#and like. i knew all of this. but it just is sad to see it so frequently and unabashedly

[fan-maddson]

Fannie stood behind Billy, almost as if trying to hide. She wasn't afraid, but she was embarrassed. He was right. She'd gone against everything she was taught, gone against her better judgment—all because she was afraid. "I'm disappointed in me, too," she offered softly. You raised me better. I knew better."

Erik looked at Billy, eyes still sad. "It's not fine. It's not normal. I know you say it's fine, it's okay...it made you into the man you are, but you should have had so much better. All of you should have. I can't change the past, but I can promise to give you every opportunity to change your future." He looked up at Eddie, a small smile there.

"I appreciate that, I do. When you all have kids, you'll understand. And if shit like this happens, you'll feel like you failed them. Honestly, you feel like a failure most of the time," he chuckled. "And I'm not disappointed, Fannie. I'm heartbroken that you've been living with this."

Max stood beside Billy, a hand on his shoulder. She was shocked to see an adult admit they felt like they had failed and apologize. It was then she decided to speak up.

"Look, I know I'm just a kid, but, it'd be kinda awesome to see Fannie in a Jeep. You know, like completely turn it into a beast. Then no one would wanna mess with her," she offered, shrugging.

Billy gripped the steering wheel tighter. His vision was swimming as he tried to keep from crying. He's bruised up. His right eye swollen shut. He took a deep breath. He didn't feel like partying. Not like this. He covered his face with his hands. Glad no one was around. Everyone inside at Fannie Maddson's house.

He let go, tears rolling down his face as he sat at the end of the street.

Glad for the nights coverage as he sobbed into his hands.

@fan-maddson

[sanemistar]

TAKE ME BACK

contents ★ ex!geto x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes then back to lovers, slightly ooc geto (?), 1.2k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. author's message ★ trying a new layout for this one :3 i honestly love this color combo plus these are my favorite colors ever <333

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

seeing your ex boyfriend suguru for the first time after the breakup left you with mixed feelings of both familiarity and unfamiliarity. in terms of appearance, he hadn’t really changed. he looked pretty much the same way as you left him except his jet black hair had gotten longer. however, something about his aura had changed. you weren’t exactly sure what it was, you just had a feeling that it wasn’t the same as before, it was a tad bit softer, more gentle, and it made you feel as if you were being in the presence of a completely different person.

tension began to rise as awkward silence filled the atmosphere around you. it was excruciating and you had a hard time breathing, your heart clenched painfully. you were anxious and nervous.

yet despite all that, deep down inside your heart was a part of you that wanted to see suguru again, which grew bigger when it actually happened, you were quite happy to see him again after all that time.

if you were being completely honest, you had never been able to move on from him. so in other words, you still had feelings for him. and if he ever asked you to get back together, you would do it in a heartbeat without a single hint of hesitation.

you knew he wouldn’t though, and these were only wishful thoughts on your part. because you were pretty sure things between you and him had ended once and for good that day. showing no signs of a reconciliation.

“you haven’t changed at all.” your eyes widened slightly, it was as if he was reading your mind. was it some sort of telepathy or something? you didn’t know. his voice pierced through your ears, and it got you thinking that his tone hadn’t changed in the slightest. his voice was still as soft as it could be.

“you too, sug—geto.” you almost called him by the nickname you gave him back when he was your boyfriend, but quickly realized and changed to his last name. however, it didn’t feel right to you. it felt so forced, simply because his nickname used to roll off your lips ever so effortlessly, your tongue was so used to the sound of ‘sugu’ as it rolled out naturally. so when you forced it to say his last name instead, it came off weird.

suguru chuckled, a somewhat sad smile made its way onto his face upon hearing his last name rolling over your lips. the sound of it felt foreign to his ears as it reminded him that you two weren’t in the kind of relationship that allowed you to be on a nickname basis anymore. it hurt him, and it hurt him deep.

because truth be told, he too, still loved you. he tried his hardest to move on with his life, he went out with many girls, and he even went as far as to sleep with them in desperate attempts to forget all about you as if he’d never met you. but to his misfortune, his attempts never worked out. you were simply unforgettable to him, he could never erase you from his heart even if he wanted to.

he had left his heart with you on the day you called it quits, and couldn’t manage to get it back to give it to someone else.

you felt as if time was frozen, and you were stuck in yet another prolonged moment of silence. with just you and suguru together, no one else.

your mind was constantly telling you to run away, to not look back and leave him behind. that you were better off without him. but your emotions took control over your actions as your heart refused to let your body move, and you remained still in your spot.

“i can’t believe i let you go,” suguru spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever, breaking that thick layer of silence. “i was such a fool, wasn’t i?”

his regretful tone caught you by surprise, you couldn’t believe that it was possible for suguru to regret a decision he made. yet there he was, spilling out his regrets in front of you.

you slowly parted your lips open, thinking of what to say back to him.

“isn’t it a little too late for that?”

that wasn’t what you wanted to say, you wanted to say that you missed him, that you still loved him, that you wanted to get back together with him.

but your mind was too quick to react. you wished you could take back what you said, but it was too late for that.

“maybe… but if i’m being honest with myself, i still love you. actually, i don’t think i’ve ever stopped loving you once.” you watched suguru admit that he still had feelings for you in utter disbelief. it was the last thing you expected to hear from him. how he looked at you while he was talking and how earnest he sounded were enough proof that he was being sincere and genuine, he meant every single word he said.

suguru on the other hand, felt some sort of relief washing over him after finally letting his suppressed feelings for you out of his chest. he didn’t know if he would ever get another chance to see you again, so he was more than determined to win you back. it wasn’t guaranteed that you would allow him in your life once again, but he was still willing to give it his all.

“so please just,” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “take me back to you.” it sounded as if he was pleading, perhaps he was indeed pleading. he was just desperate at that point as this was his last resort. but he didn’t care if he seemed desperate, he was able to put his pride aside and show you his weak side. to suguru, if showing his vulnerability to you was the price he had to pay for him to get you back, then so be it.

“you idiot, of course i’d take you back. i wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t you, i will always love you.”

that sole sentence was enough to bring you to tears because of how moving it was. you immediately run towards him and throw yourself in his arms as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. his body slightly flinched under your touch, but quickly reacted as his strong arms pulled you closer to him. your bodies were so close that you could feel the warmth of one another.

“welcome back, sugu.” you said in between your sobbing, finally allowing his name roll off your lips ever so easily. he smiled upon hearing his nickname being said as he gave the top of your head a series of small, tender pecks.

“yeah, i’m back home.” he hummed softly against your ear.

suguru had been lost for so long, but at last he was finally back to where he belonged, to you, his home.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos ( @gothsuguru + @hiraethwrote special tags for you my loves since you asked me about it )

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ROT

hurt/comfort pairing. tangerine x gn!reader summary. tangerine sees through your lies about having a tough time word count. 859

There hasn’t been much to push you out of bed lately. Your complex internal feelings much preferring the protection of your duvet than everything else outside the bubble of sadness you built around yourself. The covers acting as a shield from the real world.

Rotting is the only way to put it really, wasting away. Scrolling mindlessly on your phone from early to late hours of the day, doing whatever deems necessary to quieten and numb the persistent nattering in your brain. Though it was utterly boring, the hours upon hours of staring at your phone all beginning to merge together.

With Tangerine and his incessant worrying of you and your needs, you had to disguise your sadness within sickness — dramatising a bad belly and pounding head in order to keep his anxiety at bay.

You knew your dismal states often consumed him, the thought of being unable to help you acting like an axe in his heart. You couldn’t bear pulling him into your pit of darkness, so you decided to keep him out of it. Wanting to preserve him as a flashlight to navigate yourself from the bleak.

Tangerine has been staying with you to keep you company during your faux fever, maintaining things around your house you were unable to keep up with. All in all being a great house guest and boyfriend.

You hear a slight creak of the floorboards outside your bedroom door, Tan’s head peering through the gap mere seconds after. You turn slightly, momentarily meeting his eyes from across the room.

“Alright?” he questions briefly, voice soft as not to disturb you.

“Yeah,” you reply, response short to keep up the charade.

He signs faintly before he’s on the move, walking across your room until he’s right in front of you, knees knocking at the edge of the mattress. He looks down at you, head cocking slightly as if things are beginning to click in his brain. Dots starting to connect.

“How you feelin’?” he asks, looking over the side of your face, waiting for you to look up at him, though you never do.

“Better,” you lie.

You keep your gaze cast downwards as you shift under his attention. And as you go to tug your covers, wanting to reshield yourself once again, he’s bending at the knee. Lowering himself to look you in the face.

“It don’t look it,” he gently shakes his head, seeing through your lies. The tone of his voice holding no such anger or malice.

You exhale softly and bring a hand to your face, thumb and middle finger resting over your temples, covering your eyes from his forever intense gaze.

“Why you pushing me away?” he asks, his question sounding more rhetorical — quite like he himself already knew the answer. “Hm?” he hums.

He reaches for the hand covering your face, his index hooking into the V between your thumb and forefinger, pulling it from its secure shielding. He holds onto your hand carefully, sweetly entwining with your fingers as he leans in, pressing a kiss into the back of it.

“What’s the matter?” Tangerine questions, eyes softer than you’ve seen before. Looking over you like the sheer sight of you alone was killing him. “Come on,” he prompts, nodding gently when you finally meet his eyes. “Talk to me. Come on, love.”

You look at your hand in his, watching his what seems to be nervous fiddling — his finger’s playing with yours while he awaits your response. Though, you don’t really have one. You don’t have an answer to give him.

“I don’t know,” your voice cracks faintly as you offer him a shrug, speaking like the lack of reasoning is also weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m just sad,” you murmur, your brows beginning to furrow woefully.

He nods, expression soft and hurt as he looks over you, trying to show you he understands.

“What can I do?” he asks, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb — tracing faint circles into your skin.

You offer him another measly shrug as your tear duct begin to fill. You really had no answer.

He stills, fighting off the lump in his throat upon the sombre sight of you. “Can I do anything?” he rephrases, emphasising whether anything can be done at all.

You give him another shake of the head, the motion as soft as the others.

He nods understandingly, lips forcefully straightening as his free hand reaches for the side of your face — thumb gliding under the wetness under your eye, flicking away a tear.

Your close your eyes upon the warm contact of him, finally feeling a moment of peace.

“Sorry,” you mutter, voice thick from your restless days in bed. It was like you were now finally growing sleepy.

“Don’t be daft,” he whispers, the motion of his head reinforcing the gravity behind the statement, though you could no longer see it — your eyes fluttering closed.

Tangerine holds onto both your hand and cheek, keeping you safe and protected as he sits on the floor beside your bed. Caressing you sweetly until you’re drifting off into some much needed sleep.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[love4layla]

can you make a headcanon to hawks bakgou and deku (Separate) accidentally making their s/o cry?

(btw ignore my name💀)

A/N:(Definitely Ignoring the name 😭) Holy shit bro I deleted the app for a while so I am SO sorry for being THIS late.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!

ACCIDENTLY MAKING THEIR S/O CRY

Bakugo, Hawks, Deku x Reader

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bakugo

He was outside of the dormitory training. You had finished earlier and just went to chill in your room and just hang around for a while. Minutes turned into hours and you started to get a little worried for him, he hadn’t come inside yet, not even to eat. You decided to go and check on him. You walk out to where he normally trains and you see him flying in the air and aggressively and swiftly hitting the dummy with precision. You could see that fire in his eyes that he always got when he fought. You waited till he was done and then you talked to him. “Hey babe. It’s getting a little late don’t you think? Iida made some food inside.” You sit down next to him. He was already a little irritated before you came over. “No.” He says bluntly. You were a title taken aback but you continue to push. “Katsuki… you haven’t eaten all da-“ “I said I’m fine bitch! I’m not a little ass kid you need to take care of!” He snapped. Your eyes go wide. “Well I’m sorry for trying to make sure you don’t end up hurting yourself because you’re undernourished.” You snap back with attitude. “I don’t need someone telling what to do all the time. If you’re gonna be like that then I’ll just leave your ass in the dirt.” He says as he gets back up to train. It’s almost like your whole world stops, you feel your throat tighten and your body stiffen. Tears start to stream as you turn around and walk back inside to your dorm room. His eyes widen as he face palms as himself, fuck. A couple of hours later, you’re in your bed and sulking about what he had said, was he actually going to break up with you? Was it all over? He knocks on your door but ends up using the spare key you gave him due to hearing no answer. He walks in and sit in the edge of your bed. “Listen…I didn’t mean it alright.. I was just pissed off about sumthin else…” he grumbled trying to apologize. He ends up sighing when you don’t budge. He leans down and kisses your cocooned figure, “I’m sorry babe. I love you…” . We cuddled for the rest of the night

Hawks

You had been dating Hawks since he was the number 3 Hero. You’ve been through the highs and lows with him. all the missed dates, all the times he stood you up due to hero work. You stocked with him through it all. He always had something more important and you were getting tired of it. You had had a talk with him about how it all made you feel and he apologized and promised to change. You were out with him, having a mini date while he was on break. You two haven’t had a date in a while. He had promised you a nice cafe lunch because he knew they were your favorite. Everything was sweet and nice. He gets a call from someone. He picks up his phone “Yo” he picks it up. “Hey, what’s up…….huh?……I’m kinda in the middle of something right now…….alright fine” he hangs up the phone. “Hey babe, I gotta dip early.” Your face dropped and you got a little irritated. “What why?” You ask him. He doesn’t even tell you why, he gets up and waves “Bye baby! I gotta go”. And there you were again, left alone. You couldn’t stop your tears from falling in public. People were following hawks all the time, because, you know, he’s fucking Hawks, snapping photos of him whenever they could. You head home after you finish crying and start to cook dinner. Once you put the noddles on to boil, you scroll on your phone. You suddenly see post of you, red faced, teary eyed and bye yourself.

“Hawks’ new girlfriend crying after he left her. So sad #celebritycouples #whoisthischick?

You scroll through the comments:

“Poor girl…”

“Hawks has a girlfriend?”

Hawks was on his way home from his duties, he scrolls on his phone, his eyes widen as he sees multiple photos of you, teary eyes and mascara dripping. His head drops “Shit!” He picks up his pace as he speeds through the sky to your shared home. He opens the back door of the balcony. “Honey? Babe? Y/n!” He looks around the house for you until he finds you on their bed watching Disney+ on your laptop. You look up “Oh your back. At-“ You look at the time, “12:03am.. did you have fun?”. His heart breaks as he realizes he did EXACTLY what he promised not to do. He sits down in the bed next to you, gently taking your hand. “Y/n…. I’m so sorry honey…” he kissed you. “I saw the posts….i feel terrible baby I am so sorry I made you feel like that.” He changed out of his hero suit and kissed you in the bed until you both fell asleep (watching Moana)

Izuku Midoriya

You and Midoriya never, and I mean NEVER fight. You two had been training together for hours, it was cold outside so you two had to dress for it. (Y’all know his EVERYTHING hurts more when you’re cold outside). You two were hitting move after move, dodge after dodge. You two were in perfect unison. You two had taken a break to catch your breaths. Then you two got back to it, he zoned out mid fight and wasn’t paying full attention. Instead of landing the hit to your legs like he intended he miscalculated and landed a powerful kick it right on your breast. (Girlies know how painful that is holy-) You screamed out and tears fell from your face as you hunched over. “FUCK-“ He panicked and runs over to you “Damnit! Oh my god are you okay?! I’m so sorry!” He saw the tears falling and his heart broke. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry” he tried to find a way to make this better. He picked you up and carried you inside to the dorm commons’ couch. After a couple of minutes of him panicking, the pain went away. It was bruised but it wasn’t bad. “Y/n, I am so sorry. I got distracted and I didn’t know where I was kicking and-“ you cut him off with a hug. “It’s fine baby. I mean…. yeah it hurt like a bitch, but I’m fine now” you smile and hug him. He sighs and relaxes “Okay”

MasterList<3

[hyukascampfire]

OKAYYY FINALLY I GET TO RN THIS. first of all, thank you so much for reading :,) just know that i read this so many times over. this was just the best notif to receive.

MC is also SO me. which means we are TWINSSSSS. i’m around the same age as her, and also just so sad to be letting childhood go. i tried writing that sadness out in MC, and i think the best thing ever is getting multiple messages abt how so many people relate to her. it means we’re all in this together. we’re not alone in our feelings, which is honestly the biggest comfort to me.

COMPLIMENTING MY MUSIC TASTEEE. you are the loml. AND you listened while reading. as intended. i literally could not be happier. i was feeling that playlist while writing🤤

and then you compiled all your favorite quotes here 😭 stop. i am so giddy. those are some of my favorite from the fic as well. especially “you clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge its end.” that one i am so proud of, for how incredibly powerfully it illustrates how i feel about this stage of my life. im glad that the stars aligned and my brain was in the right mood to put that on paper.

and oh my god, if that’s the same erin morgenstern as the night circus, i will absolutely be reading it. ABSOLUTELYYYY.

I LOVE FLORENCE + THE MACHINE. and ALSO dog days. i think our music tastes are lovers. dog days is so so so perfect. thank you so much for reading, kipo. i think you’ve made my whole life with this rb. i’m so deeply in love with the way this story came out. at first, it was just a few bare bones scenes, and it just kept on growing and growing and i really knew i had to see it out. i think it flourished so beautifully:,))

THE BLOCK OF TAGS hell yeah.

ribs playing at the ending and scott street and more than this during the confession oh shuffle had it OUT for you 😭 but i also think those songs at those specific scenes are PERFECT.

and yeah FUCK yeonjun!!! it was tough writing him like that 😕

IM SO PROUD OF THE MOTH SYMBOLISM. i wanted it to feel like, even when kai and MC were lost and confused and apart, they were never really alone, and there were perhaps bigger things at play here. or maybe even the instances of moths appearing were nothing more than coincidence (of course except for at the creek and during the confession). i want to leave it up to the reader to decide that.

OKAY I GOTTA CUT THIS RB OFF because it’s lagging to even type because it’s all so long. i wish i could say more omg i could talk about it forever with you. thank you so much for reading, like really so so so much. T^T

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms.Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face. Though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> on an unfamiliar road

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 2.2k TW: angst, anxiety, scoups hiatus, one swear word italics are interviews cut in between a/n: chills while writing this omg. having to rewatch coups' hit the road episode was PAINFUL but i did it for you guys ಥ‿ಥ

"Come sit next to me." Dino waved Cyana over as they sat in a diamond formation for their group photo.

She nodded, putting down her food to join them, taking her place next to her twin maknae.

They were nearly finished 1/4 of their world tour now.

"Where's Mingyu?" Seungcheol called from the very back, taking his place as the group's eldest and leader. "He's the only one not here. Mingyu!" His voice sounded brighter today.

Their leader confused Cyana. She could never tell if he was improving or just silently getting worse.

"I've been learning to video edit recently." Mingyu told her and Seungcheol through a mouth-full of food.

Cyana gave him a happy smile. "That sounds fun." She quietly snuck another piece of meat onto Seungcheol's plate as she spoke.

"As the team's leader," Seungcheol spoke to the camera, his hands gesturing to himself. "I have the role of being both strict and relatable."

Seungcheol nodded at Mingyu to continue. "Is it difficult?" He asked, reaching over to his plate and frowning when he picked up another piece of meat. He glanced over at Cyana, who was doing her best not to look at him.

"Sometimes I feel like their younger brother." Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle. "It gives me energy and makes me feel more comfortable."

"I've been editing so much I see it in my sleep." Mingyu told the two of them. "Do you get that?"

Seungcheol shook his head. "Well, no."

Cyana nodded. "Yeah. Like how you feel like you're still playing a shooting game in your sleep."

"Exactly."

Seungcheol frowned, turning to Cyana. "You've been playing shooting games?"

She shrugged. "Wonwoo lets me on his gaming computer sometimes if I promise not to bother him whenever I'm at his and Mingyu's place." She discreetly slid another piece of meat onto Seungcheol's plate. "He only owns shooting games."

"I've been seeing Cyana like a daughter recently." Seungcheol laughed at the thought. "Or like my younger sister. But really she's like our mother, even though she's the youngest. She takes care of all of us in her own ways."

"It was near the end of our show where I noticed Coups oppa was limping." Cyana winced at the memory. "He was hiding it very well, you couldn't see it on his face - he was still laughing and waving to the crowd during our encore."

Cyana patted DK on the back amidst the chaos of Aju Nice, motioning for the two of them to move to the center.

DK looked back at her, both surprised and bubbling with joy. Cyana usually held back during their encores, preferring to move along the sides of the stage and interact with fans that way.

"I was sad my feet were hurting during our encore." Seungcheol revealed to the interviewer. "Dancing hurt, but jumping hurt even more. And I wanted to play with the members."

The boys cheered on DK and Cyana as they held a mini dance battle in the center of the stage, Cyana pulling out all the b-boy moves Minghao had taught her for fun. She caught Seungcheol's face light up from the corner, standing next to Wonwoo.

"I jumped extra hard that day." She recalled. "I jumped twice as hard because Coups oppa couldn't, and I knew it was what he would've done if he could."

The restaurant had a slight draft as Cyana sat next to Seungcheol, quietly watching as he grilled them both a piece of meat.

"Everybody!" She looked up to see Dino and Mingyu standing in the middle of the restaurant, shot glasses lifted high into the air. "Let's do a fighting on the count of three!"

Today had been their last concert in Japan, officially closing the Japan leg of their world tour.

"Everyone! Good job on Ode To You Japan!" Dino yelled, "Fighting on the count of three!"

Cyana laughed as Mingyu did his best to translate for him, repeating the boy's words in Japanese. As she laughed, she tucked herself closer to Seungcheol, almost subconsciously.

He noticed, like he did with everything, grabbing her hand and tucking her arm underneath his own, patting it as he gripped it in a silent sign of support.

"1,2,3 Fighting!!"

She looked at Seungcheol with a goofy grin, clinking her glass clumsily against his.

"Drunk Nana is adorable." DK mused, watching the interaction from in front of them. "She gets so clingy."

"It's nice." Seungcheol admitted, smiling affectionately when Cyana only shuffled closer, unaware that they were talking about her.

"I think that was the last good day." Seungcheol bit back tears. "Eating with everyone, Nana by my side. The last real good day."

"I could tell something was wrong with Coups oppa the moment we landed in Jakarta."

Cyana tugged on Mingyu's arm to catch his attention.

He looked up from his phone, his smile morphing into a frown when he gauged her worried expression. "What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong with Coups." She mumbled, leaning against the couch where he sat. "It's like he's dreading going onstage."

Mingyu glanced over at the boy in question, who was mindlessly playing with his fingers over by the makeup chairs. "He looks fine to me."

Cyana shook her head, adamant something was wrong. "No. You really can't tell?"

Mingyu gave his hyung another look, a proper, hard one this time. "He just looks worried." He looked up at Cyana, wondering why she was so concerned. "Coups hyung is always worried though, especially during tour."

Her shoulders drooped at the mention of Seungcheol's anxiety. "He'll be okay." She muttered, half to Mingyu but mostly to comfort herself.

It got more noticeable once they were onstage.

This time, Mingyu could see it too. Seungcheol was clutching onto his red mic as if his hands would shake without it, his eyes bouncing from place to place as his turn to introduce himself grew nearer.

"Hi, I'm Seventeen's leader, S.Coups." He said into the mic, and Mingyu knew it lacked his usual energy and charisma.

"You good?" He mouthed to him, facing away from the fans to ask Seungcheol what on earth was going on. "Do you need a break?"

His hyung only brushed him off, leaving Mingyu to look at the end of the line, where Cyana stood, equally worried. Their interaction had not been missed by her keen eyes.

"I thought.." Seungcheol's voice was weak as he spoke. "I thought as the group's leader, I should at least keep going until the group greeting." He hit his hands against his leg, rhythmically, as if it would stop the tears from flowing. "But I knew Mingyu and Nana knew something was wrong."

"Jakarta was..." Cyana paused, trying to find the right wording to describe the sheer amount of feelings that had gone into that one night. "painful." She finally chose, placing her finger delicately on the word. "At that point, we were doing the concert just to finish it."

Cyana watched bitterly as Seungcheol collapsed into one of their cars. She wished it had been her instead. If there was some way to switch places with him, to transfer all of his pain into her own mind, she would do it. Regardless.

"It'll be okay."

She turned to see Jeonghan standing there, having changed out of his concert outfit, a jacket thrown over his shivering shoulders.

"It'll be okay." She repeated his words back to him, wanting to tell him it would go both ways. If they were okay, everything would be okay here too.

Dino watched helplessly as Cyana paced back and forth in the hotel hallway, lingering briefly each time she passed Seungcheol's closed door. He wanted to do something, anything. He felt utterly stupid and useless but the other members had told him there was nothing they could do for Seungcheol. Nothing that would really help, anyways.

"Everyone kept telling me to just leave him alone." Cyana confided during the interview, wringing her hands. "That he had asked for space and we needed to give him that. But I felt so...silly, just sitting on my hands and doing nothing - when he was suffering so much next door."

"Go in." Dino had enough of it all. He stood up from his spot on the lobby couch, motioning for Cyana to open Seungcheol's door. "I'll cover for you, just hurry."

Cyana paused in her pacing, staring up at him with widened eyes. "What?"

"I'm sick of being useless." He said loudly, frustration evident in his tone. "I don't care if he asked for space. Space is the last thing he needs right now. He needs us - but obviously he won't let us see him like that cause he thinks it means he's weak - he's just human, for fucks sake!" Dino threw his hands in the air, finally letting it all out. He had been silently watching Seungcheol suffocate himself for weeks.

Cyana could only nod, a bit taken aback by his outburst but grateful someone was finally agreeing with her. "Okay. I'll be quick, watch the door for me."

"I suppose both of us knew silence could be a killer. And that silence was nobody's friend when it came to anxiety." Cyana huffed. "But of course, Coups oppa was stubborn."

"I thought I told no one to come in." It was the first thing Seungcheol said to Cyana when she announced her presence with a little knock.

"It's just me." She said, praying he'd be a little more accepting if it was her and not one of the boys.

"Go away." He sounded like a petulant teenager and looked like one too. Cyana found him curled up under the covers, his face covered with his arms.

"Can I read you something?" Cyana suddenly asked, getting the sense that he did not want to talk. Throwing her original game plan aside, she took a seat on the other side of the bed next to him and pulled out her phone. "I promise we don't have to say anything. Just let me read this to you, and if you want me to leave, I'll leave."

She got a nod. She considered that a small win.

"Okay. I've- um." She paused, collecting herself. "I've never shown anything I've written to anyone." She warned him. "So...be kind."

You do not have to beg on your knees, to be loved and you do not have to will away tears that would otherwise paint streams against your weathered face and you do not have to hide the callouses on your hands that speak of centuries of experience I do not believe, god gave you strong shoulders just for them to break I do not believe there is anyone to blame as time keeps slipping and our minds spin out of control you only need to let the little child in you glow and tell them there are things on this earth out of his control that he does not need to carry the weight of the world hand me your backpack I'll spilt it into fourteen separate parts and give you back a piece of yourself

She finished reading, looking up from her screen to gauge his reaction. "I call this one Cornerstone." She whispered after a pause. "It's not very good, but it's something I wanted you to hear."

He continued to just lay there, quiet, covering his eyes with his arm.

"Good night, Coups oppa." Cyana moved off the bed as gently as she could. "I love you."

She was glad she couldn't see his face as she left. She didn't hand out I love yous easily. She couldn't remember the last time she ever said those three words, but she figured he needed to hear them. And she really did mean them.

Dino was waiting for her outside like he said he would.

"You're crying." He approached her, moving to wipe her tears with the pad of his thumb.

She sniffed, raising a hand to pat her wet face. "Am I? I didn't notice."

She didn't fight it when Dino pulled her into his chest for a hug. "We're strong." He muttered into her hair. "Don't forget that."

Seungcheol laid very still as he listened to Cyana leave the room. He was afraid that if he made any sudden motion, she might turn back around and realize he had been crying.

He had wanted to tell her that the poem she read to him was very good - so good in fact, that it had twisted his insides and left him feeling incredibly hollow. It was a strange feeling, like he was sad he was so loved.

Furiously wiping the tears off his face, he flipped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He'd have to ask her to print that poem out for him someday, when he could talk to her and not feel like sobbing into her arms.

"I felt terrible and angry at myself for running away." Seungcheol confessed to the camera. "But the more I rested, the more I overcame. And Cyana-" He paused.

"What?" The interviewer's voice spoke from behind the camera. "What is Cyana to you?"

"A blessing." He nodded. "That girl is a blessing."

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

See, hear and speak no evil - Carlos Sainz x reader

You usually loved race weekends. Any chance for you to watch your boyfriend do his thing was appreciated. But not Miami. Your poor European sleep cycle was not used to this. Toto was wrong about no one watching the races in your time zone. Carlos would make fun of you for it, especially as he was living it. He teased you relentlessly for sleeping through half of the Chinese GP. Oh, the irony of you getting into the sport because your partner was an F1 driver and not the opposite. Even worse, he refused to explain the "lore" as you called it. So you Googled frantically and added the Netflix documentary to your queue. Unexplainable, you found yourself watching Tiktok edits instead. And you were gonna give it to these people with Capcut and a dream. They managed to capture Carlos' sex appeal. You had new obsessions with every clip on your fyp. His hair, his thighs, and of course, him going ballistic on the radio. You had heard your boyfriend being a little grumpy at quali or race positions before. Yapping about strategies or other drivers. Even Charles wasn't immune to a snarky comment. But then you were using your efforts to calm him or to let him talk it out. Now, when it was a loop of him pissed on air, you realized that maybe you liked angry, vocal Carlos a little more than you guessed. The memes about your boyfriend being written by Lana del Rey were sometimes true. He had a poised reputation to uphold. Even when it was just the two of you, he was either stoic or bubbly and funny. If he was sad, he'd be sulky or melancholic. Never angry or possessive. Never letting you see him lose his cool. It wasn't like he didn't trust you enough to let you in. It was more due to the fact that you were precious and fragile to him, breakable. But that was gonna change soon. With special courtesy of his radios during his battles with Oscar.

Carlos liked to have you in your "lovers nest" before Imola. Called you his lucky charm, his amuleto. Truth be told, it was a little early. Cohabitation was usually reserved for "seasoned couples". Carlos and you joked that you weren't living together, you were occasional roommates with benefits. The new arrangement meant that every couple of weeks, between triple headers, you would be in Spain. You knew a frequent flier discount hated to see you coming. Luckily, you had somewhat managed to make your job more remote, negotiating different hours and taking on a freelancing type of everyday tasks.

But like any person in love, you were most productive when alone. Thanks to the copious amounts of coffee you needed to watch the Miami GP, you had pulled 2 all nighters, basically flying through your professional to-do list. As soon as your weekly meeting was over, you started going through the most boring and easy parts of what you do. As soon as your lunch break rolled around, you were napping, hoping no one from the office decided to check up on you.

You're saving up the completed tasks as leverage, waiting for the right moment. And it arrives with the sound of a door unlocking and Carlos' familiar voice echoing through the apartment. You call him in the office space and let him know that you're almost finished. Sending out your tasks to your supervisor, you utilise their checking time and turn it into boyfriend time. Within a few minutes, you're in bed with Carlos, both in lounge wear that left little to the imagination. It was a little game you came up with in the honeymoon period of the relationship. Who could break easier after the long distance. You would think that no kissing would be easy, given that not much else was off limits. With his lips between your neck and your ear, he wasn't helping himself, so he asked.

"Did you manage to stay up for my race, gorgeous?"

"Yes, I watched it live, every second. I think I annoyed everyone on Twitter with my recap, even your fans." you reply.

"Yeah? Any standout thoughts I should know about?" He says, curious.

"Your radios, they sounded, good." You give him nothing, but he knows how to take from you. The gears in his brain turn, looking for a way to make you loose. At the end of the day, he was a simple man. All he had to do was ask.

"If you give me a kiss, I ......" He tries to finish his sentence but his mind blanks. He goes for the low hanging fruit, offering to buy you dream outfits and bags. Even when he puts real money where his mouth is, you refuse. Even though it's stupid, you don't want to give him the impression that you're dating him for the money. Carlos moves on to more individual things, promising to make you cum over and over again, to do the thing that makes your legs shake. You gently remind him they if he kisses you first, you make the rules. Therefore you could easily ask for all that and more. You can see it's driving Carlos mad to not be in control. He pulls out the "big guns".

"If you kiss me, I'll consider the threesome idea with Charles?" he tries.

"That was one dream and I regret telling you about it. No thanks, don't wanna be a homewrecker." you counter.

"I'll actually arrange a threesome with Fernando?" he comments.

"Stop slutting out people on the grid. Just because I fantasized about something a couple times doesn't mean I'm suddenly ready to be Eiffel towered or split roasted or whatever you two freaks could come up with." you hold your ground.

"You are the only guy for me. In F1, or outside of it, I only want to be with you. No sharing." You kiss him, aware that you'd loose. Whatever he had planned for you was gonna be good and you knew it.

"Good. I was gonna be worried if you'd said yes. Now, on the topic of saying things, you were awfully quiet earlier. So, we're gonna play another little game, called team radio." You quirk up an eyebrow and ask him to explain.

"It's easy. You tell me what to do and I'll do it. You don't say anything, I'll stop. I'm all about teamwork and following orders, baby." He boasts.

"Yeah, always, huh? Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. You're a driver. You can't help it. It's in your blood. Being fast, being fucking selfish." You taunt him. Truth is what attracted you most to your boyfriend. His drive, no fucking pun intended.

Carlos pins you down onto the matres, his athlete's reflexes immediately evident. You're trapped beneath his body as he kisses and bites your neck.

"You're already failing at your game there, sweetheart. Thought you'd be the one obeying me. " you remind him. Asking your boyfriend to give up control was like asking a broken clock to display the right time. Yet, even those were right twice a day. Carlos pulled away, waiting for you to tell him what to do. Even though it was his idea, he was already turning against it. Though he had a trick up his sleeve.

You were trying out your new power. First, you asked him to switch to let you be on top. You kissed his neck and chest in a way to bid for time. Usually, by now, his hands would be on your waist, pulling down your underwear. Yet, he was still waiting for a que from you.

"Carlos, can you touch me, please? Just I don't know, rub my clit until I come or something." You ask.

Your boyfriend must be a member of r/maliciouscompliance, because that's what he does. He doesn't take your panties off, he just slides two fingers and presses them against where you need him and rubs. His pace is mundane, not too slow, and not too fast that it feels like he's trying to start a fire. It's just right, the perfect tease.

"You know, you're not very good at this. I know you're all about the flow of things and you shut off your brain when we fuck, sweetheart. But don't make me teach you a lesson here." He says.

You wonder what he means. You can feel his hardness under you, despite the layers of cotton there. You're not a tyrant, so you rub against his cock, needing more. Your futile moans of "Carlos please." don't earn you anything. You're wet, so close thanks to the new stimulation and his repetitive rhythm. You cum and as soon as your boyfriend senses it, he stops.

"Carlos, what the actual fuck?" you ask, your orgasm ruined. He'd never pulled that move before, always touching you more, so you could ride it out, going until your thighs clamp against him in a vice grip.

"You said to rub your clit until you came. You came. I did my job, no?" He replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Oh,so that's how he was gonna play it. Well two people could tease.

You tell him to take off your underwear and his too. Tossing your boyfriend a condom, you ask to see him put it on. He hisses as his fingers trail down his length. Truth it, he's just as needy as you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Do you have a favorite position, hmm Carlos? I wanna see it." You ask. He uses his strength to flip you, ass up in the air. Even in this, he's still careful. With your back arched and face half-burried in the pillow, you say.

"Show me your passion, I want you to go fucking feral, use me like there's no tomorrow."

And he obeys. He burries himself to the hilt inside you. He could be snarky and wait for you to ask him for every thrust. But he lacks the patience for that. He pulls out, almost all the way and thrust back in ferociously. Every "faster" and "harder" he follows. Carlos feels you clench around him, and says.

"If you wanna cum properly, you have to ask. Give team orders to your roque driver."

"Carlos Sainz, you better give me an orgasm and fuck me through it, unless you." You don't get to finish your thought, because your boyfriend's hand makes its way to your clit. This time he makes sure you feel everything to the fullest, giving you more and more. When you recover from your orgasm, you notice that he's still desperate to cum too. You know his tells. His hands gripping your waist a little stronger. The faint drops of sweat on his forehead. The way his thrusts are slower. You could show him that revenge is best served cold. But you can't resist him just after he blows his load, the moment where he's still fucking into you, as if intent on making it stick. On making your pussy memorize the shape of his cock.

"Carlos, fuck, go ahead and come. You deserve it, pretty boy." You say and watch him as he falls apart, bottom lip between his teeth.

You're both spent. After he cleans up and tosses the condom in the trash and you pee, you melt in his arms.

"I think this made me sweatier than Miami." He says. Aftercare sweet talk was obviously not his forte.

"I think that if we go for a second round, my work shift will end. Wanna make your girl steal some company time?" You reply.

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 2)

Cailyn’s eyes widen in stunned silence as she takes in Y/N’s appearance, not too much had changed.  Her little sister who she thought to be dead is standing right in front of her, adding salt to the wound Y/N truly did resemble their mother albeit much taller and muscular, it’s as if Caitlyn is staring at her mother.

The now shattered teacup at Caitlyn’s feet long forgotten as the sisters say nothing as they stare in shock, Y/N’s face a mask of calm however her eyes betray her emotions.  Both look as if they were seeing a ghost and in Caitlyn’s defence she was in a way. 

Taking the leap Caitlyn hesitantly moves forward, her steps calculated yet unsure as she approaches her sister.  “Y/N?”  Her voice lost on her tongue, had it not been for Y/N’s sharp ears she would have missed it, missed the sadness and anger laced in the whisper of her name.  “It’s me smalz” Caitlyn stumbles back hearing the nickname Y/N had given her when they were just children, a plethora of emotions flash across her face as she clutches her chest, her breathing quickening in panic. 

Seeing this Vi is quick to jump into action to assist her girlfriend, wrapping her up in her arms whispering reassurances in her ear.  Y/N on the other hand just stands there, her face void of emotion.  “She’s uh...she’s your sister?” Jinx’s voice wavering with uncertainty, her eyes holding in so much pain.  “Yes”  Y/N whispers, her eyes slowly meeting Jinx’s which have now glossed over with tears.

“Y-you have a sister…here i-in Piltover…I-uh I um” Jinx starts stuttering, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay.  “You uh you knew” she sniffles before continuing, “you knew about m-my past, a-about what I left behind y-yet you never said a-anything” The dam holding her tears burst, her voice wavering as she tries to keep her composure.  “Do you…ahem… d-do you not t-trust me?”  Jinx’s voice soft and raising an octave leaving her so vulnerable.

“What? Of course I trust you”  Y/N’s voice void of emotion, mirroring her face, in too much shock and pain to register her surroundings.  “Then w-why?” Hearing the hurt in her lovers voice brings her back to her senses, she turns to see Jinx backing away ready to bolt for the door. “Trinket wait!” Y/N quickly grasps onto her wrist, her eyes pleading as she gently pulls her closer. “It’s not like that” Her voice breaking as her brows furrow.  “I didn’t want anyone to know”  Y/N’s voice portraying her vulnerability, her honesty, it’s all too much to take in as her hands tremble.   

“As much as I hate to interrupt this, can I have a word with you…in private”  Caitlyn having calmed down approaches the two, Vi giving Jinx a reassuring nod and pulls her one side.  The Kiramman sisters move to the next room leaving Vi and Jinx filled with anxiety not knowing how they will react and not knowing what happened between the two.

Caitlyn leans against the wall, anger now taking over her features.  “You left” her words dripping with venom, Y/N sighs taking a seat on the small window ledge. “I had to” Y/N’s sombre expression only angering the older of the two.  “You had to!? No, you abandoned us! You abandoned ME!”  Caitlyn shouts, her anger bubbling over as her expression hardens.

“I had to”  Y/N remains calm, whispering her response, her eyes refusing to meet her sister’s.  “We thought you died! You were dead! And now what huh?  After all these years of having to grieve your death, you just appear out of nowhere!”  Caitlyn begins pacing the room whilst shouting, tears slowly streaming down her face.  “It’s not like that smalz” Y/N’s voice breaking, her answer only angering her sister more. “THEN EXPLAIN!” Caitlyn grabs the closest object to her hurling it across the room as she seethes in anger.

  After a moment of silence, Caitlyn’s heaving being the only sound to fill the room, the tension growing thicker by the second awaiting an explanation which doesn’t come.  “You what? Fake your death? Huh? You leave us to mourn you while you plan an elaborate get away, just abandon us!”  Caitlyn is fuming, no longer fighting to hold back the tears. 

“Caitlyn don’t” Y/N warns, her voice soft and weak not wanting to fight.  “No Y/N you left! You left and then just reappear.  What’s worse is you didn’t come back for our family no”  Caitlyn stops to laugh through her tears, “No you come back for your girlfriend”  Caitlyn seethes, hurt, confused and angry.  “You think I would have come back if I knew!” Y/N now stands up, raising her voice in anger but stops herself when she sees the hurt flash across her sister’s face.  Caitlyn scoffs, “So what? Our family is nothing to you then?” Hot tears leaving angry, red stains across her face.  “I did what I had to do” Y/N now spoke quietly, sitting back down on the window ledge.  “Really? Or was it what you wanted!?”  Caitlyn presses letting her anger take control of her tongue.

“I DID WHAT WAS NECESSARY!”  Y/N takes to her feet again in anger, shouting at her.  Caitlyn had never seen this side of her sister before, never seen her angry or rather never seen her anger directed at her, causing her to step back in fear.  The terror behind Caitlyn’s eyes make her reel in her anger, to scared to lose control. 

“I left to protect the family” Y/N’s voice soft and broken, turning away from her.  “Protect us from what?” Caitlyn lowers her voice, her anger still present but more controlled. “I was ruining this family”  Y/N sighs in defeat turning her back to the other woman.  “Bullshit” Caitlyn bites back.  “Of course I was smalz, I was tarnishing the Kiramman name”  Y/N wraps her arms around herself for comfort, admitting to not only her sister but herself.  “You really believe that crap” another scoff fuelling Y/N’s frustration.

“It’s the truth, one you were to blind to see”  She explains, trying her hardest to calm down.  “Or was it rather some made up story that you were to blind to see past?”  Caitlyn needs the truth, needs to know why she was left to believe her little sister was dead.  “No Cait, I was trying to protect you, to protect our parents and our legacy.  Just look at me Cait, tell me you were to blind to see the stares, to hear the whispers.  My presence was dragging this family down, mothers seat at the council was dwindling, your opportunities were becoming limited.  All of this because of me, the illegitimate half breed Kiramman daughter.”  Y/N finally allows her tears to fall freely, her back still facing her sister.

“Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice void of anger now as she reaches out her hand to her sister only to have her flinch and retreat form her touch.  Caitlyn’s hand hovering in the air, her eyes filled with a deep sadness as she watches her little sister withdraw from her.  Slowly she lowers her hand, her voice barely above a whisper, “Y/N, I…I’m sorry”  her eyes fixed on her sister’s rigid back.  “Sorry isn’t going to change anything Cait, i…I shouldn’t have come back” Y/N’s reply sending another wave of heartache and anger through the older of the two.

“You should have told me, I could have helped!” Caitlyn raises her voice once more.  “I was protecting you, I was protecting mom and dad!”  Y/N’s volume matching her sister’s.  “And all for what huh? You can’t protect the dead”  Caitlyn’s voice cracks as fresh tears stain her cheeks. 

Kathryn snaps around, her eye wide, breathing shallow and face pale, “What…What did you just say?”  Caitlyn’s eyes widen, of course she didn’t know, “Y/N…Mother she um she’s…gone”

Part 1

[supercap2319]

So I just saw wicked and I desperately need something with Fiyero having his sights set not on Glinda but Glinda’s brother y/n

Y/N Upland always knew that he was different. From a young age, he realized that he didn't fit in with the rest of his family, and not just because he was attracted more to boys than girls. When he was born, Y/N was given the rare gift of ice and snow, bringing great promise to the Upland name.

His mother and father tried to turn his talent into something that would make Y/N think he was better than the rest of the people of Oz, but Y/N didn't want that. He just wanted to be normal. That's why he made himself scarce as much as possible. He dressed in normal clothing and he preferred to be alone, instead of playing with other children his age. Then came Galinda, the pride and joy of the Uplands. Galinda was beautiful and had a certain way of getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The biggest difference between Y/N and his sister… he chose books. She chose looks, and it was certainly working out better for Galinda than Y/N.

She was beloved by all in Gillikin Country. The one everyone thought would succeed, whereas Y/N, would be the first ever person to disgrace his family as the ‘Upland Freak of Nature.’ And maybe they were right. To an extent. The cost of powers always came with a price, and even though Y/N was powerful, he was very bad at controlling them. It was one of the main—if not the most important -- reason to attend Shiz University to gain a better understanding of his powers, and how to properly control them. Unsurprisingly, Galinda was also majoring in sorcery.

That's how he and Galinda arrived on a pink boat to Shiz University, Galinda practically bouncing with excitement. Her pink outfit was pressed and crisp as her nails. “Oh, Y/N! I simply can't wait to attend Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar. I just know I'm going to ace it.” She flashed pretty white teeth that hurt Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his sparkly blue cape over his shoulders. “I'm sure you will, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to help me with this.” He made a small snowflake dance on the palm of his hand before closing it.

“Of course, brosicle.” Galinda laughed.

Once they were close enough to the school, Galinda stood on the back of the boat and sat down on her luggage, looking like a queen on her throne. A few students in blue and brown uniforms waved to them as Galinda waved back. Y/N looked down at the water until they were docked. Stepping off the boat, Galinda and her ten thousand pieces of luggage were greeted by their mother and father at the docks.

“Oh, we're so proud of you!” Their father said, as he and their mother gave Galinda kisses. “Thank you. I love you. Just remember, it's not goodbye. It's farewell.” Galinda told them.

“We love you.” Their mother said, finally taking notice of Y/N. “Oh, and you too, sweetie. You'll be good. Probably not as good as your sister, but good enough.” She said.

“Wow. Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance melt my heart.” Y/N said, tone sarcastic.

Arduenna Upland looks at his son. “You make sure to look after Galinda, Y/N. See to it that she's comfortable, and well taken care of.”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you and mother again for the what? Sixtieth time?” He said.

“Just don't do anything to make trouble.” Arudeena said. He looks at Galinda and smiles with happiness and pride. “Have all your kisses? And you will write?”

“Yes. I love you. Sad time. Miss you already.” Galinda said.

“Popsicle board the boat.” Y/N said.

“They are going to miss me so much.”

“Us.”

“Right. That's what I said. Us.” Galinda said.

…

“Attention, students! It is my honor to announce that Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country will be filling out our student body. Having transferred from the Royal Winkie Academy. Please help him feel welcome. Without making direct eye contact.”

That's how Y/N and all of the student body at Shiz found themselves in the courtyard by the fountain, waiting for some spoiled Prince from Winkie country. Y/N to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as the Prince rode in on a horse. A blue horse. How original. Lines of male and female suitors were watching as the Fiyero walked passed, his black boots echoing against the ground. Some winked at him, while others twirled their hair in hopes of catching the Prince’s attention. He seemed unbothered.

Fiyero had light brown hair with blonde streaks on it. He wore a tailored navy blue suit with golden trimmings. He headed towards the bulletin board and asked a gawking male student to move as a faculty member checked out his ass. Y/N rolled his eyes from his position across from where Fiyero was. He has been studying with Madame Morrible and another student named Elphaba. He was currently reading a book about the history of ice magic in Oz as he watched Galinda swipe a book from a nearby student, and tried to pretend to be uninterested.

“Are you looking for something?” Galinda asked. She flips her blonde hair dramatically. “Or…someone?”

“No, I was…” Fiyero starts, but stops when his eyes look past Galinda and looked at Y/N.

Y/N frowns. Why was Prince McDimples looking at him like that?

“Sorry…what was I doing?” Fiyero asked.

“How would I know?” Galinda shrugged.

“Maybe it was that young man over there.” Fiyero smiles in Y/N’s direction. Galinda follows his gaze and frowns. “That's Y/N. My brother.”

“Brother you say? Well, I fancy I should meet him as well, don't you agree?”

“I guess.” Galinda pouted as Fiyero had eyes for Y/N, but her.

[ohithankyou]

decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.

note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations

buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:

[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]

abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”

buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”

abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”

[when buck is dropping her to the airport]

abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"

buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."

abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."

buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"

abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"

buck: "you, too, abby."

buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:

[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]

abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”

buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”

abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”

buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”

abby: “yeah.”

buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”

—

buck and ali, 2x18:

[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]

ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”

buck: “exactly.”

ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”

buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”

ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”

buck: “…who you are.”

ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”

—

buck and taylor, 5x18:

[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]

taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”

buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”

taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”

buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”

taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”

buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”

taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”

buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”

taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”

buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”

taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”

buck: “yeah. just not together.”

—

buck and tommy, 8x06:

[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]

buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."

tommy: "i wasn't always that way."

buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."

buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"

tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."

buck: "and why not?"

tommy: "because, i know how this ends."

buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."

buck: "what are you saying?"

tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."

buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."

tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."

tommy: "i should go."

buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"

tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."

[beuxwhoyouare]

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

[dreamdragonkadia]

Give me Rook who is struggling to grieve and is angry with the world

Crow!Rook

Spoilers for Veilguard

It really was a funny thing, when you thought about it—the Demon of Vyrantium, Lucanis Dellamorte, half-asleep against your legs. The same man who scoffed at the very idea of rest, claiming he never truly slept. And yet, here he was, his features softened by the edge of dreams, his breathing steady as your fingers threaded through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. It was peaceful, in a way that felt stolen—like a moment ripped from a story you had no right to claim.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of calm. Not since you’d been pulled into this whole tangled web of gods and schemes. A bitter laugh caught in your throat at the thought. Would it be wrong to admit how angry you were about it all? At Solas? At Varric? Especially Varric. The bastard. For dragging you into this mess, for making you care so damn much. For giving you a name—Rook—and then vanishing, leaving you to deal with it all alone. You knew it was grief talking, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Damn Varric and his stupid, sentimental names. Damn him for seeing something in you and putting a label on it that you couldn’t shake. And damn him most of all for leaving you behind.

You swallowed hard, forcing the sadness back down before it could claw its way to the surface. That wasn’t a luxury you could afford—not here, not now. A Crow’s first lesson: never let them see what you’re feeling. You’d learned it well. Too well, maybe. Even Viago had grumbled more than once about how impossible it was to read you. A damn fine Crow, indeed.

But fine Crows didn’t sit around like this, did they? Stroking the hair of a man who had somehow, against all odds, become too close to your heart. A man like Lucanis, who could slip a blade between your ribs as easily as he breathed. Not that you believed he’d ever do it—not now, not to you. He was too close, too vulnerable. And you were no better, your guard lowered in ways that would have once terrified you. It was almost endearing, really, if you ignored how dangerous it was. For both of you.

You sighed, shifting slightly, and Lucanis stirred, his brow furrowing before he relaxed again. The warmth of him seeped into your legs, keeping you in this fleeting moment that could end at any given time. You’d never admit it aloud, but maybe you didn’t mind it. Maybe, for once, you could let yourself have this. Just for a little while longer.

Because who knew when the next storm would hit?

Your fingers paused for a moment, hovering just above his hair. “I thought you didn’t sleep,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucanis grumbled something unintelligible, shifting again so that his head rested more firmly against your lap. “I don’t,” he said after a beat, though his voice was sluggish, the words drawn out. “This isn’t sleeping. It’s... resting. There’s a difference.”

You snorted softly, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Sure, because this is so different from sleeping. Next, you’ll tell me you don’t dream either.”

“I don’t,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it, just the lazy drawl of someone too close to sleep to argue properly. “Dreams are for the dead. And Spite.”

“Charming,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “And yet here you are, practically drooling on me.”

He opened one eye, pinning you in place. “If I drooled, Rook, you’d be the first to know.” His lips curled into a faint smile before the eye slid shut again. “You’re too good at reminding me.”

Your fingers resumed their lazy path through Lucanis’s hair, less to soothe him and more to distract yourself. “You’re lucky you’re cute like this,” you said, letting the teasing edge into your voice. “Otherwise, I’d shove you off and call it a mercy.”

“Cute?” He scoffed, though it came out more like a rumble. “If you think this is cute, you’ve got terrible taste.”

“Better than none at all,” you shot back, earning another quiet grunt. He didn’t respond further, his breathing evening out again, and you were struck by how utterly still he seemed. It was unnerving, seeing someone like him so vulnerable. The pride of house Dellamorte, who always carried himself like he was a moment away from striking. The Demon of Vyrantium, who’d slit a man’s throat before he’d let anyone close enough to see him like this.

But here he was, trusting you with this fragile piece of himself.

Your fingers slowed, your gaze drifting. “You know, I used to hate silence,” you admitted quietly, not really expecting a response. “Too much room for thinking. For remembering.” You swallowed hard, the words threatening to stick in your throat. “But now? Sometimes I think it’s the only thing keeping me sane.”

Lucanis shifted, his head nestling slightly deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you thought he’d finally slipped fully into sleep. The room settled around you, quiet save for the soft rhythm of his breaths. But then a voice—low, guttural, and unmistakably not Lucanis.

“Silence. Is luxury. Enjoy it. While it lasts.”

Spite.

Your eyes flicked down, half-expecting some shift in the demon’s form, but Lucanis didn’t move, not even a twitch. Instead, you could’ve sworn the faintest rumble, like a purr, came from him. The thought of it almost made you laugh.

“Guess that answers whether or not you’re awake,” you muttered under your breath, though Spite didn’t bother responding. It wasn’t like he cared about conversation unless it served his purpose. “Oh, I’m sure silence won’t last,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Not with rampaging gods breathing down my neck. Not with everything falling apart.”

Lucanis—or rather Spite—opened his eyes, just a sliver, those unnerving purple irises locking onto yours. There was something uncomfortably knowing in that gaze, something that made your stomach twist even though you knew Spite wasn’t a threat to you. At least, not right now.

“Then don’t. Fall apart. With it,” Spite said simply. “You are better. Rook.”

The nickname made something shift. You weren’t sure whether to feel comforted or suffocated by it anymore. But before you could decide, Spite’s presence seemed to wane, the glow of his eyes dimming as Lucanis stirred, letting out a soft grunt. For a fleeting moment, you thought he’d woken fully, but no. He merely shifted, his head turning slightly, and let out another one of those quiet, almost purring noises.

You shook your head, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Great. I’m getting pep talks from a demon now,” you mumbled. “How far have I fallen?”

There was no answer, not from Lucanis—nor Spite, either. It left you alone with thoughts you weren’t ready to face.

[knnichs]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

you get injured while playing on court, kinich just happened to be watching.

c. basketball captain! kinich & volleyball player reader

t. character(s) are in a relationship with the reader, gn!reader, fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, highschool/uni au, wc 1.1k

m. @lowkeyren @hanniejji author notes at the end!!

It was obvious your team was winning when it came down to the basics of fundamentals—the defense was thankfully taken care of by Sethos, who had just replaced Xiangling as a libero since she, unfortunately, had decided to opt out playing in the tournament. Sethos was great, though. Being an all rounder, he is quite talented with his ball control.

But when it came to the offense, you were certainly the star when it came to your team's attacks.

You call for the set, and steadily go a few steps to the back of the attacking line. Aether gives the ball smoothly, you step forward — right, left, right — then jumping, quickly swinging your arm towards the ball as you hit the line perfectly. The referee calls the whistle before you land, and the line judge points the flag down as they face the right end of your opponent's court. A seamless play.

You got distracted looking at the scoreboard, 23-22, it was a close match and all your team needed was to win this set before you already won. As you landed from your jump, you lost balance. Eventually rolling over your left ankle, and falling to the ground.

Your teammates checked up on you, surrounding you and helping you sit up before the medic came. The match got paused as they helped you ease the pain with an ice pack, and you were brought to the benches. There, several of the other players did their best to reassure you after your unlucky landing. You don’t feel too beat up about it, you already saw this coming when you checked the scoreboard before ensuring your safety when landing. 

You had only hoped Kinich didn’t see that.

He turns the tv on and gives you the remote, two plates of stir fry noodles on the coffee table and a glass of cold water. Kinich sat right in front of you, trying to set up a comfortable place you can rest in as you recover.

“Sigewinne said it was nothing serious, I’m fine.” You repeated for… maybe the 6th time this evening. All that gave you was a displeased look from your boyfriend, and he raised the ice pack away.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be paying extra attention to you then?” 

“Wait—I was kidding. That was a joke,” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure it was.”

Kinich knew what it felt like having an injury, one during the season at that. It’s devastating—that might be too dramatic. It was just sad knowing you wouldn’t be able to compete until you fully heal. Knowing your coach, Wriothesley, and Beidou, they certainly wouldn’t allow you to play until you got the go sign from your doctor. A very much so sure, go sign.

So, until you got to go on court again, his job was to take care of you.

“Wait one moment. Stay here,” he said before disappearing into the bedroom. He comes back with a few pillows and the world's comfiest comforter (it was his blanket.)

He knew you felt the least bit sad because of this. No matter how minor the injury was, this was the first time you were competing in a mixed tournament, and the first time the boys and girls team from different schools competed for a regional game. It was true you got to play with them multiple times already — your team captains had easily gotten close with each other, so naturally, tune up games or practices with them were common.

Wriothesley cared for his team, so did Beidou, and so did your coach. It was difficult trying to convince everyone you were fine when you already struggled walking to the benches. That’s not including the exhaustion you felt mentally after you sat down—immediately curling up and letting a few tears go was not a good image for you. But your teammates were supportive, they also cared.

Maybe it was a little selfish demanding your coach to bring you back in court, but you were swayed by the overwhelming sense of guilt. That you couldn't play properly for the team, that your opponent ended up getting the point, and that you injured yourself because you got distracted.

“I mean, in the end, you tried your best.” He put the ice bag back on the table once he had noticed it might be getting too cold for you. “That’s what matters most, right?” 

Kinich hands you the glass of water. “And you shouldn’t feel that beat up about it. They all said you need to rest so you could recover faster, just do as they say.”

You paused for a moment, he took the glass from you as you finished drinking, and handed you the plate full of food. Then, the boy went to sit next to you as you laid on the couch. He shuffled around trying to find a proper position, and your legs ended up on top of his lap. 

“This might just be one of the most disappointing games I’ve ever done.”

He brings a hand to your knee, trying to reassure you by drawing figures across your skin. 

“You’ve done worse,” and you throw a part of the blanket towards him.

You take a fork full of the noodles—savory and sweet, exactly what you needed after the game. Kinich knew you always had a craving for something sweet, especially after training, when you’re tired. You two end up in a convenience store buying froyo at some point while you eat in the back of the car, just talking about what had happened.

“They all care about you. I care about you.” He whispers.

Kinich stretched a little to reach you, pressing his lips to your forehead in a kiss. One hand holding yours as you place the plate on the table again. Thankfully this couch fits the both of you, otherwise you wouldn’t be basking in the feeling of his arms slowly snaking up your sides, enveloping you in a warm hug.

“I’ll clean up your injuries for you, I’ll come to your games, I’ll sit here in silence until god knows when—I’ll do anything for you, because I love you. And I will continue to.” 

He holds your hand again, your left this time, and you notice a familiar shine through your fingers. The promise ring he gave you way back when the two of you had your first anniversary with your relationship just two years ago with your favorite color as the gem.

“So please, rest.”

lowkey based on what happened to me during training last… last last week?? please do not play while having a fever!!! ANYWAY this is my first work for this au im doing cough there will be a masterlist for that soon. i fear. after this ill be working on other volleyball stuff esp with scara & sethos i AM STUDYING SETHOS’ CHARACTER RIGHT NOW. hes so fun & silly i love him

anyway, do expect more of these kinds of fics (volleyball au & highschool au) because ive been having intense brainrot for them recently. and i think i did well capturing kinichs character here bc ,,, hes a silly man . who (in my perspective) teases people who hes close with while still being respectful. I ALSO DONT KNOW IF PROMISE RINGS ARE A THING IN OTHER COUNTRIES pardon me if its not … i thought it was cute 😝 okay thats enough yapping SEE YOU

@ staarri 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai, plagiarize,or modify any of my works.

[osakhee]

like that, perv!sohee x reader

! obsessive behavior, voyeurism (from both sides), reader kinda take revenge on sohee, dry humping, blowjob, a little bit of spit... some cum eating kinda...

based on the song like that by babymonster

note : i LOVE that song so badly but the lyrics are absolutely insane i couldn't stop thinking about it its been WEEEKKSSSS and finally i decided to do something out of it... lyrics will be written in red, please enjoy :3

if you ask him, sohee will tell you it's not that bad. no, he's not being too much. it's not too much when he follows you around the corridors, it's not too much when he tries to take pictures of you when you wear special kind of outfits, it's not too much when he sits behind the bench in front of your building so he can get a peak of you in your pajamas when you get close to the window. he likes you, it's a common behavior, isn't it?

you know sohee has been keeping an eye on you since the start of the year. you know he's been watching closely, a little too closely. you used to have a quite normal relationship with him, just two classmates that share a lot of classes together, and sohee has always been friendly. you don't really know what happened, but his behavior flipped after the first month. he used to sit next to you and he loved chatting between classes, but you soon found him sitting at the very far back of the class. even if you thought it was in your head, you could swear you felt his eyes on you the whole time. and sohee avoided you in the hallways. sometimes he would walk very close to you, without looking at you and his gaze fixed on his shoes.

you were a bit sad, sohee could have been such a nice friend through this school year, and you kept wondering what you did wrong. did you do something that hurt him? the whole time, you felt really terrible as if sohee's behavior was your fault. maybe just seeing you made him feel bad and he couldn't do anything about it, so you started mirroring the way he acted with you.

it's only after months of feeling a pang of guilt in your heart every time you saw him that you finally caught him. you arrived late to an early morning class, and you had to walk behind sohee to reach your desk. that's when you saw on the screen of his phone a picture of you in a very weird angle, probably a shot taken really fast and in an awkward way. and you couldn't miss the way sohee was slowly palming himself through his pants, his finger drawing circles on the faint bulge poking at his jeans. it felt dirty, and disgusting, you hated every part of it. the pretty and innocent face of your classmate turned out to be one's of a pervert that got off by seeing you.

since that moment, you became more aware of sohee's acts toward you. the way his eyes would quietly travel your curves, his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants each time you met him in the corridor and the weird tension each time he had to speak to you. after a while, you started finding funny how desperate he was. he was probably dreaming of having you all to himself, probably fucking you or anything else he could have in bed, but in the end, he was only jerking off in the school's bathrooms.

instead of confronting him in front of your class like you had decided at first, you decided to play with his mind. just because it was much funnier that way. on the days you shared classes with sohee, you started wearing your most revealing clothes, you created appealing outfits to fuck with his head. and you couldn't help the smile on your face when sohee would rush out of the class the second it ended, or the blush that creeped on his cheeks and up to his ears. and the best of all, sohee was completely oblivious. he had no idea you were playing with his heart -and dick, for some reasons-, he just thought to himself that he got really lucky to meet you.

you knew sohee would often follow you home. it's the part that creeped you out the most, and you thought it was also the most pathetic of them all. fucking his fist at school with his tshirt in his mouth to muffle his moans was a thing, but jerking off to the sight of someone while sitting outside of their home was another level of desperation. you started walking more often in underwear in front of the window, only closing the blinds when you were sure sohee left his poorly hidden spot.

each day only made sohee grow more addicted to you. just your scent when you walked past him, or the outline of your body when the lights were dimmed in your apartment, it was enough for him to go over the edge all the time. he spent another evening sitting beside the bench in front of your building, his eyes quickly wandering to the open window on the first floor so he would catch a glimpse of you taking off your hoodie and ruffling your hair. god why do you need to be attractive to him? why is he feeling that way each time he sees you? just like any other day, sohee couldn't help himself, his hand quickly making its way inside his boxers so he could massage his dick to the sight of you. more than often, he'd end up covering his underwear in the sticky liquid after he wiped his hand on it before making his own way home.

sohee wished you would never know. his situation wasn't the best, and he could only dream of having you on your knees for him, he wished he could take you with him and hide you somewhere so you'd be his forever. sometimes he felt like you would catch him taking sneaky pictures of you and it made his whole body burn with anxiety, his heart pounded in his chest to the point he believed it was going to jump out. he felt ashamed, but how else could he act? he liked you, he wanted you so much, he couldn't think of any other ways to fulfill his desires and needs without having to tell you. probably because he would melt on the spot if you ever asked him about it.

one more evening of watching sohee fumble after he came in his pants outside your window and you had enough. he was so desperate, you were sure taking care of him was going to be a dream come true to him. you almost felt pitiful when you imagined his pretty eyes turning wide. after all, that's all he wants, you were doing him a favor! maybe if you have fun, it wouldn't be a one time thing. you decided to consider it like a punishment, it made you feel a little better about it. a revenge, a way to fight back for his nasty acts.

you walk into class and look right at sohee. you meet his eyes and he immediately looks away, you can already see the red that paints his cheeks. you smile to yourself, he's so easy to play with, you couldn't wait to make his mind spin. for one of the first time, the class seems endless. you're really passionate about your studies, but your brain is focused on sohee and what you planned for him.

and when finally your class ends, you quickly get out so you could catch up on sohee. he's walking away so fast in the hallway that you almost lose him, it's like you're taking his place when he chases you home at the end of your day. when he finally slows his pace, you extend your hand to grip his wrist. sohee jumps in surprise and turns to you, his heart is pounding so loud in his ears he feels like he's gonna pass out. he can barely recall how your voice sounds like, it's been so long since you spoke to him, and when you call his name, he feels weak in his knees.

"sohee? can i speak to you for a second?"

"is there... something wrong..?"

his voice sounds so hesitant, he doesn't even try to free his wrist but the feeling of your fingers burn his skin to the bone. his breath gets shorter, his throat feels so dry he doesn't know if he'll be able to speak again. he licks his lips and looks down at your hand, where your grip is tight on him. you clear your throat and sohee looks back at you again.

"you know we have this essay due at the end of the week... you always do well, i figured out you could help, what do you think?"

"oh um... well maybe, when do you-"

"come over tonight? is that okay?"

"oh..."

sohee couldn't believe it, his flushed ears couldn't believe it. the forbidden door of your home finally opens, he will be surrounded with your scent, your clothes, and you all in the same place. he can't help but the warmth that colored his face with nervousness travels down his body to start a fire in his lower stomach. he looks away and nods, freeing his wrist from your fingers. he believes the smile that appears on your lips is just a grin of relief because he'll be studying with you.

you couldn't sit still while looking at the large clock on the wall, the seconds are ticking abnormally slowly to you. you look back at sohee and you could feel his anticipation from his seat, for once he seems really concentrated on your teacher's speech. as if he wanted time to stop so he would never have to follow you to your dorm room. he can't maintain eye contact with you, he wonders how he's going to even speak to you once it's just you and him.

the clock finally shows 5pm and you gather your notebooks. sohee is stuffing his paper sheets in his bag as slow as possible, he can feel your presence next to him and waiting for him. the silence between the both of you is unbearable to him when you walk home, you try not to innocently ask him how he knows what path to follow. you open your door and sohee wonders if he still have the time to run away. suddenly his spot behind the bench outside feels really safe and comforting. but you lock the door behind him, and he knows he's trapped for god knows how long with you. how is he supposed to stay concentrated? you're everything in his mind, you devour every little thought he can have, his blood flows in his veins so he can wake up for another day and see you. after all, he just likes you. just a normal amount.

you offer a seat to sohee at your desk, there's only one chair, you just want to be polite. you drag the chair closer to your bed so you could sit in front of him, and once sohee is settled, you plan can finally start. sohee's leg bounces nervously on the floor and he fidgets with his fingers to avoid putting any kind of attention on you. he knows if he does it's going to be impossible for him not to get hard immediately. you walk behind him, your hand rests on his shoulder and reaches the back of neck, brushing your fingers in his brown hair. sohee is completely frozen in place.

"sohee? did you hear what i said?"

oh. sohee jerks his head up to look at you from the corner of his eye, and you make your way in front of him. he can't escape you anymore.

"what did you say..?"

"i said, i know the look upon your face, you know?"

you walk so close to him sohee can feel your scent filling his mind, he feels like his heart is going to explode, he wants to hand it to you so you could keep playing with it as much as you want. you sit down on his trembling lap, your hands on his shoulders, and the boy in front of you is just a mess under your eyes.

"i might know what you need sohee. if i show you that i know what it's like, would you like that?"

"w-what do you mean..?"

"if i come close baby, do you think you will like that? much closer?"

your breath hits sohee's lips, his desperate eyes plead you to make the first move, to make him realize he's not having another dream. instead, you cover his jaw with warm kisses, you suck a little on his skin, your fingers tangled in his hair. sohee grips his knees so tightly he can feel his nails digging into his pants. you trail your mouth down his neck, you discover every hidden mole on his throat, your teeth sink into his skin and you listen to sohee's whines with a smile. you draw your body closer, your hips pressing down on his. you tug a little on his tshirt to reveal his collarbone, tracing the curves with your tongue, and sohee swears he's going to lose his mind. he's going to wake up, and nothing is going to be real. or if it is, he's going to be home soon but empty, you steal everything, his brain, his heart, his lungs, his secrets. and when you suck on his shoulders to paint pretty red spots, it's like you're sucking his soul away. when you stand up to look at him, his eyes are heavy with need, his hair already feel damp and some strands stick to his temple, his lips are a darker shade of pink probably from staying between his teeth the whole time.

"are you scared sohee? because if you do, i know the way to make sure you never leave."

your voice turns into a whisper that sends a delicious shiver to his spine.

"baby would you like that?"

sohee finally looks into your eyes. the way he nods so eagerly and desperately makes you smile, you slowly roll your hips into his and watch his face contort in pleasure. his eyes flutter shut, his head falls back, exposing his neck. you immediately attack his skin again, and sohee's hands that clawed at his pants catch your shoulders, he pushes you closer to his body as you cover his throat with hot kisses. you can feel his hips rut into yours messily, the hard bulge growing in his clothes brushes you each time. you let all your weight on him and grind your core harder, this time sohee moans audibly. the noises he makes fall into your ears like a melody, one that stay in your mind and play over and over again. one that gets you obsessed.

sohee is breathless, he feels so hot it makes him dizzy. if you don't stop your actions anytime soon he will definitely cum in his pants. it's not new to him, but in front of you it's embarrassing. he wanted to hide. deep down, he wanted to have you watching him, he wanted you to know, to make him yours too, but his innocent facade is almost unbreakable. he's shy, he's embarrassed, you know you'll need so much more to melt his armor.

"sohee baby... how do you feel? tell me."

"mhh i... c-can i have more..."

you can finally feel the crack in his voice, you're slowly making your way inside his locked mind. your hand travels down his chest and under his tshirt that's starting to cling to him, your nails graze his skin and you can feel his shivers under your fingertips. you hips rock against his to a steady rhythm, sohee's hands finally resting on your waist after he found the courage to hold it. his high pitched whines fill your room, he can't hide the pleasure that courses through his veins and burns in his stomach. when you nibble on his earlobe, you feel sohee's grip tighten and he moans your name, his hips twitch against yours in a desperate need of release.

"you like that? better than your hand hm?"

"s-so much better..."

"right baby... i know..."

"please p-please don't stop i'm s-so close..."

it would be too easy to let sohee have his way. he guides your hips into his with weak hands, his moans grow louder each second. you finally stop all movements and you hear sohee's breath stop in a silent whimper, like a desperate cry. when you look at him, he's so pathetic, tears shine in his eyes and threaten to fall off his eyelashes, his face is flushed and his hair messy from how many times he pushed them away. his tshirt now sticks to his chest that moves heavily, and when you get up from his lap, you can see the wet spot that formed on his sweatpants from how much he's been leaking under you.

you walk around him, almost like a predator that finally trapped its prey. and that's how sohee feels like under your hungry gaze, as if you are going to eat him whole. you're already tearing up his mind, the flow of thoughts frozen from the pleasure so intense it makes his head spin. your hand holds his jaw from behind, you tilt his head the way you want and play with his face with your fingertips. each touch sends jolts of pleasure through sohee, making his cock twitch in his pants. the way you whisper in his ear has his eyes rolling back in his head.

"is that what you want sohee?"

"i want- i w-want it so much..."

"don't worry baby, i'll make you feel way better than in your dreams."

you kiss his temple, your hand rest on his neck and you push his head to the side. your lips go down his jaw while your hand goes under his damp tshirt, you rub his chest with your nails and watch him lean into your touch. sohee almost cries when your hands leave him again, as if being far from you is now painful. he doesn't know a world where your hands aren't on him anymore.

your hands hold his knees and you part his legs enough to place yourself in between. sohee can't get his eyes off you anymore, the mask he tried to keep on for so long finally breaks, he gets drunk on your touch, he craves your gaze into his, if he ever felt shame for a while, it got wiped out by the pleasure and the lust. your hand grabs the bulge between his legs, you massage him very slowly through his pants. it's a sweet torture but sohee wishes he could feel it everyday, all the time. you finally pull down his sweatpants, you lean closer into his thighs so you can give kisses to his cock through his underwear. the fabric is already wet from the amount of precum that keeps leaking from his swollen tip, your tongue traces the outline of his hard length through the fabric and sohee can barely hold it any longer.

"m-more... please g-give me more..."

"i know baby."

you finally slide sohee's boxers down and the heavy sigh he lets out once his cock is free has you shivering. it throbs painfully under your gaze, his pink tip desperately calling for you. you lift your eyes to meet sohee's when you open your mouth, you let your tongue rest flat on his slit. immediately sohee's hands cover his face but he can't hide the moan that erupts from his throat, and the others once your hand grab his dick. you let spit dribble from your tongue and down his length while you give him slow strokes, mixing it with his wet arousal.

sohee feels like he could cum at any moment, especially if you keep jerking him off with that look on your face. you take his tip between your lips and eagerly swirl your tongue around it, you just play with the head of his cock for a while until sohee's cries of pleasure get louder. his hands grip your head and his fingers tangle in your hair when you take him deeper inside your hot mouth. you feel him hit the back of your mouth, he's pushing your head down but you try to keep your own steady pace. the way your tongue goes all the way up his length and circle around his tip has sohee breaking apart, he can't stop himself from getting louder and louder. he can feel the tension so close to break and burn his insides, he feels like he's gonna catch on fire soon if you keep going.

you never planned to stop. you jerk him off a little more and tease his slit with your thumb while covering his cock with messy kisses, and when you put him back into your mouth you can tell sohee can't hold it any longer. you let him have his way just for once, his grip on your hair tightens and he fucks his hips up into your mouth to finally chase his orgasm. it comes crashing on him, he buries himself as deep as he can in your throat before stilling his hips. you feel his warm cum fill your mouth, you let it drip on your chin and down your neck. sohee finally lets go of your hair and lean back on the chair, he's spent and exhausted, he's convinced he'll never feel that kind of pleasure again. when he looks down and sees your face covered with his sticky load, he swears he could cum again right on the spot. you slowly get up and kiss him, you share with him nothing but roughness when you play with his tongue and taste his seeds with him. you leave him panting even more as if his breath isn't already ragged by the high he's coming back from.

sohee smiles like an idiot. he feels like he's in heaven, and heaven is definitely your room, with you in it. he feels like he doesn't need to hide anymore, he gets up from the chair and lets his hand rest on your cheek, wiping away the remains of his cum. his eyes are still blurry but the way he looks at you could almost melt your heart. you pull his sweatpants and underwear up and tidy up his shirt, you savor the confused look on sohee's face. you reach for his hand and walk him around your room, you head for the door. he's still as pathetic and clueless as ever. you open the door and drag him outside, he just stands there in complete disbelief. back from heaven and straight to hell.

"i never give pervs like you a second chance. hope you remember that day though, you'll never feel like that again even in your wildest dreams."

you close the door shut.

YAYYYYY PERV SOHEE YAYYYYYY i love him

[omega-e123]

Dude I’ve been having thots,, I must share them with you and get ur opinion or reaction especially since a lot of ur shadow smuts revolve around a certain hedgy having a breeding kink. Imagine if you’re on birth control tablets and he sees you taking them one day and you tell him what they’re for, I feel like he’d either get all grumpy and sad because oh boy does he have a massive breeding kink even if he knew rationally you probably were on some sort of contraception (that’s even if it could happen) or he’d get all gloomy n sad but would refuse to tell you because he thinks it’s silly and immature to feel that way especially if you’ve been together for a while, but I feel like he’d probably let it slip when you’re both getting freaky afterwards because it would mix in with his dirty talk about how hes gonna fuck the birth control out of you 💀

!! NSFW !!

This is in the time he’s not ready to be a father, but has the kink.

Shadow seems like the type of person to have discussed safety and methods prior along with whether or not if it’s even possible. He’s not going to take that risk, especially at your expense.

During the season, sometimes Shadow magically forgets. Absolutely fixated on you. Remembering causes him to get frustrated. The hell are you on pills for? You should be wanting a child just as mush as he does!

“Hmph. Do what you want. I won’t let something minor such as a pill get in my way. ”

Oh boy, if it moves on to sulking. The rush of emotions Shadow gets are definitely being internalized until it’s time to get down and dirty 100%. Like a balloon bursting as it slowly gets filled up with air. Those are rough sessions. Your poor legs won’t be working for a while.

Outside of rutting season, he rationally knows you’re on birth control pills. It still doesn’t lessen the embarrassment after Shadow’s hormones have calmed. His cheeks are going to match his gay highlights.

If the first time was spontaneous and he found out later down the line after multiple attempts, Shadow would absolutely be upset and annoyed. A pouty hedgehog is in your hands.

Grabbing you by the hips, Shadow leans in close. His breath tickling your lips, “You’re telling me all this effort attempting to put a baby in you was a waste of time?” A yelp is forced out of you when his hand slid down to firmly grab your ass. “Or perhaps, I need to try harder?”

Shadow struggling even more to keep his distance away from you, now knowing you’re on birth control. The pill is 99% effective and he is desperately trying to convince himself that 1% chance of it failing. Even then, that’s only if you’re taking them perfectly. Typical use is 91% effective. Odds are stacked against him, but Shadow is the ultimate life form goddamnit!

“Seven out of a hundred get pregnant on the pill… I’m determined to make you one of them.”

[lavenlady]

Hai hello!

I really like your work and the way you present the characters ^^

Would you be interested in writing megatron or Optimus prime (whichever you prefer :3) x Organic/cybertronian reader? Maybe she was previously Sentinel's partner who he got as a gift for killing the rest of the primes? Maybe they knew her earlier as Orion pax or D-16?

I really like your work

I am happy that you liked it! I have decided to do both but more on D-16 side.

The reader will be a minicon - small but powerful!

Enjoy :3

✿Special Gift✿

D16/Megatron and Orion Pax/Optimus Prime

➤ You were 'taken in' by Sentinel Prime

➤ Forged a little after the betrayal so you do not know the truth, but found the perfect Prime suspicious - he was just too perfect

➤ You were a minicon and minicons posses the ability to power up cybertronians, so Sentinel saw usefulness in you and decided to let you keep your cog, even then you only reached the hip of a miner bot

➤ It was a win-win for Sentinel, he just kept getting more and more powerful after his successful 'promotion' - a special gift that made him more of an Icon in Iacon

➤ Oh how many times he showed off with your help and called you his partner

➤ You were usually by Sentinels side in Iacon but were always left behind when the Prime went searching for the Matrix of Leadership

➤ You couldn't really go anywhere, but after the Iacon 5000 race you were intrigued by those two miners - Orion Pax and D-16

➤ You probably saw how Darkwing threw them into Sub-level 50 and decided to follow them

" So you are the miners that took part in the race. I never knew I would see this in my entire onlining! "

➤ You accompanied them to the surface and finally got to know everyone better, mainly D-16 and Orion Pax

" You sneaked into the archives, nearly got beaten and was close to fall into the void?! On a daily basis?! And I thought I had an exciting life! "

" You are on top of the sector and use a steel bag to train?! You are so strong! I bet you could snap someone in half! "

➤ Then finally finding out the truth...

" Ha! I knew it! There was something fishy about him! "

➤ And others finally got their cogs and you got an upgrade, but couldn't really check as you had to run away

➤ Others had quite a difficulty in transforming and thus you decided in the end to cling to D-16

➤ Then High Guard takes you hostage and D-16 takes on Starscream, but you couldn't just sit there and watch

➤ So you jumped to help D-16, transforming into his fusion cannon, but quite more upgraded

➤ Now you can imagine how easier it was to find them when D-16 fired into the sky

➤ Then Sentinel's pawns capture you and you finally met Sentinel again

➤ All is the same, but as D-16 is about to be branded, you finally transform and jump at Sentinels face trying to buy others time

➤ In the end Sentinel breaks your knee joints to keep you in place and that fuels even more D-16's rage - or rather said fury

➤ His new friend used and forced to do as the false Prime says? Not gonna happen again

➤ Then the branding, the fight that you decided to take part in only wishing for the treachery of Sentinel to end, not expecting Orion's actions

➤ And finally Orion gets shot

➤ You and D-16 didn't want that to happen and especially didn't plan on killing their friend

➤ It was D-16 decision to drop down Orion into the void, but you couldn't really find the reason to leave him - you have to get rid of the false prime still, it was his fault after all

➤ You and now Megatron, after getting the Megatronus Prime's cog and a power up, plan to fix Iacon all together

➤ Then Optimus Prime comes and the battle followed by banishment

➤ You didn't know who to choose, you really liked both of your friends

➤ But at the same time....

➤ Not everything can be solved without violence, it was needed to be done and you will - for now - stand by it

➤ Feeling sad that you have lost some of your friends, but at least you still have D- Megatron left

➤ He promised a new, better future and you are going to help in achieving it, even if it ment to offline in process

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

(anyway here is the height I imagine the reader having

The cybertronians in Tf One are huge so minicons have to be quite bigger to fit with proportions - at least i think)