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yuzurins · 2 years

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the last thing you’d ever expect would happen to you was atsumu asking you out.

the miya atsumu, the guy who seemed to never have anything other than volleyball on his mind.

though it was a shock to you, you reluctantly agreed, as you did have a tiny crush on the setter.

and it was fun— but only for the first few months.

somewhere along the line, everytime you’d ask him to go out, it was always, “oh i have practice,” or “i’m really tired from practice.”

practice, practice, practice.

you knew well even before you dated that he was extremely dedicated to volleyball, and that he was freakishly good at it.

yet you really couldn’t help but think,

what if he just doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore?

what if he just got bored and can’t bring himself to break up?

you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. you tried to subdue the thoughts of insecurity that were slowly eating you alive.

until one day, you just broke.

“were you and atsumu actually dating in the first place? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you two together.” a classmate of yours accused.

“yeah y/n, i bet it was just a lie just to make us all jealous!”

“that’s so shallow of you.”

“i didn’t know y/n was that type of person.”

the revolting glares that all your classmates gave you was more than enough to validate your assumptions.

it was enough to make you feel as though atsumu was really playing with you all along.

your stomach churned and you already felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

you didn’t even know what you did wrong.

was it your fault that atsumu couldn’t make time for you?

no. no it wasn’t.

so why did you have to become the villain?

why were you responsible for the fact that miya atsumu was an absolute jerk?

it really didn’t matter to you anymore.

so that evening, you broke up with him, erasing the world that was once your everything for the last six months.

you tried distracting yourself— immersing yourself in studying, grinding games until sunrise, hanging out with friends, reading books.

seeing as you weren’t phased by the thought of him, you thought you moved on.

seriously.

so how did you end up in front of the tokyo metropolitan gymnasium?

perhaps it was fate that you’d be in tokyo during the time of nationals. though you wouldn’t know, as you didn’t keep up with what the volleyball club did.

perhaps it was fate that you’d see a flyer for the spring national high school volleyball tournament on your walk around the huge city.

you could try blaming it on fate, but there’s no denying the reaction you had— the way your face lit up and how your heart beat faster.

as you were mentally debating on whether you should go in or not, you heard an awfully familiar voice.

“yn-san?”

tsu— no, osamu. it was clear from the way he referred to you.

he was the closest one to atsumu, so you guessed that he probably knew you already broke up with his brother and tried to come off nonchalant. “oh, hi.“

“what are you doing here in tokyo?” it wasn’t obvious, but after spending quite a bit of time with the twins, you could tell he was trying to not be awkward with you aswell.

“just a work trip.” you responded straightforwardly. there was no reason to lie.

“ah, i see.”

as osamu’s efforts went in vain, awkward silence came as the both of you struggled to find something to talk about.

“well—“

“you should come watch us play!” he cut you off.“what a coincidence that you’re here on the day we have our first match.”

osamu really was not the type to say that type of stuff. rather, this was atsumu’s sort of thing.

ignoring the subtle ache in your heart, you hummed and nodded. “sure, that sounds fun.”

the grey-haired boy in front of you exhaled in relief before giving you lazy smile.

“cool! see you later then.” he sent you a wave and bid farewell.

it seemed like a huge weight was lifted off his mind at the end, which you were a bit confused about, but quickly brushed it off since that wasn’t the main focus to you.

you just promised your ex’s brother that you were going to go watch them play volleyball— which was the root of the problem that caused you two to split in the first place.

it’s also the first time in two weeks that you’re going to see atsumu.

the closest word you could use to describe how you were feeling was anticipation. nervous, of course, but you very much wanted to see what was keeping atsumu so busy all the time, and how he could love a sport more than anyone else in the world. ouch

you hesitantly walk into the gym, peeking around like a meerkat as you quickly scan your surroundings.

you landed your gaze on the current tournament standings and timetable.

inarizaki vs karasuno…?

pursing your lips and tightening the grip on your backpack, you follow the sign and make your way up on the bleachers, familiar faces appearing the closer you get.

the court was bigger than you expected it to be, and there were definitely more people, too. everyone was warming up, looking like they were getting ready to start soon.

#7, miya atsumu was the first one up to serve. the cheerful music of the band grew louder, until your ex shut them up completely with a mere clench of his fist.

the sound of the two girls squealing amidst the total silence didn’t bother you at all.

because you were too focused on watching tsumu serve.

and you were, speechless.

maybe it was just you, but you felt as though the ball could’ve shook the whole gym as it impacted the ground.

you shuddered at the thought of having to receive that vigorous of a serve, and subconsciously scooted a bit forward on the seat you occupied.

the match passed in a blink of the eye. you didn’t even realize that it had already been over an hour since you arrived.

unfortunately, inarizaki did end up losing, though it didn’t really matter to you. their emotions and drive to win the game were conveyed earnestly, even if you resided in the bleachers way above them, and that itself felt like a win in your books.

maybe it was too late to say, you finally understood why atsumu was so hellbent on volleyball. why his club, and this sport, became such a significant part of his life.

the regret of not having seen atsumu ever play any games earlier came crashing down on you.

perhaps it was selfish of you to be feeling like this after acting all high and mighty that evening. what would you even say to him now? heck, what did you even want?

…you weren’t sure.

but the only thing that repeated in your head was that you needed to find him. this instant.

because communication is key in relationships, and that’s why you didn’t work out.

the clacking sound of your shoes hastily hitting the ground echoed through the empty hallways as you tried to navigate your way through the giant building.

honestly, you had no idea where the inarizaki team would be after their game, but if you wandered around enough, surely you’d see them around, right?

wrong. it’s been twenty minutes now and all you’ve been doing is going around in circles.

it probably would’ve been a much better idea to have stayed in the gym and watched where the team left off, but you were too distracted to think clearly at the time.

however, just as you were able to give up, you saw a familiar tuft of blonde hair walk past a corridor. it looked like he was walking with a teammate. springing back onto your feet, you quickly fixed your hair and followed after it, walking as fast as you could.

you trailed them through a few more corridors until halting abruptly around a corner when you noticed they stopped. there was no way you’re going to make a fool out of yourself here, so you stood there against the wall, the beating of your heart heightening every second.

it sounded like he was talking to someone about something, but it was inaudible to you as you were more focused on not making any noise. suddenly, the sound cut and you heard footsteps walking away.

pressing your lips together nervously, you slowly peeked your head out.

atsumu was sitting alone, head in his hands, mumbling on about something, before suddenly raising his head and glaring intensely at the wall. you jumped a little at his sudden movement, thinking that he might’ve noticed you, but slowly calmed yourself down as you braced yourself to go approach him.

he was probably really frustrated about the game, seeing as he didn’t realize you were right there until you sat down next to him.

“i— y/n?!” he choked, moving his whole body a bit back in surprise.

“hi tsumu, you finally noticed me.” you smiled sheepishly, wanting to tease the boy though it wasn’t quite the right time.

you could make out the tiniest flush of red on atsumu’s face at the call of his nickname. he shifted his gaze back to the wall and muttered quietly. “…what are you doing in tokyo…?”

seriously, who let him be this cute?

“you know, your brother and i had this exact same conversation earlier,” you laughed with a twinkle of endearment.

he turned his head back to face you in shock as you mentioned his twin.

“what the heck, that idiot ‘samu saw you and had the audacity to not tell me?” he complained, pout forming on his face. “ack, i’m gonna go teach him a good lesson when we get home…”

atsumu was expecting you to laugh and tell him off like you always did when he bickered with osamu, but you stayed silent, a smile remaining on your face.

he averted his gaze again though his body was still facing you. he wasn’t sure what to do in this situation, since he never expected he would see you of all people here.

“listen,” you started nervously. you wondered if this was the right choice, but it was too late to back out now. “i saw your game earlier, and geniunely, i thought you looked really, really cool.”

atsumu’s tensed lips relaxed, but too much to the point where he was starting to frown. you panicked as you knew where this was going and shoved your hand over his mouth. his eyes widened as he stared at you dumbfounded.

“don’t even mention it!” you warned, pout appearing on your face to match his. “it was a really good game, okay! i’m not even a sports person but i still got hooked in.”

he remained silent as if he was processing all your information like a robot.

you took that as a sign to continue before he could make a retort. “and i’m sorry, i’m really, really, really! sorry! that i doubted you just because you focused on your club a lot.”

hot breath tickled your palm as atsumu let out a soft chuckle. “you seriously don’t have another word to use than ‘really’, do you?”

you felt your face heat up and you pressed your hand against his face a bit more firmly in embarrassment, making sure he won’t utter any more nonsense.

“t-that’s not the main focus here! just listen,” it was now your turn to shift your gaze over awkwardly. “i just wanted to say that i’m sorry for being such a bad girlfriend and never coming to watch your games, or practice to be honest. i cannot believe i missed out on so much of your life while expecting you to be there for me at the same time too.”

“and i’m not saying this just to immediately get back together again, but rather because i think i really hurt you with my insensitive actions, so you don’t have to forgive me until—“

before you could continue, atsumu grabbed the wrist of the hand that was on his mouth and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders and gently resting his head on the side of yours.

you flinched from the sudden contact, heartrate probably going over 100 miles per hour, but slowly stopped tensing up as you felt a light pat on your back.

“you don’t have to apologize that much, it’s not like i was the best boyfriend to you either.” atsumu spoke, voice almost as soft as a whisper. he leaned his head on yours slightly further in attempt to give you reassurance. “i’m already overjoyed just from the fact you came to watch me play, even if we did lose.”

if you were in an anime, the scene that would be playing right now to describe your mental state would be you frolicking around in a sunny meadow, butterflies fluttering everything, flowers in their full bloom, animals peacefully sleeping around, a moment of complete pure bliss.

your heart was doing somersaults, and you thought that steam would erupt out of your ears from how much you were blushing. the only thing you could get of your mouth was a small hum, yet that was enough for the boy to understand.

atsumu giggled quietly at how adorable he thought you were, embracing you with both arms now and resting his head on your shoulder as he listened to the sound of your heartbeat.

you mimicked his actions shyly, moving your arms to wrap around his torso.

“…you still smell like sweat by the way.” you mumbled into his chest.

your ex—or maybe now boyfriend again—lifted his head to let out a sincere laugh and squeezed you into his hold even tighter just to tease you as you jokingly squirmed around.

the small empty corridor filled itself with the sounds of laughter and the comfort of two immature teenagers. the two of you stayed there together for quite a while, losing track of time just in each other’s presences.

“‘tsumu?” you spoke up.

atsumu hummed in response, fatigue finally hitting him from the long game he had earlier.

“i missed you.”

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amaranthdahlia · 3 months

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i hnstly thought id make a solo post dt to each one of these, but i dont think ill ever come around to do that so fuck it heres every ofa au i came up on a whim on twitter (though im pretty sure one of these alrdy exists but whatever)

middle/high school au

gone bad au

paranormal twins au

(infodump ab everything below hahdjs)

anyways soo first one is just . like. a middle school au. or highschool. im not sure which one is better lol. basically its just a roles thing: afo is the student council president (that pretty much has his school wrapped around his finger), yoichi is just some student (that gets into fights with bullies) and kudou is a deliquent (that became one just cus of afo) i wanted to expand this more but im procrastinating so nvm

2nd one is well, again, an au i made out of the whim. i just entertained tbe idea of (forced) villain yoichi and rolled with it and only drew it just so i can design yoichi ahsjskg ... and kudoichi there is well . ig a hero/villain pair? and you could say theyre just unfortunate people forced to play a role (also ignore the quality in that part i rushss to draw it haha)

now last one, self explanatory? mama shigaraki lives, afo and yoichi shared their nutrients and their quirk ( where it functions as afo cant give away the quirks he attain, only yoichi could((and only yoichi can receive the quirks his brother takes)) he also cant take the quirks from the user without consent. yoichi is the same but vice versa, but he himself also couldnt give away quirks unless the user consents 👐) everything is semi-normal for the most part. also. first pic is kinda outdated.some of it anyways....... also also i tried my best to make sure afo and yoichi rlly do look like twins despite the hair difference

now i wasnt able to attach the ofa bad end au and the "theyre happy" ending au bc image limit but the 1st is smth i actually wanna work on (but not fuly expand and actively post about, its just smth i gave more thought than the others here haha) and the 2nd one is just ab designs and basically everyone lives nbd dies au (maybe afo only tho)

so yeah. thats all the ofa aus i came up? yall already saw the other aus liek demon/angel au, the childhood friend au.... does the fankids i made count as an au.....? the mlp one......? holders grow old one????

fuck theres so much aus i need to relax hahdhsjf

anyways yeah thnx for reading allthat . entertaining questions wouldve been fun if i actually put enough thought into these aus💔 the hfx just went behind the wheel for these

#sorry ab the typos im sleepy rn hahdkef #btw if i ever do actual post dt to one of these xpect a reupload #that is all 4 now ig #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shigaraki yoichi #yoichi shigaraki #mha afo #mha all for one #all for one #mha kudou #second one for all user #second ofa user #2nd ofa user #bnha #mha #i dunno if im gonna tag kudoichi in this since its not shippy enough???#dahlia.art

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concreteburialplot · 2 months

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Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable.

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before.

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high?

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was.

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off.

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too.

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.”

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs.

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand.

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words.

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?”

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement.

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question.

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?”

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock.

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago.

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth.

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too.

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline.

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue.

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to.

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now.

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.”

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…”

-Next Day-

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago.

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission.

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her.

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer.

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster.

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine.

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

“Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again.

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe? shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me.

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line.

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us.

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk.

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon.

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it.

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble.

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?”

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers?

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky.

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you.

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once?

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy.

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle.

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be.

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body.

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space.

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot.

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep.

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out.

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness.

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one.

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush.

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one.

“It’s empty.”

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#i have edited this so many times and it got so long #sorry if there’s errors or is bad idk 😭#im honestly just really sick of editing and looking at it #longest chapter i’ve ever written for any of my series-es ever #as always lots of plot lots of dialogue #concreteburialplot works #intertwined series #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah x nicholas #noah x nicholas fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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ceilidho · 4 months

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Do you have any writing tips?? Like you write so GOOD

you could write shakespeare but could shakespeare write a great cod fic? I doubt it

first of all.....i am going to scream........second of all thnx u........

hmm i have some tips but tbh a lot of writing is just trial and error, like doing a bad job for a very long time until suddenly it's good. and these are just tips/rules that i follow; i don't think they're objectively the best tips in the world and they work for the way i like to write, but plenty of people have different styles and would maybe disagree with me, which is perfectly fine!

i really enjoy writing vivid sensory experiences, but i think to write a really immersive environment, you almost have to use words that seem unnatural. it's really difficult to evoke specific qualia in people so you have to do it in a roundabout way. this is really hard to describe and i'm doing a poor job here, but like for instance, here's something i wrote about a girl having trouble sleeping:

a bit of a play-by-play is fine (like "she went downstairs to get breakfast and went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and then set it on the table" sort of thing), but it takes way too long to use that kind of narration all the time and it's not needed. if you find yourself describing the texture of like, their cereal, and it's not actually relevant to the plot, it's just extra writing for nothing.

this is work, but i think you really need to fall in love with words. learn new words, write down their definitions, group words together by their sounds so you know what sounds nice together, don't choose a word simply because it describes the thing you're talking about but also because the word itself feels dry/wet/elongated/or otherwise mirrors the content of what you're writing.

if you struggle with finishing things or get overwhelmed by long projects, set limits for yourself. only 500-1000 words a day or something like that, and then don't touch it after you hit your limit. it gives you some control over your anxiety imo but it also allows you to slowly chip away at your project.

read a lot. read so much. i have learned soooo much from reading other people's work and actually deeply respecting and appreciating how they write. this isn't the most recent thing i've learned but i've come to looooooooveeeee seeing something like ["Sure," he lied] in a story like OOOHHH it's so thrilling to be in on something that other characters aren't in on.

don't feel confined to a specific style of writing. some fics might call for a sparser style because it suits the tone of the story, but some fics might call for more purple prose, you know? and that's fine! you can play around with your writing and try different things. i feel like i have a pretty specific style, but even i eschew it sometimes when the mood feels right, like how superstore is NOT the same kind of fic as saltwater - saltwater was meant to be more introspective and lush, so the style reflects that, whereas superstore is supposed to be more direct and put you a little on edge.

anyway, just some thoughts!!! the thing to also remember is that nobody's doing it perfectly because everyone has a different style and a different way they want to tell stories. sometimes i'll find a really good writer and feel like briefly consumed by jealousy, but i can also write certain stories that they can't and vice versa. so don't beat yourself up while you're learning!!

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chvnnie · 2 years

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Heyy

Could you do a Lee know smut in their car and he has a daddy kink and nipple kink

It’s A Scream, Baby!

lee minho x reader

word count: 1.9k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: non idol au, soft pleasure dom!minho, sub!reader, daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, nipple play, reader has pierced nipples, car sex, public sex, minho refers to reader as his “play thing” once, squirting. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: the movie is boring, you’re needy, minho is hot. how did you expect this night to turn out?

a/n: anon, you sent this the morning after i had a dream involving nipple play w a skz member so this was literally perfect. bless u for giving me an excuse to write this. also, i’m making a permanent taglist masterlist (does that make sense? idk) bc im losing track of who wants on it. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN BEING ADDED TO MY PERMANENT TAGLIST, PLEASE COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK. thnx :))) also this fic contains several references to my personal favorite movie, even if reader hates it lmao.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents lee minho as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal

The killer finally caught up to the main character, music building in dreadful anticipation of what was to come. Would he get her? Would she narrowly escape? Would the person you could have sworn died earlier in the movie come in at the last minute, sacrificing themselves for her?

If you were being honest, you didn’t really care. You had zoned out about thirty minutes in, the plot totally lost on you. How did they get here, anyway? Last you checked, her boyfriend was still detainted under suspicion of being the murderer. Was he out now?

Oh, who gives a shit?

Minho’s low chuckled filled the car, following a terrible joke from the comic relief.

Your boyfriend apparently gave a shit.

It wasn’t a surprise, given the fact that he was the one who suggested going to the drive-in. He was so excited about it, showing you the ad that popped up on his feed. The first three movies (apparently there were five? The thought of this movie having four sequels was making you lose brain cells) back to back for a whopping five dollars per car. It was a steal, and given the way his face lit up as he pitched the idea to you, you would be heartless to say no.

So that’s how you ended up in the backseat of the car, air conditioning on full blast and snuggled up under a blanket with Minho, watching as the boyfriend held a voice changer up to his mouth to reveal himself as the killer.

Huh. So he was guilty.

You looked over at your boyfriend, who was smiling like a kid in a candy shop. The movie reflected off of his glasses, almost hiding his pretty eyes that were sparkling with excitement. He wasn’t joking when he said this was his favorite movie; his reactions were almost enough to make you want to focus on the movie.

Key word: almost.

Instead you stared at him, eyes slowly taking in every inch of him. He sat with his legs spread, grey cotton shorts riding up his thighs from trying to get comfortable in the cramped backseat. The sweatshirt and hat he wore match, both stitched with the name of your shared university. The way he was wearing his hat, however, is what made you practically salivate, unable to look away. You loved when he wore it backwards, hair pushed out of the way so you could see every angle of his face. You could stare at him all day, constantly in awe of how god-like your boyfriend was.

He was much more interesting than some bad 90s horror movie.

You shifted your weight to rest your head on Minho’s shoulder, staring up at him with the slightest hint of a pout. His attention shifted from the movie to you, a small smile creeping on his face when his eyes met yours.

“Hi.” You said softly, gripping onto his right arm as you snuggled closer to him.

“Hi.” He responded, leaning in to peck the center of your forehead. “Having a good time?”

You shrug, fingers tracing a line up and down the arm you were holding. “Yeah. Kinda bored, though.”

He hummed, right hand moving under the blanket to wedge itself in between your thighs, staying close to your knees. “I’m sorry. Do you want to leave after this movie?”

“No, we can stay for the other two. I just…” the sentence trailed off as you found yourself growing shy. God, why? It’s not like you haven’t made a move on Minho before - if anything, you were the one constantly making moves. Constantly batting your eyelashes and pleading for your boyfriend to fuck you. He always gave in; no matter the time or place, if you wanted him, Minho would make sure you had him. He could never let his baby get too needy, after all.

“Just what?” Minho asked, and you could tell he was resisting the urge to smirk. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he wanted you to say it.

You opened your mouth with the intention of speaking your wants, but the way he was staring at you with eyes that were starting to grow wider with lust made your jaw snap shut. Timidly, you buried your head in his neck, too embarrassed to look at him.

With a click of his tongue, his other hand found the back of your neck and gently pulled your head up. “You gotta tell me, baby.” He whispered, the hand between your thighs prying them apart and slowly moving higher up. “I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

He paused right at the hem of your shorts, fingers teasing the edge of the athletic material as he waited patiently for you to speak. You knew him well enough to know that he would sit here all night, playing with your shorts until you explicitly told him to touch you. He never did anything without confirmation that you wanted it, and fuck, did you want it tonight. Taking a deep breath to try to calm the rapid pace at which your heart was racing, you finally spoke, lips trembling as you did so.

“I just need you to make me feel good.”

The smile he gave you had your heart doing backflips, butterflies fluttering out of your stomach and skin chilling. A smile filled with adoration, but also with just as much need for you as you had for him.

“See? That wasn’t hard.” His hand slid up over your shorts until he reached the waistline. “You know I’ll always take care of my baby.” He pinched the clenched material, pulling it back just a bit to make it snap. “Up.”

Your shorts were removed, tossed to the front seat of the car. Once your legs were spread open enough for his liking, Minho kissed you, his tongue wasting no time finding yours. You melted into the kiss, body immediately relaxing at the familiar taste. Minho used the hand on your neck to tilt your head, effectively deepening the kiss as his other hand began to rub your pussy over your panties. You moaned, hips lifting slightly to feel his strokes better.

“God, baby, you’re so wet.” He mumbled between kisses, spit covered lips glimmering in the light of the movie. “Have you been this wet the whole time?”

“Yes. All night, Min-“

At the sound of his nickname, Minho rolled his eyes, the fingers that were teasing you moving up to your clit and lightly pinching it over your panties. He held onto it, rubbing the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’s not my name, is it, baby?” He said with a raised voice to be sure you heard him over your moans.

You shook your head, a string of no’s falling from your lips. The way he was pinching you was so gentle, but firm enough to shoot waves of pain up your body, making the pleasure that much more intense and limiting your capability to think.

“What is it? Come on, say it. I really don’t feel like punishing you tonight-“

“Daddy.” You cried out, head tossing back and hitting the back window of the car. “You’re Daddy. Please, please Daddy, just touch me.”

Before you could even finish your sentence, his hand was down your panties, finally touching you without a barrier. It felt so good, the way he played with your folds, fingers knowing exactly where to put more pressure and where to back off.

“There we go. There’s Daddy’s good girl.” His voice was low, and if you weren’t already covered in goosebumps, you were sure just the sound of him practically growling would have your entire body chilled. “Always the most perfect play thing for me, aren’t you?”

While his filthy words flooded your senses, his other hand was pushing your oversized shirt up until your chest was revealed to him. If asked, Minho would say he didn’t have a “favorite” part of your body. He thought you were an absolute masterpiece - every curve, scar, freckle, and stretch mark never failing to make his mouth water. But he always found himself drawn to your chest and the perfect way your breasts fit in his hands and his mouth. When you got them pierced and he couldn’t touch them for months, Minho thought he was going to lose his mind - and in all fairness, he absolutely did and made up for every second he lost after they were healed.

Minho shifted his body so that he was in front of you, uncomfortably kneeling on the floor of the car. “Hold.” He commanded, and your hands immediately flew to your shirt, holding it up by your collarbones. Now face to face with your chest, Minho wetted his lips before latching onto you without warning. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he decided that this was the perfect moment to shove two fingers covered in your slick inside of you.

“F-fuck.” You whined, back arching with pleasure. “Fuck, daddy, j-just like that. Oh my god-“

You looked down at him to see your boyfriend staring at you wickedly, smiling against your chest as his free hand began to play with your other nipple. He toyed with the piercing with both his tongue and fingers, the sensation making your jaw drop, nothing but loud whines leaving your mouth.

He let go of your breast, fingers thrusting rapidly in and out of you as he looked up at you. “Squeezing my fingers so tight baby. You like that? Like it when daddy plays with your pretty tits?”

All you could do was nod, words failing to form at the moment. You lifted your hips, pushing yourself further down on his fingers to silently beg for more.

Minho got the hint.

“Oh? Gonna fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers, baby?” He asked, a large smile on his face. “Gonna make yourself come while I play with you some more?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, taking your other breast in his mouth and biting down on the nipple. His fingers paused, letting you control the tempo as you pathetically tried to bounce on them. It was enough, though; the feeling of Minho alternating his teeth and tongue, and hand teasing the other nipple helping to tighten the rope in your lower belly.

Pussy clenching around his fingers, you watched his eyes roll back in pleasure, the groan he released making your chest jiggle. He looked delicious, eyes shut in satisfaction as he focused on helping you get off.

Fuck, Minho was incredible.

You were about to attempt to ask for permission when you felt his cold thumb press against your clit, only moving left to right once before the dam broke. You screamed, cumming hard around his fingers. It gushed out in a spray, drenching the seat of the car and Minho’s sweatshirt. Only when he was sure you were finished did he let go of your tit, removing his fingers from your fluttering cunt.

Minho climbed back onto the seat next to you, head thrown back as he panted like he was the one who just squirted all over the backseat of the car. You rolled your head over to look at him, the same wide smile still painted his face.

“Fuck.” He said, turning to meet your gaze. “That was one hell of a scream, baby.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #lee know smut #minho smut #stray kids fics #skz fics #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #chvnnie requests

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