Grayson shook his head, his lips pursing for a moment. "I don't think anyone is. Well, anyone besides you."

You stared down at the cushions with their plain brown fabric, scrunching your brows together. "I don't think I'm very good at this, actually." He snorted about you and you shot him a glare. "I'm serious."

"Maybe, but you're wrong," he argued loftily. "I don't think that kid has ever felt so much love in his life."

You shrugged a limp, lame shoulder. "Probably not, but that's just because any love is better than none. I just don't think I'm handling this well. I'm not sure he really likes me."

Grayson smiled crookedly and cocked his head to the side. "I think he likes you. You guys can talk without even speaking," he noted.

A smile worked its way onto your lips. "Yeah, there's that. But... I'm not trying to take it personally, the kid's been through way more than we know. But I just wish he liked me. It feels like he just tolerates me," you breathed, scratching at your arm.

"Well, he agreed with me that you're pretty, so there's that," Grayson smirked, watching you duck your head in embarrassment.

"Well that's nice of you two..." you muttered, tugging your sherpa around you tighter.

"No, it's just a fact. You're pretty, (Y/N)."

Suddenly, your blanket was entirely unnecessary, because your body was overheating with this romantic attention from Grayson Dolan himself. His eyes burned your skin and his body, a few inches away from you, was like a furnace. "You're pretty, too."

It came out croaky and strangled, but you meant it. You had eyes, after all.

Grayson chuckled, his dimples full in display. "Thank you," he whispered.

Then, you were sharing an awkward beat where he was looking at you and you were staring at the ground with complete determination. And then, you were hopping from your spot and hurrying into the kitchen to grab your binder, ignorant to Grayson's laughter.

"You need to help me find someone worthy of fostering this kid," you breathed, discarding the blanket altogether.

And so the two of you sat there well into the night, flicking page after page, name after name, hopeful to find a soul kind enough for a soul as vulnerable as Luke's.

-

It had to still be night when you awoke, startled, to the shadow of a boy standing in your doorway. You'd seen enough horror films to know that this meant imminent death, but after rubbing your eyes once, twice, you noticed it was just Luke.

"Hey buddy?" you called out, folding yourself upright. "What's up?"

Luke was holding the blanket you'd purchased for him a few days ago in his tiny hands, his knuckles white. "The storm," was all he whispered.

The storm. The wind was whooshing and swirling in every which way, tossing branches into each other and smattering rain against your rooftop. How do you fix that? You couldn't just ring up Mother Nature and tell her to calm down.

"Um," you mumbled, glancing around the room. "Do you- do you want to sleep in here?" you offered, patting the spot beside you. Luke stood and waited for about a minute before slowly creeping toward the empty half of the bed, hoisting himself up on it and peeling back the covers. He turned his back to you, crumpled his knees into his chest, and lied there silently. You had half a brain to screen him with his blanket and tuck it around his small, small body, and then the two of you went to sleep.

-

Slow like a sloth, you opened your eyes and blinked slowly, lazily, letting them adjust to the sunlight pouring through the windowpanes of your bedroom. You'd hardly registered that your jaw was tucked on top of a little boy's head, or that your arm was secured around his tiny frame. He fit perfectly in the cave of your belly, the two of you just a large ball in the middle of your bed, blankets and all.

You lifted your head to see Grayson standing in your doorway, his shoulder pressed against the door frame easily, a smile on his lips. "Morning."

Grayson Dolan standing in your doorway when you first wake up. Now that was a concept high-school-you would have snorted at.

"Morning," you whispered, careful not to wake up Luke. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven. I was thinking we could all go and get breakfast at the Gingerbread Café," Grayson offered, still gazing warmly at the nest in your bed.

"God, that sounds amazing. Okay, let me get dressed and-"

"No! You have to go in your PJs! That's like, law," Grayson argued instantly.

You glanced down at yourself in your reindeer, well-worn pajamas and shrugged. There was no use arguing; you'd never get out of those pajamas unless absolutely mandatory.

You nodded and unraveled yourself from Luke, shook his shoulder gently, and then zipped out of your home, into the Gingerbread Café and played the best game of iSpy over bacon and eggs.

-

Again that afternoon, you sat on your coach, rifling through sheet after sheet of names of foster carers.

"I don't even recognize one of these names," you whined, flipping a page.

"Me neither," Grayson agreed.

Luke was tucked in the corner of the living room, legos crowding the floor in a clutter. He'd actually been playing with them, to both Grayson's and your astonishment.

"And you don't have any like, social worker friends? Nobody that you know?" Grayson asked, lifting a brow.

"No, I'm brand new to this, Grayson,"  you defended. "Literally the only person I've met in this town that knows anything about social work is Nancy Hoff-" You dropped the book of files you were holding, your blood surging through you. "Nancy Hoffmann! Oh my god, how could I forget Nancy! Oh my god, oh my god," you squealed, jumping to your feet.

"Nancy Hoffmann does social work? No way," Grayson gasped.

"Yes! Yes, she said she's in the system, go look, please, please, go look!"

"N. Hoffmann, right under I. Helpin," Grayson grinned, gazing up at you with hope, hope, hope in his eyes. "Are you going to call her?"

"Yes," you stated, digging out your phone and beelining for your room. "I'm going to call her right now."

And you did. And Nancy was so excited to take care of a little one, especially a little one like little Luke McIver, that she started to weep. And you started to cry. You could have flooded the whole room with your tears. And you absolutely hoped and prayed Luke's life would look up.

-

Later that Saturday night, once Luke was in bed and you and Grayson sat tight on your couch watching reruns of vintage Scooby-Doo episodes (and trying desperately to guess who the villain was each time), Grayson turned to you and asked, "Wanna get ice cream sometime?"

His words alone sent a chill down your spine, cold and then hot, warmth sticking to the back of your neck. "No," you blurted.

And you could see the hurt flinch on his face, the emotions vivid in color on his sleeve. But there was a problem.

"I feel- I feel like it would look... unprofessional, right now, to date a coworker, especially after I royally fucked up with this whole Luke thing. Call it a Fluke," you giggled nervously, biting your lip. "I- Grayson, you know I would love to, you can probably tell how nervous you make me, but this seems just... It just seems unprofessional, especially when I still have Luke in my custody."

Grayson's eyes softened. "Well, what about when Luke's out of your custody? Can we get ice cream then?"

Your hands twitched nervously in your lap. "I... we would still be coworkers, Grayson," you whispered, holding onto your willpower by a thread.  

He inched forward, invading your space in a way that left you gulping.

"We would, wouldn't we? We'd be coworkers just like half of the teachers in this school that are married to other teachers," he murmured, inches from your face.

His body heat radiated onto yours and you worried for a moment that you'd melt right into that sofa. "You think about it," he finalized, smirking and rising from his seat. "Or, sleep on it. I'm heading home."

He thundered into the foyer and slipped on his shoes and glanced back at you, who was hiding behind the hallway's bend. He grinned, shucked on his hoodie, and headed outside.

Were you just going to let this go?

Certainly not.

You dashed out behind him, waving your arms in the headlights of his car manically, acting like a real loon. You skipped over to his car and waited for him to roll down his window, itching to just spit it out. "I don't have to think, I'd love to get ice cream with you, coworkers be damned."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he chuckled, grinning up at you. "I'll see you tomorrow to introduce Nancy and Steve to Luke. Sleep tight, (Y/N)."

-

You awoke again with Luke cradled under your arm and a knocking at your door. Grayson was undoubtedly up at the crack of dawn every day, which would explain why he was pounding on your door at eight in the morning. Both groaning, you and Luke rolled out from under the covers and padded lazily through the halls, separating at the living room where Luke crawled into the nest of blankets jumbled on the couch as you traveled to the entryway to let Grayson in.

"Hey," he announced when you dragged open the door. Glaring at him, you wordlessly spun on your heel and shuffled into the living room. "Don't tell me you're mad because I woke you up," he laughed, on your heels.

You opened your mouth to protest when Luke said, "Yes."

You and Grayson exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. "Luke has spoken, and I agree. Yes, Grayson."

You hobbled over to Luke and curled up next to him on the sofa, stranding Grayson alone to stand and watch.

"What time are we all heading over to Nancy and Steve's?" Grayson mumbled to you, eyeing Luke cautiously.

You sucked in a breath and decided that this was a good time to introduce the idea to Luke. "Lukey," you announced. "we think we found you a good home for a little bit, okay? Would it be okay if we met with them later?"

Luke looked at you uncertainly and said, "No more sleeping with you?"

Your heart dropped into your stomach with the reality that Luke may have gotten too attached--that you may have gotten too attached. "No more sleeping with me," you mumbled, your lower lip jutting out reflexively. "I- but Luke, I'll still visit all the time, promise. And we'll still have our weekly counseling sessions, and-"

"Will Mr. Dolan still visit?" Luke asked, staring at you, his eyes flickering momentarily to Grayson.

"I..." you trailed off, unwilling to make that promise.

"You know it, Kid," Grayson said, squatting to Luke's height. "I'll be over with Candy Land all the time."

"So what do you say?" you asked, grabbing for Luke's hand.

Luke squeezed back and said, "Yes."

And so you went to Nancy's.

The Hoffmann's yanked open the door before you could even knock, dressed in their best formal gear, and you glanced down at your jeans and hoodie and winced. This was why you weren't very good at this stuff. "Welcome!" they cheered, ushering the three of you inside. Nancy gave you a sidelong look as Grayson filed in behind you, a glint in her eye.

Luke was holding onto your hand tight, tight, tight, and you bent down and picked him right up, setting him on your hip. "Luke, this is Mr. and Mrs. Hoffmann," you introduced, pointing to each of them respectively. "Mr. and Mrs. Hoffmann, this is Luke McIver." Luke clung to your sweatshirt's fabric, fisted the material and pulled himself closer. "Don't be shy Luke, say hi," you said.

They waved brightly, big smiles on their faces and Luke waved back.

"Everybody can come to the living room, we have fruit snacks and pudding cups," Nancy said.

You knew they'd be better than you already.

-

On Monday, the five of you (Luke, Grayson, Nancy, Steve, and you), caravanned to the Gingerbread Café with a court document in your briefcase with plans to head over to court after, skipping school entirely, much to Luke's (and your) excitement. Once you arrived at the courthouse, you met with Luke's assigned social worker, Emily, the judge, and that was it.

Standing in the echoey area, the judge asked, "Are all parties present?"

Glancing around at the tiny, tiny group, you giggled. "Uh yes, Your Honor," you said with complete seriousness.

"Who is the legal guardian in question?" she asked, scanning over her document. "Is Alexa McIver here?"

You bit on your lip and said, "No, Your Honor, she's currently in custody."

"Alright," she nodded. "Who is the present carer, and the preferred foster carers?"

"Um, I'm the current carer and Steve and Nancy Hoffmann are the foster carers," you said, pointing to the couple standing beside you. They waved giddily, hardly pressured by the legalities.

"Okay," the judge said, a lack of formality in her tone. "Let's get this show on the road."

The judge handed over a packet, 'In the matter of the welfare of Lucas McIver: CHIPS/EPC' titling the top. Beneath it was what seemed like hundreds of documents, all waiting for their own special signature from their own special foster parents, Nancy and Steve Hoffmann.

And after half an hour of "sign here"s and "initial here"s, the judge turned to Nancy and Steve and said, "By the law of Long Valley, I formally grant Steve and Nancy Hoffmann full foster care custody of Lucas Christopher McIver. Court, dismissed."

And you turned to Nancy and found her with tears in her eyes and you turned to Luke and found him with one big, toothy grin.

"Time for ice cream, everybody!" Nancy squealed, throwing her arms around you tightly.

You shared a smirk with Grayson and said, "Definitely."

"(Y/N)," Luke said, tugging on your pants.

"Yeah Luke?" you said, ducking to his level.

Luke leaned in close and cupped his hand around your ear. "My favorite color is yellow."

-

You sat at Moo's with a cone of cookie dough ice cream in hand, chatting with livelihood with the group. It was, by definition, perfect. Grayson kept sneaking glances at you, looking away when you caught him, dimples dotting his cheeks. Nancy and Steve demanded--and more miraculously, received--a full autobiography from Luke himself, as shy as he was. What his favorite class was (which, to Grayson's dismay, was not any of his, but instead gym class), what his favorite animal was, and so on.

Luke offered you a taste of his delicious cookies 'n' cream ice cream (in exchange for a lick of your own, of course) and grabbed for your hand a few times. It was bittersweet to have him be so affectionate right as you were about to let him go.

When five o'clock rolled around, the Hoffmanns said, "Staying true to our legal work, we are removing Mr. McIver from your custody," with all formality and then some.

Giggling, you nodded. "Take 'im away, coppers."

Luke turned to you and wrapped his arms tight around your neck and you kissed his cheek and willed yourself not to cry. This was so, so good for him.

"Do you guys need a ride home?" Steve offered, seeing as you all banded together to get to court and Moo's.

You opened your mouth to graciously accept when Grayson said, "Nah, we can walk."

Looking at him excitedly, you clamped your mouth shut and nodded, a ditzy grin on your mouth.

"Right," Nancy chuckled. "Well, we'll be on our way then, bye everyone!"

"Goodbye Luke, see you tomorrow!" you cheered, waving him away.

Watching the car zip out of the parking lot, you sat beside Grayson, your senses heightened with anxiety. "And then there were two..." Grayson joked, leaning back in his seat. "Ready for our date?"

You turned to him and shook your head, gleeful and nervous. "Yeah, I could use another cone," you giggled. "Even if it's freezing out and we have to walk home now."

"I'll keep you warm," he smiled, propping his chin on his fist.

You were sure the butterflies bursting in your stomach or the blush staining your cheeks was more than enough to keep you steaming hot.

-

As you walked down the pavement, slow as snails, Grayson tangled your fingers together. It was adrenaline inducing, holding hands with Grayson Dolan. You had your third helping of ice cream in your hands, licking stripes of it and scuffing your shoes down the sidewalk.

"What is that?" you asked, pointing to the cone in Grayson's hand.

"I don't know, actually," he shrugged, swiping his tongue across the treat. "I couldn't read some of the names so I just pointed to whatever looked promising."

"What do you mean, you couldn't read the names?" you giggled, your brows furrowing. "They're right on the glass."

Grayson nodded, fully aware of that. "I know, but I have dyslexia, I can hardly read at all," he snorted.

"You have dyslexia? I didn't know that," you said, licking a long dribble of ice cream.

"Yeah, why else do you think I teach kindergarten? I'm constantly relearning the alphabet," he joked, snorting and smiling to himself.

You giggled and said, "Well, I don't know, maybe just to make vulnerable elementary counselor's swoon," taking a jab at flirting smoothly.

He looked at you with a blush and a grin. Silence fell over, but not the uncomfortable kind. You could walk sidewalks as the sun set and eat ice cream for the rest of your life with Grayson. The thought alone stirred the frenzy of butterflies in your belly.

"You know, I always thought you were gorgeous in high school," Grayson murmured, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Oh, shut up, no you didn't," you groaned, smacking him with your shared fist.

"No really, I did! And you went to prom with Alec Jenson and I was so mad," he moaned, throwing his head back for dramatics. "I beat myself up over it for like, a month."

You shook your head, gazing far off in the other direction. "You're a terrible liar."

But Grayson wasn't lying, and he made sure you knew it. He halted in place, tugging you back to him. "I'm not lying, I'd be an idiot not notice someone like you," he breathed. "And I definitely know that now."

You bit down on your lip to contain an enormous grin, one the size of the sun glowing in the distance, and looked into Grayson's soft honey eyes. Time slowed down, the world dimmed around Grayson, and all those other cliches. And then, he was dipping in close and kissing you with sugar-sticky lips and soft and gentle, just as you'd imagined. Absent-mindedly, you went to weave your arms around his neck and then realized you had dropped your ice cream in order to do so.

"I-" you panicked, eyes wide and glancing down at the ground. Grayson's shoes were splattered with your cookie dough ice cream, wet and sticky. "Oh my god, I'm so-"

A boom of laughter sounded from Grayson and he shook his head. "They're already messy. Now get back up here, I'm not done kissing you."

You were more than happy to oblige.

-

A year and change later, you tapped your foot outside of the Hoffmann's home, Grayson by your side with party hats adorning the crowns of your heads. You had a cake in your hands and Grayson held four gifts, each stacked wonkily on each other. "Think they went out for his birthday?" Grayson asked, his breath fogging in the chilly December air.

"No, they told me they'd be here! God, it's fucking fr-"

"Hey!" Nancy greeted, pulling open the door. "Sorry, the oven was going off and Steven couldn't find the-"

"It's okay, don't worry," you giggled, stepping inside the home. "It wasn't too cold." Grayson leaned over and pinched your side, confronting your lie. "Where's Lukey?" you asked, your head moving about to look for him.

"He's in the living room surrounded by presents. Steve and I went kind of overboard," she chuckled.

You wandered into the living room after setting the cake down on the kitchen table, eager to spend some time with your favorite little boy and even more excited to give him his gifts. Grayson and you had also spoiled him with lego sets, hot wheels tracks, and a homemade ice cream maker. And, well, something else.

"How's the birthday boy?!" you greeted, opening your arms for a very hyper Luke to jump into.

He wrapped his legs around your waist and pulled you as tight as he could against him, his cheek pressed into yours. He had definitely grown since the last time you held him; you could barely handle the weight.

"Good!" he yelled.

"Luke, inside voice," Steve chastised from the couch, a familiar grin on his face.

"Right, sorry," he said.

"Do you want to open some presents or what, Kid?" Grayson offered, setting down the tall stack.

Luke nodded giddily, detangling himself from you and seating himself on the carpet. One by one he plucked the wrapping paper off, his gasps getting bigger and bigger with every present until he reached the last one. "What's this?" he asked, spinning the fabric in his hands.

"It's a Power Rangers sweatshirt," you said, gesturing to the item. "If you don't like it, we can return it."

"Just like my old one," he gaped. "Is it my old one?"

"No," Grayson explained, "but it's the same design, just warmer. And it'll fit you nicer."

Luke nodded and then slipped the clothing over his head, stuffing his arms through the sleeves. There he was, seven-years-old and yet so, so different. He still had his big brown eyes and his messy, floppy curls, but his face was full and his body was healthy and his mind was creative and open. He was Luke McIver as you'd always wanted to see him; human.

Before you could cry, you said, "Luke, you look handsome!"

"Do I?" he asked, glancing down at himself.

"Sure do, Honey. Now, we have one last present for you," Nancy said, exchanging a look with Steve.

She handed over a little envelope to Luke and he pulled out a slip of paper. "Would... you be... our son? What does that mean?" he asked, reading slow and brokenly.

Your hands flew to your mouth with excitement and love, and you decided crying was the only option at that point.

"Luke," Steve began, grabbing his wife's hands. "Luke, we want to be your parents. Like, forever," he chuckled.

"I thought you already were?" Luke said, glancing around the room with confusion.

"No, Honey, you get to choose if you want us to be or not. We completely understand if not," Nancy said, her voice quavering.

Grayson pulled you into him and you could tell he was holding back a spout of tears. He kissed the top of your head and waited.

"Oh. Well then, yeah. Yes," Luke said.

And by the following Monday, he was little Luke Hoffmann.

[dxlansfxck]

Saints & Sins [G.D] - Part 1

Summary: there's nothing that pisses Y/N off more than her own life. her family is highly religious, wealthy and nothing she'd consider fun. her surrounding is boring, but once the new guy, grayson, decides to sit right next to her, Y/N enters a new world filled with romance & fun. little did she know that this kind of fun had his shadow side to it.

Warnings: DRUG ABUSE!, this story is all about drugs, sex & a toxic relationship, if you don’t like stuff like that, you probably shouldn’t read this.

00 - Prologue

„I don’t get it, y/n! What did we do to you? How could you end up like this?”, her mother broke down in tears while looking down at her dirty, probably disgusting smelling self, “You’re the worst that could have happened to our family! Just because you needed to fall in love with this Grayson guy. The devil has sent him to test you, but you failed. You sinned just to receive a bit of pleasure instead of listening to your god!” She’s talking herself into some kind of rage but she isn’t even listening, ignoring her own mother like she did the past few months.

God here, god there. That’s all her family talks about, this weird guy that seems to live in the sky and watches us living. But how could she think him or Jesus when her mind is full of other things. Like her next shot. “Y/N, I can’t believe it! You’re not even listening to your own mother. I need to call the church so they can send father Louis to us, he needs to clean your mind! He needs to get those demons out of your thoughts.”

Suddenly, she starts praying, which Y/N’s opportunity to get out of here. She slowly walks back into her room, ignoring the cold floor on her naked feet, closes the door and smirks at the beautiful boy that’s already laying in her dirty bed. “Took you long, babe. Did your mother tell you I’m the devil’s son again? That I came straight from hell to ruin your life? Why don’t you listen to her, angel? Why won’t you leave me for your own sake?”, his fingers trail over her lips, making her already weak to the bones. Grayson chuckles, his still very muscular chest rising. His voice is full of sarcasm while his lips form the devilish grin that made her fall for him long time ago. Meanwhile, he takes the old, rusty utensils from the nightstand and slowly pours the white powder on top of the spoon. As soon as she sees his actions, her mind goes crazy and her tiny, destroyed body starts to shake from the sudden pain she feels. But Grayson takes his time preparing his own shot, holds the lighter under the spoon painfully slow.

“For fucks sake, hurry!”, her raspy voice breaks, but she bets he understood what she was saying, he just didn’t want to listen. “Gray, I can’t wait anymore!” Her cold hands were starting to shake so badly, that she was sure she couldn’t even prepare her own shot anymore but she knew Grayson, he wouldn’t do it for her, the were far past this point and he didn’t even wanted her to start this anyway. “If you’ve got enough time to prepare it that slowly, hand it over! I need it now! You know that once I’m on turkey I can’t do it myself. GIVE IT TO ME!”, she tries to rip the improvised belt out of his hand, but he just pushes her away with his foot before ramming the needle in his veins. A few seconds later, his eyes were already closing while a soft smile appears on his lips.

“Fucking son of a bitch”, she mostly mutters to herself before pulling the needle out of his arm and starts preparing her own shot of happiness. She didn’t even bother to clean the needle, if they didn’t get ill from sharing by now, it’ll probably never happen.

Her hands won’t stop shaking while cooking the substance on the dirty spoon and it gets even worse while she was trying to get it into the needle. She nearly dropped everything while searching for a good enough vein, trying not to shoot into the scar tissue, but after a few misplaced shots, she finally gets a good one that beams her somewhere else before falling asleep on Grayson’s chest.

01 - Grayson Bailey Dolan

Her life is boring. Not interesting at all. She’s been in this Christian boarding school ever since she was 6. Now she had to change to a Christian college and to be honest: it really fucking sucks.

She needs to take religion classes every day, visit the college  church every Sunday and her parents seem to be the most boring humans on earth.

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re coming late to Biology!”

Have I already mentioned that her classmates suck as well? She’s never seen someone coming late to class, it’s always been her and always her. By her, I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Ugh, she knows it could’ve been worse, because there’s a guy sitting in front of her called Thaddeus, I mean… You probably know what I mean.

After lunch – strictly vegetarian, of course – and without any motivation left, she attempted the last class of the day. Her uniform was already loose because she had opened the first two buttons of her blouse, the tie hanging loosely around her neck. Which college had uniforms anyway? This was a fucking cult.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could you please put your feet back on the holy ground instead of the table? Or do you want to clean it afterwards?” Y/N huffs in annoyance, placing her feet back in front of her. Instead of mocking the teacher, she gets interrupted by the door swinging open loudly. None of those fuckers would come late to class, but nobody heard of a new student joining them. The guy that walks in seemed a bit older, he was taller and… built. He was a giant, broad shoulders, thick thighs and you could tell through his uniform shirt, that his chest was phenomenal.

“My lovely students, this is Grayson Bailey Dolan. His parents moved here from New Jersey, please don’t be rude to him! I bet he’d be glad to know all of you. Grayson Bailey, why don’t you tell the class more about yourself?”

Grayson Bailey Dolan, as the teacher told them, didn’t seem to be very affected by anything. He studies every single face, which gives Y/N the opportunity to study his. A mop of bleached hair, narrowed eyebrows and brown eyes that had the same annoyed look as hers. His plump lips were pressed into a line, probably hiding a rude commentary to his introduction.

“It’s Grayson. And I don’t see the point in introducing myself, wouldn’t want to make friends anyway.” His deep voice didn’t surprise her at all, while he begins walking towards the only empty chair – which of course led to be the one next to Y/N. She fought for this place for about two years, she would never share it. Not with him, not with anyone. “I want to sit alone”, she spat. “And I don’t care.”

“Alright, the seat next to Ms Y/L/N is empty as you already saw. Now, tell us about your hobbies, your favorite book, don’t be shy!”, their teacher still tries to make him talk, but Grayson just huffs in annoyance. “No hobbies, I don’t read, just look at the pictures, and for that I prefer the dirty ones, you know?”

“Oh, okay, well… Anyways, we’re going to start with our next topic which will be DNS and genetics. I’ll show you a little short film and you have to take some notes so we can discuss it later on. Have fun with our little friend Geni!”

With that, the teacher started some stupid clip of an alien called Geni that wants to teach genetics while being funny. Didn’t work out that well.

“Hey, is she always like that? She seems to be a bit sick in the head.” Grayson’s voice drags Y/N out of her thoughts, and she was surprised that he decided to talk to her. She shrugs her shoulders while muttering a quick “dunno”. She feels his eyes burning through her body while he was obviously checking her out, so she kept starring at him. “Is there something interesting to see? You should focus on Geni, our little friend, not my unbuttoned blouse.” With that, she continued studying his face, his jawline was very strong in contrast to his hallowed cheeks. His eyes seem to be tired because they’ve always been kind of closed while his gaze is starring somewhere else.

Just in the moment he was about to open his mouth, the teacher screams “Well that was fun! Never been so amused while learning important lections! Ha, Geni is a genius. I hoped you wrote down anything important so we can discuss them in the next lesson. Have a night evening and I hope everyone will be there to cheer on our hockey team, they have their first official match today!”

 Soon, the classroom is empty, and everyone is inside their dorms. Y/N changed into something more comfy before sitting down on her desk while painting with her new oil colors.

“Wow, damn! This is sick! Looks like some kind of a trip. Do you draw often? I mean, of course you do, it looks so fucking good!” Y/N got so terrified that she nearly fell out of her chair, then she realized it was Grayson standing right next to her, his eyes on the piece of paper in front of her.

“Ehm, hi Grayson? Nice to see you, I guess, but that’s my room?” “Hi, cool room. I like your style, fits mine”, he points to her pair of joggers while opening and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sits down on the bed which hasn’t had an owner. Yet.

“Anyways, this college sucks. I mean, it really bloody sucks. Teacher and students. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, but you know how it is. Everyone seems to be manipulated by god, it’s really scary. Well, I live here now, but I gotta go. See you later, alligator.”

He was soon gone and Y/N was more than confused. She was a girl, living in a dorm, not knowing there was any chance to have a boy as a roommate. Of course, sometimes boyfriend and girlfriend were able to share a room, but most of the time, it was strictly separated. Shrugging the thought off, Y/N prepared her stuff for a quick shower, still thinking about Grayson Bailey Dolan and the impact he’s going to have on her life.

 The next morning already starts with a surprise, it seems like Grayson Dolan hasn’t been in there the entire night. His suitcase and most of his clothes are still spread across his bed. This boy was such a mystery.

Not even an hour later, Y/N finds herself in the first class of the day, not listening to what the teacher said, drawing in her notebook again. “Do you always draw that stuff? I mean, yesterday, today, literally all the time. Not that it bothers me, I really like it. But I wanna know what’s in your head.” She was kinda pissed about Grayson’s presence that she couldn’t ever answer his question. “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you’re listening to that bullshit this nun is talking about. And since you’re a student here, you should be drawing churches or the holy ghost or I don’t even know. But for sure not that”, he points to the burning people she drew, burning in the purgatory and her cheeks got instant red.

“Where were you last night? When I woke up I found your suitcase on your bed, just like you left it yesterday. Listen, those professors are so fucking strict, I don’t want to lose this place, okay? And one of their simplest punishments is scrubbing the church floor – which I don’t want to do either because there will be 20 Jesus figures watching you. And..” “Y/L/N, Dolan! This lesson is more precious than your conversation, seems like I have to inform both of your parents. Detention, both of you!” Their fat, disusting teacher interrupts them.

After 4 more hours of maths and religion, Y/N practically runs into her room, Grayson Dolan right behind her. “Y/N, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you angry ‘cause of the detention? Listen, I’m kinda sorry, but it’ll be just two hours of sitting there, it could be worse. And why is the ugly rat calling our parents? Y/L/N are you even listening?” She feels Grayson’s large hand on her shoulder, but shrugs it off. “Hm? Yeah, sure I am.” “You’re weird, but oh well. Are you hungry? Should we head out to Subway or McDonalds? We still have a bit of time left before detention starts and I’m starving.”

The girl is looking up to him, confusion written on her face. “Leaving? The only time you’re allowed to leave is between 3 and 7. Lunch is in the canteen, but the food is vegetarian.”

Grayson’s eyes widen in shock. “Vegetarian? Seriously? Dude, this is torture! How are you even alive?” “Dunno, never had meat, never wanted to, it’s dead animals. That’s disgusting. There’s plants for a reason, y’know?” “Sick”, Grayson nods. “Hey, Y/N! Why can’t ants go to church? ‘cause they’re insects. In-sects! Understand?”, he laughs so hard that he needed to sit down on his bed, holding his stomach. Y/N on the other hand opened the bible on her desk. “Haha, funny”, she mumbled and began to write down the daily phrases they needed to hand in the next day.

“Have you ever drunk alcohol? Or smoked? Oh, you hesitated, you’re a literal virgin. In everything! We need to change that, but first: lunch!” He drags her by her tiny hands and almost runs into the dining hall. “What’s that smell?”, he scrunches his nose, looking confused. “I don’t even know, it always smells like cabbage, but there’s never cabbage in the meals. You need to get the vegetable burger, but never the vegetable sausages. Everything with noodles or potatoes is fine, salad is okay but the soups are disgusting, got it? We can go to the city later on and find something better for you.” They both decided on getting the burger and while Y/N bites into it, Grayson takes a bite of the fries, then scrunches his nose again and adds half a bottle of ketchup onto them.

“I can show you around then, but there aren’t any cool stores to buy clothes, I usually order them once I’m home”, Y/N managed to speak while chewing her last bite of burger. “You’re pretty cool, angel. Never thought I could meet someone I’d like in here.”  

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Choose me, pt. 3 (G.D.)

Summary: Ethan and Y/N manage to keep their friendship alive as two more months pass by. Y/N hasn’t seen Grayson at all, but will things change when Ethan invites her to a party at their house?

Warning: swearing, angst

Word count: 1470

Choose Me - Masterlist

„You almost got me killed!“ I yell.

„Almost isn't the same as did. You're still alive!“ Ethan exclaimed.

„Only because I'm more skilled than you!“ I remark with a smirk.

„Ouch, that hurt, like, deep down.“ Ethan whines and I stifle a giggle.

„Getting hurt can sometimes be good for your health. You know I just want you to be healthy.“ I tease.

„Always thinking about what's best for me!“ Ethan continues. If I could see him right now, he'd probably be sitting in nothing but his underwear, his face focused on the task before him, his tongue protruding a little. Unfortunately, I couldn't. We meet up three times a week, play Fortnite every day too. It's sort of a way for us to continue our friendship without his brother in it. There was a bunch of loud voices on the other line and Ethan was really quiet.

„You okay?“ I ask, covering his ass, so he doesn't get killed.

„They're fighting.“ Ethan says and I bite my lip.

„Don't.“ I warn him and he sighs.

„Just thought you might want to know it's a daily occurrence.“ Ethan says quickly and I groan.

„I don't want to know. Remember rule number one? We both have it tattooed on us!“ I remind him, rubbing the new tattoo over my waistband.

„Right.“ Ethan sighs again and I roll my eyes.

„I mean it. I don't want to know.“ I repeat.

It's been around two months since I've last seen or spoken to Grayson. I deleted all my social media to make sure I didn't see the two of them. Why go to such extremes as delete everything? Because every page I like is somehow connected to the guys and the content will keep coming at me, chipping away pieces of my soul and I refused to let it get to me.

Life was good for me. I got out more, did some new things. Ethan and I were tighter than ever, the tattoo serves as proof. It was my first tattoo and I was scared as hell, but Ethan held my hand through it all. I was really grateful to have a friend as caring as he was. Sure, it wasn't the same type of friendship like I had with Grayson, but he gave me comfort I needed.

„Okay. Got it.“ He replied.

„Wanna come over this Friday? I'm having a little party“ Ethan asked and I paused the game immediately.

„Are you nuts?!“ I screamed at him and a loud thud, followed by a groan came from his side of the line.

„I think my ears might be bleeding!“ Ethan exclaimed and I snorted.

„Serves you right! You know I'm not coming near your house ever again. Why bother asking?“ I reminded him of a little rant I already made him listen. I never once went there, just in case. I wasn't up for seeing Grayson, it was that simple.

„He won't be there till late. I already checked.“ Ethan reassured, but I didn't like the sound of it.

„I don't want to, E. Also, I kinda have plans with a friend that night.“ I rub my temples to soothe an oncoming headache.

„Bring the friend. I assure you, there will be no G. or the little B.B.“ Ethan chuckled at his own little insult. I'm not proud of it, but I laughed too. Ethan gave her a nickname Bitchy Barbie and refuses to call her by her actual name.

„Promise me.“

„I do.“ He says and I release a shaky sigh. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see the house either, but I really missed it. It's funny, right? Missing four walls and a roof that aren't even yours...the thing is, that house held so many memories and it was like a proof that things between Gray and I were once real.

„I'll come. Only for a little.“ I make it clear, but it doesn't stop his cheering.

By Friday, I already had an outfit prepared. I decided on a mid thigh lacy, skin-tight dress with a pair of heels. I knew this party will be filled with social media stars, so I needed to be fashionable and girly. That wasn't the only reason tho'.

I texted my friend their address and drove to the house. I stopped at their doorstep and inhaled a deep breath. I could hear the music playing, people talking and it made me nervous. I knew he wasn't in there, but I needed my heart to stop beating so loudly and for my brain to quiet down. I was about to knock when Ethan opened the door. In seconds, I was pulled in a big hug.

„You really came“, Ethan spoke, his voice muffled by my hair.

„Told ya I would.“ I giggle.

„Come on!“ Ethan grabs my hand pulling me inside. The music was blaring a Taylor Swift song and I cocked my eyebrow at the music choice.

„You seem taller and woah“ Ethan turned and stopped moving once he saw my outfit choice. His eyes traveled down my body and I felt a little insecure and almost naked before his gaze.

„You dressed up!“ He exclaimed, his eyes still a little wide from the surprise.

„Yes?“ I state, but it sounded more like a question.

„My friend is coming soon, so I'll be somewhere by the door. Get me a drink, please?“ I asked, shouting over the music. Ethan seemed to still be in a haze, but he nodded slowly and walked to the bar. He turned a few times to look at me, like he was making sure this wasn't a hallucination.

„Hey.“ A familiar voice whispered in my ear as an arm wrapped around my waist. I was pulled against his chest and without a second thought I leaned in. Closing my eyes with a smile on my face, we swayed gently to the song.

„Who's he?“ Ethan asked and I opened my eyes.

„This is the friend I was talking about.“ I say and grab his hand, pulling him forward.

„You didn't mention your friend was tall, handsome and had a penis!“ Ethan exclaimed and I covered my face with my hands from embarrassment.

„Harry, please get me a drink..“ I asked nicely, batting my eyelashes.

„Sure.“ Harry pecked my cheek and left.

„Behave.“ I order, pointing my finger at Ethan.

„I knew something was up. You're on a date!“ Ethan whisper shouted, pulling me into a hallway.

„He's a friend!“ I defend.

„You don't dress up like THAT“, he motioned to my entire body,“ for a friend. In fact, I've never seen you in a dress till tonight!“ He pulls at his hair and I laugh at his reaction.

„I prefer comfort over looks. Sue me.“ I remark and he rolls his eyes.

„You never mentioned him before.“ He states and this time I'm the one rolling my eyes.

„He's an old crush from my hometown. I'm just showing him around town.“ I smile coyly and shrug innocently.

„You don't fool me. You two are involved.“ Ethan presses and I smirk.

„You got me!“ I admit raising my hands in mock surrender. Ethan shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

„If you like him...I won't stand in your way. Just..I don't really trust him.“ He looks to the floor and once again, I'm reminded of how sweet this seemingly rough boy can be.

„Thanks. I should go out, he's probably looking for me.“ I point out, peering over him to see the crowd.

We walked back, and Harry practically ran to meet me.

„I got worried.“ He hugged me and I smiled.

„Sorry. Best friends emergency.“ I say pointing at Ethan.

„Good thing I'm not the jealous type.“ Harry teases, his hand traveling from my neck, down my spine, stopping at the small of my back. He pulls me closer and I find myself pressed up against him, his other hand lifting my chin. I could feel his minty breath, his lips only inches away and I wanted to kiss him. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch and in a moment the world around us didn't matter anymore. The kiss was gentle and sweet. It didn't set off fireworks or made thunder rumble in my chest, but I enjoyed the feeling of his warm lips on mine.

„Wow.“ He said and I put my hand on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his breathing fast and heavy.

„Oh, look at what we have here. Little Y/N crawled back to beg for forgiveness?“ I heard that shrill voice and I froze. What was she doing here? Ethan said Grayson wasn't here! Why was she?

I turned and gave a sweet smile that soon faded away once I saw Grayson standing behind her.

[haikyuuhaley]

Always. (G.D.)

I can still remember the way his smile could light up my day in an instant, and to be honest, if I saw it now, it probably still would. The sound of his laughter still rang through my ears when I thought of him, it brought tears to my eyes because no matter how much I wanted to call him and ask him to just lie to me and say he loved me, I couldn’t get through. He blocked me out for no reason, after a year and a half you would think you would have a reason to break up with your girlfriend. I want to feel the tingle and warmth of his touch again, I want to hear him sing in the shower, share those little moments with him. I yearned to be his muse again, but it was no use.

           I tried to continue with my life, but it was hard, we were friends with the same people, we lived in the same area, we went to the same cafes and stores and when I saw him from a far I would have to immediately walk away to fight the burning tears he caused. My heart was still his and it would always be, no matter how much I tried to forget him, move on, date after date, month after month.

           7 weeks. It had been 7 weeks since he had shattered my heart and left me empty, that’s when I saw him, heard his boisterous laugh along with his brothers. My eyes fell on his body as he talked with David, a mutual friend. My breath hitched, and I felt the burning in my eyes, my heart started to beat erratically which is weird because time seemed to slow down as he innocent, wandering eyes, wandered to me. His bright eyes found my dull ones and his expression changed, from happy and full of life to, sad and concerned? No, that’ s impossible because he left you. He shut you out, left you emotionally drained.

He didn’t care.

I quickly spun around and made my way to the cash, paying for my clothing while pretending to be happy. That’s all it was anymore, pretending, it was never real since he left. My smile was faked, my eyes were dull, I always look tired and I didn’t give a fuck about anything anymore. It used to be that I only cared about what Grayson thought, he made my smile genuine, my happiness real, but that all came crashing down around me. My stomach dropped as I turned to see him still staring at me, and to my lucky, they were in front of the only exit. I took a deep breath and quickly walked to the exit, my head down and my hand gripping tightly onto the bag that held my purchases.

“Excuse me.” I asked quietly as I got to the group, my voice was brittle, so small and fragile that I had to clear my throat. They move to the side slightly, but before I could make it safely to the sidewalk that would be my grand escape from this hellish situation, David addressed me.

“Y/N, hey, how are you, I haven’t seen you since…” his voice, which started off cheer and light quickly faltered off and became heavy with apology as he realized what he was about to say. My eyes which had flickered to his face, fell downwards yet again as I held onto my breath.

“Since the breakup, yeah, um David can we catch up a different time? It’s just kinda awkward since-” my voice cracked just as I got cut off, his voice could still make me swoon, but it was different. It wasn’t loving or full of life like it used to be, it was cold and raspy, unwelcoming.

 “Since I’m here, right?” I could tell his eyes were on me, but I didn’t dare look back at him. I knew if I looked into those beautiful hazel eyes I would burst into tears. I held my gaze to the floor and whispered a frail ‘Yeah’ that was barely audible.

“Peach, look at me.” That’s what did it, that is what sent my emotions over the edge, tears freely falling down my face, I guess he had given up the tough guy gig since he slipped his calloused hand under my chin so that I could look at him, his eyes searched my blurred ones as the tears flowed like a waterfall down my cheeks. I felt his thumbs wipe my tears and I jerked my face from his touch.

“I need to go.” Was all I could choke out as I swiftly turned and stumbled out of the shop, turning to speed walk to my apartment. I heard Grayson mumble something, but I heard Ethan interject.

“Bro, now isn’t the time. Go see her after.”

That was the last thing I heard as I fumbled my way through people so that I could just go home and cry. I didn’t think my heart could get even more shattered then it was, but some how Grayson Dolan just has that affect on me.

[ethxndolan]

Grayson Dolan Must Die (G.D.) Part 10

Summary: Grayson Dolan is known as the schools womanizer. His ability to make a girl fall in love with him, and drop her within a week is legendary. When a series of events peaks Grayson’s interest in Y/N, she is recruited by three of his exes to break his heart in a very public way and exact revenge for all the pain he has caused. However, nothing goes according to plan… and Y/N may be in way over her head navigating the whit and charm that is Grayson Dolan.

A/N: OMG THIS IS THE LAST PART thank u so so so so so much for reading it all i love u so much for it i hope u like the ending this def could have been like three parts but whatever THANK U AGAIN also writing this might be why im swerving into grays lane? but its fine im fine 

Word Count: 4,147

Warnings: probably typos but if you’ve read up to this part im sure ur super hip to that already 

MASTERSLIST

Everyone was piling into the bleachers for the homecoming pep rally. I nervously took a seat as close to the stairs as possible, just in case our plan didn’t work and I had to get the hell out of there. I was completely engulfed in anxiety as I waited for the pep rally to start, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do now. Either our plan worked, or it didn’t. I desperately wished that I could be with Gray right now, but as the captain of the football team, he had to be with the team on the field.

After everyone was settled, the principal finally stepped up to the microphone and started some speech about how wonderful our school was and how our football team was going to lead us to victory tonight. I didn’t hear a word of it.

My mind was all over the place, my eyes searching for every possible point of escape, should it be necessary, until Grayson stepped up to the microphone. He looked calm and collected, but I could tell by the way his fingers were twitching that he was anything but. I wondered if that had to do with speaking in front of our whole school or if he was nervous for the exact same reason I was. I wasn’t sure which option would make me feel better.

“Hey guys,” he said into the microphone, “You all better show up to the game tonight because we’re going to destroy the Herndon Falcons! I promise, as your captain, your quarterback, your favorite Dolan twin, and winner of dreamiest senior, that I will lead us to victory!” I couldn’t help but laugh a little at how ridiculous he was. “GO, BRONCOS!” he yelled. Everyone in the stands repeated his chant.

Next up to the microphone was Sabrina, the captain of the cheerleading team. Everyone seemed confused as to why she was up there, normally the cheerleaders never said anything at pep rally’s… they just cheered. Nerves and anxiety raced through my body because I knew what this meant.

I had trusted Grayson with so much, and I so wanted to believe everything he said to me, but there was a small, okay big, part of me that doubted him. There was just so much that could go wrong and he had been so vague about what he was going to do.

“Broncos!” Sabrina yelled, “A few girls and I have put together a special video to get us all hyped up for the game!” She nodded at Rachel who was standing off the side. My heart stopped beating as I watched Rachel press play on her laptop, which was hooked up to a projector. I held my breath as I waited for it to start. My body was tense and ready to bolt at any second.

As soon as I heard the moaning and heaving breathing, I let out a huge sigh of relief. Grayson had done it. He had switched the video on Rachel’s phone and convinced her that showing it at the pep rally was the best way to get back at me. Except the video wasn’t of me, it was some old cheesy porn from the 70’s.

My eyes searched out Grayson’s on the field, and when I finally found him, his huge grin was mirroring my own. He caught my eye and winked at me.

Chaos ensued right after the video had started. Rachel, Sabrina and Megan were all yelling at each other in complete shock. The Principal was sprinting towards them screaming at the top of his lungs for them to turn if off. The entire student body was cracking up when in the video a pizza delivery guy knocked on the door and asked to join the couple vigorously having sex on a coffee table.

Rachel's eyes zeroed in on me. “What the hell did you do?” she yelled, storming over to me. She was so angry her face was turning redder by the second.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t do a single thing.”

“You fucking bitch,” she said pointing at me, “If you think this is the only way I can ruin your life, you’re dead wrong.”

I stood up from my seat and walked down the steps to face her. “Rachel, all your plotting and scheming in the world isn’t going to help you get Grayson. I know you went to him and told him all about the GDMD plan, do you know how pathetic it is that you had to orchestrate this crazy plan just to get a guys attention? Even with your psychopathic tendencies, I’m sure there’s some guy out there who can put up with you. But as for Gray? He’s mine.” Claiming Gray as mine was definitely not true, but she didn’t need to know that.

Her face twisted in rage as she let out an ear splitting shriek. She opened her mouth and was just about to say something as school security approached us. “Miss?” they said to Rachel, “You need to come with us.”

She shot me one final death glare before following after them.

Someone was finally able to pull the plug and the big screen went black, ending the wild 70’s porn. The students groaned in disappointment. Sabrina, Megan and Rachel were being escorted off of the field by school security, no doubt on their way to face punishment.

The Principal walked up to the microphone, looking extremely flustered and unsure what to do. “Well, uh…” he started, “That was… Well, I don’t really know what that was, but everyone involved will be expelled immediately. Um, GO BRONCOS… and go home.” Everyone started to stand up in the bleachers, “But come back for the game!” he quickly added, but it was mostly lost over the loud chattering over the students leaving.

I walked out to the field desperately trying to find Grayson. The principals threat about everyone involved being expelled made me nervous, I wasn’t sure exactly how involved he was. He didn’t tell me much about his part of the plan, just assured me that ‘he had it covered’.

I finally found him and his face broke out into a huge grin when he saw me. But, finding him was the easy part, getting to him was another task entirely as it seemed everyone wanted to wish him luck. I stood off to the side and waited as person after person approached him. The more time passed the more unsure I became. Did he want me to wait for him? Was whatever weird friendship we had formed done now because everything was over? I really didn’t want it to be.

A few minutes later he finally managed to get away and my favorite crooked smile was on his face made all my fears disappear, . “Hey,” I said.

“Hey? That’s it? We did it!” He exclaimed. He grabbed me and pulled me into a bone crushing hug. “I was so fucking nervous, I can’t believe that worked.”

As much as I was enjoying having his strong arms wrapped around me, I took a step back, a little worried the hug had lasted too long. “You’re not going to get in trouble or anything are you?” I asked.

He dramatically gasped and looked offend, “Y/N, of course I’m not. You’re lack of faith in me is truly disappointing, we’re really going to have to work on that,” he said. “But, seriously, every conversation I had with Rachel was in person, and I know for a fact there was a group chat between her, Sabrina, and Megan detailing their exact plans to post the video. I also made sure Rachel thought the whole pep rally thing was her idea. So, if something does come up they have no proof, and I’m confident I can talk my way out of any situation.”

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. “You’re a regular criminal,” I teased.

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” He asked. I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or what, but his eyes looked hopeful. I opened my mouth to reply that I wasn’t, but he cut me off already knowing what I was going to say. “Come on, partner. You have to come. How can I win if your not there cheering me on?”

“ ‘I’, isn’t it a team sport?” I asked.

“I mean, sure, I guess you could look at it that way,” he said, “But I play a very important role, a crucial role, one could say. The only role that matters, one could also say. So you see, the victory and pride of our entire school rests on your shoulders. Are you going to come or not?”

—

Naturally, Grayson led our team to victory. Throughout the whole game I was plagued with anxiety because I didn’t know what to do. As I was talking to Grayson after the pep rally, and he was staring at me waiting for my response about coming to the game or not, I realized I was in love with him. It hit me so hard and so fast I could barely breathe.

I was in love with his stupid crooked smile, I was in love with his laugh, his giggle, his wheeze when he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, I was in love with his dumb cocky jokes, the way his hair was always falling into his eyes but he refused to cut it. Most of all, I was in love with the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the world, like this was the only moment that mattered. I was in love with Grayson Dolan and I didn’t know what to do about it.

I had no idea if he felt the same. I mean, it kind of seemed like it? Sometimes? He was definitely flirty with me, but wasn’t he flirty with everyone? Wasn’t that part of his personality?
 During the whole game I was so conflicted on what to do that I barely paid attention to what was happening. My mind was racing as I kept imagining telling him how I felt and him rejecting me. I thought about how much had already happened today, and how I stood up to the GDMD girls and how good that felt, and I knew that I had to do it, had to take the risk- no matter the outcome.

So that was how I found myself standing on the sidelines waiting for Grayson after the game. I knew I had to do it now or I would lose my nerve and never be able to do it. I kept telling myself that his answer didn’t matter, that if he didn’t feel the same way it would be fine, because at least I tried. But that was such a lie.

I watched as he pulled his helmet off, revealing his sweaty hair, that somehow made him look even more attractive. My heart caught in my throat as he looked over at me and smiled. He took a step in my direction before he was swarmed by a mass of people wanting to congratulate him. I stood off to the side and watched girl after girl give him a hug, a kiss on the cheek, squeeze his muscular bicep, and I watched the same smile he always gave me on his face as he looked at them.

God, I was an idiot. Of course he didn’t like me back. I quickly turned and took off to my car as fast as I could without attracting too much attention to myself. There was no way Grayson looked at me as more than his lab partner. And even if in some remote universe he slightly liked me just a little, he clearly wasn’t into relationships as evidence by his track record with girls. That was the entire reason I got pulled into the Grayson Dolan Must Die plan after all.

I sat in my car for a moment and thought. I could tell I was on the verge of a total breakdown, so I could either go home and cry, or go to the giant field party and get drunk.

I decided getting drunk was way more fun.

—

By the time I made it to the field the party was in full swing. In typical field party fashion, there was a bon fire in the center and cars spread out everywhere with their headlights on to brighten up the dark night. Although it seemed like most people were avoiding the lights and taking advantage of the privacy of the shadows.

As I walked around, my phone started buzzing in my pocket for the third time that night. I knew without checking that it was Gray, he had been the other two calls. I ignored them, not wanting to have to face him tonight. He would probably just forget about me as soon as some other girl walked by anyway. I knew talking to him would only making getting over him worse, and I needed to move on form him. And his stupid chocolate brown floppy hair that I loved.

I made my way over to the keg and started to fill up my cup with whatever cheap beer they had. As I was concentrating on not letting it get too foamy, Connor walked up. “Hey, baby,” he said.

“Go away, Connor,” I replied dryly, not even bothering to look up at him. Just being near him made me feel uneasy.

I finished filling my cup up and started to walk away. Clearly Connor had a different idea, because he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him. “Y/N, I know you miss me. Can’t we put the past behind us and let our bodies have the release they so desperately crave?” His words felt like a thousand bugs were crawling all over my skin.

I started at him dumbfounded, “Ew, Connor, what the fuck? That’s so gross. I actually think I just broke out into hives.” I started to check my arms for dramatic effect. I looked back up at him in disgust. “I genuinely have no idea what I ever saw in you.”

He leaned in close to my face, I could smell the cheap beer on his breath and it made me nauseous. “I was just the first guy to ever tell you you’re pretty. Your pants came flying off after that, easiest lay I’ve ever had.” Arrogance was clear across his greasy face.

I was just about to go off on him, when Grayson beat me to it. “Shut the fuck up, you prick. Leave her alone, you should feel special she even let you look at her.” He walked up and stood right behind me, his chest pressed against my shoulder. He was freshly showered and wearing his football jersey, the scent of his body wash enveloped me and immediately relaxed me.

Connor shook his head. “Oh, Dolan. You should really stay out of things that aren’t your business. Especially considering your reputation with the ladies.” Connor’s eyes shot to me, “This is the guy you want, Y/N? This douchebag? Oh man, I knew you were a slut, but I didn’t think you were dumb enough to fall for his antics, he’ll play you worse than I ever did.”

Gray stepped around me and grabbed Connor by the collar of his shirt. Grayson towered over Connor by a few inches, the hard work Gray put in at the gym was clear against all the drinking and partying Connor did. “I thought I told you to shut the fuck up,” Gray said.

“Hey man, I mean if you want my sloppy seconds, she’s -“ Connor was cut off when Gray’s fist brutally connected with his jaw.

“That was for calling her a slut,” Gray said before hitting Connor a second time, “That was for calling her sloppy seconds.” Gray hit him a third time, and the sound of bone cracking was audible as Connor fell to the ground. “And that was for that fucking pervy little video, you twisted fuck.” Gray’s voice was so deep and guttural as he spoke.

At this point we had definitely caught everyone’s attention as Grayson was standing over Connor, who was groaning loudly in pain. It was clear the dispute was about me as everyone’s eyes were staring at me, which made me extremely uncomfortable.

I turned and walked away, wanting to get as far away from this situation as possible. I chugged my beer as I walked and then tossed the cup somewhere on the ground. I started heading towards the line of trees in front of me so that I could be alone.

“Y/N!” I heard someone call from behind me. My body instantly tensed up as I recognized Gray’s voice. I ignored him hoping he would take the hint and go away, but he didn’t. He ran up next to me panting a little, “Y/N, what the hell? Why are you ignoring me? I couldn’t find you after the game, and then you ignore my calls, and now you’re literally ignoring what I’m saying right now.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. “What’s going on?” His eyes were pleading with me to explain, but I couldn’t tell him the truth.

“It’s not a whole thing like you’re making it out to be, I just want to be alone right now,” I said. I was looking anywhere but at him, knowing that it would be too painful to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t I believe you?” he asked.

I shrugged and started to walk away again, “I don’t know, maybe because you’re conceited?” I instantly regretted it after I said it. I knew how upset Gray was with the way people viewed him, and it hurt me to think he would assume I was just like them.  

He moved lightning quick and stood right in front of me so that I ran right into his chest. I tried to take a step back to put some space between us, but he only stepped towards me again. “Do you really think that?” he asked, hurt clear in his voice. “I know you always joke around about stuff like that, but that always seemed like a joke, and I… this doesn’t seem like a joke.”

I sighed. “No, I don’t think that, I shouldn’t have said that,” I muttered, “I’m sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I tried to step around him, but again he stood in my way. “Seriously, Grayson.” My voice was a lot stronger as I was growing annoyed with him. Why couldn’t he just let this go? Why did he have to be so stubborn?

“Seriously, Y/N, tell me what’s going on. I get if you’re upset about what Connor said, but I don’t get why you blew me off after the game.” His tone hinted at his anger, and his eyes were piecing into me as he silently demanded an answer.

“I didn’t blow you off, you were busy,” I shot back, bitterness clear in my tone. I hated how dramatic and petty I was being, but all I wanted was to be alone and he was clearly not giving up.

“I was trying to get to you, I thought you were waiting, and then I looked all over the place for you, but I couldn’t find you. Can you please just tell me the truth?” he begged, his voice and eyes growing softer. I knew I couldn’t lie to him, he would see right through it, but the truth wasn’t an option.

“It’s nothing, okay? It’s stupid, I’m stupid.” I was growing antsy, desperately wanting to get away from him. This conversation was far too painful and I was far too sober.

He firmly grabbed me by the chin and made me look at him. His eyes were intense as he said, “You’re not stupid. You’re anything but stupid, you’re the smartest person I know.” His voice was so confident that I almost believed him.

“Yeah, maybe at school stuff, but not at this…” my voice trailed off.

He dropped his hand from my chin and I instantly missed the contact of his skin on mine. “At what?” he asked, his face scrunched up in confusion, one eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other highlighting the scar between them.

I motioned between us. “This.” His eyebrow raised even higher in silent question. “This, relationships, people… and I’m not talking about Connor,” I elaborated, hoping he would understand without me having to admit it.

“Yeah, I still really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cursed under my breath, why couldn’t he just let this go? I couldn’t look him in the eyes and I said, “I’m stupid because I thought there was something between us, but it’s irrelevant because I’m aware there’s not so we really don’t have to talk about. If you still need help in chemistry I’m more than happy to keep tutoring you, but that’s it. Just tutoring.” The words came tumbling out of my mouth like I had lost all control.

“Do you want to go to the homecoming dance with me tomorrow?” he asked. My eyes shot up to his in surprise.

“What?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. My mind was blank as I stared at his sparking eyes, unable to come up with a logical reason for his question.

“I meant to ask you sooner, I just didn’t want to do it while you were nervous about the whole video thing. And I tried to do it after the pep rally, but so many people were around, and then I tried to do it after the game, but you took off… So, will you go to the dance with me?” His eyes were searching my face looking for an answer that I didn’t have. I could have sworn he looked a little nervous.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” I said.

“You’re not missing anything, you’re not stupid,” he said. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Y/N, i’ve liked you since school started. You’ve interested me since freshmen year, but I can’t say I liked you then because I didn’t really know you. But I would always see you in the library, or reading at lunch, and I thought you were absolutely breathtaking and all I wanted was to get to know you. So when I found out we had chem together, I talked Mrs.Tyler into making us lab partners. I kept asking to copy your homework because it was the only way to make you talk, everything else I said you would pretty much ignore, but asking to copy your homework always got you fired up.” I stared at him in complete disbelief, and when I was just about to protest he cut me off, “I know Rachel and all them made you change and dress different and stuff, and at first I liked it because suddenly you seemed to be interested in me, but it doesn’t matter what you wear or how you do your hair, because I like you, Y/N. I more than like you, but i’m really not trying to freak you out right now and you’re wide eyes are really starting to freak me out right now because I’ve never given one of these speeches before and so I’m kind of nervous, I’m not really sure what happens now.” The honesty in his voice and the vulnerability in his eyes as he watched me intently, made me believe him.

“I’m in love with you,” I blurted out super quickly. He probably couldn’t even understand what I was saying it came out so fast and jumbled. I didn’t even know what I was saying.

“What?” he looked as shocked and surprise as I felt.  

I didn’t hesitate for a second as I clarified. “I’m in love with you,” I said slower, making sure each word was clear.

A huge smile spread across his face, his eyes lit up in the moon light. “I love you, too,” he said. He stepped forward and closed the gap between us, placing his lips lightly on mine. I wound my hands into his jersey and pulled him even closer and intensified the kiss. It was everything I ever wanted, my toes were tingling, I swear the forest animals were singing, and I about died when Gray’s hand slid up under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back.

I whimpered a little when Gray pulled back a hair. He laughed and quickly kissed me one more time. “So, will you go to homecoming with me?”

I stared longingly into his eyes as I replied, “Yes.”

THE END

[attyvicsimon]

08 March 2021: Happy International Women's Day to my mother Lydia; sister Matet; sister-in-law Tessa; nieces Princess, Queenie, and April; granddaughters Karen, Cassie, and Ally; my aunts, other women relatives, colleagues, and friends. You are all strong, courageous, and capable women. Cheers to you! 😍 In celebration of #IWD2021 #InternationalWomensDay today, here are some inspiring quotations about women from notable women in history: Margaret Thatcher: “If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman.” Maya Angelou: “Each time a woman stands up for herself, she stands up for all women.” Eleanor Roosevelt: “A woman is like a tea bag: You can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg: “Women will only have true equality when men share with them the responsibility of bringing up the next generation.” Marie Curie: "Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less." Amelia Earhart: "Women, like men, should try to do the impossible. And when they fail, their failure should be a challenge to others." Oprah Winfrey: “The great courageous act that we must all do, is to have the courage to step out of our history and past so that we can live our dreams.” Laurel Thatcher Ulrich: “Well-behaved women seldom make history." Elizabeth Cady Stanton: “The best protection any woman can have is courage.” Ntozake Shange: “Where there is a woman, there is magic.” Stephanie Bennett Henry: "Life is tough, my darling, but so are you.” Melinda Gates: “A woman with a voice is by definition a strong woman.” Hannah Gadsby: “There is nothing stronger than a broken woman who has rebuilt herself.” G.D. Anderson: “Feminism isn’t about making women strong. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.” Rupi Kaur: “What’s the greatest lesson a woman should learn? That since day one, she’s already had everything she needs within herself. It’s the world that convinced her she did not.” Cher: “Women are the real architects of society.” Nora Ephron: “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not https://www.instagram.com/p/CMKGMfmhobn/?igshid=fd4br0adknp6

[macabremads]

You give me the blues g.d

Warnings: Cussing, Cheating, Yelling. 

Unedited

ITS SHIT BUT ITS 12:30AM 

You had known George for two years before becoming a couple officially, the boys were elated and your family had already assumed that you two were together as you two seemed practically inseparable. It had been the type of relationship that you would read in stories when you were younger. 

You had been relatively inexperienced when you walked into this relationship, never really having a 100% relationship with anyone else besides George, he had been your first ‘real’ partner. In hindsight, you should have thought that could complicate things, you had never really experienced much with other people so how were you to know what you wanted? But regardless of this fact, you knew you loved George and figured that he felt the same way towards you. 

He had asked you to go on tour with him and you felt elated, automatically agreeing as it was an opportunity to spend more time with G while he was on tour and you would be able to travel. Who could pass that deal up? 

You spent most nights attending shows, cheering on the boys that you had grown so fond of. It had made you so happy to see G in his element, doing what he loved most and you never wanted to see this taken away from him, you two were happy, the band was making money, everything was going well. 

That was, until you found out that George was fucking people behind your back. 

It was tragic really, Matty had came into the tour bus around 10pm alone which was very uncharacteristic for him as he usually came home completely sloshed when there were free days. 

“Y/N, we need to talk.” 

You felt stupid. 

His mate had to tell you the news, showing screenshots that he had sent to himself from Georges phone, detailing photos that had been sent back between George and these girls, people you had never met before. He talked so low of you to these people, making it seem as though you were a moody girl who he took along so that you would be happy, like a charity case. 

“I don’t know what’s going on Y/N but this isn’t George.” Matty had followed up as he saw your torn expression as you went through the photos for the second time. 

Your eyes looked up to lock with his, finally, tears flooded over as you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Matty’s small frame, emptying sobs into the air as he held you close, hating to see you hurting. “S’ not your fault.” He mumbled into your hair as he ran his fingers down your back in a comforting manner. 

After you had calmed down a bit you automatically went to put your stuff together, not wanting to stay around if you were “weighing everyone down” as George had put it. 

Matty had helped you put everything together, messaging his tour manager to put together a way for you to get home as you were stationed in London, only an hour and a half away from your parent’s place. 

“We brought back pizza!” A loud voice erupted, belonging to George, followed by two others, Adam and Ross who were singing along to some made up song as they came through the main tour bus door. 

You automatically felt sick to your stomach as you zipped up your suitcase, swallowing thickly as you felt Matty place his hand on your shoulder. “W’as going on?” George questioned in his thick accent as he scanned around the room, looking at your couple of bags that contained most of your belongings. 

You felt a sudden wave of anger course through you as you pushed back your hair before wiping under your eyes. “When were you gonna tell me G?” You questioned, keeping your voice surprisingly steady as you looked up to catch his confused expression. 

You didn’t even give him a second to respond before busting out everything you had to say. “I gave up so much to come here and let you live your fucking dream, taking care of you and your mates, acting like your nanny and in return I get your curt fucking responses.” You spat, raising your voice as you balled your hands at your sides. 

“You, you treated me like shit. Yelling at me for things I didn’t do to your standard and I blamed myself.” You spoke, voice breaking slightly, Adam automatically feeling his heart drop at how broken you sounded, George just stood there agape at where he knew this was leading to. 

“I-I stayed here for you and you were fucking girls behind my back. Veronica, Sam, Rachel, Sydney.” You listed the names that Matty had shown you. 

“Babe, please let me explain.” George breathed, stepping closer to you only to have you back away from him, feeling sick to your stomach. 

“You’re a piece of shit George Daniel and I hope you realize how fucked up you are, fucking piece of shit.” You sobbed, looking down as you grabbed your suitcase handle, moving to leave the bus, looking back to see a somber looking George, his head hung low and tears brimming under his eyes. 

“I hope they were worth it.” 

Kinda wanna do a part two, thoughts?

[heywritersblock]

trust (part 1): g.d

grayson’s best friend has a bit of a problem and i think we might know a guy who can lend a hand (wink wink)

“so you need someone who you trust AND who knows what he’s doing in bed?” grayson concludes.

“so you see my problem!”

you feel him smirk and then, “i bet i could make you come.”

~2000 words

update: completed fic

exasperated and with more force than absolutely necessary, you throw yourself down onto the couch at the side of grayson, huffing when he doesn’t move his leg from the seat you’ve landed on quick enough. grimacing over dramatically, you both manoeuvre with very little grace to free his leg and to get yourself comfortable. gray takes one look at your face from over the top of his phone, sits up a little straighter and tosses his phone onto the coffee table to give you his full attention.

“what’s up, mama?” he says after a minute of pointedly staring at you in silence, waiting for you to spill.

“nothin’,” you mumble, purposely avoiding his gaze.

he prods your thigh with one of his socked toes as a non verbal way of saying yeah right.

he notices your body language of arms folded over your chest, legs propped on the coffee table but not relaxed; not like his best friend at all.

“y/n, spill. c’mon.”

you huff again, tilting your body further towards the arm of the couch grayson isn’t leaning on to try and escape the interrogation. ethan relaxes at the side of you on a huge beanbag that’s been added to the living room recently, munching the popcorn you prepared earlier and waiting for the movie marathon to begin.

“y/n,” grayson repeats again, with more force this time.

“for fucks sake, are we watchin’ this movie or not?” ethan says from the beanbag, missing his mouth with the popcorn as he does. he makes an effort to look for the rogue pieces that didn’t quite make it in, then shrugs when he doesn’t immediately see them. he shoves another handful of the treat in his mouth as he keeps his gaze on the two best friends since high school who are sitting on the couch.

you turn away from ethan, finally looking at gray’s unamused face for the first time since you sat down. “exactly, gray. put the fucking movie on. E’s nearly eaten all of the popcorn with all of your dawdling,” you say.

“nah, no movie’s going on ‘til you tell me what crawled up your ass,” he retorts.

“excuse me?” you ask, body still turned away from grayson. you catch ethan wince at your tone combined with how quick your head turned to glare at his brother.

he sits up further so he’s looking directly at you, shoving the remote down the back of the couch cushion he’s sat on when he sees you trying to reach for it.

“somethin’s clearly got you pissed so spill! i’m not watchin’ a movie with you with you while you’ve got your bitch face on so come on, out with it,” he encourages.

ethan rolls his eyes and empties the last of the popcorn into his mouth while he waits. he knows how stubborn you are – about as stubborn as his brother – and he’s worried this stand off could take a while.

he’s about to pull his phone out to post a snap about you both when you sigh, pull your legs up from the coffee table and fold them under you and mumble, “fuckin’ jenna,” so quietly you’re unsure if gray heard you. luckily, he did.

“ok, now we’re getting somewhere!” he replies. “what’d she do now?”

you turn your body to face him more now and he moves his legs out of the way so you can get comfortable. you still don’t quite meet his eyes but he knows he’s almost cracked you.

“she can just be such a bitch sometimes. always makin’ people feel bad about themselves. she really pisses me off, y’know?” you start to open up, glancing up at your best friend to glimpse his reaction.

“she made you feel bad? she is a bitch!” he agrees immediately with genuine annoyance spread across his features at the thought of someone upsetting you. you smile; he’s always got your back even if he doesn’t know the full story. “what’s she makin’ you feel bad about?”

“so, she’s tellin’ us all about her new boyfriend and how well he treats her and how she’s so lucky to have found someone just like him and it’s like – first of all, no one asked, jenna, and secondly, you’ve been dating him for two weeks – maybe three at the most – so like, keep your opinions to yourself until you know him better, y’know?” you begin. gray nods his head to show he’s listening.

you glance around to see e’s busying himself playing a pretty loud game on his phone while he waits for you two to sort this out before he can watch the movie. you turn back to grayson to continue your story.

“so we’re all nodding politely and giving it the whole wow, jenna, we’re so pleased for you – you deserve a good guy when like, no jenna you cheated on your last boyfriend with your sister’s crush so no, you probably don’t deserve a good guy but whatever, that’s besides the point,” you rant.

grayson can’t help the soft smile that’s spread across his face as he listens to you. the corner of his smile tugs upwards as he sees ethan’s head lift upwards from the corner of his vision and look towards you both at the story you’re only just starting.

“so that’s bad enough, right? by this point i’m practically chugging these mocktails back and praying for some sort of miracle that’ll drop the drinking age to 18 immediately so i can make it through the rest of this fuckin’ nightmare of a brunch without losing it.”

grayson huffs out a laugh at that, then shoves his unstyled hair that’s falling onto his forehead back as you keep going.

“and then gray - and this is what really pissed me off – she starts telling us all oh god you guys, and let me tell you about him in the bedroom. like, jenna! there’s nothing in the whole fuckin’ world that i want to hear less about than your sex life so keep it to yourself, y’know? but obviously she carries on. seriously you guys, find yourself a guy that makes you come three times each time.”

ethan’s head’s popped up fully now, clearly engaged in what he’s just heard and about to interject before grayson shakes his head at him.

“what happened then?” he asks. he can tell you’re getting to the part that’s really upset you because you’re gesticulating a lot more now, voice getting louder and really spitting the venom into your story.

“so, me being me and feeling like i’d do anything possible to end this freakin’ story as quickly as i can, i raise my glass and say ha! must be nice! then cheers everyone. so i’m like cool, story’s over. right?”

“right?”

“wrong – she turns and looks right at me and says oh, poor baby in this fucking condescending voice with this look of pity on her face and i swear to god, gray if i hadn’t already downed it, my drink would’ve been all over her,” you hiss.

“great self control, bub. ‘m proud of you,” he mumbles.

“so then the next forty-five minutes of this fuckin’ brunch was everyone giving me the sad face that i’ve never orgasmed when i’m having sex with a guy. like, is that weird?” you ask openly.

you look directly at grayson and note his carefully composed face, then whip your head around to look at ethan who’s not keeping his thoughts in check quite as well as his brother. E looks as though he’s been put on pause with his head held halfway up from his phone like he was just about to look at you but he’s suddenly stopped in his tracks. “well?” you ask him. “do you think it’s weird, E?”

“ummm - well – i think – i…” he stutters looking up at you from his beanbag.

you raise your eyebrow at him to prompt him to finish and he frantically looks at his brother.

“you got this, gray?” he asks, quickly standing up from the beanbag when gray smirks at how uncomfortable his brother is and nods his head.

“ok, i’m so not used to these conversations. i’ll just leave you to it. shout when you’re ready for the movie. fuck, being best friends with a girl is hard, bro,” ethan says, and then makes a run for it.

you turn back to gray, still waiting for your answer. you sigh, “i’m gonna take your lack of an answer as yes, y/n, it’s fuckin’ weird you giant freak.”

“hey, hey, hey, hold on. no jumpin’ to conclusions. i’ve gotta get my thoughts in order,” he soothes.

you hide your head in your hands; you’re still pissed that jenna’s got you questioning yourself like this and it’s also a pretty embarrassing conversation to be having with your hot best friend of almost eight years.

“so, can i ask you a couple of questions before i tell you that this is absolutely not weird so stop freaking out?”

your hands are still covering your face so when he hears a muffled reply and a nod of your head, he continues. “so i’m assuming from what you said earlier that you’ve come when you’re by yourself, yeah?”

you groan with embarrassment instead of replying and fling your head back to rest on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling, questioning exactly why you thought this would be a good idea.

grayson’s not having any of it though. “hey, stop it. it’s only me – you don’t have to be embarrassed. everyone does it, it’s natural. so, you’re good when you’re alone? you can make yourself come?”

he waits for you to close your eyes and then nod your head minutely.

“ok then. that settles it,” he says confidently.

you wait for him to continue but when nothing else comes from his mouth, you roll your head that’s still resting on the back of the couch to face him with a quizzical look on your face.

“settles what?” you ask.

“that it’s absolutely not weird that you’ve never come during sex with a guy. it’s clearly not you - you’re just pickin’ guys that haven’t got a fuckin’ clue what they’re doing,” he says with a grin and a shrug.

a loud laugh escapes you at his honesty, already feeling a little better after your best friend’s wise words.

“ok, so how do i know i’m picking someone who does know what they’re doing then? do i need to ask for reviews before i go on a date with them? i’m literally wasting weeks of my life with them and then i find out that they’re shitty in bed.” you whine.

“hey, a review system sounds like a dope dating app idea,” he says, bursting into laughter as he dodges the pillow that you’ve thrown at him.

“if this really bothers you, have you thought about maybe skipping out on the dating part? can you not find someone just to hook up with? get the job done, y’know? then you can get this stupid idea that you’re weird out of your mind,” he explains.

“it doesn’t work for me like that,” you sigh. “i dunno, sex is a big deal for me. it’s like, the closest and most intimate you can be with a person. the idea of being like that with a stranger? it just doesn’t do it for me.”

“no, no. i totally respect that. so you need someone who you trust and who knows what he’s doing,” he concludes.

“so you see my problem!” you laugh. you pick at a thread on your shorts and then look up at him and see he’s staring at you, eyes focused in thought.

he sees you glancing at him and he smiles, hiding a small laugh and picks up the cushion you threw at him earlier to cuddle. he’s still not breaking eye contact. 

it’s clear his laugh is infectious as you giggle, “what? what’s so funny?”

he shakes his head and then he smirks, “i bet i could make you come.”

he seems kind of surprised that he’s actually said it out loud judging from the slight flush that blooms on his cheeks but he shrugs, fishing the remote control out from the back of the cushion he’s sat on.

you gape at him, eyes wide as a laugh huffs out of you. you’re speechless – for once – which is a fact that isn’t lost on grayson who’s still got that sinful smirk smudged across his mouth.

he spins the remote in his hand so it’s the right way up and points it at the TV that they’ve got shoved in the corner of the room, setting up the movie as confident and cool as anything.

you’re still looking directly at him, trying to work out what the fuck has just happened when he looks back to you.

he shrugs and says, “offer’s there,” before yelling for E to come and watch the movie with you.

“did you get the – er - problem sorted?” ethan asks awkwardly as he plonks himself back down in the beanbag for the second time today. “not yet, but bear with us,” his brother mumbles, sending a wink in your direction.

(i’m blaming this on all of the incredible asks on @dolandrabbles i hope that’s ok!)

completed fic :)

[dolantwinsfavss]

Two Broken Hearts Part 4 {g.d}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 // Masterlist

For the next couple of weeks, what you had with Grayson seemed grow as each day passed. The subtle flirting, stolen glances from afar, and the possible reciprocated feelings that made you feel like your heart and mind were being pulled into two completely different places. One held doubts and potential heartbreak if you didn’t back out now. But the other told you to stay and hope your his feelings were the same. You just didn’t know what to choose. Do you follow your mind or do you follow your heart?

But you knew you didn’t want to get hurt. That was something you were constantly afraid of which explains why you’ve become so isolated with yourself. Your past with other guys weren’t exactly the best, resulting in you crying for days. Maybe this time will be different... There was no way Grayson would ever hurt me and even if he did, he wouldn’t mean to.

Tonight was movie night at your house, a tradition that has been in the running since the moment you all became friends. It consisted of boxes of pizza, various snacks and drinks, and sleeping over at whoever was hosting that night. The night was always filled with good memories you would always be grateful for.

As you were setting down a pile of blankets and pillows on the couch, the twins and your brother’s girlfriend walked in with food in their hands. “Hey guys. You can just set the food down in the kitchen and make yourself comfortable.” You said, laying out a blanket.

“Hi Y/N.” Ethan and your brother’s girlfriend said as they started walking towards the kitchen. However, Grayson walked over and laid on the pile of blankets you were supposed to be laying out before saying, “Hey bubs.”

Still that nickname gave you butterflies... You couldn’t help but to form a smile on your face and say, “Hi Gray... Now will you please get up and help me.”

“You know I was just about to until you said that and now I think I’m going to take a nap.” He said crossing his arms and snuggling closer to the couch.

“Come on Gray,” You said trying to pull the blankets out from under him, but he was too heavy to move. “I really need to get these laid out... Ugh you’re so heavy. You’re like a bag of bricks.”

“Did you just quote my own video? You’re so lame.” He said laughing at you.

“Shut up,” You chuckled as you threw a pillow at him, which he caught with no problem. “Just help me please.”

Grayson thought about it for a second before groaning and getting up saying, “Alright since you said please.” earning a laugh from you.

You swore you saw him smile after hearing you laugh, but quickly looked away as Grayson looked up at you. Was he smiling because of my laugh? Or because of his own joke?

Throughout the rest of the night, this unspoken connection between the two of you only continued on. Ethan and Grayson sat together on one part of the couch just how your brother and his girlfriend did on the other while you sat alone. The five of you sat around watching movies and eating snacks until you noticed you were running low on popcorn. “I’m going to get some more popcorn.” You said grabbing the bowl and heading into the kitchen.

As you waited for the popcorn to be done, your brother’s girlfriend came in and sat on the island eyeing you with a suspicious look on her face. “Yes?” you questioned.

“Nothing... Just wanted to know if there was something going on between you and Grayson yet.” She said swinging her legs back and forth like a little kid.

“We may or may not have gone out a couple of weeks ago...” You said avoiding her gaze and grabbing the bag out of the microwave.

“What? What do you mean you went out? Like on a date?! Ah!” She said excitedly.

“It wasn’t really a date we were just hanging out. I wasn’t having the best day and he was trying to cheer me up, that’s all.”

“So that’s where he was! We were all supposed to hangout that day, but I guess when your brother said something about you, he dropped everything and wouldn’t tell us where he was going. Grayson totally likes you!” She said with a huge smile on her face.

“He was just trying to be nice... That’s just how he is.” You said shrugging.

“Nice my ass. No guy drops everything just to cheer someone up unless he truly cares about them. Whether he knows it or not, there’s something between you two.”

“I don’t know... Sometimes I think there is and then other times he makes it seem like we’re just strictly friends. I’ve spent countless nights just trying to figure out the mess in my head. Just trying to figure out if he could like me too...” You said looking down while picking at your nail polish.

“Y/N... Don’t be like that. Ever since you entered Grayson’s life, before all of this, I have never seen him so different. He’s happier, more social, overall just a better person because of you,” She said grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and walking back to the living room, “Maybe there’s been feelings all along and you just didn’t notice until now...”

When you walked back into the living room, you noticed that Ethan was now in your seat. “Um E... I think that was my spot.” You said setting the bowl back onto the table.

“Yeah I know. Grayson told me to move so here I am.” Ethan said glancing back over at Grayson who was now alone and giving Ethan daggers.

“Dude...” Grayson hissed through his teeth before looking up at you and giving you a nervous smile.

“Um okay?” You said sitting down next to Grayson on the couch that seemed way too small for two people. Internally you didn’t mind at all, just going a bit insane over the fact how close you were to Grayson to the point where your hands were almost touching. No matter how far apart you two tried to sit from each other, the couch decided to say otherwise. And that’s how the night continued on, you two “accidentally” brushing against one another.

The five of you quietly watched the movie and when an ugly monster appeared on the screen, Grayson leaned over and whispered in your ear, “That’s you.”

You laughed at the comment, knowing he was just joking, but whispered back, “Really? Because I think you look more like the monster than you look like Ethan.” You were also joking of course, because Grayson was just the opposite. You turned towards him to see a fake offended expression on his face as you just laughed.

Grayson was falling in and out of sleep and didn’t realize you fell asleep until he felt his cheek hit your soft hair. He fluttered his tired eyes open only to realize everyone else had already gone to their rooms except you two. Grayson looked down at you peacefully sleeping on his shoulder and realized he wanted nothing more than to stay here with you forever. He took notice of your long eyelashes, even though you always said it wasn’t fair how long his was. He noticed soft snores coming from your mouth he was sure he was going to tease you about tomorrow. Everything in that moment made him wish he could just wake you up and tell you everything his heart wanted to say for so long, but his mind brought nothing but doubt. Doubt that you would never look at him the way he looked at you.

Growing tired again, he softly shook you awake but was only met with a mumbled, “Leave me alone.” He laughed knowing how much you loved your sleep, but still insisted on waking you up so your body wouldn’t ache the next morning from the small space on the couch.

“Come on bubs. You gotta get up.” He said removing the blanket from you two and getting up, even though it killed him inside not sitting there a little while longer.

“Mmmm tired.” You said now slumped over where Grayson was just sitting with your eyes still closed.

“Yeah I know. Now let’s get you to bed otherwise your back is going to hurt tomorrow from sleeping on this couch.” He said pulling on your arm.

“I was perfectly fine until you moved.” I was perfectly fine too... Grayson thought but quickly scratched that by pulling on your arm again.

“Stopppp.” You said still half asleep.

“Come on bubs... Ugh you’re like a bag of bricks.” Grayson said still trying to get you up.

You opened one eye to look up at him and said, “Did you really just quote your own video? You’re so lame.”

“Oh shut up.” He said when he finally connected the dots from what he said earlier that night, lightly laughing at your attempt to mock him.

After many attempts trying to get you to move, he gave up and said, “Alright. Come on.” He bent down and picked you up bridal style with no problem.

“W-What’s happening?” You said waking up for a brief moment, and snuggling closer to his chest instinctively.

“I’m taking you to bed since you won’t get up yourself.” He said starting to walk up the stairs to your room.

“Mmmk.” You responded too tired to argue with him.

Grayson softly closed the door to your bedroom and laid you gently on your bed and put the blanket over you. The moonlight shined through your window, softly illuminating your room enough so Grayson could still see your sleeping face, feeling his heart flutter at how beautiful you looked. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Goodnight bubs.” He said before walking out and closing the door.

The next morning you woke up in your bed, completely unaware of how you got there. All you could remember was being so nervous sitting next to Grayson that you couldn’t focus on anything else. You hated the fact that he consumed every fiber of your being, but you also loved it. You loved feeling so giddy and so happy every time you thought about him.

You got up and brushed your teeth before walking downstairs to notice the couch had been slept on. Not thinking anything of it, you walked into the kitchen and sat by the island scrolling aimlessly through your phone. A couple of minutes later a cute but sleepy Grayson walked into the kitchen doing the same and sitting across from you.

“Morning Gray.” You said trying to contain the smile on your face after seeing how cute he looked.

“Morning...” Grayson said while yawning, “bubs.”

You two sat in silence for a little while enjoying each other’s presence until Grayson said, “Hey I think everyone’s still asleep. Do you want to go out and grab some breakfast?”

“Yeah I love to. Just let me grab my stuff.” You said getting up and running up to your room quickly throwing on a hoodie and grabbing your purse.

When you got downstairs, Grayson was smiling at you and said, “Nice hoodie bubs.”

Confused, you looked down and saw that you were wearing his hoodie from that day he took you out. “Oh yeah haha. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Let’s go.”

On the way to breakfast, you belted out the lyrics to all of the songs you knew the words to. Grayson looked over at you and smiled at the fact you felt comfortable enough with him to be yourself, knowing how hard it was for you to open up to people.

When you both finished, Grayson laid back in the booth and said, “Ugh my back is killing me.”

“Gray did you sleep on the couch?” You asked hoping he said no. You knew from past experience that sleeping on the couch was not a comfortable experience whatsoever, every time you woke up your back hurt for days. And you knew it was going to be worse for Grayson since he barely fit on the couch to begin with.

“Maybe...” Grayson said playing with the remainder of his food.

“Gray. Why didn’t you sleep in the room with Ethan?”

“When I walked in there he was hogging the whole bed and wouldn’t move so I had no other choice.” He said shrugging his shoulders.

“You could’ve slept in my room.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you even realized you what you were saying. You could immediately feel the blush forming on your cheeks and the embarrassment beginning to form inside you. I can’t believe I just said that... what the fuck. “I um... I d-“ you were quickly cut off by the some guys you didn’t know rushing to the booth.

“Grayson is that you?” They said ignoring the fact that you were even there. You mind flashed back to when you felt like an outsider in your own friend group so you stayed quiet.

Grayson, however, greeted his friends with a quick hey and handshakes. “I haven’t seen you guys in so long. What’s up guys?”

“Just living life. But how about you man? What’s going on here? Are you like on a date or something?” One of the guys said looking back and forth between you two.

Grayson looked over at you and hesitated before saying, “Nah man. It’s definitely not a date. She’s just... a friend’s little sister.”

The second you heard those words, your heart sunk. Was he so embarrassed to be seen with me? So embarrassed at the fact that he couldn’t even introduce you as something other than his friend’s little sister... Maybe all of this was a lie.

They talked for a little while before saying their goodbyes as the waiter came and set down the check. You quickly grabbed it and put down some money before Grayson could even reach into his back pocket. Trying to get out of the situation, you quickly got up and said, “I think we should head back now. They’re probably up by now and wondering where we are.”

During the car ride back home, your mind still couldn’t forget what he had said about you. Right now the pit of your stomach continued to grow so you stayed quiet, not wanting to talk to Grayson. All of the sudden he turned down the volume and asked, “You okay?”

No. I don’t know what I am to you anymore. “Yeah I’m fine.” You said as he nodded his head and turned the volume back up.

When you got back to the house, Ethan, your brother, and his girlfriend were sitting at the table eating some breakfast. “Where were you guys?” Your brother asked.

“Just got some breakfast, that’s all.” Grayson said.

“That’s all?” Ethan asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Yeah that’s all. Just two people having some breakfast,” You said bluntly, avoiding Grayson walking straight pass him and up to your room. “Nothing more, nothing less.” It wasn’t that you were annoyed or mad at him. You were hurt. Hurt by the fact that he saw you as nothing but as a little sister. Hurt that he didn’t see you as your own person.

@kawennote09 @fireghost-x @this-and-that-with-meghan @graydolan12 @sweet-dolans @hollandhearts @parkers-onesie @cthoodsthetic @babygirlblogs-posts @w0nderr

[heathendolan]

People Like Grayson (G.D)

Summary: The last words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. 

Warnings: none besides swearing and a lot of sad stuff

A/N: hi everyone, maybe not the type of fic you wanted but i really wanted to challenge myself as a writer and write something that i would never typically write. honestly i could hardly do it i was an emotional wreck lol :// extended authors note here. Ethan’s version: Forget Me Nots.

Word Count: 14.9K+ || masterlist 

You waited until your fourteenth birthday to check what your wrist said.

You'd waited years until you really wanted to know, until you couldn't wait, and then you waited some more. You never saw the point in finding out; you weren't a fan of the future when your life was average and rocky, and you didn't want anything to be set in stone, including the words you'd hear echoing in your head torturously after you'd lost the one you would love. So, you avoided the ink like the black plague and hoped that maybe if you didn't know, it wouldn't happen.

But then, you were twelve and you stood at the wake of your grandpa's funeral with bloodshot eyes and a lawless hatred for the universe and you held your brother's hand like it was a lifeline. From the corner of your eye you saw your mother cry hysterically into her hands and that was just too much for you, no matter how much you bit on your lip, no matter how much blood seeped into your mouth, no matter how much you clenched your jaw to hold back strangled sobs, you couldn't hold it in, so you let it out. You shook your head and cursed your emotions, cursed your love for people, cursed your giant heart and the memories it held for the little old man who brought you to ice cream parlors every Sunday.

You curled in on yourself in the back of a church bench, wrapped your own weak arms around your own weak knees because you'd shoved away the affection of everyone else that night, because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that we spent our lives loving and losing and trying to deal with the aftermath of constant heartbreak. You were bawling into balled fists when you heard the creak of old wood beside you, and you feared it might be God himself coming to chastise you for your doubt, for your anger and your hostility.

But it wasn't. It was your grandma, sweet as honey and warm as the sun, grinning softly as she rubbed a wrinkled hand down your back. You scrubbed away your selfish tears, humiliated as you stared at the woman that would suffer the most from it all, the woman who smiled in sympathy as she lost her soulmate. "Darling you're going to flood the Sahara with all these tears," she cooed, chuckling as you groaned.

"Gram, I don't wanna go a Sunday without ice cream," you whispered, sucking in your bottom lip.

"Who says you gotta?" she asked.

You shrugged and picked at a loose thread in your very prickly dress. "Fate."

"Did fate kill all the cows and steal all the sugar?" she laughed, patting your thigh casually, and that stung more than anything--that your Grandma was cracking jokes for your sake when you were sure she was withering inside.

"Gram, it hurts," you breathed, your words practically inaudible. "Please don't act like everything's okay."

"But everything is, Sweetheart. I got all I need. I got closure," she beamed. She yanked up her shawl sleeve and ran her finger over the veiny skin of her wrist. "Says 'Don't forget to feed Brutus while I'm gone,'" she grinned, still petting the ink where it marked her.

You weren't quite sure how that could sugarcoat the fact that her husband was dead.

"He knows I forget. He knows me better than anyone else, and he just had said it as I sat in the hospital holdin' his hand. Such a bittersweet feeling knowing you spent your life with the right person as they die, and Honey, I had your grandpa for forty-eight years; had him for long enough for him to know me and love me too. Everything is okay."

Your eyes flooded once more and your nose stung. "What'd you say back?" you asked, your voice thick with emotion.

"Said 'Don't forget to love me when you leave,'" she smiled, squeezing your leg painfully tight and you knew it hurt her. But then she was chuckling all raspy and saying, "Bastard. Gave him such a romantic tattoo, and all I have is this reminder," with a laugh, waving her wrist.

-

So, you waited two more years to find out, itching with curiosity.

Waited until you wanted to know, and then when you really wanted to know, you waited some more. So, you sat at the counter with your birthday cake in front of you, illuminated with fourteen rainbow candles. "Alright go ahead- wait, hold on, let me get the camera," your mom squealed, running off. You stared down at the frosting with a watering mouth and watched the wax dribble down under the heat. "Okay, okay. Make a wish!" she cheered, snapping pictures left and right.

You sucked in a chest-full of air and puffed out your cheeks, blowing out the flames one by one. Let it be good, let the words be good, let him be good, let life be good, let it be-

"What'd you wish for?!" your mom shouted, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Mom, stop, you're being weird," you chuckled nervously.

"Oh, don't tell me fourteen comes with this angsty teenage sass?" she wailed. You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head. "See! None of that," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"Well, I can't tell you my wish, then it won't come true," you whined.

"Don't tell me you believe that old myth, c'mon, share with your momma," she grinned, pulling up a stool and propping her chin on her fist.

You glared at your cake, twisting the candles out of the glaze. You did believe that old myth. "Of course I don't, you just don't need to know everything about me," you sniffed haughtily.

Your mom cocked her head, a disapproving frown on her lips. "(Y/N)."

"Fine," you groaned dramatically. "I'm just hoping my soulmate words are good. Well, as good as they can be. They're gonna be bad either way since my soulmate will be dead after I hear 'em," you shrugged, sucking the frosting off the bottom of a candle. You grabbed the kitchen knife beside the platter and sliced a slit into the fluff. After a few beats of silence, you dragged the slice onto your plate and mumbled, "And I don't care if you think that's dumb. I just want life to be good."

Your mom cleared her throat and you glanced up at her. "I didn't realize you hadn't looked yet," she frowned, grabbing the knife and dishing herself her own slice. "I didn't realize you thought so cynically about your words, either."

You glared at her and said, "I don't know how you can think so positively about them. They're torture. And that's not my 'teenage angst' speaking or whatever, that's realism. What if you don't meet the right one, and you spend your whole life with someone else, only to find out that they're not actually the one? Or that you've already heard them, and you don't even know it. It's stupid, like how do you even know if Dad's the one? That's right, you don't." You stabbed your fork too aggressively into your birthday cake, feeling more miserable by the second.

"Missy, I don't know where this know-it-all complex came from, but until you fall in love with someone, you don't know what you're talking about. I'd risk everything for your father, so if he's not the one, I couldn't care less. I'm insanely in love with him. I'm sorry babe, but life isn't gonna be that bad for you," she smirked, shoveling a forkful of cake into her mouth. You mumbled your mouth in mimicry, and she reached over and smacked your head.  "Enough of that, and I'm not kidding. I'll take your phone. Where's my sweet thirteen-year-old?" she frowned.

"She's dead and gone," you smirked, chomping down on another chunk of dessert. "Thank you for the cake, mother dearest," you drawled, tossing aside your attitude and kissing her on the head. "And thank you for the great birthday. Now, I'm off to go look at my words. Read 'em and weep," you snorted sarcastically.

You clambered up the stairs to your bedroom, taking the steps two at a time. Your hands shook a bit as you sealed your door shut, locking you in a silent room full of nervous, breathy sighs. Okay. Okay, you can do this. You trudged over to your bed and fixed yourself crisscross-applesauce on it, sucking in a deep breath. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.

So, you flipped over your wrist quickly, in hopes of ripping the band-aid off--but it would only open up a fresh new, undeniably painful wound.

It was nice to meet you.

What? you thought, your lip wobbling as your eyes studied each word separately, then together, then again, and again, and again.

It was nice to meet you.

What the fuck did that mean? You're only ever going to meet them, and then lose them right after? What?

It was nice to meet you.

No, no, no.

It was nice to meet you.

You tangled your fingers in your hair, tore knots in it and yanked out hair with shaky hands. This was a joke right? A fucking joke?

You only vaguely remember screaming, screaming bloody murder and sobbing profusely. It wasn't until your mom busted down your door that you realized you were deaf to the world--apart from the high pitched ringing echoing in your ears. Your lips were numb, your hands were numb, your legs were numb, and the only thing you could really feel was the anxiety churning in the pit of your stomach and your heart thumping radically in your chest.

What's wrong? you saw your mom mouth, undoubtedly screaming, but fuck, you couldn't hear. You wailed and thrashed; you'd take your Grandma's 'Don't forget to feed Brutus while I'm gone' etching over this any day. You'd take anything but this; you'd do anything to get your soulmate the way everyone else did; for life. Your mom yanked your wrist to her and reflexively gasped into her hand. And you might have laughed bitterly, or you might have cried harder--didn't matter to you.

Yeah Mom, life is gonna be that bad for me.

-

You sat with Anna at a coffee table, disgustingly-sweet frappuccino in one hand, phone in the other. "Did you see Karlie got lowlights? What is this, 2004?" she spat, shaking her head with a pair of wide eyes.

"They might look good," you shrugged, licking away a drizzle of caramel syrup from the rim of your cup. "Besides, absolutely nothing can be worse than her bubblegum pink hair from last year," you snorted. Anna flipped her phone to you, and you squinted at the picture. "Oh, oh god, never mind," you winced, sipping from your straw.

"Uh-huh," Anna nodded, scrolling with her thumb.

"So, how's Chris?" you asked with a smirk, flexing a brow.

She curled her lip and shook her head. "Not feeling it."

"Anna, come on. You've ditched every guy you've dated so far," you said, cocking your head disapprovingly.

"So? I'm sixteen, what do you want me to do, marry them?" she laughed dryly and rolled her eyes.

And maybe that did sound a bit stupid on your part. "Well, no, but who do you really want? Like, what are you looking for that they don't have? Cause Chris is rich as hell--if you're not gonna take him, I will," you giggled, grinning warmly at her in hopes of rekindling the carefree atmosphere you had only moments before.

She smirked and said, "I don't know, just none of them compare to your brother," airily. You suddenly couldn't care less if there was a carefree atmosphere; she was pissing you off too. "I'm kidding!" she exclaimed, stirring her latte with a straw.

But you knew she wasn't.

"Besides, he's like, way older and- and I don't even think about him that way," she bluffed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, which was her lying tick.

"Uh-huh," you chuckled, shaking your head. "Whatever, I don't care."

"Speaking of soulmates, got any ideas of-"

"Whoa, holy fuck, you did not just call my brother your soulmate!" you screeched. Everyone in the cafe turned their heads in interest, ready to hear the juicy details of this real-life soap opera. She ducked her head low, her face tomato red, and you squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Sorry. Kind of. Anna, what?" you sighed, sliding a hand down your face.

She cowered beneath your gaze and said, "I mean, nobody knows for certain, but-"

"Anna."

She groaned and pressed her head against the table and mumbled something incoherently.

"Anna."

She stomped her feet against the coffee shop's floor. "I'm in love with your brother. And my wrist says 'Please spend Christmas with my family even after I'm gone, you know my mom loves your apple crisp,' so I think that's pretty damning," she squeaked.

And it was. Your mom loved her apple crisp.

"Fucking aye," you growled, falling back against your seat with a stone expression. You didn't want to be sour--it's not like she chose her soulmate. It wasn't even necessarily that it was your brother, it was that she had someone for life and you didn't.

"(Y/N), look, I'm sorry," she gushed, grabbing your hand from across the table. "If I could choose anyone else, I would. But-"

"But you can't choose, and I get that. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at everything else," you explained, shrugging a shoulder.

"What do you mean?" she asked timidly, propping her chin on her fist.

"I mean, I'm pissed that you get a soulmate," you grumbled, pounding the table with your fist. And Anna looked like she might cry. "No, no, no, sorry, okay, no," you rushed out when it dawned on you just how awful that sounded. "I-"

"You don't think I deserve a soulmate?" she croaked, curling in on herself.

"No, Anna you know I think you deserve a soulmate," you sighed. You picked at your cuticles with a scowl, unsure just how to go about explaining that you'd be alone, forever. She waited patiently, sadly, quietly. "I don't get a soulmate. Well, not for long, at least," you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes.

"What?" she breathed.

You shoved your wrist in her face and avoided that sympathetic gaze she was bound to give you. You heard her gasp softly, and then she was tugging you into her tightly. And you cried on her shoulder in the middle of that coffee shop, and that's all you needed for a second, some release.

-

"I left money for pizza on the counter, her bedtime's 9:30 and she'll definitely try and convince you to let her stay up and watch Looney-Tunes, and she's good at it too okay, she can nearly persuade me, but just, be strong. Also, she'll use these super cute eyes and ask for Kit-Kats, just, don't give them to her, especially since she's already had two donuts today, god what kind of mother am I-"

"Carol, get out of here," you chuckled, shooing her from the door. "Brooke and I are gonna have an awesome night, aren't we Brookie Dough?" you asked, bouncing her where she clung to your hip. Brooke giggled and nodded, tangling her stubby fingers in your hair.

"Okay, okay!" Carol said, waving her hands about. "But seriously, no Looney-Tunes, it ends after 10:00 and that's way too late for her-"

"Carol!"

"Fine! Alright, bye you two," she smiled, backing out of the house and slamming the front door shut.

You grinned devilishly down at Brooke as soon as you saw Carol's car pull out onto the street. "You wanna Kit-Kat?"

"Yes, please," she giggled, crooked-teeth in full display.

You laughed and nodded, juggling her as you walked to the kitchen, grabbing a basket stowed away on the top shelf. You held it out for her and said, "Just one." Brooke nodded furiously before grabbing two, layering them discreetly, and you pretended not to notice. With a chuckle, you asked, "Where's your momma going?"

She hugged the candy bars to her tummy, attempting to be discreet. "Ummm, she's going out on a date with Daddy. And she says- and she says he's her mate person," Brooke says, cupping her hands around your ear and whispering not-so-quietly.

"Oh, that's good!" you cheered, your stomach wrenching at the thought of soulmates.

"Yeah, her wrist- and her wrist says, 'I'm glad'- it says 'I'm glad we spent our whole lives together,'" Brooke mumbled, her words stringing together messily.

Jealousy sprouted in you and your heart began to ache. "Well, your momma and daddy are very lucky to have one another," you said, kissing her temple.

"What's yours say?" Brooke asked, jabbing you in the wrist.

The permanent smile you wore for babysitting duties faltered a bit, but you quickly recovered and said, "It says, 'Hey, it was nice to meet you.' Not very exciting." You forced a laugh and pinched her side, sending her into a fit of giggles. "What does yours say, Brookie Dough?"

She giggled some more and pulled up her knitted sweater. "I don't know, I can't read yet," she said. Above it was a temporary tattoo of a butterfly, iridescent and glittery and childish and perfect. "Can you read it to me?" she asked flashing her wrist to you.

You grabbed it and scanned the tattoo. Your total will be 3.58. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

"Gosh, I can't read it either, Brookie-Bear!" you fibbed, animating your lie with a shocked, believable expression. You weren't sure if you were awful for postponing her heartbreak, or kind for letting her learn on her own, just as you had.

"That's what momma and daddy said, too!" she laughed, shaking her head so her curls bobbed around. "Weird."

And that's when you realized you didn't have it so bad. So, you gave Brooke another Kit-Kat, flipped the television on, and let her watch Looney-Tunes until 11:00 PM.

-

Sunshine peaked from your cloudy mind after that, because someone out there was always going to have it worse than you, and that was just a fact.

"So, you gonna throw a rager for your eighteenth?" you smirked, eyeing Anna in the passenger seat.

"Maybe if you can get my parents to fuck off for a weekend," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "No, I'm kidding. Kind of. I don't think I'll be able to if they're home, obviously, so probably not," she shrugged. "What about you? Your B-day is pretty close, too," she said, poking your arm.

"Nah, can't throw one or drink at one, Mom would kill me," you laughed.

Anna groaned and dragged a hand down her face. "Dude, you gotta live on the edge for once in your life. What's the worst that could happen?"

"That's one stupid fucking question," you chuckled, pulling into your driveway.

"Okay, but what's the best that could happen?" she prompted, hope in her voice and a skip in her step.

"Harry Styles spontaneously makes a pit stop in New Jersey and absolutely rails me-"  

"(Y/N), you're disgusting," she laughed, shoving you into your house.

"I'm disgusting? You literally have a kink for-"

"Don't say another fucking word," your brother garbled around a mouthful of Special K. He was lounging on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table with Rugrats reruns playing, and Anna's breath hitched and her face blushed a furious red, just as it always did when she was around your brother, and you smacked her upside the head.

"You really are disgusting," you grimaced, strutting into the kitchen.

"Hey," your brother shouted, still chomping on his cereal. "You have some mail from Berkeley," he mentioned casually.

You spun on your heel, sprinting back towards the living room, grabbing his head. "What?"

He scrunched up his face and swatted at your jazzy hands. "Ew, get off of me," he groaned.

"Oh my god, why wouldn't you tell me as soon as I walked in the door?! Why aren't you excited?! Why-"

"Jesus Christ (Y/N), just go open the fucking letter," he grumbled, jerking his head away from your hands.

Anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you scampered off to the kitchen, rounding the corners by sliding on your socks, and rummaged through the mail, tearing a few envelopes in your haste. Your hands fluttered as you shredded the casing. You could hardly hear anything over the coursing of blood through your ears. Through tunnel vision, you examined the letter.

Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),

On behalf of the Admission Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to University of California, Berkeley-

"Holy fuck!" you screamed, your arms flying skyward compulsively. "I got into Berkeley!" You darted all around your home, working the seemingly-endless supply of adrenaline out of your system. "Anna! Anna, I got into Berkeley!" you cried, your hands flailing around. "Anna! Anna! Anna, you got into Berkeley too!"

"We got into Berkley!" she yelled, tackling you in a hug. You could only return it momentarily, squeezing with all your might before breaking away with another surge of energy.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I can't believe- Oh my god," you screeched, back to hustling about the house.

Your brother paused his Rugrats and between bites, said, "Hey, you make it in?"

"Yes! Oh my god, I can not-"

"Yeah no shit, the whole neighborhood knows," he snorted. "But hey, congrats. Proud of you, (Y/N)."

You bit your lip and squealed, hopping in place. "I'd hug you but-"

"No, please don't, that's okay," he cringed, resuming his cartoon. You rolled your eyes, before prancing around, skipping as you paced through the house, 'cause you made it into Berkeley.

-

Your brother walked through your dorm room door carrying the mini fridge and the microwave and the coffee maker with strained muscles. Anna's eyes bugged out at them, and you smacked her upside the head.

"Where.. do you want.. this stuff," he muttered, before immediately dropping the boxes to the ground with a crash, undoubtedly breaking something.

"Great fucking job, you probably broke the Keurig," you huffed, pinning him with a glare.

"You're pissed that I carried up all this shit for you-"

"-and Anna!"

-and Anna, and I set it down?" he asked incredulously, his face contorted with annoyance.

"Obviously I'm not pissed that you set it down, I'm pissed that you dropped it like an idiot-"

"Oh, so I'm an idiot for helping?" he barked, his hands flying around.

"No! You're an idiot for-"

Anna's head fell back and she groaned, "Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up, both of you."

And you stopped because it was Anna, and your brother stopped because it was Anna. You glanced at him to find him watching her with those googly-eyes he so-often gave her, and you smacked your forehead. You were not putting up with their bullshit today.

"Okay. Anna, top or bottom bunk?" you asked, craning your neck to the stacked beds.

"Bottom bunk."

You stamped your foot childishly and said, "No! I want bottom bunk."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"To be nice!"

"Too late," she shrugged.

"Okay, I don't think that's-"

Your brother crossed his arms and added his two cents. "Anna should get the bottom bunk if she wants it."

You were irritable and cranky and annoyed. But before you could spit out something nasty, Anna said, "Look, there's only one desk, and I know you need to work at a desk in order to study. So, I'll use my space on the bottom bunk for a study spot, and you get the top bunk but you get the desk too. That's fair, and you know it."

You weighed your options, and then realized you had none because Anna was right and blindly supported by your brother. You set your jaw and said, "Fine."

"So it looks like you two are getting along great as roommates already," your brother snorted. You scowled at him, which did nothing, and Anna ignored him, which was enough to wipe the grin off his face. You pinched your eyes shut and counted to ten before you heaved a dramatic sigh and began fitting your sheets on the top bunk.

-

Kraigshaw droned on and on about the importance of velocity and you had absolutely zero interest. You leaned back in your seat, rearranging every few seconds when the wood dug uncomfortably into your spine and shuffled your legs. With a sigh, you flopped forward and began doodling a cartoon beach on the margin of your notebook.

A boy behind you grunted and fidgeted furiously, rustling around in his very squeaky chair.

You shaded in the masts of your comic sailboat, tuning out both the professor and the idiot behind you.

But he kept whining.

So, you twisted in your seat and said, "Dude, are you okay?"

He scowled at you with dazzling hazel eyes that stirred something warm in your stomach. "I'm fucking dyslexic. I can't keep up with his slides."

And then you kind of felt like an ass, because you were rude to a person with a learning disorder, and he was really, really gorgeous. "Oh."

"Yeah," he sniped, setting his jaw and rolling his eyes.

Your professor clapped his hands together with finality and said, "Alright y'all, that's enough for the day. I'll see you all... Tuesday? No, Wednesday, sorry." Students clambered out of their seats and up the lecture hall stairs, desperate to ditch physics as quickly as possible.

The boy behind you groaned and let his head fall into his hands pathetically. "I don't get any of this fucking shit," he grumbled.

You bit your lip, and without a moment's thought, said, "I could help you," because he looked so sad, and your heart simply couldn't take it.

He peeped through his fingers. "What?" he asked.

"Could help you, with physics. I'm not that good, but I'm not that bad either. Or, at least help you with the slides. If you want. If you don't then never m-"

"No, I'd love that, I would love that so much," he insisted, nodding frantically.

You giggled and grinned at him. "When are you open? I don't have class until three, so-"

"I'm free right now, I'm done for the day. We could go to the library or one of our dorms, but I don't recommend mine cause my brother Ethan is such an ass and-"

"We can go to mine," you smiled, nervous jitters coursing through you. What if he thinks my room smells weird. Wait what? What am I thinking-

"Perfect, it's probably cleaner than mine too," he laughed.

But it wasn't clean. You laughed for conversation's sake, and then frenziedly texted Anna to clean the room ASAP.

"Mine's good. Um, what's your name?" you giggled, collecting your belongings and striding towards the door, mystery boy on your heels.

"Grayson, how about you?" You could hardly respond, you were stuck on the fact that his name was Grayson and how fitting that was for someone as stunning as himself. Grayson. "What's your name?" he tried again awkwardly.

"Oh, sorry, uh, it's (Y/N). My name's (Y/N)," you fumbled, your cheeks boiling. "Not as cool as Grayson, I know," you laughed.

"Are you kidding? That's a beautiful name," he breathed, stepping in time next to you. "I mean- I mean it is, I-I just- I didn't mean to-" he squeaked, his words jumbling together nervously.

"Thank you, Grayson," you smiled. You'd never been this nervous in your life, you nearly got lost on your way to your dorm, despite having lived there for nearly a month. "I don't know why I'm so nervous right now," you blurted for some unknown reason. You wanted a hole to swallow you up.

"Me too!" Grayson cheered, really laughing for the first time since you'd met him. Dimples popped in the creases of his cheeks and you sucked in a short breath, feeling dizzy and tingly all over. "It's probably because you're really pretty," he confessed, his voice cracking halfway through 'pretty', and he slapped a hand over his mouth with embarrassment.

"I think you're pretty too!" you cried, and then winced. "Handsome, I meant handsome. Well, I meant pretty, but handsome works too. All of those adjectives that mean attractive," you rambled, feeling stupider and stupider by the second. Grayson ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, and you thought your heart might just burst.

You rummaged through your pockets for your dorm key and busted down the door, praying to god Anna cleaned it up before she left for her 1 o'clock. "I don't know that much about physics, but I have a pretty good handle on the math stuff and the history part and the vocab and stuff," you shrugged, dumping your stack of books on your desk.

"That's everything."

You rolled your eyes, "But it's not everything. But I'll try," you mumbled, flipping open your binder. Grayson grinned down at you with the softest of smiles, and you realized physics could be your favorite subject.

You had spent a few hours pouring over formulas and equations (and completely sidetracking with conversation), when you slapped the textbook shut, pinching your nose.

"That's enough for the day, I can't read the word velocity one more time," you groaned, falling back against your chair. Grayson chuckled and agreed, fidgeting nervously where he sat on your desk. 

"What are you fussing for?" you asked, teasing him comfortably after spending a few hours with him.

"Nothing," he denied, anxiety in his voice.

"Grayson." He avoided your eyes, so you repeated, "Grayson.”

"I wanna kiss you, okay!" he exclaimed, his hands flying defensively. Your jaw dropped, and then his head sunk into his hands, and he started cursing himself. "Just ignore me, okay. I didn't mean to do that."

It took you a few moments, but you finally worked up the courage to say, "Then kiss me."

And Grayson's eyes bugged cartoonishly, and you shrunk back in your seat and let him scurry over to you, pad either side of your face with his hands, and kiss you clumsily with all the electricity in the world.

Physics was definitely your favorite subject. 

-

"Who knew Cali was so hot," Grayson groaned, screening his eyes with a hand.

The air smelled of tropical tanning oil and chlorine, which was ideal for the blistering heat California so-graciously gifted you. You were stretched out on your stomach, soaking up the sun, Grayson at arms reach, with Ethan fetching you lemonade--life was good. "Literally everyone. It's one of those notoriously hot states," you snorted, nuzzling your nose in the crook of your arm. You peeped open on of your eyes to gauge his reaction. However, Grayson was squinting at his arm with a frown, ignoring you completely.

"Think I got sun poisoning," he mumbled, folding up to inspect his skin better.

"Not possible, we've only been out here for an hour," you laughed, rolling your eyes. "Always so dramatic," you sing-songed vexingly.

His eyebrows shot up and he held up his arm pointedly.

You cocked your head, amused by his theatrics, before yanking his arm over to you so you could fuss over him properly. A nest of butterflies wrestled in your tummy as your fingers brushed over his words, far too scared to ever look at them since they couldn't possibly be meant for you, but you were quickly distracted by the fact that Grayson did indeed have dark red speckles blooming across his skin. "Huh," you muttered, poking your tongue against your cheek.

"See! I'm not the dramatic one, Ethan is," he huffed, pushing at you playfully.

You caught his hand and pulled him towards you, grabbing his jaw and kissing his cheek. "Mmm, no you're still dramatic," you teased, smacking a few more kisses wherever your lips landed. "You're scruffy too," you admired, tapping your fingers against his five-o'clock shadow.

And then he was grabbing your face and scrubbing his stubbly chin all along your cheeks, scratching your skin and giggling like a kid.

"No! Grayson, Grayson!" you screamed, squealing. Grayson chuckled and continued his torture, buffing your skin with his prickly jaw. "I'm gonna get a burn," you whined, pushing at his bare chest.

"Oh, I can't imagine what a burn would feel like right now," he mocked, gesturing to his patchy skin. "And you say I'm dramatic." You giggled and pinched his chin, beckoning obedient lips to yours, kissing him just as you'd practiced hundreds of times before. He was lazy to slide off his pool chair, climbing aboard yours and pressing a palm to your slippery, tan-oiled skin, moving his mouth against yours in that mesmeric way that he did. His kisses slid sideways, exploring their way to your jaw, to your neck, that spot by your ear, the tops of your collarbones and the knoll of your shoulder.

Your fingers teased the nape of his neck, swirling a stray strand around the tip of your finger, and you said, "Gray, nuh-uh, Gray," you laughed as he snuggled deeper against you. "It's too hot--your skin proves it. God, I can't believe you got sun poisoning," you frowned, shaking your head. You dragged a hand down his arm until you reached his blemished forearm. You scowled at the skin. "Stupid."

"Stupid?" Grayson blurted with laughter. "Did you just call my skin stupid?"

You shrugged with a poorly-suppressed grin and said, "Well no, I meant the sun. Your skin's stupid too, though."

"The sun is stupid, as well as my skin?"

"Do I really need to explain everything I say?" you griped, shoving his hovering body out of the way. "Now, move. We need to get you inside before you turn to bacon," you insisted, dragging him by his wrist.

"Bacon? What do you mean, ba-"

"Christ, Grayson."

-

You laid in your top bunk, completely smushed in your twin-sized bed with Grayson. "Can't wait until we can get out of this dorm," you groaned, pressing your fist against the ceiling that was a hair shy of touching your nose. Grayson grunted in agreement. "Actually, I can't wait until we can get out this college. Like, I love it and all, but I have so many things I want to do."

Grayson turned his head to you and kissed your cheekbone, sending a flurry of butterflies to your stomach. "Like what?" he murmured, his lips moving against your cheek.

You grinned and said, "A lot of things. Like even just in the state of California."

"We could do those together," he prompted, squeezing your side where he held you.

"Could we?!" you gasped, flipping over to face him. He chuckled and nodded.

"Say the place and I'll take you there," he smirked, brushing a stray hair out of your eyes.

You couldn't be more in love with him.

"Alright..." you breathed, filing through your brain for all those little spots you were dying to see. "Well, there's Point Reyes, first of all. That's the number one stop. We are going their first, and not a single place before," you stated pointedly, jabbing his chest.

"Alright, noted," he chuckled, sliding both his arms around the small of your back.

"And then, we're gonna go to Glacier Point. They have the best star gazing I've been told, and I love me some stars," you nodded, completely blissful at the thought. "And then, we're going to Big Sur Coastline and going cliff diving. And then-"

You yapped for hours and hours about all your favorite destinations without ever picking out dates for these wondrous ideas, because you had all the time in the world with Grayson.

-

Anna shuffled into the library, balancing two coffees and two donuts atop her laptop. "You think they'd give me like a carrier or something," she sniffed haughtily, setting everything down gently.

"Cut 'em some slack, do you think everyone just bends at your will?" you laughed, hardly lifting your head from your textbook.

"I will eat your donut."

You snorted and fake gasped. "You wouldn't," you cried dramatically, earning you a glare from a neighboring student, and you just smiled at them. "Besides, you actually wouldn't. You'd complain about the extra carbs and blah, blah, blah," you smirked, grabbing your sprinkled donut and chomping down on it.

She curled her lip at you and rolled her eyes. "Whatcha working on?"

"Physics. I gotta redo my notes, they're all messy..." you frowned, combing through your stack of papers for that one equation.

"Fuck, can you help me with that? I have no idea-"

"I gotta help Grayson too..." you mumbled unapologetically.

"Oh, that's not fair. He's your boyfriend, he gets help from you all the time," she whined, grabbing your donut and taking a huge bite. "I'm not sorry for this, either."

"Well now you're definitely not getting my help," you grumbled, grabbing your stuff.

"Dude, don't leave because I took a bite of the donut I bought you," she scowled, rightfully irritated.

"Oh, I'm not," you snorted. "Grayson's just waiting in our room for me to tutor him. But thank you for the donut," you said, shoving the round into your mouth. "Means a lot," you spoke through a mouthful of pastry.

As you walked back to your dorm, you munched happily on your food and sipped your very sugary drink. You twisted the key in it's slot, propped open the door, and said, "Hey babe."

"I thought you'd never show up," Grayson groaned and shimmied out of the covers of your mattress, before angling himself and springing from the top rung of your ladder, and dropping to the floor.

A sickening crack sounded, immediately followed by the painful howls of Grayson, and it all happened so fast you nearly had whiplash. "What? Gray what happened?" you shouted, rushing to his aid, panic pooling in the pit of your throat, and you felt as if you couldn't breathe at the sounds of his cries.

"I think I broke my ankle," Grayson wheezed with wide eyes, still thrashing with agony.

-

"So you're saying you just jumped, maybe six feet high, and broke your ankle?" Dr. Schneit frowned, tapping a pen against his pursed lips.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying," Grayson grumbled, glaring at his boot.

"And... of course this is unusual," Schneit thought aloud, squinting at his chart. "You seemed to be in peak physical condition a few months ago."

Grayson blushed across the tops of his cheeks and said, "Well, I don't know about peak. I've been pretty tired lately, and headaches and stuff."

Dr. Schneit's brows sloped further. "Grayson, it says here you've lost twenty pounds since you came in September. Did you notice any weight loss?"

You could tell Grayson was clearly sheepish about speaking on this subject, so you quickly said, "Gray, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and get a coffee, I'll be right back," and deserted him with privacy.

You roamed the halls until you found the restroom and ducked in. As you shut the stall door, two nurses ushered in and began chatting, their conversation echoing throughout the tiled walls too loudly to be ignorable. "Lisa won't even take my shift tomorrow. She's all, 'I have a bachelorette party tomorrow night and I want to get a good night's rest' and whatever."

The other girl hummed in affirmation. "Totally typical of her. She never takes shifts but she's always asking for them off."

"Yeah, and like, I don't want to be here for the bone marrow test cause that shit chokes me up."

"No way, who's it for?"

"Some kid who broke his ankle. Literally just fell on it and it shattered."

"Shit, he's gonna have tons of blasts. That's really sad, dude."

"I know, I don't want to be there to take his stuff. I'll start crying."

Your heart was racing at a trillion miles an hour and you pushed out of the stall and into the hallway again, your blood coursing through your ears. You sped back to Grayson's exam room, a sick churning feeling in your stomach, and you pressed your ear against the door to listen.

"Does your family have any track record of cancer, Grayson?" Dr. Schneit asked.

Silence.

"Grayson?"

After a few beats, Gray said, "Yeah. Dad."

"Alright..." Schneit replied, shuffling through papers. More silence. "Do you know what type?"

More silence.

"Grayson, this kind of information is important."

Grayson cleared his throat, which was clearly thick with emotion, and said, "No. I was too young."

"And your mom never mentioned-"

"No."

More silence.

"Shows here that your twin, Ethan, is your emergency contact. Does that still stand?"

"Yeah. But you could add (Y/N) (Y/L/N) as my second emergency contact."

You shoved open the door then and smiled tightly at the two of them. You slid into your seat beside Grayson and immediately clasped his hand in yours, hoping it could calm the horrible shakes you had. Grayson lifted up his other arm and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with your presence during his exam but you couldn't help it, you needed him right now, as selfish as that was.

"Grayson, what's that on your arm?" Dr. Schneit mumbled, wheeling his chair over your chairs. "How long have you had that?"

"This?" Grayson murmured, craning his arm in Dr. Schneit's path of vision. "Sun poisoning. I don't know, a few weeks."

Dr. Schneit shook his head and bit a wobbling lip. "W-we're going to have you, have you come back in tomorrow, maybe around 10ish? Whenever you're comfortable. Whenever it fits your schedule Grayson, take your time," he assured, patting Grayson's shoulder in an attempt for comfort.

-

Cancer.

You watched Grayson's face crumple, and you hoped yours wouldn't, because you had to be strong for him.

"Grayson, there are treatment options. You're in stage three, which means you have a chance. We could..."

Schneit droned on and on and you rocked Grayson's crunched body. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.

"Grayson, your ankle broke because you have acute myeloid leukemia, or AML for short. It's a blood and bone marrow cancer, so your bones were extremely weak and that little jump was enough for them to collapse under pressure. It's a very... very quick spreading cancer. The first sign was that 'sun poisoning' as you called it. It was actually petechiae, which is surfaced blood from eaten away blood vessels. The white blood cells in your body-"

Grayson's shoulders began to shake with sobs and you whimpered, falling on top of him and exhaling blubbery wheezes.

You were convinced you really had jinxed your life the day you told your mom your birthday wish, because life? Life was not good.

-

"First round of chemo today," Grayson mumbled, bouncing his leg at an alarming speed.

"Gonna be there for you the whole while, G," you promised, leaning forward and kissing him. He fisted a chunk of your hair, really pulling you in tight, and slotting your mouths together to distract him, and you welcomed it generously. You pulled back and kissed his cheeks and his nose, and mumbled, "It's gonna be okay. I've got you."

Grayson blew air out his cheeks and nodded, staring down at his feet, mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" you asked.

"I might lose my hair," he croaked, playing with a loose thread in his sweatpants.

"You're already too hot for your own good. You'll pull it off, I just know it," you grinned, running your fingers through his messy locks.

He looked up at you and smirked softly, leaning forward once more to peck your lips. "I love you."

You felt that rush of feeling, that indescribable feeling, and nodded. "You know I love you too. Is Ethan coming?"

Grayson's positivity seeped out of him and he shook his head, glaring at the wall. "No, said he couldn't miss his lecture. Promised he'd be here for the next one, though."

You nodded, your blood boiling beneath the surface. If you could ditch your bio lab, Ethan could miss a lecture. "Well, that's okay, cause I'll be supportive enough for the two of us."

Dr. Schneit rapped his knuckles against the door and creaked it open. "Good morning Grayson, are you ready?"

Grayson squeezed your hand so viciously you thought it might break, but you just kissed his cheek. "I'll be here." And with that, he left the room with a nurse, thanking Dr. Schneit on his way out.

You hung your head between your hands, utterly heartbroken at the sight of your boyfriend walking out the door towards cancer treatment.

"He thanked me. He thanked on his way to get chemo, which I prescribed. He thanked me for putting him through hell," Dr. Schneit said with an emotionless gaze.

You nodded your head. "That's just the kind of person Gray is."

-

Grayson intertwined your fingers together, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "Hey, baby?"

You glanced up from your book and turned to him in your shared cot. "Hmm."

He was biting his lip nervously and squeezing your hand subconsciously, so you folded your novel shut. "Could you- Could you maybe wash my hair?" he asked. "Hurts to lift my arms."

You grinned at him and nodded. "Of course, babe. Wanna do it right now?" you asked.

He nodded sheepishly, and you pulled him off the stiff hospital bed and into the suite bathroom. "I haven't been able to wash it in forever--it's probably so gross," he groaned.

You laughed and shrugged. "I mean, I'm washing it, it's not like I can't wash my hands as I do it."

"Well I'm thankful," he gushed sarcastically, palming his heart. You shoved his shoulder, twisted the tap, and waited for him to get comfy. When he dunked his head beneath the water, you lathered your hands with cheap hospital soap and said, "We need to get you some better shampoo. This stuff is so gross."

He snorted and said, "Yeah, how about you just bring me your $20 shampoo-"

"Not even in your dreams. Not everyone gets to have luscious locks like mine," you drawled snobbishly, grinning.

He rolled his eyes and grinned with dimples. "I think I deserve it," he prodded, squeezing your calf where it draped over the tub.

"Keyword: think. Sorry champ," you smirked, digging your hands into his mane. You scrubbed at the gunk with gentle hands, sudsing up every strand.

"Then I could smell like you all day," he giggled happily, his eyes drifting shut under your touch.

You tangled your fingers all through his hair and then pushed his head beneath the faucet again. "Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to smell your cologne, and that's one of those girlfriend perks that I'm not ready to give up."

Gray might have responded, but you were too shocked to soak up what he was saying. His hair was flowing from his head as the water ran through it. Clean off. Not all of it, but a lot of it, and it was disappearing down the drain.

"(Y/N)?" Grayson asked, flicking your leg. "What's wrong?"

Should you tell him? "Uh," you stalled, glancing down at your fingers that were littered with his hair. "Nothing's wrong. Your hair's just falling out, that's all," you tried to sound casual, as if this was inevitable and common and not heartbreaking.

Grayson froze and scrambled out of his position and to the mirror, gawking at himself. It wasn't super bad, but it was noticeable--he'd probably have to buzz his hair.

"I'm going to be bald," he breathed, staring back at you with saucers for eyes. He pulled at the strands that flattened to his forehead and whimpered as they stuck to his fingers.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Yeah. Want me to shave it?" you asked quickly.

Grayson cocked his head and stared at you with an unreadable expression. "Really?"

Heat flooded your cheeks and you feared you overstepped your boundaries. "Just thought it'd be easier-"

"You don't care that I won't have hair?" he mumbled.

And if that wasn't the most ridiculous thing you'd ever heard.

You shook your head and laughed out loud, covering your mouth. "Gray, what?"

"I'm going to be ugly."

And then you were really laughing, with wheezes and an incurable case of the giggles. "Grayson, you couldn't be ugly if you fucking tried," you gasped. "Enough of this bullshit, I'm gonna go ask the nurse for a razor," you snorted, rolling your eyes and turning the tap off. You strutted past Grayson only to have him pull you back and kiss you with enough unspoken emotion to trap you there for five (or twenty) more minutes.

-

"Ethan, you just need to come visit him," you whispered furiously into your phone. "It's not that hard!" You stood outside Grayson's hospital room, pacing back and forth and back and forth, completely irate. After a minute of white-noise, you threatened, "Ethan," through clenched teeth.

He sighed loudly into the receiver and said, "You don't get to decide what's hard and not hard."

Your vision blurred with rage and you nearly chucked your phone against the wall. "Then who gets to decide? Because you fucking love to take the easy way out. I don't get you, Ethan, I really don't. He's your twin, you've been best friends for life, and then he gets cancer--a time when he needs you most--and you fucking ditch him. How cruel are you?" you spat.

"You don't get it." And you didn't. "You know how fucking hard it is to watch him die? To see him fall apart right in front of me? I can't handle it, (Y/N). I don't want to be awful, but I don't want to be heartbroken, either. This is killing me," he growled, as if you'd stepped out of line by asking him to see his goddamned brother.

You barked a cold laugh. "Yeah, okay Ethan, this is too hard for you. Imagine losing your soulmate. You know what? Fuck this, you're the one that's going to regret disappearing when Grayson needed support the most. I don't know why I even bother when you're fucking heartless," you snarled, hanging up the phone.

-

Quite possibly the hardest part was watching Grayson fall apart at the seams.

And yeah, we'll get to the worst part, but you never imagined how torturous the secondhand pain would feel. Never in a trillion years would you suspect he wouldn't just be your other half, he'd take up camp in your aching nerves and desperate lungs and quaking legs as you watched Grayson weaken, and weaken, and weaken.

You rushed to the bathroom, trailing at his heels as he pitched himself to the hospital bathroom floor, scrambling to the toilet. He ducked his head into the bowl, emptying his stomach with guttural groans and chokes and breathy sighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he managed between heaves. You slid down to the floor and pressed a hand to his back, only to have him flinch and jerk away with his last ounce of energy, and that stung. He hung he head in the toilet long after he finished, absolutely drained of energy.

"G?" you whispered after ten minutes, tentatively poking his arm.

He rolled his head onto his arm, far enough away for you to flush away the mess. "Hot," he rasped.

And you think you understood. His cheeks were flushed and beads of sweat trickled down his temple and he was pressing against the cold tile like it could cure him. You wished it could.

"Want ice?" you asked, already leaping from your spot. You scurried over to his cot, fetching his water and an ice pack from the mini fridge. You rushed back to the bathroom, finding him pale as you'd ever seen him in a heap on the floor. You towered over him, and that was new, and that was just sad. Sad to think you were taller than the man that used to put you on his shoulders--well, you and the world. He glanced up at you through glassy eyes, his mouth parted and his lips chapped. "Water?" you offered, crumbling to the floor next to him so you could feel a little stabler.

It seemed like blinking might be too much for him. Or breathing. Or living.

So, all he could muster was the shortest of nods, and you reached out to hand him his glass, which was fucking stupid of you to offer it to him, because he stuck out a wobbly arm and a limp wrist and grabbed a glass that weighed more than all his sorrows and you two watched it slip through his fingers, to the ground, water splashing everywhere.

Grayson started crying. But, not in the way where he was thrashing and crying and frustrated--like he did when he could be considered human and not a shell--but quietly, distantly. Tears dribbled down his cheeks as if his eyes were raining, as if this was just his body's reaction to all the pain and he wouldn't have cried if given the option. Seemed like Grayson didn't get a lot of options these days.

You bit back your own sadness, choked down all the emotion you could, because Grayson didn't need that. He needed support and love and patience and it seemed like all you did was ache and pity a man who was stronger than you'd ever be. So, with fumbling movements, you grabbed the rub near the sink and soaked up the mess you'd made and sat the glass upright. And then you turned to fetch him some more when you heard him swallow.

Swallowing. That's what Grayson had resulted to for communication. Swallowing.

You twisted and found him shaking his head. He tapped his finger twice against the tile, and so you sat beside him again, ready to force the sun out of the sky if he so asked. "You're still burning up, G," you mumbled with droopy eyes.

He nodded. Kind of.

And then he placed his fingertip over yours, and then you sat on that hospital bathroom floor until your legs were as numb as Grayson.

-

"Ms. (Y/L/N)?" Dr. Schneit spoke softly, cracking the door open only enough to fit his nose through.

You nodded and slipped your hand from Grayson's slack one, leaving him to sleep silently in the comfort of his cot. You ducked into the hallway, wincing under the glare of the yellow lights. Dr. Schneit was holding his clipboard so tightly you thought it might snap in his shaking hands. His knuckles were white and his jaw was clenched, and it was one of those things you just know.

"How much longer?" you think you asked. You couldn't hear, really.

His nose flared with emotion and you stared back at him, sure you'd pass out from the pain. It'd be nice if you did.

"Not much," he said, voice strained in that professional way that Doctors' voices strain when they tell someone that their loved one's going to die. Oh, how you'd wished it would have cracked--for proof that you weren't the only one falling apart, that Grayson was so much more than a patient or even a person, that Grayson was Grayson and there'd never be another like him. "The cancer cells have just spread to the central nervous system and it's only a matter of time before they reach the brain. Maybe a few weeks."

Oh. Not much at all.

"Feels like I'm dying too," you mumbled. "Kind of wish I was. And I know I shouldn't say that to a doctor who would prescribe me a therapist, but you probably know how to deal with telling people their soulmates are gonna die and all, so. Figured I'd rather tell you than my mom. Or Anna. Or Ethan," you shrugged a shoulder, too desensitized to bother with anything but the truth.

"It never gets easier," Dr. Schneit confessed.

"Really?"

"No. All the good ones get cancer. And all the best ones get leukemia. And people like Grayson, people like Grayson get an incurable case of Acute Myeloid Leukemia. And it never gets easier, and it never makes sense," he said with a wavering voice. And then he was throwing his clipboard on the ground with a deafening smack, and sliding down the wall with rainclouds for eyes.

You fell down beside him and breathed deeply, swallowing down the sob that echoed in your throat.

"People like me don't deserve people like Grayson," you cried, burrowing your head in your arms.

Dr. Schneit grabbed your shoulder and squeezed it and said, "People like Grayson deserve people like you."

-

You sat in your 11 AM, rigid in your seat with a foot bobbing at a thousand miles an hour. Your stomach was churning with anxiety, and you could hardly hear anything but Dr. Schneit's voice concluding that yes, Grayson was dying.

"It has been remarked by at least one of my colleagues that one reason we have such a hard time teaching Newtonian physics to college students is that we have to first unteach them their already prevailing “natural” worldview of physics, which dates all the way back to Aristotle-"

Your mind was moving at the speed of light. Grayson would have hated this, you thought, your mind racing back to the time you tutored each other and he hopped from your top bunk and broke his ankle and went to the doctors and got diagnosed and-

"Newton’s discoveries were a core component of the Enlightment, a period of a few hundred years in which Europe went from a state of almost slavish, church-endorsed belief in the infallibility-"

You chewed on your lip so viciously you thought you might bite right through it.

"Hey, could you stop tapping your foot? You're shaking my table," the boy next to you asked somewhere between kindly and irritably. You didn't have the time or the patience to figure it out.

"Again, interested students are encouraged to look up Karl Popper’s “Falsifiability” and the older Postivism. A hypothesis must successfully withstand the test of repeated, reproducible experiments that both seek to disprove and-"

"Dude, seriously, I'm trying to focus here," the guy snapped.

Your eyes darted to the door again, and you said, "I can't do this," and shot out of your spot, books already tucked in your arms. You marched with a mission towards the door, uncaring of your disturbance or the silence that settled over the class as they watched you walk away.

"Um, Ms. (Y/L/N), please-"

"My boyfriend is dying!" you shrieked, your chest heaving as you spun to look your professor dead in the eye. "My boyfriend is dying from acute myeloid leukemia, and I don't give a single fuck about whatever Newton did! He's already dead, I have someone else I have to worry about!"

And then you shoved the door open and sprinted down the hallway with tears streaming down your face.

-

"Where're we going?" Grayson asked, twisting his head to look up at you. You rolled him down the sidewalk in a wheelchair, jouncing over cracks and pivoting into the parking lot.

You pulled his beanie over his ears despite the warm spring temperature. "Somewhere--gotta get you out of that gloomy ass hospital," you smirked, digging your lanyard out of your purse and unlocking the car. Grayson folded his hands together in his lap, hunched over. "You cold? Didn't think it was too bad out, but I can grab your jacket if-"

Grayson groaned irritably and cut you off. "(Y/N). Stop babying me because I have cancer. I'm fine."

For the first time in forever, it felt, you laughed outright and hugged the back of his neck, kissing his cheek around the bend. Independent Gray was something you'd missed--he truly needed help with just about everything these days, and he used to be so picky about assistance. "Oh, shut the fuck up, I'm not babying you because you have cancer, dumbass, I'm babying you because you're my boyfriend and I love you," you smirked, opening his passenger door.

Grayson smiled sheepishly and avoided your watching eyes, so you walked in front of him and pulled his lips to yours. He smiled freely when he kissed you, slipping a cold hand into your hair and his tongue into your mouth. It'd been so long since you felt life in him. You held onto the sides of his wheelchair, ducking low so he could feel bigger so he could tower over you like he once did, and Grayson pulled apart chuckling. "You are 100% babying me because I have cancer now," he laughed, tucking the bulk of your hair behind your ear and off your shoulder.

You grinned and kissed his cheek. "Why're you all in my business? I will baby you if I so please, Grayson Dolan. Now get in the car, we're going on a trip."

He huffed and rolled his eyes playfully before clenching his jaw with focus. He took his time standing, working his sore, sore legs straight. You forced yourself to ignore his winces and whimpers, because he was still human after all, and he deserved to have his dignity during his struggles. You'd let him do the things he could on his own; you knew he wanted to.

Once he stood completely, he loomed over you arrogantly, pushing your back against the fender of your car, splaying a possessive hand across your stomach and kissing you deeply. You yelped with surprise and he just swallowed it down, kissing you feverishly, like he didn't have a spare second. He doesn't, you reminded yourself. So, you wrapped loose arms around his neck and pressed your body flush against his, and made out with Grayson against the hood of your car like the teenager you were.

Grayson pulled away, breath wheezing in and out of his lips. "Too much?" you asked, flattening a palm against his chest. He nodded with a furious blush and dodged your stare. "All good. I'm gonna go put this in the back," you said, jutting your thumb to the wheelchair. "But get in the car! Jesus Gray, how many times do I have to ask?" you whined dramatically.

"I'm going, I'm going," he laughed, climbing into the ajar door.

After loading the wheelchair into your trunk, you hopped in, eager to get there.

"Where're we going?" Grayson asked again, sifting through his phone for music to play.

"Somewhere as pretty as you," you smirked, pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

He snorted and shook his head, nibbling on his thumbnail. "Can't believe we're going to a literal art museum," he laughed, shaking his head comically.

You pushed his shoulder and giggled. "How far do you wanna go?"

"That's what she s-"

"Grayson," you chuckled.

He smirked. "Well, do I have to be back at the hospital tonight?"

You pursed your lips in thought and shrugged. "Don't think so. I mean, I could call them but like, it's your life, I don't think Schneit's gonna follow us and force you to come back, you know?" you said, mentally reviewing the pros and cons of pissing off the hospital staff.

Grayson smiled at you and leaned over and kissed your cheek. "Thank you, for doing this. Alright, let's go on an adventure," he cheered, reclining his chair and propping his hands beneath his head. You fixed him with a judgmental stare, shaking your head. Grayson returned you with a smug smile. "What? I'm too sick to drive so I'm gonna use my cancer perks and take a good ole nap for the whole ride-"

"Oh, fuck off," you grumbled, much to his amusement.

-

Point Reyes was as peaceful as you'd imagined. Just as Grayson had promised, he slept the whole ride, and you understood. You shook him awake and assisted him into his wheelchair as much as he'd let you, and then pushed him through the famous breathtaking arc of trees, as blissful as you'd been in a long time. "We can check it off the bucket list," you said, overwhelmed by all the beauty. Grayson didn't respond.

You had wheeled Gray down the soggy forest trails before landing on the cliff overlooking the Pacific. He was propped up beside you, crisscrossed and snuggled in his hoodie--one that used to fit him, but now engulfed his scrawnier body. He plucked dandelions off the ground and tossed them every which way: off the cliff into the jagged rocks below, behind him without a care, into your lap--and pretty forcefully too.

You kept quiet until he wanted to talk. And then he said, "I'm kind of like a dandelion."

The wind blew at liberty, calm but using its freedom to billow on the coast where the only skyscrapers were peaks of rock. You wrapped your arms around yourself and bit your lip, mulling over the words Grayson had said so bitterly. "What do you mean?"

Grayson's lip curled and he looked off distantly. "Weed. I'm a weed," he said, and you would have laughed any other time at his ridiculousness, but he looked a little heartbroken. "A weed in all this grass. Or maybe, no, maybe I'm the grass, and the dandelions are the cancer cells, and they just keep spreading and spreading and it doesn't matter how many of them chemotherapy tears out of the ground, it's too late, and I'm just dying," he scoffed, throwing another dandelion into the bay.

You knew he had more in him, so you sat tight and waited. "At this point, I'm just a dandelion, actually. I'm 100% cancer. 100% poison," he laughed dryly. "And I don't want to be bitter in my last few days, okay? I don't. It's just, it's just that I'm so fucking tired. And I don't have any hair. And I'm cold. And I have so many reasons to be bitter, you know?"

You nodded solemnly, letting the breeze blow cool air against the gaping wounds in your heart. Grayson plucked a few more weeds and tossed them your way, so you grabbed them and started wielding them together. "And honestly," he continued. "I wanna be like a... fuck, I don't know, a daisy. Or fucking- fucking baby's breath, I don't know! Something that spreads like wildfire but is still good. Something people want around them, something pretty. Something not cancerous, obviously," he huffed. You nodded along as you tangled the dandelions in on one another, braiding them together.

After a few beats, you said, "I know you're frustrated, and I know I might not mean much, but you're the whole damn bouquet to me." You outstretched a hand and, without any permission, snatched his beanie off. Grayson sucked in a harsh breath; he never took off his hat.

"(Y/N), don't-"

You shook your head. "I don't care how insecure you are without hair. You're breathtaking to me Grayson." You grabbed the crown you'd constructed and plopped it on his head, twisting it around his ears and smiling to yourself. Beautiful. "There. And also, I get what you're saying, but fuck your idea of yourself. That's the stupidest bullshit I've ever heard. I am in love with the strongest man in the world. You've got the weight of the world on your shoulders and you take it a day at a time. Do you know how hard it is for me? How hard it is to watch you go through all this, and then hate yourself for it?" you asked, hoping emotion didn't creep into your voice.

"I know you need someone to tell this stuff to, I know you're going through it all, I know you're dying Gray, but part of me is dying too. I want to burn off these words," you said, voice starting to waver. "and-and live life with you. I'm bitter too, Grayson. I'm bitter that everyone else gets a soulmate for life, that some people never have to go through this, that I have to go through this, that you have to go through this. And then I thought about the fact that there is a little girl named Brooke who will never fucking get to meet her soulmate, and at least I got you, however short of time. And more than that, I'm convinced you gave me enough happiness for a lifetime--that people will never feel the same amount of love in their entire life as I got while you were here. So, maybe it's unfair for us, but it's also unfair for everyone else to see how fucking incredible we are."

The waves crashed ashore far below you two, and the meadow of dandelions bent to the will of the wind. It was warm, but not warm enough for Grayson, and yet he sat there with you on the edge of the Pacific without a single complaint of the weather. You fell back on your elbows and stared at Grayson, feeling hopeless and hopelessly in love with him, trying to come terms with all this, even if it was a lost cause. You meant every word.

Grayson's hand crept up to the wreath on his head and grinned warmly. With absolute certainty, Grayson said, "You still love me even if I'm a dandelion."

You smiled at him, kissed his lips, and cupped his face. "I love you like the daisy you are."

-

You sat in a coffee shop with Anna, stirring your black coffee with a complimentary wood stick, distinguishing vague patterns in the swirls it created. You knew you were boring Anna, or making her uncomfortable with your silence, but what was there to say?

She drummed her fingers against the wood table and chewed on her lip, clearly scrambling for conversation. "Uh, how's Grayson doing?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, I know he's... you know..."

"Dying?"

Her eyes softened and she hunched in on herself with guilt. "Yeah, that."

You huffed a laugh and dragged your stick through the sea of brown in your cup, hardly entertained by the waves it created. "Yeah, he's okay. I think he wants to die, a little bit, so that's kind of fucked." You pursed your lips and shook your head, your gut wrenching.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You returned to glaring at your drink, too tired to put any real effort into speaking to your best friend.

"You look pretty tired," Anna noticed, frowning sympathetically. "You could come back to the dorm for a night, get some real sleep," she persuaded.

You wanted to, but if Grayson died while you were gone, you'd never forgive yourself. "I'll be back when Grayson's gone, promise."

You didn't want to be this cynical, but you couldn't hold these thoughts in any longer. You felt so much fatigue, and yet, it felt like there was something inside you pounding its fists against your bones, begging, 'let me out!'. You sucked in your lip and bit down on it hard enough for it to really hurt, but it felt a little good to feel something.

"Um, so how'd your religious studies test go?" she prodded, hoping to coax you out of your daze.

"Didn't take it. Was at the hospital," you shrugged, marveling at the bubbles that speckled in your cup.

"Didn't take it? Dude, did you email your professor?" she chastised, eyeing you quizzically.

You fell back in your seat and shook your head. 'Life is better with a cup of joe' read one of the cliche signs that dangled on the walls of the cafe. You looked at your mug and frowned.

"(Y/N), you can't... you can't just throw away college for this, throw away your life. I know you're sad, but-"

Something inside you snapped, right in half, and you began crying. "Throw away my life? Anna, my life is fucking laying in a hospital bed searching for a bone marrow transplant! My fucking life is dying, he's got no hope and neither do I. He's sleeping in an uncomfortable cot waiting for me to come back, because his own fucking brother won't even visit him! I'm literally all he has, and sometimes it feels like he's literally all I have! Jesus Christ, do you think I wanted this?" you cried, uncaring of who listened in on your very public outburst.

"Of course I don't think you wanted this! (Y/N), I know you love Grayson and I know you're going to be heartbroken and I know I could never understand, but you are paying thousands of dollars in tuition to fail out!" she hissed, slapping her palm against the table.

"Grayson is paying thousands of dollars to die!" You wailed. "Oh my god, Grayson is going to die."

And just like that, it really hit you. That you'd have a lifetime to pay off student loans, and Grayson was going to die.

You started crying, really crying, in the center of that coffee shop, and Anna came over and hugged you tight, and you sat in a coffee shop and weeped on Anna's shoulder for a second time.

-

You pressed the phone against your ear with your shoulder as you held Gray's hand in both of yours.

Ethan picked up after a few rings. "H-"

"Come see Grayson today. I'm not asking."

And then you hung up.

-

Grayson's legs were tangled with yours under the thin hospital sheet, and you cradled his head between your hands. "I'm thinking of an animal."

Grayson chuckled and kissed your temple. "Does it have spots?" he asked.

You groaned and shimmied away from him. "I'm not sure. Let me look it up," you huffed.

"That was only the first question," Grayson snorted.

"I'm aware."

"I can literally see you looking up 'poison dart frog.'"

"No you can't," you grumbled. "Alright. I'm thinking of an animal-"

"Is it an amphibian?"

"Maybe-"

Three knocks resounded through the room and then the door creaked open hesitantly. Grayson shuffled into a sitting position and peered his head around the curtain, but you already knew it was Ethan.

"Hey," Ethan mumbled tentatively, waving a lame hand before stuffing his fists in his pockets when he reached the foot of the bed.

It only took Gray a single second--which was truly a feat for him in this stage--to scurry out of the bed and launch himself onto Ethan, hugging him harder than you thought his muscles could allow. Ethan dug his hands out from his jeans and squeezed Grayson back with a lot of pent-up regrets.

You did your best to suppress your disgust for Ethan and simply offered him a raised brow in greeting. He licked his lips and nodded, noting your hostility, and smoothed a hand over Grayson's back. It sent a pang through you when you found Grayson was smaller than Ethan. Grayson held on for a few minutes, and Ethan held him back.

"What are you doing here?" Grayson blubbered as he pulled away, wiping away his tears frantically.

Ethan shuffled from foot to foot. "Got two tickets with our names on them to the Kings game tonight--if you wanna go. We don't have-"

"Yes! Yes, let's go, please," Grayson begged, grabbing Ethan's forearm desperately. "(Y/N), can I go?" he asked, gawking at you with pleading eyes.

"Did you just ask me for permission?" you snorted.

"Yes or no!" he cried, his arms flailing.

"Yes, but be back by 9:30," you smirked.

"9:30? (Y/N), it's already four, I can't-"

"Oh my god, I'm kidding, go!"

- +

You sat up in the hospital bed, reading your book and reminiscing about the old feel of the bed in your dorm and the life that came with it.  

The door creaked open, and Grayson was rolled in by a nurse. You offered him a sympathetic grin; he looked absolutely beat. "How was it?" you asked, patting the spot beside you.

Grayson just gave you a lazy, sleepy grin.

You bid the nurse a goodnight and hopped out of bed to help him in it. As you swept his blankets over him, you snuggled into his side.

"Did LA win?" you asked, your finger dragging a stripe down the bridge of his nose.

"No, but that's okay," Grayson shrugged.

"Good to see Ethan?" you whispered.

Grayson's throat bobbed and he nodded, tears beginning to stream from the corners of his eyes. "Yeah," he croaked. Silent sobs racked his body as he turned into you, cowering in the warmth of your body. "Miss him so much," he bawled, an agonizing weep echoing through the room, and you knew then, as you held Grayson through his meltdown, that you couldn't forgive Ethan for abandoning Grayson, not now, not ever.

-

It's one of those things you just know.

So, when you stood in front of your closet, simply looking for a change of clothes after all those days spent in the same ones, and the hospital's phone number blinked on your screen, you sprinted down the flights of stairs by your dorm room, into your car, and floored 60 in a 30 with your emergency lights on.

You don't even know if you really threw your car in park because your tears were blurring your vision so much. Five more minutes, give me five more minutes Gray, you prayed. Wishing for forever just wasn't an option anymore.

You skidded into the clinic, your shoes slapping the linoleum as you raced into an elevator and back out again when you realized you didn't have the time to wait for it to go up a floor. You took the stairs two at a time and ran like wind blew.

Only briefly did you note the woman sitting in the hallway, crying as she stared at her wrist. She was wailing and trashing in pain, and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before that was you. But you didn't have time to think about her. Grayson didn't have time.

You burst through his door, your nerves buzzing horrifically.

"Hey," Grayson wheezed from his bed, so quietly you had to read his lips.

You rushed to his bedside, unaware you were already falling apart. You clamped your jaw so tightly it might crack and hot tears burned the tops of your cheeks. "Grayson, fuck- I can't, I can't fucking do this, I can't watch you leave," you yelled through clenched teeth. "Grayson, Grayson," you cried, so frustrated you couldn't even think. Fuck everything you told him at Point Reyes, you were selfish and you couldn't do this, you wanted a refund, you wanted anything else, you wanted to die, you wanted to never exist.

"(Y/N), look at me," Grayson whispered, squeezing your hand so limply you screamed. You wanted more time. He turned your arm ever so slightly, and smiled at the words. "We need to do this. I need to say this," he said, tapping his finger against your wrist.

You shook your head with a pained face and wheezed, "Grayson I can't, I can't."

"You have to. You're going to." He was so tired, you could see it. It took everything in you to look into those brown eyes, the ones that were losing life by the second. "I love you. I love you more than anything in this world," he whispered.

"Grayson, I can't," you insisted, burying your face into his knuckles. It hurt so bad. It hurt so bad.

He ran his hand down your cheek and whispered, "Let me let go, please."

And then you were nodding despite your anger, your hatred for life, because you loved Grayson. Because he was dying, and he wanted to die, and that was something you would have to accept later and help him through now.

"I'm lucky I got to spend the rest of my life with you. It was nice to meet you." Grayson rasped, his head lolling against the pillow, and you could practically see the life drain from him, and you couldn't find the stopper.

And you could have never prepared yourself for the pain that surged through your body at those words.

"Yeah," you nodded, your voice hardly distinguishable. "You too, G."

And though it should have been so very expected, you felt his hand uncurl from yours, and his pulse fade as your pressed your lips to the words on his wrist, and that hurt, to put it simply. And then he was asleep, somewhere much farther away than arm's reach, and you pressed your head to his hand and stayed there until it turned cold.

And then, you walked out of his room and sat next to the woman pressed against the wall down the hall and held her hand instead.

-

They took his beanie off for the funeral. You knew he would've hated it.

All you could think was 'Sure are a lot of people here that never bothered to visit him in the hospital.' But it was a tough pill to swallow that some people just took Grayson for granted, and that you were probably guilty of it too.

Ethan sat beside you and held your hand so tight you lost feeling. You nearly shook him off when he reached for you, your hatred for him still boiling too close to the surface, but his hands felt so much like Grayson's.

And funerals were for closure, you always thought.

And when you looked back on your Grandfather's funeral when you were twelve, you nearly threw up. Your Grandma was content with her loss, and promised that the words would be bittersweet when you heard them.

Those words were nothing but dreadful.

And the remainder of your night was spent sobbing, thinking that Grayson was six feet below you with a plethora of bouquets and a dandelion resting on his casket.

-

"Hey," you mumbled, trudging up the hill Gray's tombstone. "You'll never believe this, but Anna got engaged to my brother. Guess they stopped dancing around each other and finally started dating. It's only been like, six months, but I guess when you know, you know, you know?" you laughed, plopping down on the grass. "We would have gotten married. I thought about it all the time. Think we would have done a winter wedding, so all our family could vacation in Cali for a week. Maroon and gold for colors. E could have been your best man," you murmured, trying to keep your emotion at bay.

"Tried to go on a date. Wasn't worth it. Free dinner, though," you laughed. "Um, I went to Point Reyes the other day, by myself. That little field isn't filled with dandelions anymore. Think that's kind of symbolic though," you snorted, tears slipping from your eyes.

You sat with him and updated him on all the little things and all the big things that had happened in the past few days. You made it a habit to come around a few times a week and keep him company, because he always loved to be around people. Must get lonely up there.

"Hurts to come around sometimes. I know you're listening, but you're not talking, and that just... just hurts, G. God, I miss you," you breathed, pressing your palm to the cold marble of his tombstone.

"But I'm still gonna come, you know? Cause that's what people do for the people they love. Even if it hurts. But Gray, it hurts so bad," you whimpered, thinking of Ethan without malice for the first time in a long while.

And maybe you understood a little.

-

"How do I look?" Anna fussed, her hands fluttering around undecidedly. She stood in her dressing room, sheathed in white, with fidgety feet and a restless mind. "Fuck, he's gonna think I'm stupid for wearing all this makeup-"

You snorted and jerked her into a bone-crushing hug. "Anna. It's your wedding day. I don't think he thinks you're stupid for anything. Well, except when you got that neon green stripe in your hair in sixth grade. That, he definitely thought was stupid," you chuckled, feeling her slump against you. "You're beautiful," you whispered with complete sincerity.

She squeezed you tighter and nodded. "I know."

You broke into a fit of laughter and swirled a piece of her hair about your finger. "You already knew that, you literally were just fishing for compliments."

"Yeah, pretty much. Holy fuck, I can't wait to marry him," she grinned cheerily, biting her lip.

"Anna, I literally could not be happier for you. Literally," you smiled, pinching her cheek. "Even if it's my brother. Which is disgusting. You could do better."

She smacked your arm and snorted. "Like who?"

"The world's second greatest man," you smirked. "Sadly, I already got the first one, so you're gonna have to suck it up and take whoever's in second place."

"I'm pretty sure your brother's the second place-"

You barked out genuine laughter. "Ha! Yeah fuckin' right. I personally think it could be Harry Styles," you quipped, tossing your styled hair off your shoulder dramatically.

Then Anna cocked her head and gave you the warmest of smiles and said, "(Y/N), I'm so happy you're back. Grayson would love to see you again like this."

Your heart fluttered and ached all at once at the mention of him. Whether they were happy or sad, tears surfaced in your eyes and you giggled and said, "Yeah, he's watching over me all the time. Which is nice, cause I'm a firm believer he still laughs at all my horrible jokes that you never think are funny."

Anna hugged you tight, so tight, and you hugged her hard back.

"Enough of this mushy shit, I have a wedding to be a maid of honor to, and you have a wedding to put on!" you shrieked, dragging her by her wrist to the french doors. "One last thing..." you muttered, leaning in close.

"What?" Anna mumbled, chewing on her lip anxiously.

"I left the back door of the church open, so when you realize my brother's a fucking idiot and flee, it's ready-"

"(Y/N)!"

-

New Jersey was just as cold as Gray always described it.

You slipped your hands beneath your sweater sleeves and balled your fists in the fabric, breathing hot air into your hands in an effort to warm them. You rung the doorbell once more and tapped your foot anxiously.

Muffled voices sounded from the other side--the warm side--and you waited. The door unlatched and then swung open, revealing Ethan in very festive attire. "(Y/N)?" he gasped, his eyes widening. He looked so much like him still. You smiled, and before you knew it, Ethan was tugging you into him.

You didn't want to hug him back.

Well, yeah, you did. So you did.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, squeezing you too tightly and it felt just like Grayson.

"Um," you said, tucking your hair behind your ears after he let you go. "Wanted to spend my Christmas with some family."

Ethan searched your eyes as his watered and nodded slowly. "Well, you know you're always welcome. We have drumsticks," he cheered, guiding you into the kitchen.

"You know those are my favorite," you gushed, grabbing a plate and loading it immediately.

"Gray’s too,” he smiled sadly. “My wife's upstairs, but I'll be sure to introduce you. She's heard a lot about you," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded and turned to face him, tension still resting between you two in a very obvious way. "I-"

"I regret it every day (Y/N). I was young and stupid and so hurt and I'll never forgive myself for it. He was my twin. My best friend," he whispered, turning away from you. "Do you know how awful I was? Of course you do. You were there every step of the way and I wasn't there for one. You know I got the call? I was his emergency contact. And I cried in my room, and didn't show up because I couldn't move," Ethan gasped, balling his fists at his side. "I lost him too, you know. It might not have seemed like it, but I lost him. Eighteen years of being inseparable, and I deserted him. I can't even- I will never forgive myself, (Y/N). I regret it more than I can even explain."

You heaved a deep sigh, and all those years of hating Ethan dissipated away. "I know you do," you accepted. "If you can't forgive yourself, I will."  

"What was saying goodbye like?" Ethan breathed, his voice trembling terribly. 

You leaned against the counter and bit your lip, swallowing down any emotion that threatened the surface. "Well, it was awful. Hardest thing I'll ever go through. But, he was sweet, and he was ready. "What did he say? Before he went?" Ethan garbled, tears streaming down his face. You grinned one of those grins that took years and years of healing to even form, and flashed him your wrist. And then Ethan was crumbling.

You stood in front of Ethan, and then you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, hoping that your tight grip would piece him back together, and if it didn't, you were going to be there to help search for the missing bits, because Ethan was family. And with that, you joined Ethan and his relatives in their living room, exchanging hugs with people you had never met and sharing stories you had nearly forgotten about the boys, and it gave you a feeling, an indescribable feeling, that you had really, really missed.

[dxlansfxck]

Saints & Sins [G.D] Part 06

He tasted exactly like Y/N thought of. He tasted like the ocean, like salt and a hint of fresh air. He tasted like vacation – and a tiny bit like mint. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, forgetting about Grayson and their memories. She knows, Luke was a better man. She opens her mouth, leaving room for their tongues to dance against each other while their lower bodies meet, the friction causing both to let out tiny moans. It was weird for Y/N to kiss without being on drugs, but again, she didn’t need them with Luke. She presses her eyes even more shut, not trying to have Grayson’s face in her thoughts, but she failed. His smile, his eyes and even his smell was now everything she could think of. Gasping, Y/N steps back, looking at Luke in shock. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”, she looks at her feet, feeling guilty. She was truly sorry. Sitting down on one of the wet rocks, she pops her head down into her palms, watching Luke carefully.

“You don’t have to be, Y/N. Is It because of Dolan? I mean, you broke up only a few weeks ago and…”, she didn’t even let him finish, she had to splurt out whatever was on her mind. “Grayson is back. He was laying in my bed, but he didn’t look like Gray. He was so skinny, not a tiny bit of muscles on his body. He looks like he’s rotting alive, he literally smells. Then he was about to kiss me, but I didn’t want to, so I just ran away. Straight into your arms. Wow, I’m such a mess. I mean, what is he thinking of me now? I’m sure he’ll kill me with a heroin needle once I’m sleeping.” Y/N tried to make a joke but neither of them wanted to laugh right now.  Jumping up, she started to walk around, being splashed by a few water drops here and there. “I need to see what he’s doing. Maybe he’s about to kill himself!” She was about to go through the waterfall, but Luke holds her back. “Hey, Y/N, calm down. He won’t do anything. If he’d truly feel that bad, he wouldn’t be back at college, right? But tell me, why did you even break up?” Luke’s warm eyes watch her carefully, while she sits down again, ready to tell him their entire story.

Once she was back in her room, still in her wet clothes, she found Grayson still laying on her bed. This time, he had her drawing in his hands. “You’ve got talent, angel. “ Y/N stayed quiet. Grayson kept looking at her, raising a brow once he saw her wet outfit. “Where have you been? Showering with your clothes on?” He checked the time. “For about 4 hours? I waited for you, angel. I’ve got some new stuff to try”, he waves another bag around, filled with lots and lots of tiny silver packages. She’s watched enough movies, she knows what was inside of them. Ripping the bag out of his hands, Y/N watched the content carefully. “What did you turn into, Grayson? You’re not the one you’ve been the last months”, shaking her head, his personal angel just grabs fresh clothes before heading off to take a shower. Just as she wants to open their door, some knocking makes her jump. Luke walks in without waiting for them to call him in. “Hey, Y/N. I thought you’d want to take a shower as well, I mean, there’s seaweed on your clothes”, his wide grin makes Y/N smile before disdainfully looking over to Grayson. “Dolan, you’re back”, Luke says simply. Grayson just cheers his joint is Luke’s direction, then watching me carefully. “You’re hanging out with him? Well, we’ll see what you’re getting from that, angel”, he makes it sound like a threat, but Y/N decided to stray strong, shrugging her shoulders before heading out with Luke once again.

They showered next to each other, Y/N in her bathing suit, Luke in some surf shorts. He had quite a few tattoos around his chest and arms, similar to Grayson’s. “What do they mean?”, she points to the artwork on his chest. It was an ox skull, a snake winding through its empty eyes surrounded by different nature symbols. She felt almost naked next to his inked skin, but he just told her, that not each tattoo has to have a meaning. “I’m getting one tomorrow”, she blurts before quickly stepping out of the meanwhile cold shower.

 Grayson stayed in their room, thinking about anything that has happened the past three weeks.

    He woke up with a bright migraine and dry mouth, looking around for his favorite girl. Calling her name, he tried to get up but failed. Damn. His angel stands in front of the door, her hair was messy and she had dark bags under her eyes. She was alone. “Gray, you awake?”, her voice was calm, but he knew she was nervous. “Mh, yeah. Fuck, my head is about to explode. Where’s everyone? Wait, did I fall asleep during the party? Fuck”, his hands automatically hold his hurting head, trying to reduce the pain. “Well, that comes from swallowing all those pills. I thought you were clean and stopped doing hard drugs? Why are you lying to me? Grayson, answer me!”

Why did she know all of this? What happened after he fell asleep? He tried to catch her reaction, but Grayson already knew she was pissed as fuck. “You know what, Grayson? I’m leaving, do whatever you want. It was a mistake meeting you. You’re destroying me. I took part in an orgy last night! I’m heading back, see you after holidays, if you didn’t die by then!” With that, he just watched her going. He let her go. Let her leave his broken life. He kept lying in this bed, not caring about the loneliness. He was just about to drift away, still too many drugs in his blood system to let him actually feel anything.

He stayed in this house the next few days, surrounded by all those people that made him the person he was. His routine kept the same: waking up, taking a trip, sitting on the couch, drink coffee, taking a trip, smoking a joint, Ritalin, Speed, sex, robbing people on the street, then sleep.

He even tried crack once, meaning he couldn’t say he disliked something he hadn’t tried. “Dolan, where’s your princess? The night I spent with her was so fucking good, damn, you’re so lucky”, Liv lolls around the couch, swiping some blood from her nose. “What do you mean”, Grayson scans her emaciated body that looked similar to his. There wasn’t time to eat, they had to spend their money on other things, medicaments got more expensive the longer you had to take them. “She licked my pussy so good, but I think I don’t have to tell you about her tongue skills”, her mascara-smudged eyes winked in Grayson’s direction, while she pops herself onto Toni’s lap. “Hoe”, he hasn’t had any other thing to say, but calling her a hoe wasn’t even an insult. She sells her body for Heroin on a daily basis. Groaning, he stands up and motions her to follow him. “C’mon.” She laughed, but still following him into the bedroom, letting him fuck her with all the angriness left in his body.

He tries not to watch while Liv was heating up a spoon with a lighter. A toxic smell was tingling in Grayson’s nose which made him give in and stares at her movements. He watches over her shoulder as she ties a scarf around her arm and prepares her shot. Then she finally injected the needle into the back of her hand, pulls some of her blood in it before shooting the entire load into her fragile body. Her pupils turn into pins in matter of seconds, a silent smile was placed on her chapped lips while she leaned back against his chest. Grayson’s head was on top of hers while realizing how jealous he was about her high. “Share.”

Liv couldn’t hold her laughter back. “You sure, Gray? You don’t want that. Sure, it’s nice. It makes you feel so free and on top of the world, but not for too long. Besides that, you know Heroin will kill you”, she rolls her eyes, “I don’t even have any left. Keep on taking your trips, some coke or crack, but nothing more. You have a life left, Gray. Take it.” She glances at the floor, trying to hold back the tears. “You’re not as broken as we are. Don’t you remember your fucking brother, Grayson? What has happened to him? I can’t understand how you’re still on this stuff after reliving his death over and over again. Ethan wouldn’t want that, y’know? But as soon as your angel left you, you’re all over it again. Hello? You’re snorting coke like your life depends on it. Your nose bleeds worse than mine. And look at you”, she points to his exposed body, “No single muscle left on you. I could count your rips.”

But Grayson didn’t listen at all, he just stares at the aluminum foil and the white residue on it. “Head back to college, head back to your lessons and head fucking back to Y/N!” Y/N. Angel. Princess. “Y/N can suck my ass, Liv. And don’t think you know anything about her, just because you’ve had one night together.” By now, he couldn’t even understand why he wanted to fuck Liv so bad. Without waiting for her reaction, he grabbed the foil, pushing her off him and snorts the last bit of Heroin. It felt like little electroshocks went through his body. Excitement, joy, happiness. Then darkness. He blacked out and once he woke up, Liv was nowhere to be seen.

He was still naked, laying on the dirty mattress covered in bleach spots. The house was empty, his mind still not clear and his stomach rambling. He quickly puts his shorts back on before running to the bathroom, vomiting until nothing but sour water came out of his mouth. Grayson sits down in front of the toilet, waiting to regain some energy to stand up, to pack his bags and to head back to the university.

When he arrived, he felt so misplaced not wearing his uniform. His eyes wander around, looking for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen, instead he saw Luke, some guy he once hooked up with. Luke’s eyes lightened up once he saw Grayson, but he hurried back inside. Grayson followed him, but when he found him again, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Luke and Y/N, talking and smiling at each other. The blood in his veins froze to ice while he quickly grabbed some pills to pop into his mouth before looking back at his ex girl- and boyfriend. Luke turns his head, watching Grayson with a smirk, before placing his hand on Y/N’s lower back, guiding her somewhere Grayson couldn’t see them anymore. Groaning, he heads back into their room, being overwhelmed by his angel’s smell, falling directly onto her bed into a deep slumber.