#and it's parts that I don't enjoy seeing so

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[fictionalsweethearts]

SUBLIMATE THE PAIN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Sevika helps you to explore yourself and subside the pain and the shame of self pleasure.

Contains: comfort, soft!sevika, unexperienced!reader, wlw, first sexual experiences, soft talk, masturbation, fingering.

A pretty personal fic, tbh, but Sevika as a character seems to be patient and loving when it comes to sex and I'm here to write about it. Enjoy!

Sevika had promised you patience and comfort, a woman with her vast sexual experience knew the unpleasant and uncomfortable details of love. She knew the burning and the pain, the disgust, the sorrow, the shame and the numbness, and for that reason she had promised to accompany you in the process with as much patience as necessary.

She kissed you again on the neck, a mirror stood before you sitting on the bed, Sevika's vast hand ran over your breasts and her grey eyes looked at you through the reflection, inviting you to stop ignoring the signs of your body. Her breasts brushed your back, her mechanical hand gently parted your legs and revealed the juiciness and softness of your core.

"How do you pretend to touch her without knowing her?" The woman asked. "You ignore many things, babe."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment since you had your first kiss of the evening, but you promised not to let shyness win you over this time. It was the third night and the third time you tried, the last two having ended with a sudden lock-in in the bathroom or tears of shame and frustration running down your cheeks.

"I can't. I swear I can't." You cried as Sevika kissed your wet cheeks.

"Of course you can, don't be like that with yourself."

You considered that Sevika could be your mentor in this unknown field for you, the guide that would allow you to understand sex as something more than a mere routine or necessary act. "To begin with, doll, we don't intend to have a child with this. Not even if we wanted to. Second, I've seen as many pussies in my life as I've smoked cigarettes and yours is undoubtedly beautiful."

You laughed to hide your shame, but Sevika meant it. She was decades ahead of you in sexual experiences, she knew the female anatomy in depth, taking the time to explore herself first. Sevika knew that no one could teach her how to have an orgasm, and she fondly remembers the first times she tried self pleasure in the silence of her room, picturing that pretty girl at the market who used to sell her peaches at a good price. It was another Zaun, more precarious, less saturated with pornography and violence, and certainly her brain needed little to start imagining. And the softness of the girl's breasts under her blouse, her long neck and olive eyes were more than enough to awaken that visceral desire in her.

She dedicated her first orgasm to that girl and her peach scent. It was in a way tender, but the starting point of an endless journey through the unexplored region of sexuality. She soon discovered that inserting a finger was pleasant, that if she moved it in a certain way, it was even more so. She discovered that her breasts were sensitive if touched properly, that her entire skin was a map of erogenous zones and tickles, that rubbing her pussy against the pillow was delicious, and that after an orgasm she slept better. And soon, as soon as she was over five foot seven and learned to smoke without coughing, Sevika discovered that touching herself tasted better if someone she liked did it for her.

"Slow." Sevika whispered, placing a kiss on your shoulder. "Look at yourself. What do you see?"

"My pussy." You whispered, barely giving your reflection time to look back at you.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not bad it's…"

"Strange?"

"I don't usually look at my pussy, Sev." You groaned.

"You should, it's pretty." Sevika laughed, caressing your waist with her metal fingers. "Think of all the men who have been staring at their cocks for as long as they've been conscious of them hanging between their legs, do you think they feel ashamed?"

You hesitated. "No?"

"There are two things a man always believes to be true." Sevika said, her tone lighter. "That they have the fattest cock on the block and that they can duel a bear without weapons, and win."

You laughed, your legs shaking slightly. Sevika smiled back. "If only you had the confidence they have in themselves, doll. It would be all so different."

Your expression sobered, this time giving the gap between your legs a longer look, that much neglected organ that deserved just a little more recognition in your life and in the lives of many other women.

"Look at the labia majora, the shape of it, the length of it…" Sevika whispered. "It frames the labia minora, the ones closest to the entrance."

You'd seen them in some anatomy book at the library, but recognizing them on yourself was quite different.

"I should have shaved more." You groaned in frustration.

Sevika snorted. "Are you saying that because of you or me? Cause lemme tell you, a hairy pussy doesn't grosses me out. On the contrary."

"But it does to me."

"Mine repels you?" Sevika inquired, leaving you speechless for a moment.

"No…" you whispered. "Yours… it's yours."

"I see. Now think the same about yours, sweetie." Sevika said. "Yours is what it is and that's it. Don't you dare apologize for how your body looks. Do I apologize for not having an arm?"

And you fell silent once more. Sevika sighed, kissing your neck. “You get my point.”

Sevika reveled in your body, in your flushed cheeks and focused eyes. She loved seeing you present. “You’re already wet.” She whispered. “But it can get wetter. Take two fingers.”

Sevika brought you index and middle fingers parted to the sides of your entrance, urging you to press. “Massage, slow.” She whispered, showing you the movement.

You obeyed, following the motion timidly at first, until you soon understood the purpose. That movement, however subtle, opened a pent-up dam that began to make you wetter and wetter. You moaned, feeling the urge to touch the rest but Sevika held your wrist. “Start from edges.” She said. “Don’t rush it.”

It was one of your vices, quick, silent masturbation. With your legs closed, a hand on your mouth and your eyes closed tightly, as if you were committing a crime that you wanted to finish soon. They were fleeting moments of pleasure that later turned into disconnection with yourself.

But Sevika knew you deserved better than that.

With your index finger you traced circles on your labia majora, slowly while Sevika whispered in your ear, kissed it and bit your lobe, making you shudder subtly. It was a constant and gentle movement, with no other purpose than to explore yourself.

"Come closer to the center." Sevika whispered. "Apply pressure, rub a little."

Your eyelids fluttered at that tickling between your legs, the sticky and wet murmur of your folds that made Sevika moan softly and her breathing accelerate, her breasts pressing against your back. Your hips moved unconsciously, you looked at your hand through the mirror, delicately between your legs with the elegance of an erotic painting.

"You're so pretty." Sevika gasped. "Look how your cheeks blush."

"Yours too."

Sevika smiled. "It just turns me on like you can't imagine seeing you touching yourself."

Sevika was known to be an avid spectator. More than once she would abstain from participating and sit on the couch in the brothel with a cigarette between her teeth, asking her girl to give her a show. There was something about watching such an intimate ritual that stirred every nerve fiber in her. Watching them unfold before her, rubbing themselves the way they liked, moaning genuinely, shuddering, whimpering and sighing, being able to see how their own hand is able to take them on a roller coaster of sensations. That ritual held a power that Sevika was fascinated to behold, and tonight you were her apprentice and her muse.

Sevika squeezed your breast, playing with your hardened, sensitive nipple. She already wanted to taste them, but she had to be patient. The appetizer was your self-exploration, the dessert was her mouth between your legs.

"You know… when there's too much business to attend to." Sevika said, her grey eyes watching you. "I can't visit the girls, so I lay back on my bed with a cigarette between my lips…" she murmured. "And I squeeze my breasts. Over and over, I touch them… massage them… while thinking of old encounters, of sounds… smells. You know how I love smells."

"All of them." You whimpered.

"Yes… from the armpits to the neck, between a couple of breasts and a wet pussy." Sevika sucked in between her teeth. "All of them."

You remember how Sevika had taken to sniffing you the first time she had you. She inhaled the scent of your neck and the crook of your elbows, behind your knees and your armpits. It was a scent loaded with codes, codes that communicated intentions. The pheromones were the best card to attract the most finicky organ of the human body; the nose.

"Sev." You whimpered. "Can you…?"

"That would be the shortcut, so no. I won't touch you yet."

You groaned, tilting your head back as Sevika placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Patience." Sevika drew your hand to the shy hood at the top of your pussy. "Pamper her, that's what it's for."

You traced circles around it, letting out a gasp. Sevika kept her hand on your wrist, indicating the methodical and steady pace, drawing sweet moans from you. "I'm wet just by looking at you." She whispered.

You bit your lip, the urge to grind harder and harder. An orgasm was building inside you, steady and certain, as Sevika kissed your neck and motioned for you to quicken your pace. "Ah, fuck…"

"Moan better." Sevika said. "You can be as loud as you want here."

You whimpered, your hips seeking more contact as you moved and you rubbed against your hand. Sevika pressed her fingers against you, urging you on. "Keep going… don't rush." ​​

"Ah, Sev."

"You like it? It's better when you don' try to cum in two minutes."

You hurried your hand, but Sevika held you back. This wasn't a race and you were certainly getting ahead of yourself. "Old habits die hard."

Her metal hand held your legs apart, her other hand ascending to your chin to make you look at yourself in the mirror again. “We’ll try again, okay?”

This part was the one you liked the least. It wasn’t just the pain, it was the accumulated frustration from past sessions with no results. Sevika told you it was all in your head, that you were just as deserving of this pleasure as others. But you still felt skeptical.

“Middle finger.” She whispered, bringing it to your entrance. “Just press, darling. Soften your entrance.”

You pressed your lips together, obeying her command even though you preferred to rub. You eased the tip of your finger, gently moving it in circles. “It already burns.” You whined.

“I know. We talked about sublimating pain, remember?” You nodded. “Your body is already relaxed, you’re wet. You need to focus on breathing.”

It seemed that when it came to penetration, your body locked up. It was an overwhelming burn, a wall of fire if you will, closing in around your fingers and keeping you from entering. Sevika had tried this in the past, drawing whimpers from you that would never stop causing her guilt. This time, however, it was about allowing yourself to do it.

"I don't like it, Sev."

"You don't like it because you're predisposed to suffer." she insisted. "I know you can, babygirl."

You looked at Sevika through the mirror, her grey eyes soothing you. "Breathe, deep. One… two…" you inhaled, your hand between your legs, the wall of fire present. "Three. Exhale…"

You dared to venture deeper, your walls coupling to your finger as the burn quickened your breathing. "Shh." Sevika kissed your neck. "Breathe again."

One… two… three…

Exhale.

“Ah…” you moaned, inserting the last bit of your finger and feeling the latent but less painful tension. “Mhm.”

“Good girl, look at yourself.”

You opened your eyes, looking at yourself in the mirror. The palm of your hand rested against your clit, your finger inserted all the way in, like a new but unrejected intrusion. “Sev.”

“I told you you could, you're taking it whole.” Sevika smiled. "Can you move it?"

You barely curled your finger, but you recognized the rugous wall inside you. "Yes…" you moaned.

"Breath for me." continued Sevika, gently taking your wrist as she motioned you to curl your fingers once more. "One... two..."

"Mhm, Sev." you moaned, your eyes closing. "Fuck."

"Does it hurt?"

"The pressure." you managed to explain.

"You're tensing, baby. Relax..." Sevika let out a pant, kissing the side of your neck. "You're doing so good."

You endured and took a deep breath, curling your finger against the inner wall Sevika talked you about. You felt a tickle, barely diminishing due to an increasingly timid pain.

And Sevika seemed pleased. "You did good, baby. Rest."

You pulled your finger back when the pressure forced it, only for Sevika to cup your chin in her fingers and pull you in for a long kiss. "Well done." She said between kisses. "Fuck, you looked so beautiful."

Sevika showered you in kisses, from your mouth to your navel, repeating how proud she was of you. "You've crossed the threshold, gorgeous. You just need to practice."

You smiled, feeling the hint of a happy cry build up in your throat. But Sevika cheered you up with another kiss. "We'll try again tomorrow. Sooner than later I'll have you cumming in my fingers over and over again."

You chuckled, watching Sevika kiss your inner thigh. "It's rude to look at the food without eating it, y'know?" you teased her.

"How rude of me." she purred, her kisses coming closer to your wet and now dilated pussy. "You better moan properly, doll."

"All you want."

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello, can I please request Charles jealous smut?

AN: Definitely went a bit of a different route than normal but I enjoyed writing this! Started it right before I went to the hospital and was able to finish it tonight! I hope you guys enjoy. I know its a bit shorter but I'm running on melatonin and oxi so bare with me haha

TW: multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, low-key asshole Charles (very beginning)

WC: 1.2K

Y/N POV

"Charles, what's wrong?" I ask for the third time since getting back into the car after leaving the end of year Ferrari dinner.

"God damn it, Y/N! Nothing I said nothing was fucking wrong," Charles snaps at me making me gasp slightly at the out burst.

"Charles Leclerc, do not ever speak to me like that again," I shout at him when we finally get back to the apartment.

I had chosen to keep quiet the rest of the way home, hoping it would help cool the both of us down but when we walked through the door and Charles instantly beelined for our bedroom mumbling to himself I finally snap.

"Then don't ever talk to Carlos Sainz again," Charles snap back while turning around to show he had fire in his eyes.

It finally had clicked for me. Charles was jealous which isn't something that happens often but when it does he tends to turn into the green monster.

"Charles, are you fucking kidding me! Carlos is leaving Ferrari, and I was telling him about how I've enjoyed his time with Ferrari," I shout back at him making Charles roll his eyes before stomping his way into the bedroom and slamming the door. The whole dramatics

A part of me just laughs softly at his childish antics but the other part of me is still raging with anger at the way he had spoken to me.

I make my way into the kitchen grabbing myself something to drink before grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking a shot of the bitter liquor.

When I feel myself cool down just enough I march into out bedroom to find Charles already under the covers ready for bed but instead of him laying in the middle of the bed like normal he's on the very edge as far away from my side as possible.

"I hope Leo pushes you off the bed," I scoff when Charles doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Maybe if you slept in Carlos's bed like you want I would have more room to cuddle with Leo," Charles replies back in a sheepish mumble showing me that he's getting close to crumbling and apologizing.

"It's actually why I came in here. Need to pack an overnight bag," I comment with a smirk on my face but before I can even make it into the closet Charles is up from his spot on the bed and storming towards me before pushing me against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" Charles seethes making me shrug my shoulders.

"I mean ya kind of Charles, we both know damn well I have never and will never be into Carlos, so ya you being jealous and threatened by him is hilarious," I reply back making Charles's eyes narrow slightly at me before I see his should relax slightly.

"I- 'm sorry," Charles mumbles clearly letting the embarrassment sink in.

"I don't know why it upset me so much tonight. I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry for getting jealous and even more sorry for how I spoke to you," Charles admits softly while pulling my face into his hand.

"I don't even care when you get jealous, if anything I find it hot as fuck, but I do care about the way you speak to me," I tell him softly feeling my anger slowly start to ease.

"I know and it was wrong, I really am sorry," Charles says again making me smile softly and nod my head.

"You're forgiven, but I demand 3 orgasms," I say with a smile and a nod.

"Deal," Charles says with a laugh before pulling me in and placing a soft kiss on my lips and pulling me by my waist towards our bed.

When Charles drops me down on the bed he quickly climbs up to join me pulling off his shirt at the same time.

When Charles joins me on the bed he wraps my legs around his hips before he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss while grinding his hard cock down into my dripping core.

"Charles please, I need you," I whine when I can feel my pleasure soaking through my flimsy panties.

Charles finally pulls back and quickly pulls my panties off before wasting no time attaching his mouth to my sensitive clit. He knew it wouldn't take long to throw me over the edge but when I feel him slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy I can't help the loud cry that falls from my lips.

"Fuck! Charlie," I cry when I feel his fingers grazing my G-spot while his lips are still sucking on my clit.

"Cum for me," Charles mumbles into my pussy making me cry out and cum all over his finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan in a chant as Charles continues to fuck me through my first orgasm.

"Too much," I cry when I realize Charles isn't letting me come down from my high but rather throwing me right into another orgasm.

"You want three no?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face before speeding his fingers up even more and attaching his mouth back to my overly sensitive clit.

"Charles," I cry out when I feel his start speeding all his actions up clearly with the intentions to bring me to another orgasm.

"Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself fall over the edge again not expecting the orgasm to hit me so fast.

"Fuck, good girl," Charles groans while fingering me harder and letting me squirt all over the bed and his face.

As soon as I started to come down from my high Charles is quickly pulling his boxer off before climbing back into bed and quickly rubbing the tip of his hard leaking cock through my soaked folds before finding my dripping hole and quickly pushing his whole cock deep into my pussy making me whimper the the stretch of his cock.

"Fuck!" Charles and I both groan put at the exact same time while he starts slowly thrusting his hips in and out of my soaked pussy.

It doesn't take long for me to fully adjust to Charles's size and once I do he quickly speeds up his trusts while making sure to hit all the good spots deep within my pussy.

"Fuck Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself crawling closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Fuck, feel so good," Charles cries out as his hips start to shutter a bit letting me know he was getting close to cumming as well.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel Charles bring his fingers down to my clit and teasing me until I fall over the edge pulling him with me.

"Fuck," Charles grunts out when I feel his hip shutter one final time before filling my pussy up with his hot cum.

As we are both trying to catch our breath I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to rest his body on top of mine.

"Fuck, that was good," I breath out making Charles laugh softly.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the car and when we got home," Charles says while slowly slipping his softening cock out of me and laying on his back and pulling me into his chest.

"You're forgiven, I guess," I tease making Charles roll his eyes softly but still pull me in tighter to his chest.

"I love you and thinking about losing you makes me a bit insane," Charles admits making me smile softly. I definitely couldn't imagine my life without him either.

"I love you too," I reply back softly while curling into his side a bit closer.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I'm really enjoying reading the things you wrote for the future event and trien sensei event! Wonderful writing as usual ^^

If you don't mind me asking, I actually want to see some yume content to certain twst characters from japanese players but I don't know what tag to use or where to look Do you know where I'm supposed to look? I'm not sure how jp player tag their content.

NOTE: I know shipping can be a sensitive thing, but please, please, please be civil about it. This is meant to be an informative post; if I list particular tags or examples here, they are just meant to be that: TAGS and EXAMPLES. It is not equivalent to me endorsing certain content or ships.

Thank you for the feedback 🎵 I have a lot more requests to write so you’ll be fed for a while please look forward to those~

The Japanese fandom LOVES to tag works so it's easy for other fans to find what they are interested in and to avoid what they dislike. Keep the fandom etiquette in mind and practice it yourself! This means don't use unrelated tags to boost exposure when sharing your own posts; it's seen as disrespectful and rude. It also means you do NOT go out of your way to find content you know you dislike and attack the creator.

I believe the general tag for Twst is # ツイステファンアート or #ツイステ. #twstファンアート or #twstイ��スト are used for Twst fan art. Most people I know look for Twst stuff on Pixiv, Twitter, or doujin purchasing sites.

If you're looking for shipping content, there are different tags for that:

# twstプラス is for any Twst character x Prefect

#女監督生 is female Prefect

#男監督生 is male Prefect

#男装監督生 is female Prefect dressed in male clothing or pretending to be male

#twstプラスNL is for Twst character x female Prefect

#twstプラスBL is for Twst character x male Prefect

#twstBL can be used for Twst character x Twst character (no Prefect)

#オリ監 (may also include 創作), #顔あり, and #監督生顔あり refers to the creator's OC or their interpretation of Yuu; Prefect generally has a "face" in these works

#モブ is a generic or “mob” character; typically means Prefect is faceless or can easily be self-inserted or projected onto

#ツイステ夢 or #twst夢 is “yume” or self ship works

If you see a B or Q in the tag, the former means male and the latter means queer or genderfluid

Here are tags that may help you find a particular genre or more specific content:

#夜のツイステ or #夜のツイステプラス refers to general 18+ Twst content

#夜のtwstプラス is for 18+ Twst character x Prefect

#twstマイナス is for yandere Twst character x Prefect

#夜のtwstマイナス is for 18+ yandere Twst character x Prefect

#女化 or #にょた is a scenario in which a character's gender changes to female

#ケモノ is animal features, generally ears and tail (ie kemonomimi); this doesn't refer to beastmen (who already have these traits by default), but generally refers to Prefect or a non-beastman gaining them

#ツイステプラス or #twstプラス is typically “feed good” romantic content

#ツイステマイナス or #twstマイナス is basically angst or content that makes you feed bad

#twstパロ is literally “parody” or an AU; you can add other phrases ahead of it to denote the kind of AU

#卒業後 is "after graduation" and generally means a work setting

受け refers to a submissive or passive personality while 攻め refers to a more aggressive personality; these typically describe the dynamics in a romantic relationship

If you’re looking on Twitter, specific emojis tend to refer to the characters or groups of characters, which I have listed below. I’ve also included the first 2-3 katakana of each character’s first names.

The beginning katakana are combined with one another in order to write ship names. For example, if you want Leona x Prefect, you’d combine the first few katakana for Leona, レオ, and Prefect, 監 or ユウ, to create レオ監 or レオユウ (LeoPrefect or Leona x Prefect). Use a similar formula for your desired character. For example, swap out the レオ (Leo-) part for ジェイ and you get ジェイ監, or JeiPrefect, or Jade x Prefect.

Generally for yumeshipping, it’s the canon character’s name first and then Prefect in the end.

If you’re looking for a BL ship, name order matters. The name that appears first is the “proactive” one in the relationship, while the name that appears second is the “passive” one. For example, カリジャミ (Kalim x Jamil) has Kalim as the lead in the relationship, but ジャミカリ (Jamil x Kalim) has Jamil as the lead in the relationship. YOU DO NOT CROSSTAG; the name order basically makes the ship two entirely separate things and they are treated as such in the JP fandom.

Heartslabyul -> 🃏 ビュル

Riddle Rosehearts -> 🌹 リド

Ace Trappola -> ❤️ エー

Deuce Spade -> ♠️ デュ

Trey Clover -> ♣️ トレ

Cater Diamond -> ♦️ ケイ

Savanaclaw -> 🏜️ サバナ

Leona Kingscholar -> 🦁 レオ

Ruggie Bucchi -> 🐆 / 🍩 ラギ

Jack Howl -> 🐺 ジャク

Octavinelle -> 🐚 オクタ

Azul Ashengrotto -> 🐙 アズ

Jade Leech -> 🐬 ジェイ

Floyd Leech -> 🦈 フロ

Tweels -> イド

Scarabia -> 🕌 / 🧞‍♂️ スカラ

Kalim Al-Asim -> 🦂 / ☀️ / 🦦 / 🕌 カリ

Jamil Viper -> 🐍 ジャミ

Pomefiore -> 🍏 / 👸‍ ポメ

Vil Schoenheit -> 👑 ヴィ(ル)

Rook Hunt -> 🏹 ルク

Epel Felmier -> 🍎 エペ

Ignihyde -> ⚙️ / 🔥 イグニ

Idia Shroud -> 💀 イデ

Ortho Shroud -> 🤖 オル

Diasomnia -> 🐉 ディア

Malleus Draconia -> 🐲 マレ

Lilia Vanrouge -> 🦇 リリ

Silver -> ⚔️ / 💤 シル

Sebek Zigvolt ->⚡ セベ

Ramshackle -> 👻 オンボロ

Prefect -> 🦐 (🌸 or 🚺 = female, 🚹 = male) 監 or ユウ

Manga Prefect (usually refers to Yuuken) -> 🦞 コミ監

Grim -> 🐱 / 🐈‍⬛ グリ

NRC Staff -> 🎓 NRC(の)職員

Dire Crowley -> 🎭 / 🐦 クロ

Divus Crewel -> ⚗️ / 🐶 クル

Mozus Trein -> 📚 / 📖 モゼ

Ashton Vargas -> 💪‍‍ バル

Sam -> ☠️ / 🎩 サム

Lucius -> 🐾 ルチウス

Halloween Characters

Rollo -> 🔔 ロロ

Fellow/Ernesto -> 🦊 フェロ

Gidel -> 🐱 ギデル

Skully -> 🎃 スカ

Family Members and NPCs

Ace’s older brother or Anippola -> 兄ッポラ

Dylla -> ディラ

Chenya -> 😺 チェーニャ

Cheka -> 🧶 チェカ

Falena -> ファレ

Kifaji/Neji -> キファ��ー

Najma -> 💫 ナジュ

Ambrose the 63rd -> 🧙‍ ア ン

Neige -> ❄️ ネイジュ

Marja -> マーヤ

Baur -> 🐊 バウル

Dawn Knight 🌅 -> 夜明けの騎士 (this is his full title since we don’t know his actual name), have also seen 夜明パパ and シルバーパパ (“Dawn Papa” and “Silver Papa”)

Maleanor -> マレノア

I hope that helps you out ^^ Happy hunting, English-speaking Twsties!!

[atxthexritz]

okay imma...

I haven't read ASOIAF, and i only watched a couple seasons of GOT because my partner at the time wanted to watch the last season together. BUT, GRRM is very public in his opinion on how good his farts smell, which is truly the most nauseating trait any creative can have. I don't love GOT, i absorbed enough of it to know I don't like it. Which is a thing you are allowed to do as a person. You are not obligated to keep consuming art you don't enjoy just so your opinion is valid to people who have made their permanent personality a single media franchise. I abhor sexual violence being used as flippantly as GRRM uses it in plots. I don't like worlds with no actual heroes, only opposing shades of dark grey. The ecology of Westeros and Essos is fucked. The mishmash of technology is fucked, as is the pretty broadly estimated european, mediterranian and nomadic cultures that have been amalgamated. That's all FINE, if the author's intent is "Fuck it, its fantasy, it makes sense because it makes sense. Don't think about it it doesn't matter" But it does matter, its stated like, episode 2 that the turning of time matters. Winter is Coming and its going to FUCK Westeros. and thats BEFORE considering the Other's, thats just, WINTER sucks. but we aren't shown, we are told. The effect winter has on the world is given to us by people going winter is bad. Maybe in the text GRRM explains more, but a lot of people with a lot of receipts seem to indicate he does not. If you have some evidence to the contrary and would like to intelligently engage in defense of something you like please do. But i will say if tumblr user johnsnowdaddy1120 reblogs me and says "No theses books are bible and GRRM is god." as a whole thought I'm not gonna be swayed. You can like ASOIAF. They can also be flawed, and GRRM can be full of shit sometimes. The thing you love doesn't have to be perfect. If people are misrepresenting it, speak up, but don't just say "No." I'd love to see some people finding all the passages that show we're wrong. I'd love to have a discussion. I'd love to calmly disagree. I understand that a lot of people like brutal political realism. I don't, but that doesn't make the people that can healthily engage with things that make me uncomfortable are bad people.

I don't like realism. I love escapism and so ASOIAF has little for me. if its your bag, cool, if you have some evidence that shows how GRRM has taken care in some of the books or novellas or whatever to ground the speculative parts of his world in a way that supports his stance of realism, I would love to see that. I love learning. with the information if have ASOIAF/GOT is good, brutalist fantasy. I do not think it stands as a good example of realism because the dark realism is at opposition of the speculative and fantastical elements of the setting. that's my opinion based on a good hundred hours of watch time and of cultural osmosis.

Someone over on Discord asked, "I'm morbidly curious: How BAD is A Song of Ice and Fire in terms of the authenticity George claims it to be?"

My reply was straightforward:

The long and the short of it is that ASOIAF is basically a vehicle for GRRM to present both his rape fetish and his Hobbesian view on human nature and has less historical accuracy than Frozen or most other Disney movies.

That's actually a good way to think of it, now that I've said it--he's Family Unfriendly, they're Family Friendly, but both have the same relationship with History: just Pure Aesthetic with no consideration for how the worldbuilding would work.

[ldrfanatic]

Hii! I don't know if you are still doing soulmate prompts but if you are I would love to see one with Theodore Nott (as a series or one-shot) Ofc u don't have to and if you aren't doing them anymore dww!! I love your writing it's so good!

love you for a lifetime

Hiiii!! definitely still doing soulmate prompts, i adore them. feel free to request more with theo or any of the boys. I'm sorry this one is so short and that it took so long to get out, I'm moving in a few weeks so I've been busyyyy. I will however most likely write a part two to this just bc i don't feel like soulmate theo and reader are quite through yet. enjoy! ;)

theodore nott x fem!soulmate!reader

soulmate prompt - you see the world in black and white until you meet your soulmate. when you meet them, everything explodes into color.

warnings - cursing i think??? more soft theo :)

theodore nott didn't need to see the world in color.

he didn't want to.

he didn't need a soulmate. his mother had found hers and look where that left her. dead.

no, theo was perfectly content seeing his world in different shades of gray. there was a quiet peace to a colorless world. and he'd never seen color, so there was nothing for him to miss really. but then he met you, and everything changed.

14 Year Old Theo

theo groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. the taste of dirt filled his mouth. quidditch practice was supposed to be harmless. somehow, he'd been knocked off his broom. while the fall to the ground was a short one, he still felt the painful crunch of his wrist breaking his fall. paired with the hard thunk of his head on the ground, theo knew that this would earn him a trip to madam pomfrey.

theo detested the hospital wing. madam pomfrey was bearable enough, but the white bedspreads and miserable patients made him want to walk all the way to the top of the astronomy tower just to throw himself off.

begrudgingly, he allowed his friends to drag him through the corridors. even through his insistence that he could take himself the hospital wing and didn't need an escort, they still seemed unconfident that he would actually keep his promise and go. maybe they had a point.

what he hadn't expected was to see the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. he'd never seen you around school before which seemed odd since you were clearly around his age and probably within his year, give or take.

you were fussing around with a cabinet full of glittering potions and things. theo suspected it to be some kind of medicine cupboard. he cleared his throat in a manner that he hoped was nonchalant. finally, you glanced in his direction. your gaze didn't meet his though. and more than anything, theo found himself disappointed.

you offered him a distracted smile, still without really looking at him and calling absentmindedly for madam pomfrey. theo found himself oddly frustrated that you wouldn't look at him.

madam pomfrey floated into the room and started fussing over theo while you prepared a cot for him to sit on. once he was situated, madam pomfrey waltzed off towards the back broom closet, muttering about a number of items that theo had never heard of.

"oh! y/n, dear. he seems to have hit his head, can you please take his pulse for me."

theo wasn't sure what his pulse had to do with hitting his head, but the moment your delicate hands picked up his wrist, he couldn't bring himself to care. anything that got you touching him was justified enough in his book.

finally, as you were examining his face for signs of distress, your eyes met his.

the world stopped. theo's vision whitened, like the lights were suddenly too bright.

when the light faded, the world was filled with breathtaking shades of every color theo had never even known existed. more importantly, he could see all the hues of you. the glow of the sun against your skin, the sheen of your hair. you were beautiful. there wasn't a sight that compared to you in this moment.

naturally, theo had heard from mattheo about the stunning green grass at the quidditch field and the pretty deep blues and purples of the night sky. and yet, theo knew for certainty that nothing that he'd seen either in color or in black and white could hold a candle to you.

theo didn't need to see the world in color.

he didn't want to.

he didn't want a soulmate.

but the gods had given him one anyway without thought or care for what he wanted. and he would spend the rest of his mortal life cherishing every minute with you. every smile on your face, every giggle that burst from your chest like an eagle learning to fly.

"amour?"

love.

theo snapped back to the present. that's what you were to him. his love. your cheek was pressed against the interior of his shoulder and a concerned look was fixed on your face.

"where'd you go theo?"

"just reminiscing, sweetheart. remembering us."

a tender look from you had theo ready to melt into the couch. had you always been this beautiful? the answer was of course a resounding yes.

sure theo had only had the pleasure of being your boyfriend for the past two years or so, but he couldn't imagine that there was any part of your life where you hadn't been stunning.

theo’s breath caught in his chest as you shifted against him, adjusting to nestle a little closer. the warmth of your skin, the soft rise and fall of your breath, everything about this moment felt so perfectly right—as if the universe had aligned just for the two of you. he had never known peace until now. the kind of peace that made his heart settle in a way he never realized it could.

your fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, the motion so soothing that it made him want to close his eyes and forget about the world outside. but the world, in all its new, brilliant color, was nothing compared to you.

"i still can't believe it," theo murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "how i never saw the world the way i do now... how i almost closed myself off to the possibility of a soulmate."

you pulled back slightly, lifting your head to look at him, your eyes still as bright as the first time he'd seen them, even if now they were surrounded by the hues of a million shades he couldn't describe. your gaze softened as you pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, your fingertips grazing his skin in a way that made his heart thump uncomfortably fast.

"i guess it’s a good thing you didn't, huh?" you teased, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, but there was an undeniable softness in your eyes, an understanding that only you could give him.

theo shifted slightly, his chest tightening with a quiet emotion he didn’t fully understand but knew was rooted in the purest kind of affection.

"you’ve changed everything," he said, his voice thick with something tender—something almost too big for his chest to hold. "i never needed color. i never needed anyone." he took a slow breath, letting his eyes meet yours, locking onto the deep hues of your soul that were now more than just a feeling; they were as real to him as the air he breathed.

"and yet... there you were." he finished, the words leaving his lips with a quiet finality. "from the moment i saw you, you were everything to me."

you gave him a smile that lit up his entire world, even brighter than the colors he'd once thought he'd never need. your hand reached for his, your fingers intertwining with his with a natural ease that made everything feel like it was meant to be.

"and there i was," you said softly, your hand reaching up to gently cup his cheek. "you don’t have to carry it all alone, theo. i’m here, always. just… let me be the one you need."

theo felt the corners of his lips tug into a small, genuine smile, the weight of his worries dissipating in the air between you. you were everything. in your presence, there was no need for anything more. the colors, the love—it was all right here. in this moment. with you.

"always, sweetheart," theo whispered, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "forever."

and with that, the rest of the world— once dim and somber, now full of brilliant color and light—felt like it could wait. as long as he had you by his side, he was exactly where he needed to be.

[yessirplease69]

❝Above The Clouds & Among The Stars❞

Synopsis: Moments belonging to the relationship between you and your childhood friend, which has evolved over time. Caleb still believes that hiding his feelings from you is the most suitable choice.

✈ Content: caleb x fem reader, caleb headcanons, nsfw, explict sexual content, suggestive (mature content), drama, angst, fluff, reader being slow for not realizing how caleb is in love with her, caleb being so loving, caleb being possessive, reader is a virgin, the final part maybe happens just before the explosion?, there are many references that are found in the history of the game.

✈ Word Count: 4K

♫ Caleb playlist on Spotify: here.

a\n: ✎─ It's been so long since I posted here, finally college gave me a break. I wrote this while listening to ♫ Tinashe - Cold Sweat ♫ 50 Cent - Just a Lil Bit ♫ so you guys could say these songs were playing on the radio in the garage (spoiler lol). I feel like he would listen to songs like 50 Cent's, it really fits his style... Hope u enjoy it!

Caleb, during his high school years, is part of one of the senior classes and he has been assigned the role of class monitor for Physical Education. Although he is not in the same section as you, his role is incorporated into your core subjects, which means you encounter him more frequently in the gymnasium or in other sports areas. Occasionally, you bump into each other in the hallways, despite both of your schedules being different.

Caleb, who is always looking after you, ensures that you have all the necessary items for school, helping you choose the appropriate gym clothes for physical exercises and new supplies. This includes preparing breakfast for you and his Gran, washing an apple, and packaging it perfectly for you to take for a snack. He always wears a radiant smile on his face as he takes the strap of your bag to secure it on his left shoulder, since his right shoulder is occupied by his backpack. Caleb never allows you to take it back, as it is difficult to go against the strength of this man, who stands at 6 feet 3 inches tall, and you simply have to accept this, even if you grumble from the passenger seat of his car all the way to the school entrance.

Caleb, who has always been so affectionate only with you, is constantly touching your arms, back, cheeks, waist, and tenderly kissing your hands, even making random drawings on their palms while he is captivated by you as you excitedly share about your day. He is the type who loves physical touch and believes it creates a connection between souls because he loves you so deeply that it hurts, and this man feels that pain when he touches you. Most of the time, it is an innocent affection, and he just wants to have you close, as it is not possible to have more than that.

Caleb, who sees you growing physically and mentally with each passing day, becomes possessive and jealous of anyone who looks at you in a way that only he is allowed to. Every night before going to bed, you have conversations about boys, hoping to hear the same response come from his lips: "Don't trust those guys, pip-squeak. You still don't get how they can be mean and shady." However, with all the strength he has left, he tries to ignore it all and pretend that it does not affect him, especially since it should not interfere with your romantic or sexual life... Oh, in a rather convenient way, he will interfere with that.

Caleb, who has a toned and defined body since he exercises a lot to maintain it and prepare for when he becomes a fighter pilot in Deepspace Aviation. This boy is huge (in every sense), looks like a fridge with a chest and back as solid as iron, and he always fears breaking you when you are in his arms of pure muscle. It is inevitable not to notice teenage girls from different grades drooling when he is exposing his defined torso while walking out of the boy's locker room with the other guys. Your friends often ask you for his number, and you do not understand why you are making a sour face at them while a strange feeling hits you.

Caleb, who is naturally very skilled at winning plush toys from the claw machine. He has left his entire collection for you, however, it is still likely to find a single cute and fuzzy stuffed animal in his room, comfortably sitting on the dresser next to his bed. He always thinks of you whenever he looks at it.

Caleb, who is fucking other girls while thinking of you. It is obvious, he is an 18-year-old teenager in the process of development, and it is not possible to confront testosterone because he needs to satisfy the urges that puberty presented to him. However, he cannot remove you, your scent, or your beautiful body from his mind, and even less can he touch you as he desires because he is afraid of breaking the bond you both formed in childhood. Thus, releasing this carnal desire while he is burying his cock in some pussy out there is all he can do or imagine.

Caleb, who never walks around the house without a shirt on because he would not want to make you uncomfortable, and It is not necessary for Grandma to correct him for such a lack of manners, since his well-being is what matters most to him. But, on a weekend morning when the ladies of the house were still in bed, Caleb didn’t mind not having to put on anything right after he took a shower. Coincidentally, you had woken up quite early and caught him nearly naked in the kitchen preparing your favorite meal, with the poor boy displaying a surprised expression when you harshly told him to cover the visible marks left by feminine nails on his back. He never imagined that you had cultivated a feeling like jealousy before beginning to act roughly with him for the rest of the week.

Caleb, who splashes water on you while you are washing the dishes, and it is hard to explain at what moment the scenario turned into a war. The scene repeats when you are enjoying the summer by the pool, and the atmosphere shifts when Caleb ceases to laugh and gazes at you with a different intention in his eyes. You observe the dark-haired boy approaching, unaware that he is gripping the edge of the pool to contain the desire to kiss you.

Caleb, who maintains a very healthy routine at home and school, where you can always find him doing push-ups on the floor or running on the grass of the football field. You are seated in the bleachers with the girls when he notices your presence from miles away, and the way he flashes the purest smile while waving in your direction leaves you feeling confusingly irritated at the moment you see your friends fanning themselves and sighing loudly in unison like bitches in heat. You will blame him for making you feel this way or create reasons for it, using your anger to write unflattering things about him in your facade account book. This silly guy is completely oblivious to these details, you are ignoring him so that he follows you down the hallway, questioning what might have happened. Heaven, he is playing your game and blaming himself too, until you relent upon noticing his face marked by puppy-dog eyes.

Caleb, who is such a respectful boy, walking down the hallway and noticing that you had forgotten to close the bathroom door while you are showering. He is simply closing it slowly, intending to prevent you from being startled or thinking that he is a pervert. Not that he is not.

Caleb, who begins his training as a pilot at Skyhaven, makes a promise to take you to the clouds as soon as he returned home during his military leave. It was a summer afternoon when he wrapped his pinky finger around yours, and the casual conversation about the planes he mastered made you sigh with shining eyes. After all, who could be better than him to make you fly in the sky? Besides his incredible piloting skills and placing your safety first, this man has the power to manipulate gravity. If you were ever flying over Linkon City and were about to fall to the ground, he would use his abilities to maintain control and balance until landing. This man would never let you fall in life.

Caleb, who is automatically attracted to you and it does not require much effort on your part unlike other women. It seems that he becomes more enchanted when you compliment the delicious flavor of the meals he prepares. It is always a new achievement when you are humming and squinting your eyes with his food in your mouth. It means he is feeding you well, a task of the day completed.

Caleb, who allows you to sleep in his bed, with him, on rainy days with intense thunderstorms. You fall asleep together, your head resting on his chest as he holds you tightly while raindrops patter against the window. If he has an obligation the next morning, you will find breakfast laid out on the sheets along with a note that has a good morning message filled with childish and silly drawings. But if he does not have any other engagements, you will wake up to a kiss on your forehead or a teasing pinch on your cheek. Even when Caleb is away, he will leave the door to his room open just so you can rest there whenever you wish. You would not mention it, but you often spend more time in his room than in your own. His scent is everywhere, and when your nose detects it, only then do you feel comfortable enough to be lulled into sleep.

Caleb, who practices combat moves with you whenever he is home after being away for an extended period. Despite having become a Hunter, your fighting skills still need further refinement. And seriously, he is an excellent teacher, it is no surprise that he received praise during his time as a class monitor in high school. This man is calm and highly experienced, he will teach you each movement correctly, and as a diligent tutor, he will explain countless times, regardless of how many times you stumble and fall onto him until you successfully land a hit. You can feel the tension in his triceps as they constrict around your neck in a rear naked choke. "One wrong move and your enemy could end your life just like that." His breath caresses your neck, and he remains in that position for a few seconds as he analyzes how your body is reacting pressed against his. The grip becomes weaker, your blood circulation stabilizing, and there is an indication in your reaction that your oxygen has been lost, even though he did not apply much pressure to your neck. "Someone here needs to step it up, or else you're not getting any of Caleb's decorated cookies!"

Caleb, who tries not to look when you are doing a squat exercise in front of him, feels his cheeks flush pink every time your knees bend, presenting an indecent view of you. Fortunately, this man is very composed and will act as if nothing has happened, hence, you will see Caleb turning his head to another corner while he coughs awkwardly. He condemns himself for having such thoughts about you, and motivated by this fact, he feels the need to avoid you, using this justification in his mind to hang out with his friends instead. He needs a distraction. Yet there you are, calling him with a sweet and pleading voice, hoping to get help with your homework or to fix the bathroom socket so you can use it. How can he say no?

Caleb, who has no idea how he has made you feel attracted to him, your childhood friend, as you have labeled him. He has at least noticed how you hold your gaze on his violet eyes for a bit longer, the way your chest rises when your breathing becomes frantic, how your voice suddenly trembles, or how your body responds when he is too close. This charming individual is putting you in the palm of his hand; he does not tire of teasing you by pressing you against the refrigerator when he finds you wandering the kitchen late at night, solitary and restless, nibbling on something. Sometimes, it is not even intentional, you know, it is simply the seductive nature that Caleb possesses.

✈✈✈

The smell of gasoline mixed with grease is overwhelming and nearly clogs your nose as soon as you set foot in the large garage at home, the reason for the odor justified upon finding Caleb sitting in one of the old armchairs, deeply focused on fixing what appeared to be a car part. The radio is active on the Linkon City FM station, the device accompanying several tools scattered on the table. This place has been transformed into the man's personal space, as more airplane and car-related items are found on the shelves. Grandma and you now refer to it as Caleb's garage.

"Aren't you going to join us at the table for lunch?" Your voice is demanding as you lean half of your body against the doorframe, arms crossed while questioning the man, who does not look at you. His car is parked on the other side of the area, and you notice that the hood is open.

"Just give me a few more minutes and I'll finish up here." He finally responds to you, still immersed in the work that his hands are performing. The old white tank top that clings to his torso bears dark stains that reveal the product used, and your eyes complete their inspection of the mess displayed on Caleb's pants and across the skin of his arms.

"Busy playing with your toys, huh?" Feeling curious, you approach the Lamborghini to see what is demanding so much of the man's attention. A smile adorns his lips, and you hear a low laugh resonating in the Caleb's throat. He leans forward, rifling through the box on the floor filled with equipment. 

"Aaand... clean girls can’t come in here." Caleb studies you from head to toe for a moment, the tease playing on his lips with a smile, which broadens when he sees you roll your eyes.

"Before I leave, I'm telling you not to touch me with that dirty hand, Caleb." Your teasing retorts against him. "Go take a shower before sitting at the table, 'kay?"

"C'omon. My hand isn't even dirty, bossy brat." The tip of his boot hits the floor, driven by the beat of the music that starts playing from the device. He is moving the toolbox aside after grabbing what he wanted. "I'm gonna do a test and jump on your bed to stain your pretty white sheets."

"Pfft! You." One of your fingers is pointing towards his serene smile, which conceals all the little mischiefs. You watch him twirl a heavy object between his fingers, disregarding how you have placed your hands on your hips while gazing deeply at him.

"Stay away from the sharp tools, I'm telling you too for the twentieth time this week." He makes it very clear to you, despite not giving a firm look to affirm his words. Caleb do not want to witness the scene of you slipping in the puddle of gasoline that had formed on the floor and hitting your head against one of the saws and axes attached to the wall.

And, oh, you are doing everything except listening to him. That is why he feels you are about to do something reckless as your hand approaches the sharp edge of the object. Before the tip of your finger fully touched it, an unnatural force exerted itself upon your palm, pushing it away. You shot a piercing glance at the man seated, intending for it to penetrate him like the blade you were willing to touch.

"You're so stubborn." Caleb is staring at you, remarkably calm, the fringe of his hair falling over his eyes like a waterfall. His lips are curved in frustration as he holds an open hand in the air. His Evol is still controlling you, the vibration of that power surrounding your skin due to gravity.

"Why are you like this?! I can totally resonate with that!"

"Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet, pip-squeak." You can hear the sound of his sigh, and he is prepared to dismiss any complaints you may have. "I'm just protecting you from your own innocence. It's for your own good."

"I don't need your protection." The conviction carries your voice like a powerful weapon. And you are aiming it at him, more than ever as that manipulative pressure finally releases from your hand. Caleb was gentle in using just a little strength, with no intention of hurting you.

"You don't need it?" The way Caleb has spoken so sarcastically yet with a certain conviction has left you immobilized in place, and he was no longer using his power over you. There is a feeling of rage consuming you as you clench your fists and grind your teeth at finding him so perplexed by your behavior.

"Yeah, I'm done." Your breath quickens as you take rapid, unexpected steps toward the man. He watches your movements intently until you push his shoulders, and his back is hitting the upholstery. Strands of hair on Caleb's forehead are ruffled by the impact, and his face bears a tightly clenched jaw as he watches, frozen, while you ascend onto the chair and rest your knees on either side of his thighs.

You need not check to know that your clothing has been ruined by a bit of grease. However, the thought quickly disappears when you are approached by Caleb's fixed gaze, the overhead perspective providing a perfect angle to see the top of his chest escaping from his tank top. The shiny necklace you gave him glistens in contrast to the light, and your attempt to divert your gaze toward it proves futile.

"I don't need you treating me like a kid. Not anyone." Your mouth commands your attitude, and the dark-haired man follows each of its movements. You appear too serious, which influences his features as he raises his chin in a sign of dominance. "You idiot."

"Watch you mouth." He is reprimanding you, his tone of voice shifting to a deeper harmony. His occupied hand releases the metal piece into the air, and it makes a violent noise when it hits the ground. Suddenly, you notice his eyes darken as he closely scrutinizes your reaction, and now his fingers are pressing against your wrists. You cannot just sit on him like that, in that position, like it's no big deal. "Don't you know how to treat your elders right anymore, brat?"

"Stop!" You spit, attempting not to show your vulnerable side whenever you are around him. "Is that all I mean to you, yeah? Just a helpless brat. "For a moment, your heart aches with guilt for behaving insensitively while you find so much love in his warm gaze directed at you. This is further compounded by a small streak of black grease on his cheek, which makes him even more endearing.

"Hey silly girl, what are you talking about?" A laugh escapes his lips, and you are unsure if it was meant to sound innocent or somewhat foolish coming from him. However, as a habit, this man tries to lighten the mood of the situation, even when it leaves you feeling awkward. He wonders why on earth you have been so rude to him lately. He understands this whole independence thing you are going through, but he is beginning to lose the patience that has remained intact for years. After all, he has always done everything for you, indulging you with good things and ensuring your protection, yet you repay him in this manner.

"You don’t know?!" The walls tremble as you laugh ironically, the closeness of your faces does not intimidate him. "I hate... how you still see me as your little girl, and not as a woman." You hiss when you realize that you spoke those words too loudly, and you are failing to remove his hands from your skin, which are beginning to burn your very being.

"What?!" He cannot help but shake his head, incredulous at your words. Your breathless breaths are intertwined in the space, which suddenly becomes suffocating.

You look so beautiful sitting on his lap, that he thinks he could get used to the view. Caleb is clenching his fist tightly against the seat, trying to prevent himself from touching the accessible and more sinful areas of your body on top of him.

"Do you want me to show you how I can see you as a woman?"

There is a silence enveloping you and him, but the beat of the music becomes increasingly captivating in the background. You are still recovering from the weight of the double entendre posed to you. A tension saturates the air in more palpable forms, Caleb's gaze appearing indecisive between your enticing lips and the way your beautiful tits move as your breathing grows irregular. The manner in which his violet eyes encompass your entire body is so alluring, and you find yourself questioning why you had not noticed this much earlier.

"Yes." The whisper slips from your lips almost like a secret, yet you show no fear of proving the consequences of your bold action. You are venturing into uncharted territory, tampering with danger. The boy growls sensually in response, a primal sound that reveals how much he desires you as a woman.

He believes he can no longer endure hiding all these feelings any longer, and this man swears by his soul that if it were not for his self-control, he would throw you beneath him into that old armchair and position you to make love to him. He would not release your wrists while possessing you as his own. Caleb imagines how he would start to move his hips in a slow and tender way, just as a princess like you deserves, but then he would take you with such brutality, and you would accept him, his size, so perfectly inside you. The noise of the slaps on your ass and the sounds of wet sex would be louder than the music playing in the room. And he would keep repeatedly going in and out even if Grandma upstairs was disturbed by the depraved noises coming from your mouth. This man would make you scream in that garage until the sun sets, depending on your cardio endurance. It is okay, he has been letting you scream all the time with him lately, so it is only fair to leave you voiceless.

"Please." Your pleas are persistent, the throbbing pain in the center of your legs making your hips roll almost automatically and slowly on his groin. And it was possible to watch Caleb flying to the sky and seeing stars while he releases your wrists to grip your waist, commanding you to stop these movements. Because his big cock is hard right under you, Jesus. He would go crazy in this place and would take you to sin with him, a single slip could change everything. What would you think of him after this fateful decision? Your sweet purity going down the drain like this...

Caleb is thinking about how you are still not ready, watching you gazing innocently at him, unaware of the many desires and darker thoughts hidden within those purple orbs. You would not be able to handle all the things he wishes to do with you. Therefore, all he does at this moment is close his eyes tightly and take a deep breath in unison.

"No." His raspy tone conveys much about his arduous battle against these desires thus far. Your eyes instinctively close when his lips draw near, you emit a soft moan as you feel them brush against yours. The man is aware that once he begins to kiss you, he would be unable to stop. It is a torment to realize that you are unprepared to be wholly his, in body and soul. He requires you to have conviction in your actions before engaging in any recklessness, as both of you must be ready for that.

Then the place becomes cold as he crawls out of the seat, silently distancing himself from you while wearing a sad countenance. His eyes convey loneliness and melancholy, even as he closes the door behind him. You notice that your skin has been marked by the grease and his hands, it may take some time for you to forget the feeling of them on your body.

[channieskies]

L O S E R [HJS]

♫ Pairing: Han Jisung × Reader [F] ♫ Summary: His father disapproves of his life choices, and it subsequently causes a rift between the two of them. Jisung only has one person he feels he can rely on, his best friend. With hopes of becoming one of the biggest rockstars that ever lived, he embarks on a journey to fulfill his life dreams. Will he make his dreams come true with his friend by his side, or will he even sacrifice friendship to live out his fantasy's? ♪ WC: 19.7k [READING TIME: 40-60 MINS] ♪ AU: Highschool, Rockstar ♪ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff (adjacent), Friends to (??) ♪ Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society ♫ A.N: I started writing this over a year ago (Nov 2023) and I've been writing on it little by little since then. When the "Hold My Hand" mv came out, I got burst of inspiration I needed to finish this. I took a while to finish, but it's here. This has not been proofread. Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @therhythmafterthesummer thanks for rooting for me with this one. I don't think I could have finished it without your encouragement. Dividers by @saradika-graphics ♫ Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction. ♫ Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Unprotected sex (Be safe and wrap it up. This is fiction, a controlled narrative. I make the rules. Life isn't that simple, so be safe), creampie (semi), cum shot, slight degradation (male receiving), slight femdom/sub (male) dynamics, choking, cum play, cum eating, spiting, hair pulling (male receiving). Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

Loser, 외톨이, 센 척하는 겁쟁이 못된 양아치, 거울 속의 넌 Just a loser, 외톨이, 상처뿐인 머저리 더러운 쓰레기, 거울 속의 난, I'm a...

The words resounded in the back of Jisung's mind as he continued to feel the kicks and punches from his classmates. See, with him, you either liked him or you didn't. Sadly, there didn't seem to be an in-between. There was no indifference and there didn't seem to be many that liked him, either. He had a handful of acquaintances, but only one good, true friend. She was the light of his life, that and music. In times like this, when he was beaten and battered, cast out, and torn down by the world, he knew that if he just held on, she'd be there. 

There to comfort him, there to lift him up, there to hold his hand and tell him that it gets better. That's what he had to hold on to, “it gets better.” The promise of that alone gave him enough hope that he'd get through these tumultuous teenage years and one day look back at this and consider it a learning experience. Just something he could mark off as a growth exercise. At least that's what he hoped. He hoped to turn all the shity life struggles into art. His words, his life, his voice. He refused to be a loser.

Jisung wanted nothing more in life than to play his music for the people who appreciated it. For the most part that meant that he was playing it for a crowd of one, you. But he didn’t mind if the venue wasn’t fancy, or if it was just one person taking in the songs that he performed. Just the look of pure joy on your face from listening to his voice, gave him enough hope that one day he could do this on a larger scale. He just hoped that you would be one of the smiling faces when he looked out at the crowd.

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Prestige, influence, wealth. Was that really something worth betting your life and sanity on? According to his parents it was absolutely worth it. Those things were the reason the Han's were where they were in life and they would bite their tongues and die before ever going back to being poor and worthless. At least that's how his father saw things. “Jisung, you have to listen to your father. All he wants is for you to have a good life. Not waste it away-”

“Id waste away staying here. Mom…” He stopped throwing things in his bag to hold his mothers hands, to look her in the eyes. He wanted her, if no one else in this house, to understand why he had to leave. It wasn't about the constant fights with his father, or even the fact that he just couldn’t and probably would never live up to what his older brother had become. He wasn’t built for the life that his parents had set up for him. It physically pained him to even think of himself trapped in the box of boring, yet successful, that his parents wanted to fit him into.

No, he just felt unfulfilled, dead inside. He was slowly rotting away with every breath he took under the rule of his fathers thumb. “I can't let him dictate what should and should not make me happy. Music is everything to me, you know this. So please, just let me go. You know I can't survive here.” He dropped his head, looking at the floor, “He'll kill everything about me.. until there is no use in being alive.” He had made up his mind. Despite the comfort that being home provided him, he’d rather take his chances out on the streets than endure one more moment trapped inside of this amenity filled mansion.

His mother gasped. Just the thought of her baby not being on this earth anymore, crushed her. She pulled her son into a hug for what might be the last time. “There is money in my purse, take that with you. Okay?” She grabbed his face, taking in her son's features. She caressed his chubby cheeks and placed kisses on both. “I love you. Forever and always.” The front door slammed downstairs, alerting them to his father's arrival. The panic set in on both his and his mothers faces.

Oftentimes Mr. Han seemed like he hated Jisung, his own son, just like he hated people who weren't in the same social economic class as him. They had no drive or ambition according to him, no will to make their life better, to be better. As if people didn’t fall on hard times, or suffer from any mental illnesses, making it hard for them to keep a job. He was a hypocrite. Jisung’s grandfather didn’t keep a steady job for years, and the jobs he had were very low income. He provided for his family as best he could, but apparently people like that were scum to Jisung's father. Being poor and struggling were things that his father had long left behind. Along with things like passion, empathy, and even love.

“HAN JI SUNG! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT.” Jisung's heart quickened with the sound of his fathers angry, booming voice. His anxiety was starting to kick in, his breathing picked up, just as his extremities started to lightly shake. He had to have heard about Jisung's outburst in school today, which resulted in the cops being called to his prestigious catholic high school. With his fathers position in the Mayors office, of course this news made it to him. The police probably went and told him the news themselves. This wasn't going to be good. 

“Go out the back, I'll distract him.” She kissed his forehead and headed down the stairs, swiftly. Jisung stuffed all the clothes he could into his duffle, and started out the door, just to stop in his tracks. Next to his bed was a picture of him and his best friend. The one person who could get him through anything. From breakups and heartbreak to bouts of depression, they had been through almost everything together. He grabbed the frame and carefully stuffed it into the bag. 

“I know he's here! Move out my way woman!” He pushed past his wife, physically moving the small woman out of his way. Jisung could hear his fathers heavy footsteps as he made his way up the grand staircase in the foyer. Panic began to flow through the young boy's body. Making sure the coast was clear, he headed out into the hall from his room. The nearest exit of sorts was way at the end of the hall, two whole bedrooms and a bathroom away from his little corner room upstairs. 

He wasn’t much of a runner, even if he was considered to be quick, but he put all of the techniques he’d learned in physical education to work, sprinting down the hall. He made it to his brother's old room and out onto the balcony. Even though he was deathly afraid of heights, this was his only option, if he wanted to escape. It was fight or flight, and he was sure if he tried to fight his dad he’d die. His dad was filled with rage at the current moment and that did not bode well for Jisung. All he could see over the edge was the garden that bordered the pool. 

His mothers pretty array of hibiscus flowers and the cherry blossom tree that sat not far from the window, well manicured and perfect, just like everything else in the Han family’s life. He could hear his father nearing closer, his booming voice filling the large halls and bouncing off the walls, even with the constant pitter patter of his fast beating heart. It was now or never. He closed his eyes, the voice of his best-friend rang through his head, “You can do anything you put your mind to, Ji.” It was like her words gave him wings. That was all the reassurance he needed. 

Just as his father burst through the door to his brother's room, Jisung took the leap. He landed on the bushes below with a loud thud. His father's head peaked over the balcony. “You better stay right where you are, young man.” There was a small tinting of something else besides anger and disdain on his fathers face. 

But Jisung didn’t have the time to try and decipher it as his father made his way back into his brother’s room. No, if he didn’t want to face whatever was coming his way via his fathers slightly justified anger, he needed to go. Jisung hurried to his feet, running out the back gate of their sprawling mansion grounds, never to look back again. 

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“Shit…” He'd been roaming for hours now. The afternoon had turned into evening. The beautiful blue tinted sky shifted into pinks and purples and now it was just pitch black. He had nowhere to go. His feet hurt, his stomach hadn’t stopped grumbling since he got a few miles away from home, and he was terribly tired. Then there also was the fact that he had stupidly left the money his mother wanted him to have, right where she told him it was. He was broke and homeless. Not the best combination at the young age of eighteen. But most had survived worse. At least that's what that weird side of youtube and tik tok said. He was sure he would make it too. At least that's what he hoped.

He walked aimlessly until the streets started to look familiar. The houses were smaller than the ones in his- well his parents neighborhood, but that didn’t make them small. The mini mansions had long curving driveways and tall fences to keep the riff raff out. Well, guess you could say he was the riff raff now. 

He was a delinquent with an extensive record. Trespassing, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, failure to disperse, affray, unlawful assembly, and resisting arrest, the last two were tacked on today. The other charges had been adding up since his fifteenth birthday. The only reason he was a free man was the simple fact that he was a Han. He knew that, and it ate away at his core.

Well manicured lawns with expensive cars in the park. This was your side of town. Your family was quite well off as well, just in a different way. Building on the wealth that your maternal grandfather had built for your family. Your parents weren’t as power thirsty as his father was. But that wasn’t saying that they didn’t take your future success in life very seriously. They did. Your schedule was often packed to the brim with extracurriculars and volunteering, just to make sure that your high school resume made it easier for you to get into a good university.

He recognized your street name and he took off in a sprint. Trying to hurry his way to your house. He needed to see you. He needed reassurance for you that he did the right thing by running away. Because without your words of encouragement, he doubted he’d be able to survive the night, let alone live like this. He’d just have to tuck his tail between his legs and go back home to receive whatever punishment his father deemed appropriate. He had nearly a block to go when the familiar sound of sirens and the look of security lights stopped him in his tracks. “Where are you headed to, son?” Jisung sighed. He didn’t need this right now.

“My friend lives on the next block.” 

The guard got out of his car and approached Jisung, an uncertain expression on his face. He didn’t even attempt to hide it. The round and nearly bald, older man looked Jisung up and down, eyes doubtful of his story. “Right, and what is this friend's name?” The man pulled out an iPad with a list of residents in this large subdivision. 

“Y/l/n, Y/n. She lives with her parents…” He sighed, “Dr. And Mr.'s Y/l/n.” Jisung peered over the tablet to see if he could find you, only to find the guard way too immersed in a game of candy crush. “Seriously?” 

The security guard cleared his throat and tapped out of his games screen. “What was the name again?” with an exasperated sigh, Jisung told him your information again. He quickly contacted them, stepping away from Jisung to talk. 

“Yes, good evening. This is Sheldon with Rutherglen Security. I was out on patrol this evening when I spotted a young man out on a run with a duffle bag. When I stopped him he informed me he was trying to go see the daughter of this residence..- ah, his name?” He looked back at Jisung who was impatiently tapping his fingers on his jeans as he stood in the middle of the road, bag strapped across his chest. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The man nodded and looked away again.

“Jason? Han Jason- Oh okay. I'll make sure to drop him off expeditiously.” He hung up and turned to the boy again. “I guess your story adds up. Get in. I'll drop you off.” He said nothing more and made his way around the tiny smart car, getting in. Jisung eyed the vehicle apprehensively. The window slowly rolled down, “On with it! I don't have all night.” 

The ride was short, he was nearly a block away when he was stopped. The gates to the driveway opened, revealing the lit up rounded pathway that led to the cream colored, French style home with black accents. It was traditional enough not to stick out, but still had a bit of modern flare to it. Truthfully, Jisung always thought your parents were like their house. Vocal, but both vocal enough to rock the boat. 

Some of their opinions didn’t line up with the traditional values of the overall community of Rutherglen, and he admired that. The security guard parked right in front of the house. Jisung could see someone jogging down the staircase inside. The lights in the house lit up with motion, so it made sense to him. The wooden door swung open to reveal a very winded girl, dressed in a band tee and bicycle shorts. 

“Haven't you gotten yourself in enough trouble today?” You rushed out before he could even unbuckle his seat and open the door. “Thank you so much…” Your eyes met the security guards as you leaned into the open window.

“Sheldon.” The security guard nodded.

“Sheldon. Thank you so much.” You opened the door for your friend only for Sheldon to speak up again.

“Excuse me, but are your parents home? I need to go over this with them.” You ushered Jisung out of the car and closed the door, leaning on it as you peeked your head in once again.

“My father is away at a medical conference and my mother is in the Maldives on vacation after major surgery, neither would like to be disturbed. But if you want to hear what my dad sounds like when he's angry, you can give him a ring.” Your voice sounded so sweet, but threatening at the same time. Like honey with the sting of a ghost pepper.

“Ah- no, that's fine. I'll just send them a write up. Have a good night.” He cranked the car back up. “And son, try to stay off the streets at night. You looked like you were up to no good.” 

Before Jisung could answer you interjected, “He will, no worries. Have a beautiful night, Sheldon. Stay safe out there.” With nothing left to say, you pulled your friend into your house and up the stairs to your room. As if the two of you weren't alone, you closed the door. “What they hell, Ji? Your mom called me worried sick, saying you'd gone off and run away. What the hell?” You hissed. You paced back and forth, mind racing.

He sighed, letting the bag he had bared the weight of for just a few hours, fall from him. He was tired and it hadn't even been a day yet. “I.. I couldn't take it anymore. I just knew what he was going to say. What he was going to tell me. How he was going to lay into me for not being good enough. How disappointed he was. How much he wished I could be more like my brother. I just… I couldn't deal with it anymore. He already thinks I'm a failure for not making the grades my brother made. But now I'm even more of a failure.” He plopped onto your fluffy purple bean bag that was situated in your reading nook. 

“Music is to be listened to, not pursued, according to him. I shouldn't entertain these ludicrous fantasies. You know where he took me the other day? To the unhoused encampment near the city center. He told me I'd end up there if I didn't listen to him and do as I was told.” He looked dejected and you wanted to do nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything will be alright. “I guess I just… beat him to the punch.” You sighed, your heart broke for him. He didn't deserve to be treated like that, no one did, really. But especially not Jisung.

“You aren't unhoused, just yet. Tomorrow, I'll skip school and we can look around to find some place to rest your head. Until my parents get back, you can stay here with me. I could use the company.” You could feel a bit of the burden lift off his shoulders and for the first time in a very long time, you saw him smile. He needed this pep talk more than you knew. It made his heart feel a little bit lighter knowing he wouldn’t be navigating this big change in his life without you.

“You know, I don't know what I'd do without you.” He stood unexpectedly and crossed the room to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “You're the best.” You could feel he meant it as he melted into you. He really didn't know what he would do without you. It sounded cliche, but you were literally the wind beneath his wings, his better half. Without you there was no him. He would have come crashing down to earth long ago if it wasn't for you. Your encouraging words always kept him uplifted. Your support always made him strive to be the best at whatever it was he was trying to pursue this week. You were his everything. 

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The next morning you woke up as early as you would for school. You were the top of your class, in line to be valedictorian. They might miss you today, but that didn’t matter as long as you made sure that your best friend was taken care of. Jisung had been there through the worst years of your life. He was quite literally your only friend. The only one who cared enough to stick around when it seemed that everyone in the world turned their back on you, just because the glitter of popularity seemed too tempting to say no to. 

In your freshman year of school your long time best friend Michelle, someone you'd known since babyhood, decided that her popularity over summer break wasn't worth losing. She'd hit puberty and filled out, so that made her popular with older boys. She couldn't take being seen with a “flat chested loser,” like yourself. She acted as though you hadn’t been friends all your lives. She started ignoring you, and the kicker, started rumors that you were doing sexual favors for the grades you were receiving. She knew better, you'd tutored her the summer before, just to make sure she'd have an easy transition into high school. Maybe you should have let her flounder.

You met Jisung during your summer vacation that same year. It was fate, really. You found out he'd moved around a lot before his family decided to settle in Rutherglen. His father had political aspirations, and this would be the perfect place to put down roots and start the career he always wanted. The way he described his folks almost sounded like how yours were. Father with big aspirations to be something better than what his father was. Mother who cares, but will ultimately side with the father. Plus you both had siblings. His older brother that was amounting to big things in life and your younger brother, two years your junior, who was the love of your mothers life. 

You bonded on your love of anime and rock music. Even your views of the world seemed to align. You spent every waking hour with that boy. You exchanged numbers and the rest was history. You'd been inseparable since. So giving up a few hours or days to help your one and only best friend, no matter the circumstances, was absolutely necessary. 

The boy slept like a log. But you understood, he had a hell of a day the day before. He got arrested for staging a protest on campus grounds for LGBTIQ+ rights, which wasn’t the smartest move to make on the campus of an ultra conservative Christian school. His stances went against the school's clear directive, that gay relationships were blasphemous and against all of their beliefs. And though you agree with him, that love is love and should be accepted as such. You knew it would ruffle too many feathers, especially if he didn’t go about it the right way. 

The protest was a mess. He had only managed to get a few students on his side, and they mostly backed out right before the protest was set to begin. The signs the both of you stayed up to make were torn by the kids that liked to ridicule you and bully Jisung. Then when asked by the headmaster to disassemble, Ji stood ten toes down and even cuffed himself to the door that led from the courtyard and into the school. That's how the cops were called. Then he ran away from home. On top of all of that, he almost got detained on his way to your house. 

He deserved to sleep as hard and as long as he wanted. But time was of the essence and him finding at least a roof was imminent. Jisung sounded like a vacuum cleaner as he snored. His mouth was wide open. One leg was under your mattress, how it got there you didn't know and you certainly weren't going to ask. The blanket was wrapped around him like a cocoon and both his hands were stretched above his head like he was superman.

You'd say he looked like a boy with no problems, that was if you didn't know any better. He had plenty of problems. Ones that needed to be handled immediately, you had a “parents are coming home any day now" , type of deadline. You shook him, “Ji, wake up.” He groaned, body flailing a bit. You sighed heavily. His mother told you once that the dead would wake up before she would be able to wake up Jisung in the morning. You could see why she said that now.

“Five more minutes, please?” He pouted in his sleep. The morning sun in its dusty blue haze was starting to peek through the curtains, you needed all the daylight you could afford. 

“No. Get up!” You smacked his chest right over his nipple and he jolted up with a yelp, hitting his head on the ledge of your nightstand. He knocked your lamp over, making it fall to the ground with a hard thud.

“Ow! Why, Y/n?” His pout deepened as he rubbed his head. He looked at you like you’d told him you no longer wanted to be friends. Maybe it was part of his sadness from yesterday that was seeping into the look he was giving you. You didn’t know, but you also didn’t like it. You never wanted him to be sad. To you, he deserved nothing but unadulterated joy. You thought he looked the most handsome when he smiled and nothing else should ever be painted across his lips.

His other hand moved to the spot you smacked, rubbing it while still rubbing the spot on his head. You snorted as you took in the sight, but quickly covered it with concern, seeing that he really was in pain. “I- I'm sorry Ji, I didn't mean to startle you. I just need you up so we can get started. Let me see, yeah?” You moved his hand and inspected the area that had hit your side table. You couldn't see any significant damage past his hair. You kissed the general area. “There. All better?” 

His face heated up, immediately. His thoughts rushed to anything impure he could think of at the moment. He couldn’t help that he was touched starved. He hadn’t had any action since his ex-boyfriend, Minho, graduated over a year ago. Plus, he hadn’t quite come to terms with his new found -okay, maybe they weren’t new and he’s loved you since he first met you,- feelings. Jisung kept his head turned away from you, afraid you'd see the blush that had tinted his cheeks.

“Mhm.” He nodded. Keeping his response simple. He didn’t want you to see his face and use that big brain of yours to figure out just what thoughts plagued his mind about you.

“Well come on, let's get dressed and eat so we can find you some place to stay for a while.” 

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Your mother had been a real estate agent for the past twenty years. She was one of the highest grossing real estate agents in the state. Her vacant properties -which she had plenty of- were what you were going to start with. You'd have to pay extra careful attention to what ones hadn't been looked at in a while and make sure to keep whichever one you settled on that way. “What about that one?” Jisung pointed to a listing of a single family home that was a town over.

“Neighbors would notice. You wouldn't want to be arrested for squatting. I’m sure your dad would love that.” You kept scrolling as he looked over your shoulder, leaning on his hand that was on your arm rests. “It needs to be some place close enough to where I could get to you in case of emergencies, but far enough away from others so they won’t be suspicious.” You chewed on your lip. 

Jisung tried to keep his eyes to himself, but something about the way you looked when you were in full concentration always made his heart flutter. He sighed wistfully. Before all of this happened, he had plans to ask you to be his date to prom. He hoped that if the night turned out well, that he would ask you to be his girlfriend. But he went and fucked things up. His dad did always say he was a good for nothing fuck up. Maybe there was a bit of harsh truth in his words.

“Oh just be honest with yourself, you'd miss me too much if I went too far away.” He chuckled, clearing out his dark thoughts with a joke. Little did he know, he was right. In the four years you'd gotten to spend time with him, even vacations away from each other seemed like torture. Your mother commented once that she'd,

‘Never seen two people who weren't in love, be so attached at the hip. You can’t find one without the other.’ You supposed she was right. A bond like the one you and Jisung had was rare. You considered him your soulmate, your person. So, no, you didn't want him to be too far away. You honestly didn't think you'd be able to handle that. It’s also a part of the reason you were afraid to open any of the letters you’d received from prospective universities. You wanted to stay close to home, but your parents insisted you leave the state, to do and see more. You thought you’d seen enough through traveling and would be just fine close to home and Jisung.

“Don't flatter yourself.” You rolled your eyes to sell the act you were putting on. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.” 

He scoffed, “Your delusions are getting worse each day. You do realize you're like zero for three at this point, right? I got arrested, expelled, and I'm homeless, and that's all from one day!” You rolled your eyes so hard it was surprising they didn't just roll out of your head.

“How is that my fault? Before the protest I told you to talk to the headmaster to get permission or at least someone on faculty to let them know, but you didn't. You could have talked to the civics teacher, I'm sure she would have happily let us protest. Then when asked to disband, you laid into things harder as if the lack of permission wasn't bad enough. It was for a good cause, yes, but you have to know your limits. You cuffed yourself to the door, Jisung. Like, Seriously?! Then you resisted arrest… I have no words to express how stupid that was. So it's no wonder you got expelled, you broke multiple school rules and managed to get arrested, again.” 

You shook your head. You weren’t disappointed in him, you’d leave that to his father. But you did feel he could have gone about things a little differently. “You didn't even bother telling me that you were running away. We could have planned for this. I could have done something to help before you packed your bags. Least you could have done is let me pick you up.” His arms moved from the arm rest to wrap around you. 

He knew he had you worried, just by the way your eyes looked when you came outside. But his mind was in disarray last night. As soon as he walked in parents house yesterday afternoon he could feel all of what was going to come down on him when his father came home. It was like his mind's eye was open and he could see the immediate future. Said future was telling him he needed to run. That he needed to get out of there before his life ended in that stupid house.

“You can be so annoyingly right sometimes. But it wouldn't be very punk of me if I took the easy way out. Plus, arrest records give me street cred.” You sighed heavily and pushed him away. You couldn’t deal with his strange ideologies right now, you were trying to prevent him from being a common, unhoused, delinquent.

“You're an Idiot.” You mumbled under your breath. You didn't really mean it though. Yes, Jisung made brash, spur of the moment decisions. Yes, they resulted in him being in trouble more often than not. But, Jisung was far from an idiot. Really, he bordered the lines of being a genius. At least to you. He was honestly one of the most sincere and compassionate people you'd ever met. Plus his talent for writing, music, drawing, hell anything he put his mind to creatively, was unmatched. Just don't ask him to play sports. Now, that's when he seemed like an idiot.

“This is it!! Ji, look!” You pointed to the screen, shaking the monitor just from the force. 

“Is that… a van?” You could hear the disgust in his voice, you didn’t even have to look at his face to know his feelings. “You want me to… live in a van?” He grabbed the mouse, scrolling down the page. “There has got to be something… better… right?” It seemed like that was the last property with an actual structure on it, everything else was just land or warehouses. 

“Would you rather a tarp and a cardboard box? Because that might be your only other option.” You quickly pointed out, taking the mouse back from him. “I’m sure one of these vacant warehouses can house you. That is, if you are willing to share your space with roaches, rats, and other creepy crawlies.” He flailed at your words, throwing a small tantrum. 

“Why~ Y/n? Can't I just… stay in your basement or attic or something?” He flopped on your mom's office sofa, still kicking around.

“Because, if my father finds you, He’ll end your life and you know it.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. Your father tolerated him, he always had. He understood that the two of you were friends, but if anything other than friendship happened to spark, he’d flip. He was the type of man that thought his daughter should “preserve her innocence until marriage.” So, that meant he was constantly breathing down your throat about promiscuity and how you should wait. 

That boys, especially ones like Jisung, were not worth your time. He had even had ideal suitors lined up for you to meet during your eighteenth birthday. Someone from a good home with a promising future. Not a homeless dreamer that got expelled from school and ran away from home. To your father, the man for you could never be Jisung, and he had made that known to the both of you in one way or another.

“And he knows exactly what to give me to kill me too. He probably would donate my body to the med school too, just for good measure.” Jisung shuddered at the thought. “Damn it, I hate when you're right.” Your father petrified him. You didn't know this, and he planned on never telling you that your father threatened him the first time they met. Not the first time you introduced them, but the first time they met at the resort. 

Your father had followed you, to make sure you weren't up to anything questionable with the boy you grew so fond of so quickly. He observed from afar, until Jisung got up to use the bathroom. The man towered over the boy, his imposing figure casting a large shadow over him.

“Listen here. That girl that you're chatting up, that's my baby. And as my baby, she gets the benefit of the doubt, you on the other hand, do not. If you're thinking about having sex with my daughter, think twice.” He leaned in, getting down to Jisung's level. 

“I have friends in high and low places. If I wanted to make you disappear, all it would take is a snap of my fingers and poof, you're gone. If you lay a hand on my baby, I'll make sure that's the last time you touch anything with it at all.” It seemed that with every word he spoke he backed him further and further towards the wall, until his back finally hit it. “Keep your hands and your dick to yourself. Understand me?” Jisung nodded slowly, afraid any other action would piss your dad off. “Good.” He patted the boy's shoulder. “Now, hurry up and get back to her. You don't want to keep her waiting for too long, now do you?” Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe until your father disappeared from his vision. He slid to the ground once the man was gone. That was the day he was glad he had a strong bladder.

So, there was no way in hell he'd be caught here. He didn't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, rotting or worse, he had dreams to fulfill. “Let me see if the lights and water are in my mom's name for this property…” You murmured under your breath. “She doesn't check when small amounts come out of her account. So, as long as you keep your usage low, you should be fine there.” Jisung sat up to look at you, now that his little tantrum was finally over.

All of his thoughts about your father had ceased. Now all he could think about was his fear of losing you. To wake up and not be able to hear your voice, or see your face. How could he survive the wild without you? “Will you come visit me?” You stopped clicking around once you heard the sadness in his voice. You quickly turned around in the office chair to face him. 

“Why would you ask a stupid question like that? You know I will. You living in a weird van can't keep me away. Even if it looks like you’d kidnap children in it.” He laughed at that, your joke lifting his spirits a little. “Now, if you were living in a cardboard box, you might not see me as much.” He kissed his teeth this time, only for you to laugh.

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“How much further is it?” Jisung asked, trailing behind you. You had to ditch the car, the trail was too narrow and overgrown for you to drive it. He hated walking long distances almost as much as he hated running. He was one of the few people who failed physical education, much to the coach's chagrin. They had stated previously that he had the potential to be a great track star. Yeah, that wasn’t remotely the kind of star he wanted to be.

“I think it's just up ahead, there is supposed to be a clearing…” Jisung had his bag and the guitar he had at your house for safekeeping. The one he had at home had been tossed out onto the drive from a second story window. You had a boatload of cleaning supplies, including a mop, bucket, and broom. This place had been abandoned for over a year and a half now, it had to be gross on the inside. 

You could hear him sputtering behind you as he swatted away bugs. “There was no way you could have survived on the outside.” You mumbled, shaking your head. If you were honest, both of you were spoiled little rich kids. Neither of you could survive, especially not without the other. “There!” You couldn't calm the excitement you felt as you saw the silhouette of the van through the trees.

“Fina-fucking-ly.” Jisung huffed, ready to at least take a seat and rehydrate himself. But you had other plans. You opened the van door, the smell of hot air whooshed past you. The pocket door revealed the small kitchen. A sink, floor to ceiling pantry and a counter with a hotplate on top and a mini fridge underneath. You climbed in first.

“This isn't as bad as I thought it would be. At least you have the basic amenities.” You nodded, crawling around on your knees, unaware that Jisung was still standing outside. Apprehension had started creeping its way into Jisung’s subconscious. All the what if's seemingly flying at him all at once. 

“What if you fail? Do you really think she’ll remain friends with a loser that is also a failure?” “What happens when you are here in the dark by yourself?” “What if no one likes your music?” “What if she finds someone else that makes her happier than you do?” “What happens when one of those picks that her father likes sweeps her off her feet? What happens to you then?”

“I don't think I can do this.” He turned on his heels, ready to head back to the car. 

“Ji, wait!” You quickly exited the van to give chase, he had barely made it back to the tree line before you stopped him. His face was red, both from the heat of walking and also from him trying his best to hold back his tears. Maybe he jumped the gun running away from home. He only had two or three months left before graduation, he could have made it that long. But here he was, in the middle of the woods, looking at an abandoned van as prospective housing. 

“If you give up now, you might as well give up on your dreams. Going back home means all of this was for nothing. You might as well throw away all the sheet music and demos you’ve made and go ahead and pick up the law books he was forcing you to read, because you will never do music again if you go back now. Do you want to let your dad win?” He stopped dead In his tracks. Leaving now did mean he was giving up. Going back home to a father that thought of him as nothing but a useless loser was not an option. It might be hard to tough it out, but it wasn’t anything he couldn't get used to. 

He sighed heavily, shoulders drooping with the harsh exhale of breath. “God, I hate that you're always right.” You chuckled. “But, I love it at the same time.” He turned to face you, taken back by the ethereal glow the backdrop of the clearing gave you. You looked otherworldly, a type of beauty that he could never fully wrap his head around. You were the type of person people wrote songs about. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he was one of those said people. He stood there like he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head, letting the thought go. “You have to promise to come see me often. I… I can't do this alone.” You smiled brightly and he reciprocated. How could he not? To him, you had the most radiant smile. 

“Wouldn't have it any other way.” You reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I'll always have your back.”

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Loneliness. That's what he expected to feel out on his own. His first night was full of it. Every little creek and bump in the night caused him to stir. Afraid that a random serial killer would happen upon his trailer and brutally kill him. Truth was, he just watched too many horror films, October wasn’t that long ago after all. Plus, the two of you loved to break tradition and watch horror and thriller in place of cheesy Christmas love stories where there was always a small town guy and a big city girl who fight their differences to fall in love with each other, while simultaneously saving the town's failing get-together spot. It was always the same trope in a different font and you both hated it. 

When a particularly loud sound pulled him from his sleep, his immediate response was to call you. He’d had enough run-ins with the cops to know not to call them when he was squatting on some middle of nowhere abandoned property. He knew that your soothing voice would be the one thing that would calm him down. It was the only thing that made him feel safe. Just hearing your voice would save him from drowning or bring him back from the brink of death.

“Mhm.” Even with just a hum he knew you had been in a deep slumber. It hadn’t even been the blaring ringtone that woke you up, it was the bright screen of Jisung doing his happy dance after trying the cheesecake you made him for his last birthday.

“Will you stay on the phone with me? It's… Kind of scary out here by myself.” He could hear you shuffling, before settling. Jisung was used to being alone; between his parents traveling for work and his brother being away, loneliness was a constant for the boy. But he knew you were always a phone call away. You’d never failed to answer his call, even if you were asleep or busy; you always made time for him.

“Have you been to sleep, Ji? It's like after four.” Your speech was still slurred, but he found it comforting.

“Yeah. But I keep hearing things.” He played with the fringe on one of the throw pillows you'd lifted from your parents' guest house.

“Want me to sing our song?” He knew you hated to sing, you felt that you couldn't. But he liked for you to sing to him, just for him. Felt like a warm embrace. Your voice was sweet and angelic.

“Please?” You chuckled softly.

Clearing your throat, you started to sing. “Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile.

"Wherever you are, I'm always by your side. Whatever you say, you're always on my mind. I promise you "forever" right now.”

He could feel himself sinking into the mattress underneath him. The worries of the day mentally melting off of him with each word you sang. You were his comfort. He closed his eyes as you continued to sing.

“Someone I can love from my heart. Someone I love from the bottom of my heart. In the center of this love. You are my heart…” 

You paused, hearing the light snoring through the receiver. You couldn't help the sleepy smile that spread over your face. “Goodnight, Ji. Love you.” You hung the phone up quickly, missing his sleep riddled reply.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

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The weeks passed by slowly, turning into months. You meant it when you said you’d visit. You were over at Jisung’s place almost every day. Even when things got a little hectic in your schedule you still made time for him. He appreciated that, he really did. But something was off with you. He felt it deep down, every time you canceled on him, or changed the subject when all he asked was a simple question. You were keeping something from him and it wasn’t anything small either. 

Jisung was sitting on the floor of his van, feet dangling out of the open sliding door, plucking at his guitar. There wasn’t much inspiration flowing as of late. Not when his mind was occupied with you and the secret you were keeping from him. He wanted to know, just wanted to come right out and ask you what you were hiding. But he knew if he was going to ask, he needed to do it gently. You’d shut down if he forced you to tell him what was up. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn’t see you come out of the clearing. Not even the dry grass crunching under your sandals could pull him from deep within his thoughts.

“Ji, I think your ears are smoking. You okay?” The sound of your voice snapped him out of it. His fingers stopped what they were doing and he sat up. 

“Huh? My what are what-ing?” He moved his hand to his ear, feeling for whatever substance you said was coming out his ear, only to realize you were joking. He chuckled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” His class graduated today. Instead of being out, celebrating with you and taking pictures of this great day, he was stuck in his van. Barred from coming within fifty feet of the school. 

“Are you dumb? What kind of celebration would it be if you weren’t with me?” You pulled your hand that he hadn’t realized you were hiding until you flashed your diploma. “I’m free… from well.. High School.” You chuckled. “Those last few months were tough without you, Ji. I had no one to talk to.” You sighed, but his only response was to hum.

The tension had built up in his head, his intrusive thoughts winning the ongoing battle in his head. “What are you hiding from me?” He spoke suddenly, not even bothering to look in your eyes as he asked. 

You shook the diploma cover you held in your hand, “My diploma. Is… is everything alright, Ji?” You looked at him confused. Chalking it up to maybe he’d been out here too long by himself. It had been two days since the last time you were by, you just couldn’t free up time.

“No, it’s not alright. You have been acting strange for the last month or so.” He sat his guitar down and jumped down out of the van, coming face to face with you. “You know you can trust me, so, why are you hiding something from me?” 

You thought you’d been acting normal. Trying to keep those feelings of betrayal from seeping out of your pores like bottom shelf liquor. “I…” He was right, you had been hiding something, from the fear of feeling like you’d lose him if you told him the truth. 

He sighed, frustration taking over his expression. Being a forced recluse had taken its toll on Jisung. Jisung might have had most of the things a person with an actual apartment had. He had a kitchen, albeit a small one. He had a place to sleep, and a makeshift living room. He had a sink and could go pee outside, plus a hose to hose down with in place of showers.. He had to walk a few miles to the local gym to handle other things like real grooming, so his hard on his face and the top of his head had grown out tremendously. Not to mention places you hadn’t seen.

Jisung had gotten a job in town, and used you as a reference. Now he worked the night shift at a gas station. It gave him something to do in the meantime, to help him save up to move somewhere other than this ultra conservative little town so he could pursue his dream. He had always hoped you’d get accepted somewhere cool so he could tag along and get some gigs. He always wanted to be wherever you were.

“Please, just tell me the truth.” His voice was soft. He just wanted to know the truth.

You sighed, eyes focused on the diploma in your hand. “I’m leaving.” You spoke, but you stayed planted in your spot. Jisung looked at you confused. 

“Now? Or…”

“Right before school starts. I… I got accepted into the university of my dreams…. Ji…” The sadness in your voice was palpable. The excitement hit him before the realization hit. You’d been talking about where you really wanted to go if you ever got the chance. It was in a different country, halfway across the globe. You were leaving. For real.

He took a moment. He didn’t want to seem bitter that you were leaving him. But, you were leaving him. His rock was leaving him to float away. You kept his mind grounded, what was he going to do with you gone?

“I.. I’ve been afraid to tell you. I wanted to tell you in my own way, whenever I was ready. But… It never seemed like a good time.” You were picking at a loose string on the hand stitched leather cover.

It felt like an eternity before Jisung spoke again. “You’re leaving… for uni?” You looked up, alarmed by his voice which was devoid of any type of feeling.

"What happened to us sticking together? Staying close to each other?" He frowned, "So.. you're leaving m-..?" He paused, but quickly corrected himself. "You are leaving Rutherglen?"

“Yes, in a few months.” You nodded, hoping that if you explained you had time before you went it would help him to process it better.

He was trying his best to keep all of his emotions from spilling out like an over boiling pot, but he couldn’t keep it in. “How long have you known?” 

Your brows creased into a frown. “How long have I known that I wanted to go there? You know the answer-”

He stopped you mid-sentence. “How long have you known that you were leaving? How long have you known that you were leaving me behind?” His voice came out calm, but it was the type of calm that led to murders.

“Ji- I- don't know. I just.. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how to say it-”

“How long?!” He snapped, scaring the both of you. You’d never witness this side of him. The shade of anger almost reminded you of his father. “Y/n.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

You cut him off this time. “A month.” You spoke matter-of-factly. “I got the letter a month ago and I’ve been riddled with anxiety while trying to figure out how to tell you. You know this is all I ever wanted and I-”

You felt the wind get knocked out of you before you could finish your sentence. “Go.” You stopped speaking as the cold word left your best friend's mouth. “I don’t need you to stay here for my sake. I’ll be just fine by myself.” He didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but somehow, you did. You took a few steps back away from him.

He didn’t dare look at your face, too afraid it would break his heart and make it even harder to say goodbye.

He had to let you go. He knew that and you knew that. All he would be doing is holding you back if he tried to convince you to stay closer to him. He knew this was your dream and he needed to support that. Because all you ever did was support him. He felt it was finally his turn to do the same for you.

If he didn’t let go now, he definitely wouldn’t be able to a few months from now. If he didn’t rip the Band-Aid off now, the wound would never heal. “Just fucking go.” He wanted to congratulate you, tell you just how good you did. That despite all of the hurdles you faced you still came out on top. You deserved to be celebrated. But he couldn’t do that with you, not right now. Not when he was on the verge of ripping his own heart out. He let his long bangs cover his eyes so you wouldn’t look into them and see the immediate regret they held. “Why are you still standing here? GO!” 

You swallowed the enormous lump in your throat. He wouldn’t get your tears, he didn’t deserve them. You couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so upset. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But how do you go about telling your best friend that you won't be able to see them again until some miscellaneous holiday? If that. Your family had money, but you doubt they would even care enough to fly you back and forth, especially if it was just to see some boy.

“Ji, I’m sorry I wanted to-” He stopped you before you could finish by getting in the van and shutting the door right in your face. He could show you better than he could tell you that he wanted you gone. You sucked in a deep breath and turned your back on the van. It took everything in you not to turn around, you didn’t want to say goodbye, especially not like this. Jisung on the other hand, only pretended to let his anger get the best of him. He retreated to his bed as soon as the door closed. He watched silently as your back disappeared into the brush. The sadness took over as soon as he couldn’t see your back anymore. 

This was the end of the best thing he’d ever had. The closest thing he’d ever felt was close to true unconditional love.

The passage of time is a funny thing. One moment you are crying your eyes out because what you thought was your person turned their back on you. Then you traveled halfway across the world to get your degree and ended up spending four more years in another place to get your doctorate. Now you are sitting at your younger brother’s wedding rehearsal. Just who gets married at the ripe age of twenty-two? He just got the hang of legal drinking, for Christ's sake. When did he even get this big? 

Things were hectic, especially considering you were his “best man”, like he didn’t have a male friend to fill the role. You would have been perfectly fine just sitting out with your parents as a bystander. Thankfully you were pretty familiar with his friends and his soon to be husband. Plus you knew the ins and outs of his life, even if you didn’t want to. He said he trusted you more than anyone, that's why he picked you. You couldn’t say no to that, even if you desperately wanted to. 

The wedding was beautiful. His family also came from money, so they spared no expense to make sure that their ‘Lovely boy”, as they affectionately called him, got everything he wanted. That included a destination all the way in lovely Spain, Ibiza to be exact. Your parents paid for the reception, and of course, married or not, no one was going to outdo them when it came to their favorite child. They rented out a whole hotel with beautiful vistas of the Ibizan coastline. Your brother also wanted them to pay for Beyonce to come and perform, but they quickly shot that down, which you found funny. Instead He asked for another artist, one that his now husband seemed to love.

You had just finished taking a picture with the wedding party, successfully embarrassing your little brother with a big kiss on the cheek in the last photo. You couldn’t be happier for his happiness. He pulled you to the side, as the others gathered to make their entrance to the reception. “Sis, I couldn’t thank you enough for all you've done for me.” He put a hand on your shoulder, looking down at you with your mothers smile. Seriously, when did he get so big? “I know things haven't always been smooth sailing between us. I didn’t have nearly as many things to overcome, being that I'm the baby and mom's favorite after all.” He laughed and you playfully scowled. 

“But, I recognize, and I'm thankful for every sacrifice you've made as my older sibling. Without your encouragement I would have never gone to law school, which means I would have never met the love of my life. I'd still be miserable trying to remember all the fucking funky ass medical terms.” You laughed at that, the boy was struggling. He wanted to follow in your fathers footsteps, just to make him proud. But you’d convinced him that he could make him proud just by being himself and succeeding in something he actually loved. It turned out you were right, but when weren’t you? “I needed you to tell me to find something that made me happy. So, my question to you now is, are you happy, sis?” He slid his hand from your shoulder into yours. “I don’t mean with work, we all know you love your job. Dr. Y/L/n.” You smiled, but you didn’t answer the question immediately.

For years now, it felt as if something was missing from your life. But you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. You’d been in a few relationships since you’d left Rutherglen, you’d even been engaged. You’d made friends along the way, some you were even still close to. But for the most part, nothing ever felt worth the effort to keep. Maybe it was the trauma you’d felt from all of your failed high school relationships that found a way to creep into the ones you’ve tried to make. Maybe it was just some weird void left there by the person you thought was your person. Who knows? But, you were alone. But you didn’t feel like you were lonely, per-se. You filled whatever deep well of emptiness with traveling and good food. 

Your brother gave you a look and it caused you to sigh. “I’m good. This is you and Liam’s day, Aaron. I know you want to save the world and all, but you can’t solve all my problems. At least, not today anyway.” You chuckled. It was sweet that he was concerned about you, it really was. But, you’d been trying to deal with whatever this hole was for over eight years now. You found that it was either something that you get used to, or you try to fill. You just decided to get used to it. There was no use in trying to fill the black hole left in your heart by-

“It’s time to head in, you two.” The wedding planner snapped you out of your thoughts. You smiled up at your younger brother before tugging him along to join the rest of the wedding party.

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“Thank you, Manchester!” The crowd roared as Jisung threw his sweaty and torn tee-shirt out into the pit of fans. He and his band Mortal Savages were promoting their latest album, Awkward Example, on tour. This was the last stop on the European leg of the junket, after they had toured the world. He rushed off stage as the throng of fans started to get rowdier than they already were. A small mosh pit was starting to form in the middle and he honestly wanted no parts of that. Last time they waited around while that happened, he lost a tooth and ended up with a concussion and a busted guitar. 

His assistant handed him a bottle of water as he exited the stage. “Your flight is in two hours, Mr. Han. I have arranged a private car to pick you up from your hotel and take you to the airport.” Jisung nodded, listening idly. He just wanted to unwind, before heading to this small gig he and the rest of his band had been booked for. If it wasn’t for this being a special request of a friend of a friend, he’d be headed right back to Seoul with his band.

See, Jisung had made quite a name for himself over the past eight years. After he pushed you out of his life, he picked up the pieces as best he could. Using your exit as motivation. He hoped that you wouldn’t hate him forever, that one day the two of you would reunite. But in case you didn’t, he wanted to use the little bit of light you’d shone in his life to really make something of himself. He started small, busking a few towns over in a big city.

That landed him a few gigs here and there like weddings and bar mitzvahs. As much fun as those were, he had bigger dreams. He started to post short covers on tik tok and things kind of picked up from there. He was recognized by an artist that wanted to start his own label and the rest was history. He’d found his people. He put together his own band from some people he’d met in circles while touring by himself. People who had small fanbases, but great potential. 

Hyunjin, his bassist, was a model. He played bass in his free time and had a few videos posted on his insta account of him playing. He was suggested to him by a secretary at the company. Okay, maybe suggested was a strong word. She had a crush on the bassist, so it was only natural that she suggested Jisung look into him. He did, and he loved his style. Hyunjin introduced him to Felix, his closest friend, a twitch gamer that just so happened to know how to play guitar, and had a pretty surprising set of vocal cords on him. It was only natural he asked him to join the group. 

He found Jeongin in a jazz bar of all places. The kid was a classically trained pianist whose one act of rebellion was to play jazz. Jazz. As surprising as it was, it is what almost got him disowned by his family. Jisung convinced him that if he really wanted to make his parents mad, he should try rock. Turns out, Jeongin’s dad really liked rock music.

Despite him trying to anger his parents, he actually made them proud. Go figure. All he needed to round out the group was a drummer. He found his drummer, an Aussie, on youtube, doing shirtless rock remixes of popular r&b and pop songs. The dude was so undeniably cool he called his manager that night to ask him to find this dude. By the time he woke up the next morning, Chris was on a plane to see him. 

They somehow all clicked, becoming a band of brothers in a matter of months. He couldn’t see his life without these guys now. Jisung was relieved when the door closed behind him in the dressing room. He needed to tune out all of the noise. He hated being alone with his thoughts, they seemed overwhelming at times, but after a set, it seemed to be the one thing that comforted him. He flopped in a chair, directly in front of a vanity, taking in his reflection. 

So many things have changed over the years. He changed his hair a few times, it went from short to long and back again. He recently grew it out, opting to keep the long hair, figuring it stopped his face from looking so youthful and chubby. He'd dyed it several times, but it was currently back to his regular dark brown. His previously unmarred skin was now littered with various tattoos with different meanings and reasons behind them.

Most of them remind him of his past, both the good and bad. Without those moments, he wouldn’t be who he was today. He ran his fingers through his damp fringe, sighing. He had no time to reminisce about ancient history, he had somewhere to be in a few hours and needed to gather his strength to get there. Jisung pushed himself up with a heave-ho and gathered up his things.

It was a quick ride back to the hotel. There were a few fans and reporters posted outside. It was just the ones who had figured out he and his band mates were staying there. His anxiety started to kick in the moment he started to see the flashes of cameras as the car came to a halt in the drop off area. He almost asked his assistant to go get his things, that he’s take care of his personal hygiene when they got to their destination.

But he group mates were already shuffling out of the SUV before he could get his bearings. Jisung felt like he was in a trance, his body moving on auto pilot. The sound had cut out, all he could hear was muffled shouting and the incessant humming noise. His face was blank, gone with any thoughts that he had in his head. There was just this tiny voice in his head telling him, “You got this, Ji.” It sounded an awful lot like his old friend. But it had been eight years and the sound of her voice was something he had long ago forgotten, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to the memory of it.

There were times when he thought he might forget her face, but social media was a constant reminder of it. It wasn’t like he was stalking her or anything . Okay, maybe he was. But it was only just a little bit. He just wanted to know if she was doing well. If she’d gotten married, or made any big life changes. She’d changed a lot too. Her style had changed, as well as her hair a few times. But the thing that stayed the same was her smile. It was the thought of her smile that kept his feet moving as he made his way into the hotel. The sound came back in as the cool air of the hotel lobby hit his face. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thankful he didn’t have another episode like he did a couple weeks ago. He fainted from anxiety and it made front page news, much to his chagrin.

“Alright, everyone go get your things. We will meet back here in forty-five.” His manager spoke after rounding up the band and their staff. It wasn’t much time, but he was glad he’d get at least a few minutes to himself before heading out again into the sea of people waiting for him. The elevator ride up to their floor was filled with eventful conversations between the members and the few staff that took the ride up with them. Jisung would throw a smile or a nod around occasionally, but was otherwise disengaged. His mind was filled with thoughts about his family. How his brother and his wife had welcomed their second child, a little boy with round chubby cheeks just like his uncle. He hoped that his brother would be a better father to the second born child than their father was to him. 

Even though they had since then made up. Jisung knew it was only due to him being a ‘success’, rather than his father truly being sorry for all of the pain he’d caused him. It took a lot of therapy and lyric writing for him to even be remotely open to talking to his father. If it wasn’t for mis mother practically begging him to forgive the man, he would have never even considered it. Turns out that the youth vote can be boosted when your son is a super popular rockstar. Just have said rockstar pose in a few pictures with the mayoral candidate with the same name, and your political career might take off.

He didn’t fault his father for it. He'd worked hard to get his career to that point. There was nothing wrong with booting your votes with a pretty well-known artist. Especially when that artist is your child. His father actually sat him down amidst their reunion and told him that the only reason he treated him like that was because he saw too much of himself in him. That he once had aspirations to be a rock star, that he almost made it. Him and his band had signed a record deal and everything. But things fell through and they ended up having to pay back the company for the debt they had incurred. He just didn’t want that life for his son. He also admitted that he may have gone about things the wrong way, not recognizing the same stubbornness in his son that he once had.

The ding of the elevator brought Jisung out of his thoughts. He separated from his members as he pushed his door open after using the keycard to get in. He was back to his thoughts, now his brain now blotted with thoughts of you. He missed you, dearly. How your lips curled when you smiled. How your hair smelled when you hugged him in the mornings before class. How your sleepy voice sounded. How out of everyone, you gave him the most strength to make it day to day. How a chance encounter was the reason you two became friends in the first place. Even down to how you were his person. 

Even years after seeing you last, you were still his person. He had a feeling you would always be. Countless hit records were written about you and he'd keep writing about you until he couldn't write anymore. His muse. His first true love. His person. The lov- “Aren’t you Han? From Mortal Savages?” His door barely clicked open when he heard the high pitched vocal fry of what he assumed was one of his fans. He sighed. If he hadn’t been caught up in his thoughts maybe he would have seen her and possibly avoided all of this. He quickly closed the door, knowing all too well how some fans could be and he didn’t want to take that chance.

He turned to her with a smile. “Yeah. What can I do for you, beautiful?” He’d learned from Chris that sometimes you had to pacify the fans with a compliment, make them feel special. It made them come back.

Her eyes lit up at the compliment. “I- I was hoping… you might invite me in.” Jisung tried his best to keep his face neutral. “I’m your biggest fan, a-and I wanted to show you just how much I love you.” Stealthily he turned on his camera to record this incident, sometimes you had to be careful with delicate situations like this. He didn’t want his career to end over a ‘he said, she said’ situation. 

He sighed again, “Look, you seem like a nice person, but I’m really tired and I don’t have much time. I have another gig to get t-”

“But your schedule says it’s clear..” She pulled out her phone to provide the evidence. 

“It’s a private event, that's why it isn’t on there.” He nodded, “I really need to get packed up so that I don’t miss my plane.” She took the opportunity to step closer to him.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while!” She got a little louder, alarming the man even further.

“N-no thank you.” He spoke nervously. He’d had industry friends say that this happened to them all of the time, but this was a first for him. He stepped back, back hitting the door to his room. 

“I’ll be really good for you, Ji.” She pressed her body against his. Calling out the nickname that no one, but you called him. You were the only one allowed to call him that. It was either his last, first, or his full name. It didn’t have the same endearing ring when others said it. He hated how it sounded falling from other people's lips.

“Wh-what did you call me?” He stared at her blankly.

“Ji.” She smiled wide as if she had accomplished something. “I thought it was cute. Everyone else calls you Han or Jisung, so I thought it’d be nice to call you something I came up with on my own.”

The anger was rolling off Jisung in waves, like magma slowly building towards becoming erupted lava. His face stayed calm as he spoke, but every word was pointed. “Don’t ever call me that again. It’s not for you to come up with different names for me. It’s Jisung, not Ji to you. Understand?” She nodded, getting the underlined hint that he was angry. He didn’t even sound like himself.

“Now, like I said… I have somewhere to be and you are holding me up. If you want a picture or an autograph I can give that to you, but I can’t give you anything else.” She took the opportunity to get the picture, but he was sure she was going to write some whack ass caption like, “Don’t meet your idols.” Or some shit like that. He didn’t have the capacity or strength to care at the moment, he had places to be.

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Jisung was often praised for how quickly he could go to sleep. Not many people had that skill, plus the ability to sleep anywhere and not be disturbed by the loud noise surrounding him. But his alleged gift did not come in handy on the flight from Manchester to their private booking two hours and some change away. As a matter of fact, that usual gift seemed like a deterrence. He fell asleep as soon as they got on the plane, but ten minutes later he was wide awake again. He tried his best to get some rest before they touched down, but nothing helped. He counted sheep and took a swig of liquor, he even tried a sleep aid, but here he was, looking out the window as the plane touched down. It had to be his luck, right? Something was off in the universe or something. Because why was his scale tipping towards all this bad will?

Even after arriving and settling into his hotel room, sleep just would not come to him. The hours ticked by. He tried at first to see if he laid in the bed long enough if sleep would still elude him, it did. He tried to gather some inspiration, maybe pen something fantastic about not being able to sleep, the inspiration never came. So as the sun slowly started to creep over the horizon, he decided to take a walk. The beautiful vistas around this hotel were captivating, so hopefully they would provide him with both inspiration and clarity. He stood near the cliff and watched the sunrise, not noticing the woman a few yards away from him, taking in the same views. He was about to leave, hoping that seeing the sun would finally put him to sleep when he noticed something about her. The briny scent of the sea mixed with her scent and just like a care package, the breeze sent it right into his nostrils. 

Every muscle and nerve in his body froze with the familiar scent. But there was just no way. Right? His father asked him to do this favor, saying this was his wedding gift to the son of a family friend. But it never occurred to him that your family were the aforementioned family friends. His body ached to call out to you, run to you, but his mind kept him in the same position. With good reason apparently. You were joined a moment later, a man around your age coming behind you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders before taking up the spot right next to you. Was that your boyfriend? His anxiety started to bubble in the center of his chest, his heart felt shaky. He knew a day like this would come, when he would have to face you once more. Make amends with how he broke your heart. But he never expected it to be on your family trip. He didn’t expect to meet you again in the same manner he met you the first time. Meeting somewhere tropical with your family somewhere nearby. Now he had to add in a boyfriend to the mix.

His head was starting to pound, he needed to sleep. He needed his heart to stop beating so rapidly in his chest. He needed to call this all off and head back to the comfort of his own home, to get away from the madness. “Jisung, what are you doing out here?” His eyes widened, hearing his name being called. He turned around to see his manager, dressed in his workout gear, just having come from a run. In a panic, Jisung quickly pulled the man away from the scene, hoping you hadn’t heard. Just as he ducked back into the building, you looked around in the spot he was just in, to see no one there.

It took him a while to calm down. He could still see you from his hotel room and it wasn’t helping him one bit. Internet stalking you was bad enough, now he was literally stalking you, watching you from his window like some creep. He was anxious, sleep deprived, and now he had to add scared that he’d truly lost you forever. He looked on at you and your boyfriend, talking animatedly from the window. His arm was around your shoulder, he assumed to keep you warm. Even with the blanket still around you. “What am I going to do?” He was stressed. Hair sticking up all over his head from incessantly running his fingers through it. He couldn't leave, he’d made a promise with his dad to do this in his absence. Plus his mom was somewhere around, she’d been texting him all night about how she couldn’t wait to see her precious baby. He wouldn’t be able to stomach a decision that made her sad when she was clearly so excited.

He wanted to say ‘fuck you’, to being a good son. But at the end of the day he just couldn’t. What if you didn’t recognize him? Or worse. What if you ignored his entire existence? He knew you had every right too, he did push you out of his life just because you’d hidden your acceptance to college from him. Or at least that's what he let you think. He didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t follow your biggest dreams. He flopped on his bed, tired of watching the endless flirtation and touching between you and your supposed boyfriend. He laid in the bed, draping his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. “Get a grip, Jisung. It’s just a performance. She’s just a girl. Just do what you came here for and peace out. It’s simple.” At least he hoped that's how things would be. He’d perform, then he and his mom would make their way to Seoul to visit some family. Simple. Easy. Right?

Yeah, things were definitely not that easy. Not for him at least. He eventually fell asleep, just to be woken up by a knock at his door. It was his mother, inviting him to be her date to the wedding. Was he a momma’s boy because he couldn’t deny her this simple task? Maybe, but how could he say no to her? That's how he ended up between his mother and your third cousin, Lilliana, both women talking his ears off as he nodded idly. Luckily the wedding was outdoors, so his sunglasses made a lot of sense. He wasn’t the only one shielding their eyes from the sun's rays. The only reprieve he felt was when the wedding march started. For the most part, the wedding party came in one person at a time. Until it came to the best men, the two of you walked in together, arm in arm. The way he looked at you sunk Jisung’s heart lower than the floor. 

You were stunning, he could understand your boyfriend’s feelings. The way the all red pants suit looked on, put everyone else to shame. Even the way your hair was pinned up, or even how simple but gorgeous your makeup looked, all of the above just complimented your beauty perfectly. He couldn’t pay attention to the actual wedding, his mind and eyes focused on you the whole time. Even if you felt his stare, you didn’t acknowledge it. He was thankful for that. He already felt like a creep from watching you this morning. Even as you walked back down the aisle, he watched you until he couldn’t see your figure anymore.

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Nerves. He stopped getting nervous before shows years ago. But here he was, pacing back and forth, chewing on his already bitten away nails. His members looked on at him, worried. It’d been a while since they’d seen him like this and even though each of them tried their best to comfort him in their own way, nothing seemed to work. The time was ticking down for them to go on stage and the dread in the pit of his stomach was growing exponentially. What if she still hates me? What if she lets everyone know how disgusting of a human being I am for treating her that way? What is this…? What if that…? He was so far into his thoughts it took an actual push from his manager to start walking.  

“Babe, I know how much you love this group and their lead singer's voice. So, using my sister's old connections, I asked his dad if he could get them to perform for our wedding reception.” Aaron spoke, holding up his champagne flute towards his husband. “So, this is Mayor Han’s gift to us for our wedding. Please give a warm round of applause to Mortal Savages!” All of the young people in the crowd went wild, most of them rushing to the dance floor right in front of the stage to get a good view. Aaron hurried to his husband's side to watch the band. But all Jisung could do was look out into the crowd, in hopes of finding you. He felt like a teenager all over again. Transported back to his audience of one. No one else mattered in this moment, not even the grooms who he was here to entertain.

He expected to see anger in your eyes, but instead was met with this inexplicable sadness. “Uh- hi.” Jisung spoke nervously. “It’s been a while since we last played a wedding, but uh- I hope..” He could see your boyfriend whispering something in your ear just for you to shake your head no. It only made him wonder what he asked. “I hope this song reaches someone out there. Because almost every song is written for or about someone. Often it's about the love that got away, other times it’s about the love you feel in the moment. So.. I hope this helps to spread the love that this lovely couple is feeling at this very moment.” He grabbed his guitar, the pick nearly slipping out of his sweaty fingers.

As the song started, he kept his eyes locked on your, not straying away from your saddened yet scrutinizing gaze. 

“지킬게 아파도 돼 네가 흘린 상처들은 감싸 안을게 이미 내게 너는 죄 너는 죄…”

You tore your eyes from him, to focus once more on your boyfriend, giving that man a soft smile. One that was once reserved strictly for Jisung. Most if not all of your smiles once upon a time were because of him, they were for him. Maybe because things were so easy back then he didn’t realize he was taking them for granted, taking you and the love you showed him for granted, platonic or not. Almost as if he couldn’t lose them. To know that the reason you were no longer a constant in his life was all his doing? Felt like a ripping stab to the heart.

“뜨거운 네가 필요해, you are my volcano…”

He was thankful that you let the song end before you excused yourself. Jisung dropped everything, practically chucking his guitar into his manager's hands before running after you. He could hear the confused claps at the reception, he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but those were the last thing on his mind right now. He saw the fabric of your red suit rush to the elevator, but he quickly caught it before the doors closed completely. You sighed loudly, wishing you could have vanished before he found you, but your luck was apparently shit.

“Please.. Just.. hear me out.” He huffed, arms still stretched out at his sides holding the elevator door open. You wanted to tell him no, because what was left to say? He was the one who pushed you out, not the other way around. You owed him nothing. But you gave in anyway. Truth be told, you wanted to hear what excuses he’d make for his past behavior. Because a simple apology wasn’t going to work on you, you needed to know why he pushed you away.

He silently stepped on the elevator with you. The building only had a few floors, so he needed to speak quickly. “I didn’t realize until it was too late that this was your brother's wedding. I hope you don’t think I crashed it on purpose, because that just isn’t the case. I just-”

“Get to the point, Jisung. I don’t have all night to stand in this elevator and talk with you.” You spoke coldly, eyes staring into his murky reflection on the mirrored doors. You wouldn’t even spare him an actual look. He could feel himself getting nervous all over again.

“It’s not an excuse, but in my mind, pushing you away was the best thing for you. I wanted to keep you by my side. But I knew if I selfishly asked you to stay, you would. I also knew that talking with you over the phone or facetime wouldn’t be enough. Especially not when I’d grown used to having you near. Once upon a time, one phone call was all it took and you’d be there, but how could you if you were in another country? I couldn’t deal with even the thought of it. Being able to hear your voice, but not being able to actually bask in your presence- the thought of living like that for four years killed me.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. “But that wasn’t just your decision to make, Ji-” His nickname almost slipped off your tongue, probably a force of habit. “Jisung. We could have figured something out. But you decided our friendship wasn’t worth fighting for. You literally slammed the door in my face. It’s been eight years. Do you think I’m still hung up on how you imploded our friendship on a whim? I’ve moved on. You should too.” Your sentence ended just as the elevator dinged, the old door creaking open. “Congratulations on becoming a success, by the way. I guess me not being around paid off for you.”

Your eyes finally met his, but he didn’t like the look in them. Like you loathed the fact that he was breathing the same air as you. “I can’t.” He spoke, exiting the lift with you. “I can’t move on. I never had any intention to.” He followed after you, even after you dismissed him. You were just trying to get into your room, away from him, away from the noise. But he was persistent. He followed you in. After you didn’t push him out, he continued. 

“Almost every song I’ve written has been about you. For you. I-I hoped that one day you’d see my face on tv or hear my voice on the radio and look me up. I hoped that you’d read my lyrics or my ‘thanks to’ and realize that everything I did was so you could see me. See that I needed to push you away for both of us to grow. I needed the pain to see that my feelings for you were more than whatever platonic bullshit I had reduced them too. I needed that space to understand that what I thought was love with my exes would never compare to the love I have for you. I’ve been in and out of relationships since you walked away from my van and back into the trees and nothing, not even the biggest heartbreak has compared to the feeling of never seeing your face or hearing your voice again.”

You kept your back turned towards him as you listened. You stared out the sliding glass door and glass balcony fence that overlooked the reception area. The party was still going on, everyone was having a good time, despite the lead singer of the band being missing in action. 

“All I’ve wanted this past eight years is for you to understand that I was too dependent on you. I needed to grow up, to man up and I couldn’t do that if you were around. I had to learn to navigate life by myself without you constantly helping me out of every little fuck up. Do you even realize that that's how it was? Everytime I fucked up, you came behind me and cleaned it up to the best of your ability. I flunked a class, you spent your entire summer helping me pass it so I wouldn’t be left behind the next year. I ran away from home and you found me a place to stay so I wouldn’t be homeless. I depended on you so much that I needed to know that I could do it on my own. You needed to go to the school of your dreams so you could do the work you were clearly called to do. I know I went about it the wrong way, I realize that.” 

His voice grew closer, so you closed your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t have to face him. “You broke my heart, Ji.” It hurt him to hear you say it, it hurt even more to hear how brokenhearted you sounded. “I thought that whatever we faced in life, we’d be in it together. Until the wheels fell off. Isn't that what we used to say? Isn't that what we promised?” It was more of a rhetorical question, you were sure you both knew the answer to that question.

“Then all of a sudden I was alone. You’d iced me out. I left the country right after graduation because I couldn’t stand even the thought of running into you, seeing your fucking punchable face. I realized on the plane why it hurt so bad. Why losing you as a friend hurt me worse than losing my childhood best friend to the glimmer of popularity. It was because I loved you. I came to the fucked up realization that somewhere along the way I had fallen madly in love with my best friend. If I thought I was heartbroken before, that made it far worse.” You finally turned to face him.

“Imagine, finally being able to move on. Finally free from the burden of unrequited love, just to hear his voice on the radio.” You chuckled humorously. “To have your friends gush over how hot the lead singer of this band was. Telling you just what his voice did to them in excruciating detail.” You sighed deeply just thinking of all the things your friends said they wanted to do to him or what they wanted him to do to them. 

“To have to suffer silently while they sang his songs or shoved his content down your throat. All while you are nursing the gaping wound he left behind. To keep having to relive the moment he gutted you like a fucking fish all because he what-? Wanted to be less dependent on you?” You tilted your head back as you scoffed. “I had no one, Jisung. You were my only friend. Just like you were dependent on me, it was the same for me. I had to rebuild myself once you were gone. It took years for me to open up to people, I had closed myself off afraid I’d be abandoned by someone else I considered my friend.” He could see that you were fighting back tears. He reached for you only for you to pull back.

“That's for a friend to do. Not for some random stranger that followed me to my room.” That's when the realization hit him. This looked bad. Really bad. He'd followed a girl to her room from a party. Even if you, him, and a few party goers knew the type of relationship you used to have, that was far in the past at this point. You didn't know each other now. For all he knew, you could have had a few drinks. All it took was one out of control rumor and his career would be over. He backed up, letting his hands fall to his side.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was low, almost nonexistent. “Please, let me be that for you again. It doesn’t have to be a full blown friendship, even if I want to work my way back to that. Just- just let me be there for you, please?” Jisung cautiously stepped closer with his arms stretched. It was a slow wrap of his arms around your frame, before he pulled you in close, patting your back soothingly. You both melted into each other. He swore nothing else felt more like home than being in your arms. He hugged you tighter and you broke down, sobbing into his fuzzy cardigan.

“I fucking hate you, Ji.” You gently hit his arm as you wrapped your arms around him. He chuckled lightly, a smile spreading on his lips.

“That’s okay, I’ll take the hate. Just as long as that means one day I can get you to love me again.”

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You took a few moments to recollect yourself, deciding to return to your brother's party. You tried to convince Jisung to go ahead without you, since he was being paid to be there, but he refused. He stuck with you the whole elevator ride back down and all the way until you made it into the reception. “Where the heck have you been?” A man approached the two of you, one who you could only assume was his manager. “You just ran off stage without a word. Do you know how that makes you look?” As he laid into him, you slowly backed away, going for your escape. Only for Jisung to reach back and grab your hand.

“I- I know, Hyung. I- this is her. This is my, Y/n.” He lightly tugged you forward, showing the man you clasped hands. “This is her little brother's wedding. I’ll perform a few songs by myself to make up for my absence. You and the rest of the guys can go ahead and head out. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” The man looked at him skeptically before he nodded in agreement.

“Fine. I’ll see you back in Seoul in a few weeks. You have a great vacation.” His eyes traveled to you as he plastered on a warm smile. “Congratulations on getting your PHD, I know your family must be proud, Dr. Y/l/n. I know someone was.” His eyes darted to Jisung before he bowed and left to gather up the rest of the band.

“How did you even know I got my phd?” You asked, stealthily trying to pull your hand away from the death grip he had it in, but he didn’t let go. 

“I… kind of kept up with you. Mostly on my finsta account. I also might have received news from your brother. He came to confront me at one of my shows and we’ve been in contact since. Please don’t be mad at him, I asked him to keep it from you. I didn’t want you to find a way to cut off my supply. Knowing you were doing well is what kept me going.” You sent a scowl towards your brother, who must have felt a disturbance in the force. He put his hands up to say he had no choice. You’d talk to him about this later.

“I wanted to experience the milestones in your life, even if it was from secondhand stories.” He pulled out his phone, there was a photo album dedicated to you with pictures spanning from the first time you met up until your first day at your new job as a child psychologist in a nearby children's hospital. “Though I couldn’t be there, I still want to say, congratulations. I’m proud of you.” You rolled your eyes.

“So, what you are saying is… you internet stalked me for years and even pulled my younger brother into it, with a promise to sing at his wedding. Tsk tsk. Wait until the internet gets a hold of that.” You joked. The panic in his eyes before the realization was hilarious to you. “I’m joking, Jisung.” You smiled, “Thank you for being interested in my progress through life. Congratulations to you as well, Mr. Grammy nominated artist. That's amazing, Ji. It really is. I guess we really got what we wanted, huh?” You smiled wistfully. 

But the smile slid right off of Jisung's face. He got part of what he wanted. The other part was standing right in front of him, her hand in his. And as close as she was, she was still so far away. In his mind, it was all a matter of if he was going to truly confess everything in his heart, right here, right now. He was frightened that he might overwhelm you if he did.

Though he had let it slip that he loved you earlier in your hotel room, that was nowhere close to the extent of what he felt for you. He wanted to shout it from the rooftop that the woman he loved had accepted him back into her life after he’d gone and fucked everything up.

Jisung had been swept up in a whirlwind, being introduced to all of you and your brother's mutual friends. His mind being put at ease, finding out that Hangyul was in fact not your boyfriend. Even if a blind person could tell he had fallen for your charm, Jisung was glad that was just his feeling and it wasn’t mutual apparently. Not with how far you put your wedding partner in the friendzone.

Giving Jisung a kind of go ahead to wiggle his way out of the friend zone he’d finally gotten back into. He excused himself, figuring it was time to finish out this set he was kind of sort of paid for. He sat on a stool on stage, acoustic guitar in hand, mic in front of him. “Sorry for bailing out on you all earlier. I saw the love of my life running out of the wedding hall and I needed to catch her before I made the second biggest mistake of my life.” 

Your eyes widened from the crowd where you were standing next to your brother and his husband. “The first was letting her go in the first place. I was young and apparently very stupid. I pushed the best thing that had ever happened to me out of my life and I’ve regretted that decision for the last eight years, twenty-six days..” He looked at his watch, “Ten hours, seven minutes, and 13- no 15 seconds.”

The crowd looked between the two of you, fascinated by the little tale the global rockstar was telling on this modest wedding stage. “I won’t be stupid this time. I promise to cherish every second that I’m blessed to have you in my life. I love you, Y/n. I have always loved you and I always will, no matter how much time passes.” You were holding back your tears. Jisung had always had your heart and despite you trying your best to keep your walls up, afraid that he would hurt you again, they all came tumbling down with every word that he spoke. 

“So, to the grooms. I hope that the two of you continue this beautiful love affair and cherish every single second you have together. Love isn’t something we should push down and trample on, it's something that is meant to be held on to, prized, and exalted.” He cleared his voice. “So, this is for the lovers in the crowd…I hope you love last a lifetime. I hope it never fizzles or fades and burns bright for eternity.” 

He strummed the first few chords of the song, the sound immediately bringing up fond memories of you and Jisung arguing over the best version of it, The Cure, 311, or Adele’s. You were always torn between 311 and Adele’s, while he was adamant that the original was far superior. It’s as if the rest of the world faded into the distance.

Call it tunnel vision, but all you could see was him and all he could see was you. You swayed gently, the gentle sea breeze dancing across your skin just like the melody of his voice. You hummed in tune with him, heart swelling as you realized, this song was for you. He was singing it, for you and only you.

“However far away I will always love you However long I stay I will always love you Whatever words I say I will always love you I will always love you…”

_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲_̲

You don’t remember the exact sequence of events but something clicked after Jisung’s solo performance. Maybe it was the look he gave you that made you feel like you were the center of his universe. Maybe it was the friendly banter you shared while having a few drinks. Maybe it was the late night stroll you took down to the beach or the way he held you to keep you warm. Or maybe it was the kiss you shared under the moonlight, the first of many for the night that got you going. But whatever it was that got you here, you were thankful for whatever combination it was that had you pressed against the door of your hotel room with Jisung’s lips and body pressed against yours. The feeling of his lips on yours felt electric. 

In your youth, you often wondered how it would feel to have that plum lower lips of his between yours. What it might feel like to bite it, just wanting to see his reaction. His reaction was nothing short of mind boggling. The groan that passed his lips, caused you to groan in return. Jisung’s fingers trailed over your body, slowly exploring every inch he could. Every inch that his teenage body begged to explore even back then. Every inch that he dreamed about, steamy scenes that played behind his eyelids every night. He had to be closer to you, the absence of you in his life had left a gaping void that he needed to fill. Right here. Right now. In the very moment. His shirt was first. Tossed somewhere to the side, leaving the tattoos and muscles that he’d gained over the last eight years. Your eyes widened, distracted by the hard musculature he had developed.

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders down over his pecs, making him shiver and whimper. The sounds give you ideas that your heart didn’t want you to act on, but your mind gave you the full go ahead on. “When was the last time..” You asked, hand in the center of his chest as you guided him backwards. He looked back, afraid he would fall, but you grabbed his chin making sure he kept his eyes solely on you. You didn’t stop until the back of his legs hit the mattress, then all it took was a simple push. Jisung was at your will. His round eyes shining up at you with pure anticipation in them.

“When was the last time you had sex, Ji?” You took off your red blazer fist, tossing it on a nearby chair. Next came your vest, you slowly and methodically took your time with each button, simply because you could, but also because the only thing under it was your bra. His eyes darted around, he swallowed hard. His blood was rushing straight to bulge in his pants.

“I-I don’t know. I-it’s been a while..” He kept his statement vague, too overwhelmed by everything that was happening to pinpoint an exact date. “A year- I think. Maybe more.” You smirked, shrugging the vest off your shoulders and tossing it to be with your blazer. You reached down and grabbed his hands, placing them on the waistband of your trousers.

“Take them off.” Oh the look of panic in his eyes set your heart aflame. He was absolutely the cutest. And even though you weren’t normally one to take full control in situations like this, you were oh so looking forward to taking advantage of your dear friend's vulnerability. He was going to be your tonight. The man's trembling fingers reached for the button, almost too shaky to undo them. You were patient, running your fingers through his silky hair. It took him a few minutes, the cool cross-breeze from the open balcony window offering a little air to cool off the heat on your skin. “Panties too.” God, the way the words sounded as they entered his ears did more for him than anything ever did. He’d been waiting to hear those words forever at this point. 

His brain nearly malfunctioned when he moved a little closer to slip off your panties, your scent filling his waiting nostrils. He could explode. Would you think bad of him if he came right now? He’d promise to make it up to you. He must have been led by another power, because he would swear that he had no body autonomy at that moment. His brain wasn’t even at a functioning level that would be considered functional.

You were bare before him, lust darkening your beautiful eyes. He whimpered. “Please..” He didn’t know what he was pleading for, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy hearing it any less. He was pushed back on the bed, stripped of his pants and underwear. Things were going so fast in real life, but his brain had slowed everything else down.

He barely noticed that you had straddled him and started teasing your slit with his tip. He wasn’t even aware of the noises that were loudly slipping from his lips. Jisung was in a haze, one that was carefully crafted by you, the goddess that sat above him.

The whimper that fell from his lips when you slipped him inside of you was the most orgasmic sound to have ever filled your ears. His still shaking fingers flew to your hips, needing something to ground him at this moment. His blunt nails dug into your sides as you teased his tip, letting him dip only a part of it into your entrance. “God.. please…. Please…” He begged, voice strained and whiny. 

He was definitely going to explode like this. He hadn’t even fully entered you and he was already losing his mind. He bit down on his bottom lip, eyes slipping closed as he tried to control himself. But his hips had other plans, he bucked up, pressing himself further into you and that was it, he came on the spot. The tight warmth was too much for him to handle at that moment. You pushed your hips down on him as he came, feeling the stream of cum coat your walls.

When his breathing calmed and his grip on your hips loosened, you pulled what little of him was inside of you out. Tsk’ing at the man underneath you. “Is my baby fucked out already?” You stroked his drenched cock, adding even more wetness by spitting on it. “You couldn’t even slip it in without coming, huh? What happened to that sex god of a rockstar everyone that you were?” He whimpered again, edging on overstimulation as you purposely targeted the head of his cock.

His fists were balled in the sheets, bottom lip chapped red from trying to bite into it. “S-stop, please..” You pouted at him before shaking your head. He deserved to torture just a little for all of the years the two of you missed out on doing this. You could have been his ages ago. His first girl and him as your first boy. But here you were eight years later, with a nice amount of experience under your wings. You were going to take full advantage of it. Jisung’s body convulsed as he came again. His body became rigid as he spurted his cum all over your lower stomach and hands. You jumped, surprised by the sheer amount of it.

You stuck your cum slick fingers in his open mouth, jolting his eyes open. His initial surprise melted as he enjoyed the taste of him on your skin. “Now, you are going to eat me out until I come. Got it?” You leaned down, grabbing his chin to make him look at you in the eyes. You opened his mouth and spit on his tongue, closing it back for him to accept it. You moved, lying down next to him. He wasted no time, getting between your legs expediently.

Jisung could die right now, happily. You were here with him, in the bed, his cum on your body and mingling with your own and pooling at your entrance. A feast, just for him. Everything and more than he could have ever asked for. He dove in, mind fogged with thoughts of you. Your taste. Your smell. That lustful yet dominant look in your eyes as you laced your fingers into his long, permed hair.

And the taste of you? It deserved five Michelin stars, two more than regular just because he said so. You tugged on his hair as he wrapped his plum little mouth around your clit. You used his hair as your anchor to move his head around as you saw fit. A hair pull to signal him to go faster, a pull to the left or right for him to move his tongue elsewhere. He was like your own little tongue flicking toy with a customizable setting. He lapped, sucked, and licked to both you and his content. His moans and whimpers almost outnumber yours.

He was in heaven between your legs, and would gladly mark his tombstone in this very place. His skilled tongue sent you barreling over the edge, your grip on his hair tightening to an almost painful level, but he didn’t complain. He was just happy that he was the one who was able to make you unfold like this.

Your other hand grabbed him by the neck, pulling him up to you for a passionate kiss. You could eat him alive if he let you. The hand in his hair slipped between the two of you. He had already started rutting his hips against you, desperate to feel you again. It was easy to grab him and slip him into you once again, but this time for real. 

Your breath hitched as his eyes rolled back. Your fingers still around his neck squeezed lightly as you continued to unmake and reassemble him with your kisses. He felt like he could feel every single atom that made him, him. His hips were slow to move at first, but once he built his rhythm, that was that. The sound coming from between the two of you was filthy. Spit and cum and your spent were mixing to make the glide in and out of your tight walls even easier for him.

Your toes were curled, knees digging into his sides as you squeezed your legs around him. “Fill me up, Ji. Fuck me full of your love.” Your name slipped off his lips like a prayer at your words. He’d give you the moon and the stars if you kept talking to him like that. “Isn’t that what you've always wanted? To make me yours?” He nodded frantically. You paused your words, fluttering around him at a more consistent pace. You were close, both of you knew it. Both of you could feel it.

“Yo-you are mine.” He kissed at your jaw, “Please, co-come with me. I- I need you-” He couldn’t get his words out to finish his thoughts. He had already murmured the magic phrase. “You are mine.” You came around him, pulling your lips only a breath away, taking in the air that escaped his mouth into your own lungs like it was the only oxygen you needed. His followed almost immediately, your tight cunt draining him of any energy of essence he had left. Your walls continued to flutter around him, even after every drop of him had been emptied into you.

Your hands fell to your sides, legs unlocking from around him. You had nothing left to give, but love to the man you’d loved most of your life. He rolled off of you, body slick with perspiration and the mixed essence that both of you expelled. He exhaled deeply, hand searching for yours, finding it nearby and over the covers. He kissed the back of it, eyes boring into yours. Unspoken words being said with just a look. The both of you admitting what you both knew as this escapade started. You were in love.

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“Encore! Encore! Encore!” The crowd chanted loudly. The lights in the stadium had just dimmed, signaling that the last song had been played. But they still begged for more. The band was backstage, goofy smiles on all of their faces. Adrenaline is still pulsing through their bodies.

“One more, guys?” Jisung asked and they all quickly agreed. One more song to end the night. They headed back on stage to an onslaught of rabid cheers. They had one more song up their sleeves. A song that eighteen year old Jisung had pinned himself, one that embodied the way he felt when he saw the heartbreak in your eyes when he pushed you away. He wanted to do nothing more than to wipe your tears, and hold your hand.

To tell you that everything would be okay. That he loved you, forever and always. Because to him, there was no him without you. He stood amongst his band on stage, belting the lyrics to the song. Eyes focused on the only person he wanted to see in a room full of people, the woman he loved. The person almost all of his songs were about. You, with that big proud smile plastered on your face.

“'Cause all I want is you, not your tears 눈물이 마를 때까지 I wanna make you the happiest one, no fear So baby, hold my hand now…”

FIN

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』

SONG CREDITS: ✻BIG BANG - LOSER ✻ONE OK ROCK - WHEREVER YOU ARE ✻HAN - VOLCANO ✻THE CURE: LOVESONG ✻HAN - HOLD MY HAND

[scriptedinkbyxim]

Past the Finish Line: Beyond the Checkered Flag [MV1]

As the final race of the 2024 season approaches, [Y/N] strives to reclaim her peace amidst chaos, love confessions and bittersweet encounters. Closure comes with the roar of engines and the glow of the podium — but just when the dust seems to settle, new– and old sparks ignite, all of them promising a bright future yet unwritten.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Sainz! Female Reader, Sainz! Female Reader x Brother! Carlos Sainz, a little Charles Leclerc x Sainz! Female Reader and a little Lando Norris x Sainz! Female Reader.

Warnings: Charlos divorce. Panic Attack. Carlos last race with Ferrari. Open Ending. Is Kelly Piquet a Warning?

A/N: Hi, Xim here. Here is the last part of "Past the Finish Line" short series, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it. English is not my first language so apologies in advance for any mistake. Are Max and (Y/N) Done for Good? What Happend with Charles? Lando enters the picture as well?

Part 1. | Part 2. | Lando's Ending | Charles' Ending

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

The weeks following Monza passed in relative quiet. (Y/N) retreated into her writing, pouring her emotions into her work. She disconnected from social media, avoiding the curated perfection of others' lives, especially the constant updates about Max and Kelly.

Her family had returned to Madrid after the Italian race, but she went back to Mallorca, finding solace in the island's tranquil beauty. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and wildflowers, and the gentle rhythm of the waves became a balm for her restless soul.

One morning, as she sat on the terrace overlooking the sparkling sea, her visiting mother, Mercedes, joined her with two cups of tea.

"You've been quiet," her mother observed gently, placing one cup in front of her.

(Y/N) wrapped her hands around the warm mug, the steam curling into the air. "Just... thinking."

Mercedes gave her a knowing look. "About him?"

She hesitated before nodding. "I thought I was getting better, but then Monza happened. Seeing him, hearing his voice... it just brought everything back."

Her mother's hand covered hers. "Healing isn't a straight line, hija. But you're stronger than you think."

(Y/N)'s throat tightened. "Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake. Maybe I should've fought harder."

Mercedes's eyes softened. "You fought enough mi amor. Love shouldn't be a battlefield where you have to prove your worth."

The truth of her mother's words settled heavily on her chest.

Spending peaceful days in Mallorca allowed life to beckon her back. Her agent had been persistent, urging her to attend an upcoming literary event in New York. It was time, (Y/N) decided, to re-engage with the world.

She packed her bags, leaving the island with a sense of quiet determination. Max might have moved on, but so could she.

As the plane soared over the Mediterranean, she watched the clouds drift by, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

φ

A few months after her return to Madrid, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed with an unexpected call from her father.

"Hola, papá," she greeted warmly.

"Cariño," his voice was gentle but firm. "We need you in Abu Dhabi for Carlos's final race with Ferrari. The whole family will be there."

Her stomach twisted. The paddock again. The last place she wanted to be.

"I don't think I can..." she murmured grimmley.

"Your brother deserves your support," her father reminded her. "You’re strong enough for this, hija. And we'll all be there with you."

Her heart warred with her mind, but in the end, love for her brother won out. "Okay. I'll be there."

The decision was made, but anxiety clawed at her chest. The idea of facing Max again, seeing him with Kelly, was almost unbearable.

Still, she owed it to Carlos.

φ

Abu Dhabi was a city shimmering with golden light and restless energy. The final race of the 2024 Formula 1 season had drawn an electric crowd, eager to witness the spectacle unfold. This was meant to be a celebration—Carlos’ last race with Ferrari. She was there for him, for the team, for everything but herself. The journey to this place felt less like a celebration and more like a reckoning. 

She arrived early, blending into the sea of red-clad Ferrari fans who hoped for one last victory for Carlos in the iconic scarlet car. The weight of nostalgia and pride hung thick in the air. (Y/N) tried to focus on that, on the fact that she was here for her brother, not for unresolved heartache or awkward confrontations.

The paddock was a blur of activity as mechanics prepped cars and journalists buzzed around the drivers like bees to honey. She kept her head down, walking alongside her family until a sudden burst of laughter caught her attention.

She spotted a little girl running off in the paddock, too quick for her mother to catch. Instinctively, she reached out, stopping her in her tracks before she could get lost in the crowd. "Where do you think you’re going, pequeñita?" she teased, crouching to her level and catching the kid by the hand.

The girl looked up at her with wide eyes, momentarily surprised before breaking into a shy smile. "There is Maxie," she murmured, pointing toward the Red-Bull garage.

(Y/N)’s breath hitched. Kelly Piquet stood just a few steps away, radiating elegance. Her long dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, this kid must be Penelope, the little girl twirled gleefully in a dress that sparkled under the sun.

Kelly hurried over, her expression grateful. "Thank you so much," she said breathlessly. "She’s always running off." 

Now that Kelly was closer she could see it clearly—the subtle swell of her stomach, the unmistakable glow.

(Y/N) knelt down to Penelope’s level, smoothing the girl's dress. "You have to stay close to your mamá, okay?"

Penelope nodded solemnly before scurrying back to Kelly’s side.

Kelly's smile faltered for a brief second, replaced by an awkward but sincere expression. "It’s good to meet you, (Y/N)." She had seen countless pictures of Max ex girlfriend on his socials.

There was no malice in her tone, only genuine warmth. (Y/N)´s chest tightened, but there was no hatred, no resentment. Kelly had done nothing wrong. If anything, she had been the one Max had chosen

She forced a smile. "Congratulations," she said, gesturing subtly to Kelly’s visibly pregnant belly. "I hope everything goes well."

Kelly's hand rested protectively on her bump. "Thank you. That means a lot."

There was a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken complexities. Kelly opened her mouth as if to say something more but seemed to think better of it.

Moving on was supposed to be the goal. (Y/N) just hadn’t expected how much it would hurt. She excused herself quickly with a subtle nod as she felt the edges of her anxiety creeping in.

φ

The paddock hummed with electric energy as preparations for the final race intensified. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cling to the humid desert air. (Y/N) stood on the fringes of the chaos, stumbling toward the back of a garage, away from the bustling crowds, her breath shallow and erratic. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a relentless drumbeat fueled by the weight of what she'd seen—Kelly's pregnant silhouette and Penelope's innocent laughter still echoing in her mind.

Her vision blurred, the sounds around her distorting as panic clawed at her throat.

She stumbled backward, Her chest heaved as she gripped the railing behind her, desperately fighting to ground herself. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, shallow and frantic.

"Hey."

The familiar British accent almost pulled her from the brink. Lando Norris stood a few feet away, concern etched across his face.

"You need to breathe, Darling." The voice was calm but insistent, cutting through the fog threatening to consume her.

He was now next to her, his blue eyes steady as they locked onto hers. He reached for her hand, not touching her yet but holding it within reach, offering reassurance without pressure.

"Look at me," he instructed gently. "We're going to do this together, okay?"

She gave a faint nod, her chest still tight.

"Tell me five things you can see right now," he urged.

(Y/N) blinked, trying to focus. "The... railing. The tires. Your papaya shoes. The garage entrance. And... the sky."

"Good," he praised softly. "Four things you can feel."

"My heart racing," she admitted shakily. "The metal of the railing... the heat... and your hand close to mine."

His lips quirked into a soft smile. "Three things you can hear."

"The engines. People talking. Your voice."

"Two things you can smell."

"Gasoline and... something clean, maybe soap?"

"That's me," he teased lightly. "One thing you can taste?"

"My own panic," she admitted bitterly, but a hint of humor broke through.

"How about hope?" he suggested, squeezing her hand lightly. "That tastes better."

A reluctant laugh escaped her, easing some of the tension coiled in her chest. Her breathing steadied, the weight lifting bit by bit.

"Better?" he asked, concern still lacing his tone.

"Yeah," she breathed, straightening up. "Thank you."

"Always," he assured her.

Silence hung between them for a moment before Lando leaned casually against the railing beside her, his playful demeanor returning.

"Y'know," he began, "I'm trying not to freak out about this race, but if Ferrari wins, they'll take the constructors’ title. If we win, it's ours. So no pressure or anything."

She arched her brow, grateful for the distraction. "Is that your way of saying you're nervous?"

"Terrified," he admitted with a grin. "But don't tell anyone. Gotta keep up appearances."

They shared a laugh again before the atmosphere shifted, turning serious once more.

"You okay?" he asked gently, stepping closer.

She nodded, though it was a lie. "Just needed air."

Lando's brow furrowed. "You're a terrible liar."

She let out a shaky laugh. "I know."

He didn't press further, simply stood beside her in comfortable silence. The weight of his presence was strangely comforting, steadying her frayed nerves.

"You wanna talk about it?" he offered after a moment.

She sighed. "It's just... everything. Seeing Kelly, knowing she's pregnant. It just brought back all the stuff I thought I'd moved past."

Lando's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice soft. "You're allowed to feel that way. Doesn't make you weak."

"I hate that it still hurts," she admitted quietly.

He tilted his head, his blue eyes earnest. "That's 'cause you loved him. Real love doesn't just vanish, even when it should."

(Y/N) met his gaze, surprised by the raw understanding in his tone. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"Been hanging around a lot of emotionally stunted people," he teased, lightening the mood. "Had to learn something."

She smiled softly. "You're an excellent driver, Lando. If anyone can do it, it's you."

"High praise coming from a Sainz," he quipped, giving in to her change of topics.

She laughed. "Don't tell Carlos, but I'll be rooting for you. Either way, one of my brothers will win."

Lando's playful grin faltered, replaced by something more serious. His gaze darkened with an intensity that made her heart skip.

"I'm not your brother, (Y/N)" he said quietly, his voice low but resolute. "I've never been able to see you that way. Not since the moment I met you."

Her breath caught, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. His confession was unspoken yet undeniable, etched into the very fabric of the moment.

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flickering with vulnerability. "You've always been more to me. The woman I look for in every room, even when I know I shouldn't. And yeah, maybe that's selfish or stupid, but it's the truth."

(Y/)'s heart raced, caught off guard by the confession.

"Lando..." she whispered, unsure of what to say.

He held up a hand. "I’m not saying this to make things harder for you. Just... I needed you to know."

Ocean blue eyes met her deep ones, clashing and melding with unspoken emotions and for a moment, the world faded around them.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted honestly.

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "Just know I'm here. Always."

The sincerity in his voice warmed something inside her that had long been cold

He smiled faintly, a mix of vulnerability and confidence. "We'll talk after the race."

"Thank you," she whispered. Though she didn´t know what she was thanking him for. The support? His help with the panic attack? The sincerity in his confession?

Lando smiled softly. "Anytime, Darling."

With that, he turned and walked away toward the Mclaren garage, leaving her standing there, stunned and breathless.

The race was a blur of adrenaline and tension. Carlos drove with everything he had, determined to leave Ferrari on a high note. (Y/N) watched from the garage, her heart in her throat as the laps dwindled down.

When the checkered flag waved, it was Lando who took the victory, with Carlos following closely in second, earning a podium finish in his final race with Ferrari. Charles managed third completing the last step at the podium.

The celebration was wild, but and as she made her way to the podium, (Y/N) found herself wandering, lost in thought.

She almost didn’t see him until it was too late.

Max stood under the dim glow of the paddock lights, his expression unreadable.

"(Y/N)."

Her heart clenched painfully at the sound of his voice. No Schatje. Just her name.

She steeled herself, meeting his gaze head-on. "Max."

There was a beat of silence, heavy with everything unsaid.

"I need to talk to you," he began, his voice rough. "I messed up. I should've stopped you that night in Hungary. I should've fought for you."

(Y/N)'s throat tightened. "But you didn't," The anger she had been suppressing for months finally boiled over. "Did those eight years mean nothing to you?" Her voice trembled, but she held her ground. "Or was it just that you were finally ready for commitment—just not with me?"

Max’s jaw tightened. "They meant everything, (Y/N). I made a mistake."

"A mistake?" she scoffed. "You had sex with Kelly, and now she’s pregnant. That’s not a mistake, Max. That’s a consequence."

He nodded, guilt etched into his features. "I know I made it worse. I didn't mean for any of it to happen."

"You have a baby on the way," she said quietly, the weight of that reality sinking in.

Max's voice cracked. "I wanted that with you. Always with you."

Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. "It doesn't matter anymore.” 

His shoulders tensed, pain and panic flickering across his face. "I know, I have to take responsibility now."

"Then do that. Be better for them than you ever were for me. But don’t stand here and act like this conversation changes anything between us. It doesn’t." Her voice wavered, but her resolve didn’t. “You can't call your child a mistake, Max. And you can't make the same mistakes with Kelly and your new family.”

His expression shattered. "Schatje—"

"No," she cut him off, her voice firm. "I loved you. And maybe I always will. But we are done. For good. And that's okay. I need to move on, and so do you."

The finality in her words hung between them, bittersweet and liberating.

She didn’t wait for a response. Without another word, she turned and walked away, her heart lighter despite the ache that lingered, leaving him with nothing but the words that should have been said long before now. 

φ

The podium ceremony was a chaotic blur. The noise was deafening as the celebrations reached their peak. Confetti rained down in shimmering bursts of red, green, and gold, swirling through the night air under the harsh lights. The drivers stood triumphant, champagne bottles in hand, grins stretched wide across their faces.

(Y/N) stood at the edge of the chaos with her family, watching Carlos bask in his well-earned final moment with Ferrari and cheering loudly for him. Her heart swelled with pride, the weight she'd carried for weeks finally dissipating into the night air. The conversation with Max had hurt, but it had given her what she needed—closure.

She breathed in deeply, savoring the freedom that came with letting go. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Laughter echoed from the podium as the drivers sprayed each other with champagne, their suits drenched and sticky with victory. 

Just as she let out a slow breath, a movement from the podium caught her eye. One of the drivers that shared the Podium with Carlos glanced down at her from the elevated platform, bright eyes catching hers amidst the chaos.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his handsome face. He winked, then pointed at the gleaming trophy in his hand and back at her, a playful challenge written in his expression.

(Y/N)'s lips parted in surprise before a laugh escaped her, light and genuine. "Oh, God," she whispered to herself, shaking her head. 

A familiar face. A new complication.

Well, that was a problem for another day.

For now, she let herself revel in the joy of the moment, the weight of the past finally behind her.

For now, she was free.

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

A/N 2: We reached the end of this Series. Who was the Driver winking at (Y/N) at the end, Lando or Charles?. Anyway that is a story for another day. Thank you if you stayed until this part, this is my first story that I post so it's very special for me. I hope you enjoyed it. What do you think?

Lando's Ending | Charles' Ending

Love you. -Xim

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 8 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.1k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, mentions of food, so much violence. like so much y'all but it's Canon-typical violence, references to (quirk) supremacist views, a (somewhat) graphic depiction of mental health issues

a/n. the content of this chapter is one of the reasons why i almost didn't start this series in the first place. as it turns out, action scenes are deceptively difficult to write—i struggled at first, but i eventually got into the groove of things and found it so fun! so much shit will go down, and i hope you find yourselves at the edge of your seats while reading this <3 please, please let me know what you think and don't be a stranger! enjoy :')

links. masterlist, ao3

You shoot up at the blaring sound of the alarm clock.

You scramble to reach and turn it off where it stands on the nightstand—quickly, before it wakes Bakugou up—a sigh of relief wracking your body when you manage to do so, a sudden stillness instantly enveloping the room.

That relief doesn’t last very long, though, because you’re once again shot with panic when you look up toward the foot of the bed, only to see the man himself already standing in front of it—fully awake.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, clutching your chest, “You scared me.”

“It’s too early to be this scared, princess,” is his pointed retort, a small hint of teasing underlying his tone. You shoot him a pained smile but don’t say anything back, not finding the courage within you to admit that your hands may or may not be already shaking in anticipatory anxiety.

Instead, you watch him as he does mobility stretches in place, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth as he warms up his joints and rotates his limbs. He invites you to join him a moment after, and you do, if not in an attempt to ground yourself then in preparation for any physical combat that may ensue later on.

Not much is said between the two of you as you go on to prepare for the day, maneuvering silently within his bedroom and taking turns in the bathroom. He lets you get changed first, and you shimmy yourself in your most comfortable office clothes, finding almost immediately that describing them as ‘comfortable’ might be a stretch. Least suffocating, maybe—but the instructions were clear that you had to look the part, at least so that you could get past the guards and enter the building.

Apparently, you need to infiltrate the place organically to buy you as much time to position yourselves without raising suspicion. Mystically showing up on the premises with a man who will vanish not a moment later wouldn’t exactly be a common sight for the employees manning the CCTVs.

Well, then. You guess your long-sleeved blouse, slacks, and regrettably heeled shoes will have to do.

Not even five minutes after you step out of the restroom so he can get dressed himself, Bakugou emerges in a similarly dark, wrist-length shirt and trousers, and you’re about to comment on this unfamiliar yet…welcome sight when your eyes catch his notoriously unruly head of hair—magically pushed back, revealing his forehead.

Now, of all the things that strangely popped into your mind upon seeing him—handsome definitely wasn’t one of them—what you end up blurting is: “How the hell did you style it that fast?”

“Huh?” he responds absentmindedly, fiddling with his sleeves as he seats himself on the edge of the bed opposite from you. “Style what?”

You gesture towards his head. “Your hair. Hasn’t it always been a little hard to control?”

Folding his sleeves right up to his forearm, he then turns to face you, a borderline sheepish expression etched on his features. “’s some extra strong gel. Best Jeanist gifted it to me for my birthday.”

Ah.

“Yeah, well, it suits you,” you offer honestly, averting your gaze just as you think he is about to flash you a smirk. And before he can say anything: “I’m guessing you’re ditching the gauntlets for today?”

He nods, although he’s suddenly looking far from pleased. “No choice,” he intones, “My firepower will take a hit, but I can still get by without them.”

“Enough to kick some ass?”

A grin. “Always.”

You let Bakugou’s well-earned confidence infect you as you finish getting ready together, stuffing your respective bags with things you can let go of in case they get caught up in the fight, before finally walking out of your little sanctuary and into the living room. The twins are on you in an instant, installing your trackers on your chests where they’ve since taken residence for the past two weeks, pulling away without a single word afterward. You mutter a quick thanks, before walking toward Bakugou on the couch and asking him what he wants for breakfast.

“Something light,” is his answer. “Don’t wanna be bogged down by a heavy stomach.”

You end up getting him french toast with a protein shake—whether or not that was light for a man his size, you have no idea—while ordering a croissant and iced tea for yourself. You don’t bother asking the twins if they want to get something as well—opting to just get them breakfast sandwiches and coffee instead. You heard a stomach grumble just a few minutes ago—and it definitely wasn’t yours or Bakugou’s.

The food arrives just as quickly as it did the night prior, and you waste no time digging in. To your pleasant surprise, the twins accept the offering, albeit too begrudgingly for your taste. Maybe letting them starve was the smarter move for today’s final mission, but as you watch them scarf everything down in a matter of minutes, you decide that that’s a trade-off you’re willing to overcompensate for.

By the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up, it’s a few minutes before 6 AM, and you resolve that as far as D-Days are concerned, the start of this one is going swimmingly well.

Right up to the moment Kouki materializes and grabs Bakugou’s wrist but not yours.

“Change of plans.”

At that, you instantly freeze just as Bakugou barks: “The fuck do you mean change of plans?”

That doesn’t seem to faze the teleporter, who instead regards the pro-hero with a stern, almost chastising look. “You’re needed in one of the schools. You’re coming with me.”

Somehow, you snap out of it. “But you said—”

“It’s a direct order,” he spews, now looking at you with such intensity that has your blood turning cold. “One that you have to follow. Unless…”

“Unless, what?” growls Bakugou.

He smiles. “Unless you want us to call off the entire operation and teleport where you can’t find us.”

Fuck.

Beside you, Bakugou must be thinking the exact same thing, because he suddenly goes quiet.

Kouki harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”

Neither Bakugou nor you say anything else in protest after that, acutely aware of the gamble that has to be made.

It’s clear as day: either you follow the order and divide and possibly conquer, or resist and lose them altogether.

Perhaps for good.

Armed with the explosives Bakugou made himself, no less.

You chance a glance at the pro-hero, and the impassive look on his face is enough to tell you what he’s decided on.

You’re running out of time and you also need to say something, you know that. Otherwise, he’s going to think there’s something more important to the two of you than seeing the operation you’ve been devotedly ‘working on’ to fruition.

Something beyond just two lovers ensuring each other’s safety.

Forcing yourself to meet Kouki’s steely gaze, you finally relent and nod. “How’s the rest of us gonna get to our post, then?”

“I’ll come back right after I teleport him,” comes his speedy answer, seemingly satisfied with your newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you three to where Masaki is waiting near the Prime Minister’s Office.”

“He’s already there?” you can’t help but ask, suddenly nervous at the mention of the kingpin.

You still don’t know his quirk.

“Yes, and he mustn’t be kept waiting,” Kouki says cuttingly, before turning to regard Bakugou, whose wrist he’s still holding. “We’ve to get going.”

“Alright,” the pro-hero grits out, shrugging off the man’s hold, “Just—give me a sec.”

For a second, you think he’s going to head to the restroom to pee before the ‘mission’ starts, but then he’s stepping towards you, and you barely manage to stop yourself from tilting away when he leans into your space, immediately followed by a firm grip on your shoulders. Despite yourself, you gulp.

Bakugou lets out a long exhale. He’s not looking at you—you note—gaze directed towards the floor. You decide then and there that you don’t like seeing him like this.

Like he’s actually…scared.

“Hey,” you whisper, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You almost stumble at the sheer intensity of them.

Almost.

In spite of that—and you don’t know how you do it—you manage to smile at him, as genuinely as you can.

“What are you so worried about?” you tease, voice soft enough for just him to hear. “I’ll be okay.”

To your dismay, that doesn’t make Bakugou laugh—countenance still grim—but his features do soften. So minutely, the change is almost imperceptible—but it’s there.

“How can you be so sure?” he actually whispers back.

That makes you grin, the answer already at the tip of your tongue.

“Because you don’t date losers.”

Now, at your quip, you expected him to at least smile. Maybe chuckle, if that punchline came out funnier than you intended it to.

But what you absolutely didn’t expect was for him to grab you by the neck and pull you into a kiss.

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, body rigid in utter surprise, but you eventually relax into his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso as he deepens the kiss. A few more seconds pass by with your lips interlocked before he finally pulls away, face flushed and a little out of breath.

“Be careful,” he eventually gets out a beat later, and you nod, suddenly hyperaware of the three pairs of eyes watching you.

Kouki’s especially.

“You, too,” you call out to Bakugou as he lets go and returns to the spot beside Kouki, who once again takes his gauntlet-less wrist.

“We’ll be off, then,” the old man announces, and just like that, they’re gone.

Kouki returns—alone—in record time, an inexplicable expression written on his face. You debate whether or not to ask him how things are at Bakugou’s location, ultimately deciding against it when the man impatiently beckons you to move. You promptly approach and hold onto him just as the twins adjust their portkeys without much complaint, all the while trying to ignore the churning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

The borderline nauseating feeling doesn’t get any better as you get whisked away from Bakugou’s apartment unit in a matter of seconds, suddenly finding yourself sat as you emerge in what you think is an SUV—judging by the size of its interior. You squirm in your seat—too caught up in the discomfort of being squished between Kouki and Omiru in the back—to notice it.

But then you look up, and when you do, the churning from earlier stops and your stomach drops entirely.

From where he’s conveniently plastered in the driver’s seat, Masaki turns to fully face you, smiling.

Or at least you think he is, based solely on the upturn of his lips.

Because hiding his gaze is what seems to be hardened, high-tech goggles.

Goggles that completely block your view of his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You vaguely register Masaki thanking Kouki for bringing the three of you to him, and you think Kouki must’ve teleported away judging from the faint swell in wiggle room at your sides. But you couldn’t recall when that was exactly, and this very thought sends another shot of panic through you, the taste of bile now blooming in your throat.

You know what you have to do.

Clenching your eyes closed, you center your attention on the primary emotion you’re feeling—fear, unmistakable fear—and pull.

Instantly, you feel your facial muscles relax, cautious enough to let the change appear slowly—both in your face and in your frame.

The last thing you need is to inadvertently confirm any suspicion about your quirk.

Even if it means using a huge chunk of today’s reservoir on yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, and you’re once again met with the sight of Masaki, whose torso is now turned towards you.

Shit.

You scramble for something to say.

“I-isn’t it a bit too early?” you ask, averting your gaze toward the car window. “Is the Prime Minister even around at this hour?”

You don’t get to see Masaki’s reaction to your sudden question—you wouldn’t be able to study his eyes anyway—but you hear him shuffle in his seat, turning back to face forward. “Yes, he’s expecting a visitor.”

A million questions come up in your head—how he even knows that information is one of them—but what you end up asking is: “How about the rest?”

That must’ve been the right query to ask, because Masaki hums in what you think is approval. “People will be there, Y/N. When the Prime Minister’s around, most of the employees are expected to be present.”

You guess that makes sense.

You don’t say anything else after that, opting to peer at Masaki through the rearview mirror instead. To your surprise, he shifts his head towards the very same mirror, and you’re almost sure he’s looking straight back at you.

He smiles again. This time, a little too knowingly.

“Is there something—” he starts, before trailing off and pointing to his eyepiece. “Oh, this?”

You bristle. Still, you feign ignorance. “Huh?”

“You seem to have been staring at my glasses.”

You let your brows furrow, as if in confusion. “I…don’t think I was?”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” Omiru suddenly spits at you from the side, and you startle.

“What the—”

“Now, now, Omiru,” scolds Masaki with that placating tone of his. “Y/N might’ve been lying to us but we still have a mission to finish.”

You blanch. “Lying?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” comes the leader’s quiet response, who’s watching the scene unfold behind him through the mirror. “It’s a pity our surveillance men took so long to notice, how you had us acting strangely, that day we met.”

Masaki cocks his head to the side, before: “Your quirk works via eye contact, doesn’t it?”

You stiffen.

“Thought so,” he concludes, and you bite back the urge to close your eyes in defeat. It’s too early to give up.

“Don’t worry, though,” he adds on after a beat, finally bringing the engine to life. “Nothing will happen as long as you cooperate and use luck when I tell you to.”

…Luck.

Did he just say luck?

Your eyes must’ve widened a bit at what he just said, because he continues. “Ah, Bakugou?” he asks, and suddenly you’re hit with the guilt of not thinking about the pro-hero.

Especially when he says the next thing.

“Like I said,” Masaki drawls, “As long as you cooperate, no one gets harmed.”

A pause.

“Even him.”

Your question gets answered as soon as you stop at the guard house.

Masaki’s quick to take off the goggles before rolling down his window, greeting the primary security guard with such innocence you definitely couldn’t have guessed he was on his way to an assassination if you based on just the encounter alone.

The guard flashes him an easy grin as he greets back, before bringing the walkie-talkie that’s velcroed on his shoulder closer to his mouth. “Masaki Kento of the Korean Consulate, heading towards Building C. I repeat, Masaki Kento to Building C.”

A bunch of static emanates from the device, immediately followed by a robotic voice. “Copy that. Let him in.”

At that, Masaki salutes him a thanks, which the guard returns fervently. You don’t even get to catch a glimpse of the former’s eyes before he’s got the window up and the eyepiece swiftly back on his face.

“Let me guess,” you pipe up as Masaki rounds a curb and drives more slowly as you enter the grounds, “You’re a consul and these two are your domestic bodyguards.”

“Yes,” Masaki readily confirms, “That is correct.”

That explains why he’s almost never present in the headquarters.

“Huh,” is the only thing you can muster, focus now trained on any human that you pass by.

The less they are in number, the better—is what Bakugou said. So far, most if not all of them are decked out in attire guards would normally wear, which you think isn’t much of an unfamiliar sight in this estate.

Eventually, you arrive at the front of what you believe is Building C, stepping out of the vehicle with your handbag in tow a moment later, smoothing the crinkled lines of your slacks. You pretend not to pay attention as an again bare-faced Masaki hands over the keys to the valet, who is off with the vehicle in seconds to what he said was the multi-story car park.

You don’t dare utter a word as you trail behind the man carrying a bulky briefcase you’re positive contains nothing but bombs, with the twins walking in step behind you. You keep your eyes fixed on the staircase as you do, painfully aware of how your nerves are coming back alive, and this time, somewhat more fiercely than before.

You know better than to waste another ounce of your quirk on yourself, though.

And so with ragged breath, you trudge on with anxiety creeping back up your spine, up until you’re met with another guard at the entrance, who makes a quick work of identifying the four of you. You’re introduced as Masaki’s new personal assistant, while the others just reiterate their established titles. The guard then grants you entry, but not before instructing you to register your name at the reception desk.

Masaki thanks the man on your behalf, and then finally—you enter.

The second that you do, though, you can tell something’s wrong.

For one, right behind the desk that you were ordered to approach, was nobody. Not one receptionist.

Nor are there janitors, guests, employees, or anyone that could possibly be in the Prime Minister’s Office at this hour.

Masaki, who just put on the goggles again, must have thought the same thing, because you catch him physically tensing, like this wasn’t part of the plan.

You’re about to ask him—genuinely—why the place seems to be deserted, when it happens.

Something fast lurches from the shadows in your peripheral vision, and you stumble back just in time to see Hiroto slammed to the ground by no other than Kirishima.

The male twin lets out a yelp in pain as the hardened hero wrestles him in his grip, all at the same time as a long string of tape suddenly fills your vision. You look up, and sure enough, there’s Sero swinging right into Omiru foot first, hitting the woman square in the jaw. She staggers violently backward, right into you—but the collision doesn’t happen, because a hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere and you’re pulled to the side.

A tidal wave of relief washes over you as you let yourself get forcefully dragged, but it’s instantly replaced with terror when you look up to see Masaki’s backside instead. From a distance, you hear Kirishima’s voice call out your name, and it snaps you out of your fear-driven trance. Renewed with unbridled strength, you put as much of your weight as you can on your soles and try to wrangle your hand out of his grip, but it’s too strong.

Masaki manages to haul you toward the end of the hallway, throwing you right into an elevator and punching the close button before you can pick yourself back up on your feet. You barely see him pressing the top-most floor before he turns around and grabs you by the shoulders, pinning you hard against the wall.

“You told them about us, didn’t you,” he seethes, manic, but you don’t dare say anything. At your silence, he lifts you a breadth’s hair away from the surface only to slam you back against it. You can’t help it—this time, you cry, a sharp pain sent straight to your back.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you’re just about to knee him in the balls when the elevator dings. You wait for Masaki to get distracted and look away so you can deliver the blow, but it doesn’t happen. His gaze seemingly remains fixed on yours even as he lugs the two of you out of the box, grip unrelenting as he approaches the nearest fire alarm device, smashing the glass before pulling down the lever.

Almost instantaneously, tens of alarms ring out not just on your floor but on the ones below you, and you can only watch in horror as the numbers on top of the elevators freeze.

“Kouki,” Masaki rasps into his earpiece, his two hands busy holding you at arm’s length. “Kouki, do you copy?”

You growl, a surge of indignation washing over your entire body at him blatantly ignoring you. You extend your leg from underneath in an attempt to trip and then pin him down, but he takes notice in the nick of time and staves off your attack.

“Kouki,” he tries again, even as you manage to ram a punch into his stomach, “Answer me!”

You grit your teeth, feeling your limbs quaking as you fight to fend off his grip. Still, your mind wanders as to why he’s calling Kouki now, of all times.

What, so he can teleport him and the twins out of here?

But then he speaks again, and you see crimson red.

“Kouki, kill him now!”

Your body moves before your brain can think—you throw yourself onto Masaki and grab him by the neck. He stumbles backward until he collapses and his back hits the floor, and you take that as an opportunity to immediately straddle him, increasing the pressure on your chokehold. He splutters for a bit, arms flailing and scratching at you, but before you can even think about trying to rip off his eyepiece and potentially taking the upper hand—at least until Kirishima and the rest arrive—he rolls over and has got you pinned under his weight in seconds. He pulls the same move and roughly wraps his hands around your neck, instantly cutting off the air to your lungs. You wheeze, and yet you still struggle even as you feel the last bits of oxygen die out.

He grins at you, and one look at the man’s face tells you he’s gone mad. “You’re on the wrong side of history, Y/N.”

Great, you think to yourself. Those can’t be the last fucking words you hear before you die.

You make one last attempt at seizing his wrist off of you, but—just like many other things in the past five minutes—that doesn’t get to happen, because something flashes in the corner of your eye—so quickly you think you must’ve imagined it. You squint, and in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have, because, in the second that you do, Masaki is kicked off of your body and slammed straight into the far wall.

Shellshocked, you crawl backward with your forearms as fast as you can, not knowing what the fuck just happened.

But that’s when you see him.

You can only watch in disbelief as Bakugou propels himself across the room in a matter of a millisecond, towering over Masaki’s body instantaneously. “Get back!” Bakugou shouts, and it takes you a beat to realize that he’s talking to you.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the little, remaining strength you can muster, you manage to stand back up and hobble towards the corner of the room, farthest from where the two are currently engaging in a fistfight.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Masaki’s holding up better than you expected him to, and the very same realization must’ve dawned on Bakugou, because the pro-hero swiftly switches gears and starts detonating small explosions toward the man’s direction.

But then the weirdest thing happens.

Instead of being hit by Bakugou’s blasts, Masaki absorbs them—right where the combustions meet his body—

And then, in the blink of an eye, releases it—almost twice in size—straight into Bakugou.

You hear the pro-hero curse just as he barely manages to dodge the hit. The discharge reaches the wall, leaving scorched marks and massive craters on the surface.

This is bad.

And you don’t even have to look at Bakugou to know that.

Still, the pro-hero presses on, and you stand there—restless—as the fight resumes in front of you. Bakugou’s stopped using his quirk to attack altogether, only using it to expertly maneuver himself in the air. Masaki’s fending off the strikes well enough, even landing a few hits here and there. You try to hold eye contact with him—but it’s no use. He’s still wearing the goggles, and you’ve studied them long enough this morning to be fairly sure that it’ll take more than just a perfect kick to the head to have it taken off.

That’s when it dawns on you.

You can’t manipulate Masaki. That’s for sure.

But you can manipulate Bakugou, who—based on what you can see—is becoming more and more frantic by the minute.

No fucking time to hesitate.

“Bakugou!” you shout, and the man doesn’t even glance in your direction, only shouting back: “What?!”

“Look at me!” you yell, pupils darting in record speed as you follow Bakugou’s volatile line of vision. You weren’t about to miss him when he does.

He doesn’t question your request, but he doesn’t immediately look at you either, too wrapped up in hitting Masaki and not getting hit back.

But then Masaki’s suddenly got him pinned against the wall across you, and you find yourself immediately face to face with him. You scream, “Now!”

Exactly right on cue, Bakugou’s gaze drifts from Masaki’s face to yours, and when you lock eyes, you pull.

Manic adrenaline to laser-sharp acuity.

Acuity that he’s always had since you met him in high school.

As hard as you fucking can—and with all that you have left—you pull.

And just like that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes. You can only watch as the metaphorical gears in his head seem to come alive and shift—just as he throws Masaki off of him with unmatched force.

But then he does the unimaginable.

He starts bombarding the man with explosions—one blast after another, not allowing him the chance to even sit up and shield himself—and you stare in outright shock as Masaki’s body glows redder and redder.

Just as you think Bakugou’s completely lost his mind with the series of attacks, he launches himself from the wall and dives into Masaki, grabbing the man’s arm, tugging him to the nearest door with one hand and yanking the slab of wood open with the other.

And only as Bakugou throws Masaki into what you think is a janitor’s closet and locks the door behind him does it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Come on!” Bakugo shouts at you as he presses his entire weight against the door—the door that Masaki’s desperately trying to get through. “Help me lock him in!”

You look around the room for something you can use, your eyes immediately landing on a chair and a moderately-heavy-looking desk. You waste no time grabbing the two pieces of furniture and hauling them toward Bakugou as fast as you can. Taking the chair first, you tilt it by the backrest and lodge it underneath the doorknob until it’s secure enough. You then hurriedly drag the desk to the other side and slide it in front of the door, just as Bakugou propels himself upward and out of the way.

You don’t get to do anything else before Bakugou snatches you by your waist and boosts the two of you toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, smashing against them shoulder-first. You hold onto him for dear life, wincing at the impact even though Bakugou took most of it.

And you’re glad you did everything the way you just did—because not even a second later, the explosion finally goes off—an eruption so massive that you’re both thrown forward from the sheer magnitude alone, the sound of shattering windows and crumbling walls booming in the background. Bakugou loses his balance for a second and you shriek, but he manages to get back into thrusting you into the air with his detonations, carrying you securely in his arms until you reach the ground, gently letting go of you when you do.

The moment your toes touch the concrete floor, though, you’re quick to jump on your feet and hobble away from him.

“Hey—”

Quickly, you tell yourself as you feel the tell-tale pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes. Before it’s too late.

But you don’t get to go far enough because Bakugou grabs your wrist, spinning you to look at him. “The fuck do you think you’re go—”

He cuts himself off, the scowl that was just carved on his features instantly falling when he sees your face. “Are you—crying?”

“N-no,” you choke out, although you know it’s no use denying it. You’re already feeling the all-too-familiar closing-in sensation that comes with you overextending yourself.

“Yes, you are, dumbass,” Bakugou retorts, before bringing up his other hand to lightly touch your cheek. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

At the contact, you clench your eyes closed, fighting down the urge to whimper at the steadily increasing pace at which your heart is irregularly racing.

There’s no doubt about it.

It’s now flooding you—the terror that you’ve secretly been tamping down with your own quirk this entire mission—but especially today.

“Fuck—” you warble, and now you’re sure.

You’re having an anxiety attack.

It all happens in a blur—your brain too muddled with palpable fear to keep track of everything around you—but you vaguely register Bakugou wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he tried to guide your erratic breathing with his.

You remember shaking violently in his hold, gasping for air and barely managing to will yourself to breathe normally as an undercurrent of dizziness coursed through your veins.

You recall sweating bullets but being cold to the touch, and Bakugou ripping out one of his sleeves to use to wipe away your perspiration. It didn’t really help.

And you don’t know how much time passes with you fighting the nausea on top of everything, even as you heard the distant sound of police sirens, but it does—it somehow does—eventually and strangely finding yourself carried away home.

Home to Bakugou’s.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[sphireath-wisp]

#Backstage Pass!

Synopsis -> What an electrifying performance, it was worth all that money and time waiting. It was so good that you wanted an encore - in private, with less talking and more action.

Warnings -> Not proofread, all aged up, suggestive, language, Rin is objectively sweeter than Sae and Kaiser, mean Sae and Kaiser

Featuring -> Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi x F! Reader

"Oh, of course, you like MICHAEL KAISER, of all people," You force a sarcastic smirk, eyebrows creasing as if you eye her up and down as if you were judging her for some sort of malefaction. Honestly speaking, you should have foreseen this. You're the one who wants to go to the concert; you dragged your friend along so it wouldn't be a solo trip, but she's developed a liking for the blonde boy. He's the playboy type who goes on stage shirtless, flaunting the ink adorning his skin. Even when he makes the gracious decision to wear a solid-coloured tank top, it doesn't take away any attention from the prominent cerulean rose blooming on his throat. Her blase favouritism of Kaiser was nothing new.

Beneath the charisma - so lamentable, it was laudable, Kaiser had an ego that reached for the stars. But it was his solipsism that made him such a star, an unbreakable confidence that shined even brighter as he played. It's unusual for a bassist to get so much attention in a band, but everything was absurd about Kaiser in the first place. And the worst part is: he had the skill to back it up, every single shit-eating grin.

"An encore?" You watch Kaiser mouth out to the audience, and the crowd goes wild - especially the fans with the tips of their hair dyed a gaudy blue. Your friend shakes you back and forth, spilling a mix of 'thank yous' and 'ohmygosh' past her lips. His grin only grows wider as he hears the crowd cheer, almost expectantly, like the crowd was supposed to meet his expectations.

"You have a backstage pass, right? Do you think I could snatch his number?" Your friend nudges you, readily waiting for a supportive response. You hum - pretending to think so you wouldn't have to turn her down so flatly. "He's kissed fans before, so you'll need to try your luck, yeah?" You give your friend a comforting pat on the back, but you're the one who needs to reassure yourself, "Anyway, he's just eye candy, right?" She nods insouciantly: after all, it's not like they know each other.

When you see her soothing smile, for a split second, you wonder if you're being too critical of Kaiser. Your friend seems to enjoy the concert, maybe this has created common ground for you and her to bond. This smug bastard and his god-given charm may actually be a blessing in disguise.

"Don't you know how to swallow? You're drooling," You soon learn that you're a good judge of character when Kaiser forces his thumb into your mouth. You realize that your gut has always been right, and you can't decipher whether the uncomfortable churning in your stomach is due to butterflies or the sickening taste of nail polish on your tongue. Gosh, you feel like an idiot for doubting yourself and, most of all, doubting how much of a bastard he can be. Kaiser pulls you closer on his lap as if he couldn't get enough of your Carolina Herrera, and palms the swell of your ass when you scrape your teeth over his knuckle.

Your nails, freshly coated in a shade of rose that disgustingly reminds him more of that keyboardist than himself, scratch his forearm on their way up to his clavicle, leaving a trail of hot fire in their wake. Your raspberry-flushed skin matches his, especially when your fingers - more suited for loving than burning - wrap around the expanse of his neck and threaten to crush his airways. His fingers are out of your mouth, and his breath is already lost before anything has begun; you're starting to see the appeal in womanizers when his half-lidded eyes - glossy and lovestruck - stare with a shimmer that rivals stars.

"Didn't expect to find a beauty like you in the crowd, but you were giving me such a dirty look," His words are coated in honey, like flattering women is second nature for him. Your grip unconsciously loosens at his praise, and he uses his newfound leeway to capture your lips in his. He smells like Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, rum rubs off your sweat-slicked skin, and you swear you feel his teeth on your tongue when you press your chest against his.

His hands undo the clasp of your bra, and his tongue plays with the rest of your sanity. You swear to whoever's listening that you need another bottle of beer to wash this feeling of longing away because you're sure you're drunk on him. Kaiser's always been known to kiss his fans, but he kisses his haters even harder.

"SAE ITOSHI, apologize this instant!" Kaiser mimics their manager, arms crossed and voice in an ear-gratingly, squeaky high pitch. Almost condescendingly, he grabs the keyboardist by the hair and forces his gaze down - to the point where he's at a 90-degree bow. "How could you treat a young lady like that?!" He scoffs as Sae swats Kaiser's hand off of his hair, clicking his tongue, irritation crystalline clear.

"R-Really, it's okay...!" You try to get a word in, raising your hands awkwardly to try and ease the situation. Kaiser is dead set on humiliating Sae, though; he's planning to get a good laugh like the carefree narcissist he is. You have to visibly hold back your laughter, heaps of air gathering in your lungs, and it bubbles in your chest. Sae straightens himself out, clearing his throat as he looks down at you from on the stage. Hopping off the platform to get on your level, the only thing separating the both of you is the railing set up for crowd control (and the bodyguards), he lets out a deep sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get your shirt wet and... I hope I didn't ruin the performance for you," He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and cranes his neck to look away, not out of shame, though. Rather, Sae isn't sure where he's supposed to look. Your see-through white shirt is drenched, and the lacy black bra you have under is clear as day (though it is partially your fault for wearing black under white - Sae's gone through enough girlfriends to know that women are aware of these things, but he'll admit his faults and apologize anyway.) To be frank, he finds the event a blessing in disguise; you're gorgeous in lace, but he wouldn't say that aloud lest he be considered a pervert.

It was already past midnight, and the concert had ended, fans still stuck around to snag a photo with their favourite member, though. Seeing you at the front of the crowd (and the obvious 'accident' with your shirt), Kaiser caught him staring and decided to be a bigmouth. Swooping in like the playboy he is, he acted all righteous when he heard what happened and well... Sae Itoshi has his head bowed like a little boy apologizing to their mother.

"I'll make it up for you, yeah?" he states firmly, and the air shifts when you agree oh-so-sweetly. Ladies first, he would say, to avoid staring at your chest, but you could feel eyes glued to the mound of your ass from under your miniskirt.

He's making it up to you, alright, with his knee between your thighs. Long, slender fingers slip up your skirt, and the lacy black panties you have under make his star-etched pupils morph into hearts right before your lovestruck eyes. He's patient, he's graceful, and he's deft with every kiss to the point it makes you feel hungry. Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae plays on the radio, and he cages you onto the cushioned seats.

Your legs wrap around his waist like poison ivy, and there's sweet venom every time your collar is stained royal purple. His tongue dances on your skin, and it's even more mind-numbing when his tongue traces yours. With a gasp, or a squeal, or maybe a mix of both, you wonder how long it's been and why he's torturing you like this, and your eagerness tastes like honey to Sae.

Sae swears he's never met a girl so noisy before, but hell if he cares. He wouldn't mind if he met you after every performance, or if he snuck you into the studio to have you right there and then whenever that bastard Kaiser opens his mouth. Bleary-eyed and half-lidded, he thinks you look cute like this and, damn, his eyes weren't lying when you looked good in lace. He almost feels bad. You swear your skin feels like it's on fire, and he's your fuel. You breathe him like oxygen and he's as starved as you, he never knew what air felt like before you.

Sae's fingers, the ones that used to be so rough from playing the guitar with his little brother, the ones that have grown long from years of playing the keyboard, slip under the waistband of your lacy panties. He whispers apologies that he doesn't mean, and he swears to buy you another set as soon as possible. You don't care about his apology, you knew he was a half-hearted bastard the moment he blatantly ogled at you earlier. What's more important is the new set and this perverted idiot better give you another stress-relieving night for the trouble he's put you through! You know Sae Itoshi always keeps his promises.

RIN ITOSHI, the exceptional newbie in the band. Introduced as the 2nd electric guitarist, he hid his prior connections with Sae Itoshi to avoid accusations of being a mere product of nepotism. People had already acknowledged his skills by the time the truth spread. He didn't really catch your eye in terms of personality. He was as reclusive as his older brother but more vocal with his thoughts. If his brother had an "enigmatic" appeal to him, he would be "unapproachable".

"He's cute, isn't he?" Your friend playfully hums by the shell of your ear, and you shrug indifferently in response. Your gaze trawls through his black leather jacket, which looks like it was inherited from someone older, with its sleeves folded to the middle of his forearms. His stringed necklace dangles down to his electric guitar when he slouches, calloused fingers hovering over the strings. "Pretty good for someone new..." Your friend continues, her own eyes the furthest thing from chaste. Yet, instead of chiding her, you'll be the one apologizing sooner or later - you couldn't catch anything she said when Rin happened to glance up in your direction, no less. Coincidence or not, his tongue peeks out of his mouth, the pink muscle running over his lips.

Slim teal eyes narrow at you sharply when you don't look away immediately. You stare back as if you haven't sensed his annoyance and sheer arrogance, and you're utterly shameless about it too. As if mocking the guitarist, you stick your tongue out before openly running it over the canvas of your teeth.

You pass it off as flirting with no goal in mind, especially when his face scrunches up in belying disgust. It was nothing more than passive teasing, the kind of thing you'll dream about when the boys you know act stupid and the tension you'll crave when life gets dull. It's something you'll romanticize for the rest of your life until Rin Itoshi is muddled in a scandal, and you can't see anything attractive in those piercing eyes.

Well, you were half-right.

"Isn't your friend looking for you?" he half-mocks with a tone that makes you want to slap him stupid until the apple of his cheeks is as swollen as your cherry red lips. His mouth is as dirty as it tastes, and he doesn't know how to treat a woman at all. There's nothing remotely sweet about Rin, but the naivety blinding him - convincing him silently that he doesn't want this as bad as you do - is caramel on your tongue.

He's too young and dumb, your voice of reason echoes in the expanse of your skull, and you're sure he hasn't locked the door, but he's already kissed you silly. The black dressing room table feels a little shaky whenever his tongue slips into your mouth, or perhaps your whole world is shaking because of him. Your back crams against the mirror, and the warmth of the LED strips make your brain fuzzy. Eagerness and embarrassment conflict when he holds your waist, rough fingertips shyly slipping under the hem of your shirt and tapping against your skin as if asking for permission. His hesitation is evident when you pull away and the thought of upsetting you strangely eats him whole.

Your chest heaves up and down, off-beat from the temperamental percussion of your heart. "You're asking that now?" you manage out whilst guiding his curious hands further under your shirt, "Sweetheart, don't act like you're worried someone will catch us." Catching your breath, you yearn to lose it again as you lean forward for another round, the white quartz of his stringed necklace cold against your skin once he flips your shirt up.

You can't tell if the lights are flickering or if the flash of a camera has caught you so vulnerable, like putty and moulded into Rin's embrace. But, you don't care, and Rin seems to care even less with the way he whispers sticky sugar promises to buy you another Dior lip gloss and a new bag to boot. It'll be his first scandal if the paparazzi have caught the both of you, but you'll celebrate it with a bottle of champagne in the walls of his apartment, for sure.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @mikmwehehe

[covenofagatha]

i... wow. sorry if this is too vulgar; i was at the gym when you posted, and like you've psychologically conditioned me, my underwear became.. awfully sticky.. and remained that way the whole day (which i would send a picture if i fear it'd be too far) because i decided to save the read for when i reached home. I'm grateful i did, because despite being shorter than the rest of your works, it was, as always, a masterpiece :)

i hope your exam went well (not sure what timezone you're in, but here friday is basically over... so you've completed it in my book) and as a little prize, here's another tiny brainworm loosely inspired by my experience with your notification today:

desperate! perv! agatha who gets off to your voice, ft. masturbation, pillow humping and fucking, sheet (?) sniffing, daddy kink, praise, voyeurism and dubcon depending on what you want i guess

maybe you're unaware of how your voice affects agatha, innocently obeying when she asks you to "do as many pushups as you can, saying my name each time, baby", and because you love your girlfriend, you'll heed her and her little quirks. you just presume she wants to properly know how many pushups you can do, since it's easy for you to cheat by just saying numbers, right?

or, maybe you're a little more aware then you let on. maybe you exaggerate your noises a little, grunting "agatha" in the husky tone you know she adores, voice gradually dwindling into a whimper of her name.

hopefully unbeknownst to you, agatha is imagining your voice calling "daddy" over and over. you haven't discussed it yet, and she's too embarrassed to bring it up, because what if it's too much for you? the sheets are still gently stained with your juices from your shenanigans with her from last night, and she was supposed to change them (and, well she technically was) -- but she saw the darkened part of the sheets and got all riled up again.

agatha groans as she hears you, and hastily fumbles for the mute button, not wanting you to hear her (maybe she instead presses the video button, and you see flashes of her rigid cock, her head thrown back, and you cant help but buck your hips each time you lower yourself to the ground).

"baby, darling, you've ruined me," agatha mumbles, moving to position a pillow between her legs because she doesn't want to touch herself, rather have your hands, your mouth, your cunt. fuck, she's starting to drip precum just thinking about you.

pushing her nose against the stain you left on the sheet, she inhales sharply, desperately, taking in the lingering scent of you as she humps the pillow like a dog in heat.

it's not enough, she realises, and she tugs the sheet up, inadvertently giving her the brilliant idea as your pillow falls; if she folds it in half, it forms a nice gap that envelopes her throbbing dick nicely, and she can't bother to think about the logistics of it when she's hearing your voice on the other end, already done with pushups, just rambling on about your day like you don't know what you do to her.

she brings the soiled sheet up to sniff, groaning as she jolts into the pillow, babbling "daddy's good little girl" and "my favourite cocksleeve" and "please, baby, you're so good for daddy". (if you can hear her, perhaps you pause your talking just to question what she's doing, but she's too far gone into her pleasure to even notice).

"daddy needs you so bad, pretty girl, ngh-" and she pulls out of the (now sticky) pillow to cum all over the sheets, and the idea that your leftover juices on the fabric are now covered in *her* cum sends another load out of her, splattering audibly as she bucks her hips into nothing.

(if she's muted the whole time, she delights darkly in the fact that you don't know a thing, her naive little pet. but perhaps she realises only after, that her mic and camera is on, when you pipe up with a "enjoy yourself, daddy?" and she grows humiliatingly hard all over again.)

I'll stop here because my head is pounding lol, but i hope you like it (and i hope the start doesn't make you uncomfortable). thank you for gracing us with your incredible writing miss covenofagatha, looking forward to your next piece, whatever it is 😉

sorry i keep bothering you in your asks, let me know if you want me to stop! also, please don't feel obligated to write this in full as a request or anything, it truly is just a wriggly brainworm thought I have that i thought you might like 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

Every time you send an ask it has me on the fucking floor jesus christ how do you keep coming up with hotter ideas

I don't even know how I would be able to write more about this because every single word is so perfect and so detailed and fuck so hot oh my god

[cumtastiics]

sharing a meal . yanrurary prompt #1

tw ( yandere. + mention of drugs )

you looked at the plate in front of you, looking at him and how he was staring at you to take a bite.

"you really expect me to take a bite out of this?" you furrowed your brows, looking up at him. "last time you cooked up some fancy ass meal, you drugged it."

he rubbed his temple out of annoyance, glaring at you. "i did not drug your meal this time, okay? happy? hurry up and eat so i can give you your medicine."

you eyed him suspiciously, your fingers tapping nervously on the table. his impatience was a bit worrying, but you weren't about to let your guard down so easily.

"how about you take a bite first?" you challenged, pushing the plate towards him. "show me it's not poisoned or whatever."

he rolled his eyes dramatically, snatching up your fork. "fine, if it'll make you eat," he stabbed a piece of the meat, popping it into his mouth and chewing with exaggerated motions. "see? perfectly safe."

still unconvinced, you watched him carefully for any signs of distress or deceit. after a few moments passed and he remained standing, seemingly unaffected, you reluctantly pulled the plate back.

"alright," you muttered, picking up your fork. "but if I wake up tied to a chair again, i sw-” he cut you off, slipping your medicine in your mouth.

you spluttered, nearly choking as the pill slid down your throat. anger flared in your chest as you glared at him, ready to unleash a torrent of curses.

"what the hell?!" you managed to croak out, coughing. "you can't just-"

"i can and i did," he interrupted smoothly, a smug smile playing on his lips. "now eat your dinner. i don't have all day for your stupid games."

your hand clenched around the fork, knuckles turning white. part of you wanted to fling the entire plate at his face, but your growling stomach reminded you it had been days since your last proper meal.

reluctantly, you speared a piece of meat and brought it to your mouth. the savory flavor exploded on your tongue, and you had to admit - drugged or not - it was delicious.

"i hate you so much," you muttered.

"you'll enjoy my presence one day. believe me."

[ships-n-bats]

I used to view Shadow and Maria's relationship as strictly familial and would get grossed out whenever I came across fanworks romantically pairing them together. I even recall absolutely hating the hedgehog!Maria reincarnation AU, because people would only use it as a means to ship them. I just couldn't understand why or how people viewed their dynamic as anything other than brother & sister... only to just recently learn that they were, in fact, not canonically siblings. The whole ARK Siblings thing was just a popular western interpretation that overshadowed their romantic coding.

I don't know what it is with western fanbases, but they are obsessed with turning any positive dynamic between non-related characters into sibling or other familial-type bonds. And once the notion sticks and becomes popular, they'll shame and harass anyone for daring to ship them romantically. They'll accuse the shippers of supporting something "problematic" and "inc*sty" and it's just so childish and disrespectful.

The part where you discuss "sibling coding" especially hit the nail on the head regarding this. It's not unheard of for children to not grasp romantic feelings to those they're close to and just assume the feelings must be familial or platonic, only to later realize they're actually romantic once they're older and are able to articulate and understand themselves better. It reminds me of the scene from The Lion King when Nala and Simba show disgust at the thought of marrying each other. "I can't marry her; she's my friend." & "Yeah, it'd be so weird." Only for them to fall in love in adulthood, all traces of "just being friends" vanished with the presence of maturity and age.

The way I see it, SEGA has left it up to fan interpretation what their dynamic is, whether it be platonic, familial, or romantic. All are valid and anyone that says otherwise needs to get a grip and stop looking at media as some sort of moral litmus test. I see their dynamic as being something that borders on platonic and romantic. Maria passed before anything could be fully realized, so anything is possible. Personally, I see the soulmatism and star-crossed-lovers angle and enjoy the yearning of Shadow towards Maria after the events of everything. To me, the romantic coding is apparent.

Shadow and Maria's Complex Relationship

FOR DISCLOSURE: this thread is going to be discussing the complexities of Shadow and Maria’s relationship based on many different factors. Though I will be including the romantic interpretation (NOT a sexual one – I do not support nor condone sexualizing these two, nor most of the characters in Sonic, as they are almost all minors) as a potential, I will not be arguing to assign a definite label to their relationship – I will, in fact, be doing exactly the opposite (I am also not interested in engaging in shipping discourse over Sonic the Hedgehog characters). I would simply like to disclose that that will be discussed in case the topic upsets you and you would prefer to stop reading now. I accept this post may not be received well by some.

SPOILERS FOR SONIC X SHADOW GENERATIONS

So I've had to break out my Tumblr for this - my usual haunt is Twitter/Bluesky, but those don't really allow for longform posts. This is also a major departure from my usual FFXIV posting, so apologies to anyone who follows me for that.

Sonic x Shadow Generations recently dropped, alongside the short animations “Dark Beginnings” as well as the (non-canonical) manga “The Jet Black Hedgehog: Shadow the Hedgehog.” With it, discourse surrounding Shadow and Maria’s relationship has kicked up again, largely in two parties – that Shadow and Maria held a sibling relationship, or that Shadow and Maria held romantic feelings for one another (some people have also argued that Shadow is her uncle, or Maria is his mother, but I won’t be discussing those views). There are arguments for both drawn from a variety of sources – I will do my best to present both (if there are others I've missed, please feel free to comment and I will add them).

For siblings:

This Twitter post of artwork for Dark Beginnings has the following alt text: “Shadow and Maria reach out for one another in an infinite abyss (as long-lost siblings would) with the Moon and the Space Colony ARK in the background."

The manual for Shadow the Hedgehog (2005) describes Maria as “like a sister to Shadow.” I have also seen another screenshot of a different manual that states that Shadow as "like a brother to Maria," but I've been unable to find which manual it is. (EDIT: It’s a Prima Games manual, not written by Sega)

Gerald refers to Shadow as “son” during the climax of SxSG.

For romantic:

Maria saying “I love you” in the Japanese version of SxSG uses the kanji “ai shiteru,” whilst her “I love you” in the Japanese version of the manga uses “daisuki.” Whilst it can be used for familial relations, it is apparently very uncommon for both of these to be used outside of romantic intent.

Shiro Maekawa – the original creator of Shadow and Maria – based them (or at least parts of them) off of a romance manga known as “Please Save My Earth” (with Maria sharing the Japanese voice actress for the female lead from the anime), and has frequently supported them together, often retweeting romantic art and posts of Shadow and Maria.

In a recent interview from Sega, Maria touching Shadow’s face in Dark Beginnings was equated to Beauty and the Beast.

For Tanabata – a Japanese festival celebrating the meeting of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi, and the separation of them as lovers – Sonic Channel posted artwork of Shadow and Maria reading the story beneath the stars. Sonic Channel has also published fanart for Valentine’s Day relating to Shadow and Maria (although they publish a lot of fanart).

Before I go any further, when the topic of Shadow and Maria in a romantic lens comes up, many of the same criticisms arise that I do not believe are fairly levied – namely accusations regarding their age, species, and familial ties. I would like to address – and debunk – these three before we go any further. Keep in mind while you read these – this is not meant to convince you that their relationship was one thing over another, but only to provide validity to a subjective point of view I feel is unfairly stigmatized.

“It’s incest because Shadow is Maria’s brother/uncle(?).”

While there were notions of family stated by both Maria and Gerald, Shadow was grown in a tube with alien DNA and has zero blood relation to the Robotnik family. Whilst there are abstract labels of “like a sister” or “sibling coding” that are only ever applied in a meta sense, neither of them define their relationship in such a way within the lens of the universe. And it is not as if the topic never arises - in Shadow Generations, Maria herself likens young Abraham Tower as akin to her little brother, but she makes no such distinction with Shadow.

“Sibling coding” is ultimately a nothing statement, and unless a proper adoption is made, it does not magically turn romantic feelings towards the two involved into incest. Frames of reference are often informed by what young people are familiar with, and they sometimes lack the proper tools to acknowledge that their feelings towards each other are more complex than they first believe - to say that this is something that potentially occurred with Shadow and Maria is not outlandish, and not a concept unique to Sonic as a series.

Similar examples to this include Clive and Jill from Final Fantasy XVI (Jill is accepted into the Rosfield household and raised alongside Clive and his brother, only to later enter a romantic relationship with him as an adult), Nero and Kyrie from Devil May Cry (Nero is fostered by Kyrie's family and considers Kyrie a sister initially, only for her to become his love interest as adults) and Sidon and Yona from The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (Sidon grows up perceiving Yona as a sister, only to realize his feelings for her are more complex later on). None of these are incestuous relationships, nor is Shadow and Maria’s were it to be romantic.

“It’s bestiality because Shadow is an animal.”

Bestiality is applicable to regular animals that do not hold human sentience of thought, as they are unable to consent to a relationship, like a dog or cat. Shadow is not this, nor are any of the anthropomorphic characters within the Sonic games - were you to change the anthropomorphic animals in Sonic into humans, basically nothing about the series' content would change. All of them are completely sound-minded beings that are essentially just people who look different. Shadow is not Maria’s pet, he is her fully sentient friend that holds the same degree of thought as she does – given that Shadow’s entire arc is about finding his purpose in life, degrading him to simply a lab animal rather than acknowledging he is a person defeats that entire arc (something the manga also touches upon).

A lot of people also cite Sonic and Elise from Sonic ‘06 (namely the scene where Elise kisses the deceased Sonic) as a reason why Shadow and Maria should not be done - while I think it’s valid if you didn’t like watching a human girl kissing Sonic the Hedgehog, I maintain that a good chunk of that disdain stemmed from two major reasons:

Elise was very poorly characterized in her game. She existed to constantly get kidnapped and be saved by Sonic, and so both the relationship and the kiss came off more like pandering than something earned.

Sonic '06 had a bizarrely realistic artstyle for the human characters, whilst all of the animal characters retained their cartoonish appearances. This clash of artstyles looked its worst when Elise kissed Sonic at the game's climax.

Maria, however, does not fall into these pitfalls. She does not exist to be purely a love interest for Shadow - she’s certainly not someone for him to save, as the entire inciting event of Shadow's character is his inability to save her when she saves him.

For a frame of reference, Shadow is more akin to an alien from Star Wars – a setting where humans also exist. It is not bestiality for a Human to hold a relationship with a Twi’lek, as both races are fully anthropomorphic and sentient. On a similar note, Beauty and the Beast is not considered bestiality either, even though the Beast bears obvious animalistic traits. Some people have also entertained the notion of Rouge and Topaz from Sonic X, even though the latter is human. This is all the same principle, and none of it is bestiality.

“It’s creepy because Maria is young.”

Shadow – while said to be ageless – is not an adult, and to imply that he is one is a fundamental misunderstanding of Shadow’s character – whilst there are many instances where he demonstrates maturity on some levels, he has shown much immaturity since his inception in Sonic Adventure 2 (his desire to destroy the world out of revenge for Maria), and his most recent storyline in Generations involves his naïve desire to change Maria and Gerald’s fates (or rather, an initial indifference to what it will bring). Not only that, but his time on the ARK was mired in confusion over the point of his existence – Maria was the one that helped him field through his confusion, and was arguably the more mature one between the two of them. We can safely say that Shadow is not an adult character, nor is he ever presented as one in the lens of the game.

As the closest thing Sonic likely has to an equal in both body and mind (Sonic holds his own immaturities similar to Shadow), he can likely be placed mentally close to his age of fifteen. This is reinforced by the leaked transcript of Sonic ‘06 that refers to Shadow as 15 (the red squared text in this image).

Maria has no canon age established in game material, but Sonic X lists her as 12. 15 and 12 is the same age gap as Sonic and Amy respectively.

In addition to that, many people have claimed that Shadow is over 50 years old, but this is only true of his chronological existence, not the time he has been conscious and aging. He spent 50 years stuck in cryosleep, and awoke exactly how he was when he was placed in there.

A similar example would be Aang and Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender - Aang was frozen at the age of 12, and awoke 100 years later. Nobody, however, tried to claim that he was 112 years too old to kiss the 14 year old Katara, as Aang was physically and mentally still a 12 year old upon awakening - most people who watched the show were also actively rooting for these two characters to kiss, which they did at the show's finale. It's the same principle regarding Shadow - he is 50 chronologically, not 50 in mind or body.

If we’d like to really get into it, I would point out that nearly every character in the lens of Sonic is in and around Maria’s age range (according to the Sonic Channel). As stated previously, Sonic is 15. Amy is 12, Knuckles is 16, Rouge is 18, Blaze and Silver are 14, etc. Nobody bats an eye at notions of romance between any of these people (not that I’m saying they should inherently).

Romantic intent between minors is not inherently viewed as a bad thing - see the examples of Aang and Katara or Clive and Jill above, or for an in house example, consider the canonical (to Sonic X at least) relationship between the 8 year old Tails and Cosmo - yet for some reason when it comes to Shadow and Maria, a relationship is stigmatized.

To reiterate in the wake of the last point, my discussions of romantic intent ARE NOT SEXUAL IN NATURE. As I acknowledge these are minors, any notions of that are completely off the table, and I do not agree with anyone who would imply their relationship was a sexual one. I want to make that unmistakably clear.

My major takeaway from observing both the Sonic fanbase and those on Sonic Team seems to be that in western circles, Shadow and Maria as siblings is the popular perception, whilst in eastern circles, they are more commonly perceived romantically. But ultimately, Shadow and Maria’s relationship seems to have many contradictory signals that makes it hard to pinpoint a concrete definition, especially in the most recent releases – and I believe that this is fully intentional.

Shiro Maekawa has stated in DMs has stated this regarding their relationship when asked if he saw them as siblings or love interests (translated from Japanese):

“I think they have a special bond that is unique to them that doesn’t fall into either of those categories. Just my personal opinion.”

From the way that the two are written post-Sonic Adventure 2, this appears to be a sentiment that is fully carried forward – their relationship is more nuanced than a canonical label would make it. Maria was the only person who made Shadow feel loved, and Maria unquestionably loved him back. What kind of love that was is up to the viewer, especially given that Maria died when they were both young, before they even had a chance to expand upon their relationship, if that was ever on the table – not that they needed to, given that their bond seems to have transcended both labels. Maria was the only one who acknowledged Shadow as more than an experiment or a weapon, and Shadow was her rock in an environment where she was isolated away from her family and home. Maria was Shadow's person, and still remains that in death.

To disclose for me personally (in case it was not obvious), I have always interpreted their relationship as romantic - or at least having romantic implications - ever since playing Sonic Adventure 2 Battle and Shadow the Hedgehog when I was a kid. I have both a fiancé and a sibling, and the way they treat each other is far more evocative of how I treat the former than the latter (especially in Dark Beginnings – I do not imagine my sibling through a shoujo filter while I wistfully think about cuddling them in a field of flowers). I do not take the awkwardly placed alt text verbiage from the Sonic Twitter account, used to fake-argue with the Wendy’s Twitter account, as gospel for anything, and I think that treating it as a damning disproval is silly. Had she lived, I believed the complex feelings they held would have been identified as romantic down the line. The relationship always just read as too intimately charged for me to perceive as siblings (it still does especially in the wake of seeing how she touches and speaks to him), even before I had a serious relationship. I think that arguing the nitty gritty over Twitter alt text and translations is silly, as all it took for me to takeaway that the relationship was still romantic was to play the game, watch the animations, and read the manga for Shadow Generations - but that's just me.

That said, I will concur that if you are weirded out by romantic notions between the two of them, that is completely understandable, and I would never argue that you should not feel what you feel for yourself. The sibling viewpoint is also wholly valid an interpretation, with or without word from a meta source. Though she had her grandfather and later Abe, she was largely alone on the ARK away from a family that she clearly loved and missed, and it’s not unusual to presume that Shadow filled in the role of a brother for her. I will also acknowledge that many things I have not mentioned - such as Shadow blushing at Maria calling him cool, or her saying "I love you" in general - are not inherently indicative of romantic intent, and can be read as fully platonic interpretations, and I find those that try to state that the romantic interpretation is the objective one just as irritating as those that state the sibling interpretation is the objective.

My intent is only to dispute the idea that romantic interpretations, and the people who hold them, deserve to be scrutinized. The pairing is completely innocent, and the treatment people have received for believing them to be romantic is obscene. Sweeping blanket statements have been made to insult all who do (some going as far as to wish death and harm upon them), all just based on subjective viewpoints held by people who see them platonically. The fact that there is so much discourse surrounding this topic, and that there is evidence enough on both ends to make an argument, means that Sega has intentionally left the relationship up to interpretation - including the romantic take.

Everyone unclutch your pearls.

But with all that said, I will reiterate that this post was not meant to convince anyone of one thing or another, but rather that both interpretations of their relationship are valid, as it is essentially a secret third thing that transcends both labels and is special only to them. Strictly defining their relationship as “siblings” or “love interests” (even as someone who perceives them romantically, I would never want that to be definitively confirmed for this reason) is deconstructing what is perhaps the most nuanced part of a series that does not always tend to be terribly nuanced, and a definition matters far less than acknowledging what Maria means to Shadow in the present – he is who he is because of her, and because of that, he is now living a life for himself. Shadow the Hedgehog (2005) ended in a way that had Shadow let Maria go, and Shadow Generations ends with him carrying her forward with him after accepting her loss. She was, and will always be, the person who loved Shadow - however you define that love is up to you.

Nothing has ever been hard confirmed by Sega, no matter how much either side wants to pretend it has been.

In summary, both points of view regarding Shadow and Maria’s relationship are simultaneously true and not true – it is a matter of interpretation according to the viewer what their feelings towards each other were, yet their relationship in the lens of what it is now after the tragedy of their existence (even before Maria died) is purposefully indefinable, and it should remain that way. Nobody should ever try to say that Shadow and Maria are definitively something - that goes for both points of view. I doubt it will, but I hope this goes towards removing the stigmas towards one of the more nuanced parts of this series, as nuance in Sonic the Hedgehog - frankly - does not come along very often, and it would be nice if that were encouraged rather than smothered.

Thank you for reading.

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 11 Shhh... She's next door (Nayeon, Jihyo)

'How about we back home now, I want you.' Nayeon whispers in your ear, but she is too shy so she blushes, looking at the ceiling and waiting for your response.

"Jihyo’s going to be there Nayeon. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. What if we got a hotel room for tonight?"

'No babe, I want to do it on our bed. We try it before when Dahyun and Chaeyoung are there too, don't you remember?' Nayeon grabs your hand and stands up, 'let's go, babe.'

'Pump a baby in me, I will born a baby for you if you want.' Nayeon whispers in your ear.

As we get in the car, I force Nayeon on top of me so she can feel my erection. I have her grind against me as I tell her "I'll make sure to pump a baby in you."

Nayeon grinds on your lap and say 'Imagining you bumping all your seed in me already make me wet, let's back home babe. Fuck me until I can’t leave the bed.' You let her back to her seat and drive back home.

You two start making out once you enter the living room, and then head to your bedroom directly, but you didn't notice Jihyo is in the kitchen, watching what you do from moving from the entrance to your bedroom.

I close the door behind me as I start to strip Nayeon of her clothing. She does the same to me and at the point where we're both naked I start kissing her body.

You push Nayeon onto the bed after you two are completely naked, you two make out again, and then you slowly go down your head, planting hickeys on her neck and playing with her tits.

Nayeon is turned on, she grabs your head and pushes it toward her body, wanting you to kiss her deeper. 'Make me yours, babe. Love me now.'

I keep moving my head down until I reach her private parts where i start to finger her.

You start licking and fingering Nayeon's pussy at the same time, Nayeon just can't stop moaning your name and push your head deeper. 'Ah, Y/N, deeper, it feels so good.'

'OH, Y/N, I am cumming, I am cumming.' Nayeon splash all her cum on you, but still holding your head towards her clit

I keep eating her out and fingering her. Tell her I want more between breathes.

Nayeon bend down and kisses you, ' You want more? So do I.' Then she climbs over you and starts to ride you. Nayeon did not hesitate to reach the deepest, she keeps riding you fiercely.

You just laying on your bed and enjoying Nayeon's service, sweat dripping from her hair, and the way she moans your name makes you excited. You thrust your hip to suit her rhythm, you also go on playing with her tits, seeing her tits bouncing, you remember what Mina said this morning,' Imagine how Jihyo's tits bounce when she is riding you.' You start to think about Jihyo's big breast.

'OH, babe, I can feel your dick become larger, so full.' Nayeon moans louder as she feels your dick becomes bigger.

You shake your head, try to clear your mind, but when you open your eye again, you see the one who riding you is Jihyo, 'Y/N, I'm cumming, you are so much better than Daniel, cum with me, fill me up!'

'Shit, Jihyo.' You moan Jihyo's name instantly by imagining Jihyo is riding you, lucky Nayeon did not hear her name as she is approaching her orgasm.

I hold onto Nayeon's waist as I cum in her. "Fuck Nayeon, that was great." I continue to grind myself against her. "Can you keep going? Or do you want to rest?"

Nayeon grind your, wanted to milk all of your cum, 'I am not going to sleep tonight babe, I will drain you until you can't go to work tomorrow.'

Nayeon stands up from you, and the cum instantly leaks from her pussy, she gets some and tastes it, 'Always tastes so good. I am a bit tired, maybe you should on top this time.' Nayeon says while kneels in opposition, caressing her ass cheek, seducing you to fuck her one more time.

You stand and get in the position, ready for the next round, but you hear Jihyo's moaning in your brain again. 'Fuck me, Y/N. Daniel is just a trash while comparing with you, he never made me cum.'

I try to clear my head and just tell myself to not moan any names. I start thrusting into Nayeon, making deep and powerful moves. Anytime the image of Jihyo pops into my mind I quickly swat it away and internally call out Nayeon's name.

'OH, Nayeon you are so tight, it feels so good inside. Nayeon ah...' You keep moaning Nayeon's name while you are thrusting, hoping to concentrate on her.

But Nayeon suddenly stops moaning while you are still fucking her. 'How could she be dazed while I am fucking her.' You then thrust her harder, wanting to wake her up. You thrust harder, and she starts moaning again.

Your mind starts to go wild again as you are near orgasm again, this time not only Jihyo, but you also hear more woman moaning, your girlfriend Momo, your secretary Mina, Your cum slut Sana and Your step sister Chaeyoung. Their moaning is like stereo, surrounding you, and you can see Jihyo's tits bouncing in front of you again.

'Cum in Me, make me yours.' You hear all the girls say this at the same time.

I bite my lip to keep from saying anything and cum in Nayeon again. After I pull out put on some shorts and go to the bathroom to wash my face to get a better hold of myself.

You release all of your cum in Nayeon before you pull out, you plant a kiss on her forehead before you leave. ' Have some rest babe, I guess it's enough for today.'

You then go to bathroom to calm yourself down, but you did not notice the the floor outside your room is wet. You wash your face while thinking about what just happen, maybe Mina's word this morning triggers your horny towards Jihyo today, but why would you thinking about other girls that have relationships with you.

You feel yourself are calmed, then you leave the bathroom and ready to sleep with Nayeon. You walk pst Jihyo's room and find that the door is slightly opened, you want to close the door. Once you approach, you see Jihyo is mastrubing when she is moaning your name. 'Oh, Y/N, you are so big. Deeper, deeper!'

You want to leave pretending you don't know anything, but you accidently kick the door, and the noise alarm Jihyo, she saw you.

'Oh, Y/N, shit, no, don't look at me.' But Jihyo just moving her fingers faster and soon she reached the orgasm. 'Shit, Y/N, I am cumming.'

I close the door and sit in the kitchen for a minute. Looking at Jihyo’s door, I decide to knock on it. Asking if she's alright, and saying that she shouldn't be embarrassed.

You wait a while before you head back to Jihyo's room, you knock the room and then ask' Are you ok, Jihyo? You don't need to be embarrassed, I understand.'

Jihyo opens the door and let you in, she wears her pajamas again and sitting on the bed, while you are sitting on the chair. You cock is semi-harden, as it is still hyper from the naked body of Jihyo you just see.

'I'm sorry, Y/N. I did not mean to peek you and your girlfriend, umm, but she is moaning a bit loud and I do not have sex for a long time, so... I am really sorry about that.'

"There's no need to worry Jihyo, I understand. You have needs too, you're human, you're a woman." I sit there awkwardly for a moment not sure of what else to say. "Um, I heard you say my name. Were you thinking of me?"

Jihyo blushes after hearing your question, trying to hide her face from her hands, 'It's embarrassing, but yes, I am sorry. I am imagining the one you are fucking is me not your girlfriend while I am masturbating. I now understand why you have to find friends of benefit beside your girlfriend.'

'Can I take a look of your cock closer, you are largest one that I have seen.' Jihyo points to your still hardened bulge shyly.

"Jihyo if I'm being honest, you popped into my head while I was fucking her." I pull down my pants to reveal my cock to Jihyo. I get closer to her. "If you'd like you can touch it."

"Really? you really want my body? I know you are staring at my breast this morning, your secretary too. Oh, you cock is so hard, so hot' Jihyo get closer, and slowly stroking it, some of the remaining cum leaks from your tip and she licks it, your body shivers from the sensation.

'Oh, Jihyo, it feels good.'

I feel myself get completely hard in Jihyo’s hands. "Jihyo, I want you." I tell her as I try to keep myself from taking her at that moment.

'I can feel it, Y/N.' Jihyo smirks as she start stroking you faster, the sensation makes your legs weak and you are now sitting on the bed.

You can see lust burning in Jihyo's eyes, she starts fingering herself. " I want you too, Y/N. But your girlfriend is just sleeping next door. I can't promise I won't make any noise.' Jihyo starts rubbing you tip.

'Just like this, Jihyo, keep going.' You enjoy the pleasures and just keep your head up.

After a second of enjoying the Jihyo continue, I move away and close the door, locking it too. "If you can't stay quiet, I'll keep you quiet." I say as I tilt her head back and kiss her. "Jihyo, I want you." I tell her again.

Jihyo passionately replies to your kiss and you two just fall on the bed and keep rolling, you strip down Jihyo's pajamas and then start playing with her tits, while Jihyo is still stroking your cock.

You head goes down and start to suck her nipples, you never had a girl with such big breasts, you are just addicted. Jihyo feels your cock become larger, she strokes you faster and ask ' Do you like Mommy's tits, such harder Y/N.'

I suck harder while groping her ass. "You're so beautiful Jihyo." I tell her quickly before going back to her tits.

Jihyo uses her hands to cover her mouth, not wanting to moan too loud. But she could not stop moaning as you are bitting her nipple, 'Y/n, be gentle' You apologize and start kiss her again.

You two exchange the saliva while you start to fuck Jihyo's pussy, Jihyo breaks the kiss and start moan again, 'It's too big, wait Y/N, hold on.' You just keep kiss her to make sure she is not making any noise that would alert Nayeon.

As I wait for her to get comfortable I play with her tits and caress her body.

Jihyo is slowly adopting your length as you caress her body,' I am ok now, Fuck me Y/N.' Hearing what she said, you start fuck her deeper and harder, not forgetting to play with her tits.

However, Jihyo starts to moan again, this time not because of pain, but pleasure. You kiss her again to shut her mouth.

Soon Jihyo reaches her orgasm as your feel her walls become tighter, you hold the feeling that you want to cum and thrust harder, wanting to leave her a memorable first time with you. You are still kissing her so she could just moan in your mouth.

I break the kiss to tell her that I'm going to cum and ask her where she wants it. While I wait for her response I look at her body, focusing on her bouncing tits.

You look at her bouncing tit while waiting for her answer, 'Cum in me, Y/N, make me yours.' Jihyo breaths heavily and crosses her legs on your waist, forcing you to cum inside her.

'OH, Y/N, it's so good, I' m cumming!' Jihyo moans loudly while she cums, you want to kiss her to stop her, but she hugs your head tightly to her chest, you could only suck her nipples, which turns out she moans louder.

I force my head away and kiss Jihyo, while I impale her with my last thrust. I start filling her pussy with my cum.

You two keep kissing while you release your seed in her, you can feel her walls milking you, you two only stop the kiss only you are out of air, you keep playing Jihyo's tits while she is resting, still breathing heavily.

'I only understand why would your friend with benefits is addicted to you now, it's totally different when having sex with you, I guess I am addicted too.'

I laugh a little "This was fun but I should go back to bed. Maybe we can have sex again another time." I kiss Jihyo’s forehead. And start pulling out.

Jihyo pulls you down for one more kiss before starting to clean your shaft 'Don't leave yet, let me clean you first.'

'I'm glad that you like my body so much, will you still think of me when you fuck your girlfriend next time, huh?'

"I'll be thinking of you a lot more Jihyo." I say as I let her clean up my cock. I take in the feeling of her tongue lapping at my cock and when she's done a feel a little sad, but I know I have to go back.

Jihyo kiss your tip for the last time before sending you out, 'Maybe we can have more fun next time, Goodnight, Y/N, you too buddy.'

You grab Jihyo's tits one more time before you left the room. You go to the bathroom and wash your face again, pretend you have taken a shower so you spend a long time outside.

You back to your room again, Nayeon is already sleeping. You caress her cheek, thinking about what you have just done.

I feel very tired and fall asleep quickly, while holding onto Nayeon.

[syluriar]

vunerable - sylus x mc!reader

sypnosis: sylus has never been one to give up control, so you try and help him.

a/n: inspired by @yes-no-maybe-soo i legit just read your sylus hc's today and my brain scrambles to write this because althoug i love sylus bing a sub, you made some excellent points of it being hard for him to give up control because of what he went through in his past life (still haven't recovered, anyone else?).

contains: sylus being scared to give up control and not liking these feelings, mc (you) being so gentle with him. there's a slight mention of attmepted murder from sylus' enemies in the past. sylus crying (of that ever happens in game i swear to god-). angst & comfort.

word count: 1381

you straddle him with your hands resting at his hips, his chest is bare that allows you to see his breathing clearer. he's watching you with those ruby eyes you love so much, but you can see a bit of fear in them, unsurprising at the vulnerable position he's in.

it was your idea to do this, to give him the attention he gives you - the warmth, safety and consent. he knows you would never hurt him, but the image of losing all his control reminds him of his past life, as the dragon who has been beaten and chained for thousands of years. when the past you finally freed him he was determined to take control of his life, to never go back to the scared dragon.

he adores you, and you know that, he would do anything for you...but to give up all control, even if it is just you who takes it away...fear creeps back into him.

you lift a hand and reach up to caress his cheek which he immediately nuzzles into to, and he kisses the palm before releasing a sigh,

"it's only me," your voice is so soft, just louder than a whisper, like it was coaxing an animal out of it's shelter. you lean up and cup his face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "i'm the only one that's here."

you take one on your hands to gently run through his hair, an action that has him close his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and it makes your heart swell. "we can stop anytime you like, ok?"

a hum comes from his lips as he opens his eyes, and you see that small amount of fear has been replaced by something else.

he hates that you have to him like this, like he's weak, like he's a scared child who needs comforting - he doesn't like that he's showing this side to you, because how can you depend on him if he doesn't stay strong in front of you?

you kiss his forehead and you can feel some of the tension leave his body. a part of you wants to do this fats, you show sylus that yes of course, he can be like this with you, there's no shame and it and you'll always ben there for him , but you need to take it slow. you will show him all these things by listening to him, both words and body. you don't care how long it will take, because it's what he deserves.

you start to leave kisses all over his face, his cheeks, nose, even his chin that makes a small amused huff leave his lips. you're still gentle when you finally place your lips over his own, his hands coming to hold your waist. at any other moment it would be intense, fingers digging into clothing as your tongues fight each other.

but right now it's soft, like a perfect fluffy cushion you relax in. sylus groans at your mouth and you feel good knowing he does too. you see it in his eyes when you pull away, and the slight pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

you giggle. "do you know how cute you look when you blush?"

he sucks in a breath, clearly surprised by your compliment. "cute?" he looks almost amused. "that not a word people associate with me."

"well they don't know you like i do." you give his lips a quick peck to his lips before your hands descend lower to his shoulders, a lot looser than before. "i kinda like it that way."

"and you call me possessive." he chuckles. the air around you two has become easier, the tension slowly fading away.

for some reason your eyes go to his neck, such a strong thing that often aches because of how much he has to look down at you. you move your hands towards his neck, his sharp intake making you freeze.

"oh..." how could you forget a lot of his enemies go for his neck? a common way to end someones life. you felt stupid. "sorry...i was going to massage it. it aches because of how much you have look down on me, doesn't it?"

he doesn't answer you, his eyes cast aside as he continues to breath heavily. your heart aches at the sight and you retract your hands, placing one back on his cheek. "hey, remember, your still in control. stay stop and i will."

his breath shudders and his shoulders tense up once more, his hands now gripping your waist. he sucks through gritted teeth and turns his head away, as if he was ashamed of himself. 

your heart sings with distress at the sight and you want to feel anger of the people that have made sylus this way, but what good will that do here? 

sylus…” you lean your head to meet him and see something shine from his eyes, falling down his cheek.

a tear.

“oh…” you couldn’t hold back at your reach to brush it away, but when your skin makes contact he flinches, and it makes you want to cry yourself. “it’s me, my love. only me. i’m here.” you brush the tear away, fingers gently thumbing in his cheek to help calm him. 

a strangled noise comes from his throat. “i don’t…i didn’t want you to see me like this…” his voice is in a tone you’ve never heard before, one of pain and distress.

“like what?” you reply softly.

he doesn’t answer straight away and you wait patiently, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders like he had done to yours in times like this. 

“like i am weak, scared…vulnerable.”

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, each piercing you harshly through the heart. “sylus…there’s nothing with you feeling any of those things.”

“i need to be strong for you.”

“do the strong always require to be strong?”

repeating his own words to him hit him like bricks, his eyes widening and lips parted in shock. ever so gently you cradle his face, his eyes still looking away from you. “wasn’t it you who said that?”

“...it’s not the same.”

“how isn’t it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply, so you keep talking. “i don’t need you to be strong for me sylus. don’t you think there’s a strongness in being those things? weak, scared and vulnerable?...to me there is.”

your words make him finally look at you, his eyes still holding surprise. “...there is?”

you nod. “even plants and animals have those types of feelings, so you having them is normal. showing them to me is…letting yourself be loved by me even more than you do now. it shows that you trust me to see you this way, and trust me that i won’t turn you away.” 

you lean forward and turn his face to you before grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your chest, your heart beating loudly underneath. “trust me that i will always be patient with you, that i will never rush you and listen to what you say,”

you grab his other hand and bring it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles and palm before placing it over your cheek. “and trust me that i will always love you, no matter what.”

he hears your love, your utter devotion to him that makes his heart sing. he stares at you with such loving eyes one might say they never knew it existed, but it’s right here, right in this room and in each other's arms.

he kisses you with such intensity, with such love that it almost makes you fall. with your hands on his shoulders you meet his passion, his devotion, his affection and so much more. he cradles your face as your lips part, heavy breaths falling from both. 

“i love you too, my beloved, so so much.”

he holds you tightly with his head buried in your neck, your arms around his neck and brushing through his hair.

you don’t care how many times this needs to happen, to assure him of your love and devotion, of your patient and his consent. 

because you will never, ever hurt him - he deserves better.