#these are just some of my top songs at the moment

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you don��t understand how mc is literally me and i am here. she’s me to a molecular level. no joke, i never read an mc that was so deeply similar to me it hit me like a gut punch.

reading this while listening to the playlist was truly an experience (which was so good btw i LOVE your music taste). can we talk about how absolutely gorgeous your writing is for a second??? the way you craft your sentences are so satisfyingly beautiful it’s insane!! some of my favorite quotes:

“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.”

“Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over.”

“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.”

“You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.”

“‘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.’”

i don’t know if you’ve ever read this book, but the vibes of this fic reminds me a lot of the starless sea by erin morgenstern!! literally my favorite book EVER. if you haven’t read it then i think you would like it a lot!! ^^

this is truly one of those types of stories that you come across and it just makes you absolutely fall in love with reading. the type that makes you want to pick up a pencil and feverishly write out the story that’s been in your head for years. if this story was a song, to me it would be dog days are over by florence + the machine. it just gives you that feeling that everything will work out and everything will be okay and this too shall pass. i love it so so much and i’m so happy that you decided to share it with the world so that people like me and so many others could come across it and read it for themselves! ♡♡♡

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!

[woniverse-writes]

Dancing with ENHA as their Secret-Girlfriend!Idol!Reader

summary: enha dancing with their secret significant other 

word count: 4.2k

warnings: suggestive at times, not proofread, fem reader

Lee Hee Seung: 

It was public knowledge that you and Heeseung were friends since you had trained together at one point

However it was NOT public knowledge that you two actually ended up becoming a couple after you both debuted 

With that being said, fans were overjoyed any time you were seen together, always thinking your interactions were so cute and wholesome

One day a video of the two of you pre-debut got leaked

It was a clip of a practice video of you dancing to “Bonnie & Clyde” by DEAN

The choreography was good and you both danced well, but anyone watching could tell that the two young trainees were nervous to be dancing with each other 

Fans of both groups thought the video was pure gold though since it showcased how much you’d both grown as performers, and the fact that it was another interaction between their favs

The video trended on social media for about a week or so before the chatter and excitement was redirected to a NEW dance practice video… 

which just so happened to be of you and Heeseung recreating the choreography from so many years in full

It was a well filmed, high quality performance 

The two of you had even gone the extra mile and re-recorded the song as a duet, making it a full cover

Any trace of the awkwardness from your trainees days had been nowhere to be found

You and heeseung were dripping confidence and sex appeal as you danced together

A majority of the dance was spent with the the two of you in close contact- his arms around your waist, your palms trailing down his chest, him hands tracing the outline of your body

you were practically in your own little bubble and that shit read very clearly on camera

Of course your fans went even more feral

Twitter was full of praise for your growth and everyone was saying how you and heeseung must be so much closer now than back then 

(if only they knew just how close👀)

And of course there were some smart fans (that unfortunately probably got called delusional) who could sense the thick sexual tension between the two of you

✪ ‘Y’all- there is absolutely NO WAY these two aren’t fucking😭’ ✪ ‘I genuinely feel like i’m interrupting something’ ✪ ‘Heeseung… if you’re not gonna get to work please step aside so i can have my turn with y/n’

It definitely was added to every single “top kpop moments of 20XX” video and thread

And since you’re both evil-

You each had made casual posts on sns about the process after

‘Did engene enjoy our little throwback collab?’ and the bitch posted a mirror selfie of the two of you sweaty and half dressed🧍‍♀️

Park Jong Seong:

Jay always loved watching you dance

Tbh jay loved to watch you do anything- but dancing was one of his favorites

Any time you had a comeback, he always wanted you to teach him the choreography as soon as possible- whether it was cute, sexy, or fierce- that boy was gonna learn it 

Which meant when the song actually dropped he’d be the first to make a tik tok with you every time

And of course the opposite rang true as well- 

Whenever enhypen had a comeback you were the first to learn the new choreo

The tik toks are always so cute too-

Like- that’s your man so of course you’re gonna be cute with him lmao

It’s mostly because you know he gets flustered so easily when you tease him or flirt with him in front of the other members or staff

It’s especially hectic when your comeback schedules overlap because trust their will be new tik toks every other day

You guys got especially brave when enha was promoting “bite me”...

Instead of just doing the pre-chorus together and posting that like the others, you did the whole pre-chorus AND chorus… WITH THE PARTNER WORK

If fans weren’t already going feral over the boys dancing with partners before, they definitely lost their shit at your mini collab

✪ ‘Oh my god… there’s no way this is real’ ✪ ‘Jay… your hands are a little low there buddy😅’ ✪ ‘So they just casually covered half of ‘Bite Me’ on a random Thursday? Okay cool’ ✪ ‘THE WAY JAY LOOKS AT Y/N OMFG’

It actually took fans longer than expected to realize you were filming together even when your promotional schedules didn’t lineup, so of course rumors started eventually

However it seemed like your fans were just rolling with it since your interactions were fun an cute (they’ve been praying for a collab stage between your groups since debut)

There was one time you filmed with heeseung instead of Jay and it lowkey threw everyone for a loop

Was it intentional? Absolutely not! Well- maybe slightly 

You and your members were curious to see if anyone would react- had your fans even noticed that you only ever film with Jay? (yes, they noticed it right away)

So you can imagine the comments when you posted of you and Heeseung doing the choreo for “brought the heat back”

✪ ‘Uhmmm?? What happened to your man???’ ✪ ‘Omg no mom and dad are fighting‘ ✪ ‘HEESEUNG PLZ TELL ME YOU CAN FIGHT BRO’ ✪ ‘Peace and love but where is Jay…”

Yeah… it gave y’all a good laugh 

There have also been plenty of time where you’ve posted your own little dance covers without Jay, or even just danced to his songs casually on live while jamming out, which always excited fans of both groups

Basically his fans and yours know SOMETHING is going on between you two and for some reason no one really talks about it like you’d expect them to…

Sim Jae Yun:

You and jake had been invited to be part of an end-of-the-year collab stage

It was supposed to be a fun little performance between a few different male and female idols

At the time- the only people who knew about your relationship were your groupmates, meaning it was especially hard to see each other without getting caught

However when your manager gave you the news that you’d be collaborating with a few different idols, and that your boyfriend just so happened to be one of them, your heart started to race 

You attended a meeting with your manager in which you were informed that you’d be working with Lee Isa, Kim Gaeul, Kang Minhee, Park Jisung, and of course Jake

The stage would have three parts- a section for the girls, a section for the boys, and then one where you all came together 

The overall vibe was fun and flirty, and you’d each be partnered with someone

The second the idea of “partners” was introduced, you and jake immediately made (what you thought was subtle, but was definitely not) eye-contact

The meeting wrapped up and you were immediately conversing with you were manager, trying to subtly convey how you thought it would make most sense for you and Jake to be partners 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was doing the exact same thing

Luckily, it worked and both of your managers were able to get the two of you to be partners

You all began preparing immediately, and since some of the partner work was different for each pair you’d all broken off to learn separate bits of choreography 

You and Jake had begun working on a few different combinations, since the song decisions hadn’t been entirely finalized yet

The first one you worked on was to “Invitation” by JUNNY and Gaeko, which totally fit the vibe of the overall stage concept

Except it was maybe a bit TOO flirty (or perhaps that was just you and Jake)

You were easily able to connect and play into the each other’s artistry

Your relationship had always been full of playful energy and putting a smile on the other person’s face, so dancing together just felt like another extension of that

The choreography was intense and fast, hitting every accent and ad-lib, requiring a lot of texture and groove

but after learning the steps and running it once or twice to get the moves down it felt like second nature, especially since all your charisma and stage presence was really just you having fun with your boyfriend 

Lots of behind the scenes content was filmed and unfortunately… some got leaked to the public 

Somehow yours and jake’s first dance practice got leaked, as well as Jisung and Isa’s and the video of yours, Gaeul, and Isa’s section

This was before anything was announced to let the public know a collab was even happening so fans were shocked on so many levels

✪ ‘We’ve got (your group), enhypen, ive, nct, stayc, and cravity members doing a collab?? Where did this even come from???’ ✪ ‘Gaeul, Y/n, and Isa dancing to “greedy” by Ariana Grande was not something i knew i needed- welcome back “wow thing” collab group’ ✪ ‘Jake and Y/n look like they’re having so much fun together i love them :(‘ ✪ ‘I feel like I've never seen Jake have this much fun while dancing! You can tell he really feels comfortable dancing with Y/n’ ✪ ‘The way they look at each other, oh i feel sick’

Unfortunately after that all the songs and choreography had to be changed :/

Park Sung Hoon:

Close by Nick Jonas

As the main dancer of your group, your company loves to highlight you any chance they get

This resulted in you doing frequent dance videos, collabing with other idols in order to reach outside your normal audience and hopefully attract some new fans

Sunghoon, ever the supportive boyfriend, makes sure you tell him every time a new video is going to be released so that he can have youtube open and ready for when it drops

texts you immediately after about how talented you are and how proud he is of you for taking on the challenges of choreographing and coming up with new ways to showcase your skills as a performer

Sometimes will just randomly pull up your videos and start watching them while y’all are hanging out

You had always told him beforehand who you’d be dancing with and he never expressed being bothered by any of your idol partners-

until he realized you yourself were picking them

You were sitting in his bed one day (watching one of your recent videos lol) when he suddenly looked up at you with the saddest puppy eyes ever 

“How come you’ve never asked me to dance with you☹️”

Oh he’d be so pouty and sulky omg

You’d been expecting that question for a while honestly

“Baby I’d love to dance with you, but would your company let us?” 

sunghoon hated that you had to be logical all the time, so he just rolled over to bury his face in your stomach, and groaned in despair

(This drama queen)

He eventually just wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted his head to rest his chin on your tummy, peering up at you

“Can we ask them tomorrow…”

You couldn’t stop the affectionate giggle that left you as you played with his hair and nodded softly

The next day, you talked to your manager first- proposing your next idea

Now you see- your manager loves sunghoon, your whole staff does really

They all think the two of you are perfect together, and would honestly probably announce you were official right this second if hybe let them

So it wasn’t a problem convincing your team to let you dance with your boyfriend

Of course that wasn’t exactly the case for Sunghoon’s team

It definitely made sense why they weren’t totally onboard with the idea- being worried about dating rumors and such- but you and hoon hadn’t had a single rumor involving each other up to that point!

They eventually caved and agreed, realizing it would be a good opportunity since all the other idols you had invited so far were all known as well-respected dancers in the industry

You ended up decided on going for a more intimate and contemporary vibe than you had done so far

“Close” by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo was the song you had agreed on using, having had already talked about choreographing to this song together just for fun at some point

You had worked with a choreographer from hybe, expressing your vision and showing some of the ideas you had, and the process went extremely smooth

The dance ended up being sensual and emotional, highlighting both of your skills as contemporary dancers

A good chunk of the choreography was spent with the two of you having very little physical contact, but being so close to each other that it delivered such a feeling a yearning

However, the last chorus totally changed the vibe

You two walked backward, facing away from each other, and right as you were about to bump into each other sunghoon abruptly turned around gripping your shoulder and whirling you to face him- leading to a sequence of quick spins and paired movements, finally breaking the pattern of avoiding physical contact

And the rest of the dance spent with you two practically glued together

The performance continued with sunghoon pulling you in toward him, you running your hands up his chest and neck and landing softly on his face before pulling him down to almost meet your lips

The two of you slowly walked together to the beat of the music until sunghoon’s back was hitting the wall

It came to an end with hoon sliding down into a seated position on the floor, leaning against the wall- you sliding down in sync, landing on his lap- his face still in your hands, his hands on your hips, foreheads leaned against each other’s

The choreography was so intimate that unfortunately hybe’s fears came true

The dating rumors were instantaneous…

✪ ‘This is such an unexpected pairing but it makes so much sense’ ✪ ‘Oh! My bad y’all i’ll just- i can just- uhm- lemme just leave the room and come back later’ ✪ ‘I know y/n said this performance was gonna be a bit different from her other’s but i didn’t think THIS is what she meant😭’ ✪ ‘Soooo, is this a safe space to say I wholeheartedly believe Y/nHoon is real?’ ✪ ‘Girl Y/nHoon BETTER be real after THAT’ ✪ 'the thoughts i'm thinking... i feel like my account would get suspended if i shared them👀'

And if that wasn’t enough to get them going, there was all the behind the scenes material as well

Both your company and hybe had released behind the scenes videos of the project, except they couldn’t have been more different

While the one posted to enhypen’s channel was mostly sunghoon being interviewed and shots of him practicing individually, with the occasional partner shot or interaction between you two

Your behind the scenes video had plenty of shots of you and hoon laughing and playfully bickering together

Clips of you finishing the choreography and falling against him, with him wrapping his arms around you and swaying back and forth circulated twitter immediately 

There were plenty of other moments that had fans fawning over your relationship

Such as when you wrapped up filming and sunghoon slid his hands from your hips to fully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down to lay on top of him on the ground

Let’s just say hybe had to release a statement pretty soon after that

Kim Seon Woo:

Sunoo and you always post together 

vlogs, lives, story posts- you name it

Most fans never really thought anything of it since a majority of the time it was just you two shopping, trying new snacks, or talking about skincare

But there was also so much content you didn’t post

Like the countless couples tik tok trends that are sitting in your drafts (his favorite is the one where you put on lipstick and accidentally smudged it, then the camera turns to him covered in lipstick kiss marks)

But there are also surprisingly a lot of random dance videos you have of the two of you 

Sometimes when you’re hanging out at one of your company’s studios you’ll just turn on a song and come up with fun random choreography 

One of Sunoo’s favorites that you guys have come up with was to “Wildflower” by 5 seconds of summer

It was sensual and flirty, but still fun and cute- and the video conveys that perfectly with how much the two of you are giggling and clinging to each other

It started off really well! Both of you were locked in, hitting the snaps and beats perfectly, your expressions nothing short of perfect and professional 

But the second it got to the chorus your smiles were overtaking your faces as you tried to stay focused on the choreography and not burst out laughing

You still danced the routine perfectly! There just came a point in the dance where neither of you could stop smiling at each other

By the final chorus you were fully teasing your giggly boyfriend by mouthing the words with an overly flirtatious expression while running your hands down his neck and chest, causing him to squeeze your waist and teasingly pull you into him making you burst out laughing, before finishing out the dance with the biggest smiles anyone has ever seen 

You both often rewatch the video and your smiles end up being almost as big as the ones you had in the video

You were sitting with Sunoo one day and asked him if it was okay to post it to your personal account, and he excitedly agreed

However- for some reason you didn’t check to make sure you were on your private account instead of your groups account before you hit post, and without realizing, uploaded your choreography to your groups official instagram with the caption ‘me and my wildflower sunny baby☀️🌺’

It was only about 15 minutes later when sunoo was scrolling through his own instagram when he turned to you panicked

“Baby… you posted it on the wrong account”

“WHAT?????”

You immediately called your manager crying and freaking out, while sunoo called jungwon trying to explain the situation 

Both your management teams came to the agreement that no one would say anything about the video unless it got severely out of hand

They thought it would be best to keep the video up to avoid suspicion, However, you did have to change the caption

Aside from the crazies, most fans were eating it up!

✪ ‘I love that they’re so comfortable with each other, this is so cute’ ✪ ‘Their smiles and giggles🥺’ ✪ ‘I feel like we never get to see sunoo’s dance abilities highlighted, so i’m honestly grateful that y/n shared this’ ✪ ‘Oh they’re so in love don’t even try to deny it’

Yang Jung Won:

You had been hinting to your fans about doing more dance content, but the last thing they expected was for a video of you and jungwon dancing to “two hands” by Tate McCrae to randomly show up on your groups youtube channel one day

The video was professionally recorded in a cool location and the two of you had on cool but comfortable outfits

Basically y’all looked cunty asf and everyone was losing their shit over it but we’ll come back to that

The choreography involved the two of you being in some sort of physical contact for almost the entire thing

And when you weren’t touching, you were face to face staring into each other’s soul

It was lowkey like you were leading the dance at times and jungwon was hypnotized by your movements (which let’s be honest, he totally was)

By the last chorus, you and your boyfriend were in full contact

Jungwon’s hands had pulled you in closely, your hands resting on his chest with his low on your back

There was a moment where you just sensually gazed into to each other’s eyes, caressing each other while you mouthed the words to the song

Jungwon leaned in closing his eyes, fully preparing to kiss you, but you teasingly turned your head back toward the camera right as your lips were about to meet, giving a flirtatious wink and smile

The turn caused jungwon’s lips to brush your neck, but the way it was captured by the camera made it hard to tell if he actually made contact with your skin

The rest of the dance consisted of one or both of you having your hands on the other without a break, never breaking the connection 

There was even a part where you had your hand on your boyfriend’s face and he followed your movement, seemingly hypnotized by your touch

Jungwon’s hands quickly found their place on your hips shortly after

The dance finished with two posing- you in front of him, reaching behind to place your hand on the back of his neck, as he placed his hands on your hips

Won gently rubbed your hip as he waited for the director to call cut, ad when they did he collapsed against you, fully wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck

(That cute moment was captured and posted on your instagram story after the official video dropped)

Speaking of social media…

The thing is, both you and your boyfriend are chaotic and slightly evil, so the second the video dropped y’all were refreshing twitter to see people’s reactions

✪ ‘Oh okay so they’re a thing’ ✪ ‘Yang Jungwon and L/n Y/n… WHAT IS THIS????’ ✪ ‘So like- do y’all need a third or…’ ✪ ‘HIS LIPS WERE LITERALLY ON HER NECK I’M NOT CRAZY’ ✪ ‘Need whatever they’ve got goin on real bad’ ✪ ‘Jungwon heard the lyrics “your two hands on me at all times” and took that shit literally wow’ ✪ ‘Y/n turning to look at the camera right as won is about to kiss her… GIRL MOVE IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA KISS THAT BOY’ ✪ ‘The hand placement, oh i’m so fucked’ ✪ ‘L/n Y/n the woman you are…’ ✪ ‘The way Jungwon’s movements get obviously more desperate at the end of the choreography when Y/n has her hands on his face… WALK HIM LIKE A DOG MAMA😛’

You and Jungwon were giggling and saving posts were a good two hours

Nishimura Riki:

It wasn’t unusual for you and ni-ki to hang out in a practice room and just jam, coming up with random choreography combinations for fun

It also wasn’t a secret that the two of you knew each other and hung out, but most just assumed you were friends since you had also hung out with other members of enhypen before 

However neither of you had ever posted anything together aside from mayne a couple of tik toks

So it came as a shock to his fans (and yours) when Ni-Ki went live, only for everyone to see him cozied up in one of hybe’s practice rooms with you 

The live started with the two of you laying on the floor with the phone propped up against the mirror wall at the front of the room, just chatting and giggling over random stuff (losers in love)

In fact Riki was so chatty that fans were even starting to comment on it

‘The only time Riki has stopped giggling or yapping has been to listen intently to y/n..’

‘I swear these two are so chatty together, what's going on??’

Eventually you guys started getting antsy and decided to turn on some music and jam again

It was just some ciphering back and forth for a while until “pour up” by DEAN came on and you froze and made eye contact

“Should we do it?” Ni-Ki asked in regard to the choreography the two of you had come up with to the song earlier that week

“I mean… why not?” you shrugged with a mischievous smile

“It’s a little… risky- don’t you think?” he giggled while unconsciously moving closer to you, but you just giggled in return before starting the choreography while holding eye contact

He laughed a bit in shock, watching you dance for a few more seconds before joining in

By the time the chorus arrived the two of you were locked in, facing forward again toward the camera

It seemed like pretty tame choreography at first with a slightly sensual 

Until the second verse came

You and Riki started crossing paths and interacting more within the choreography, showing off just how much chemistry you have together as dance partners

There were plenty of little moments with little flirtatious touches here and there but the connection was on full display by the last few seconds of the song, with Riki’s arm draped casually around your waist as the two of you swayed side to side

You pretended to walk off as the song ended, still feeling the vibe, but as soon as the next song started playing you screamed dramatically and fell to floor in a heap of embarrassment, leaving your boyfriend to laugh at you from behind

Ni-Ki walked past you back to the phone to check the comments and he noticed the viewer count has tripled since before you started dancing

✪ ‘They way they just casually match each others vibe like it’s nothing’ ✪ ‘So can we all agree we need more Y/n and Riki dance content??’ ✪ ‘I would 100% be asking “what are we?” after this…' ✪ ‘Y/n falling to the ground and screaming after, she’s so real’ ✪ ‘OMG LOOK AT HOW RED THEY ARE NOW AWWWW BABIES’

Neither of you could look at each other without giggling for the rest of the live

notes: hey y'all... i'm back (kinda)

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈, 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

— pairing; itoshi sae x reader  

— summary; in which you and sae meet again in japan after a messy breakup in spain. set in the blue lock manager au.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s not really something you like to broadcast, how you and Sae were close when you were in Spain with your parents for that brief, wonderful period of time. While he honed his skills with football, you would balance your studies while helping out at Re Al.

❋ Things had been so simple back then. Late-night walks in Madrid, your fingers intertwined with his. Sneaking kisses in quiet corners, away from prying eyes. Sharing popsicles and everything else. Sae was cold to the rest of the world, his softness reserved entirely for you.

❋ You were each other’s first everything — first kiss, first love, first heartbreak.

❋ Some part of you had to have known that this was only temporary, considering how often your parents travel for work. But it still comes as a shock to you when you parents abruptly decide to return to Japan to help fund the Blue Lock project.

❋ And Sae, so full of potential. Sae, whose career is finally taking off. You aren’t about to let him leave it behind; and Sae, too driven, too focused on his dreams, wasn’t about to throw it all away and return to Japan either. Not like this. Not for you.

❋ You hadn’t expected to see him at the airport to see you off. Sae’s expression was closed off, and it was like the two of you were strangers once again, the distance and silence already stretching endlessly between you. As if your relationship had never existed in the first place.

❋ The breakup was messy, yet silent. Both of you knew instinctively that this was the end. And just before Sae left without looking back, his final words to you were, “If you’re going, don’t expect me to wait.”

❋ The last image you have of him is his retreating figure, back rigid, leaving as the words die on your lips.

❋ And that was that.

❋ You’d returned to Japan with your parents to work as a manager at Blue Lock (Ego had agreed to take you in under the promise of free labour, apparently). Ego’s lectures aren’t fun, but you’re actually learning something under him and Anri when you’re not being driven insane by a group of rowdy, immature teenaged boys.

❋ You try really hard not to think about Sae. Even if the occasional headline reminds you of his burgeoning career in Europe. But the memory of him is a quiet ache in your chest that surfaces in random moments — when you see the colour teal, or hear a song he’d used to like.

❋ You’ve been to JFA headquarters only once or twice before, but it’s bustling with activity as always. Your purpose here is purely business; you’ll act as a secretary for Ego and Anri while they finalize plans for the U20 match with the top brass.

❋ You didn’t think that he’d be there.

❋ Right at that very moment.

❋ In that very room.

❋ Fate is cruel, sometimes.

❋ He looks . . . The same, yet somehow different all at once. His hair’s a little longer, his expression sharper, but those piercing green eyes haven’t changed at all, and the realisation makes your chest throb painfully all over again.

❋ You wonder how you appear to him, underneath your professional blazer and veneer of carefully controlled calm. Does he think you still look the same? Or does he think that you’ve changed, become a total stranger to him, much like how he is to you right now?

❋ His gaze is intense, scorching. You can feel it the second you enter the room, but you keep your head down and try to pay attention to the meeting. (The thought of having to present incomplete notes to Ego certainly does a marvellous job at helping you focus.)

❋ A breath of relief soughs out of you the moment the meeting ends. Quickly, you gather your things, following Ego and Anri out the door. You’re eager to avoid the lingering eyes of the association’s board members.

❋ And perhaps most of all: you’re eager to avoid unnecessary small talk with Sae.

❋ But you catch a final glimpse of him out the corner of your eye; Sae, still staring at you. His expression seemingly softer, almost hesitant. It’s almost as if he wants to call your name, to stop you from leaving, but something — Pride? Anger? — holds him back.

❋ The door to the meeting room clicks shut behind you with a cold finality, and this time, you’re the one leaving first.

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

A/N: This isn't my usual content, but I was thinking about this scenario and I had huge baby fever so I couldn't NOT write it. I love Sae too much y'all. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes english ain't my first language.

Warnings: Mentions of death and grieving, Sae tries forcing his daughter to either eat her vegetables or go to school hungry (he doesn't go through with it)(this is a very brief scene but it could still be triggering to some people). STILL MOSTLY FLUFF I SWEAR.

Contents: Sae being a girl dad fr, y'all can't change my mind on this one, also Rin being an uncle. That's pretty much it. A little ooc (Rin mostly)

"Papaaaa" Mao complained, her voice echoing across the house and making Sae drop the dishes he was washing and walk across the house into her room to see what was going on... this time. Although he had a pretty good idea given her recent tantrums.

"Can't sleep?" he inquired, but he knew the answer as soon as she saw her curling up in her little bed and pouting, her doe teal eyes looking up to him as if to give him pity. "No, Mao, you cannot come sleep in my room."

"Why not?!"

"You've already been sleeping there all week... come on, you're a big girl, you can sleep on your own room."

"But I wanna be with you..." he sighed. It had seemed she had inherited his stubbornness, because sometimes it felt like there was just no way of making her change her mind when she was set on something. He leaned against the door a little, thinking about what to say that may change her mind.

"I know I was away for a while the last couple of weeks and I understand you missed me, but I can't have this conversation with you every single night."

"Why do you go away in the first place..."

"You know why, I have to for work." he countered, "And do not ask me why I can't bring you along, we've talked about this countless of times before. I don't go away for fun. If I bring you with me, you'll want to go everywhere with me and then you'll get fussy and mad because I'll be working all the time, or worse, you'll get bored to death in the hotel. Believe me, staying here is best for you when I go on business trips."

"But I just wanna be with you!!" his eye almost twitched in annoyance at the sight; he knew that tone of voice all too well. It was another tantrum coming his way, but still, he tried to remain calm for her sake.

"You're with me now."

"So can I sleep in your room?"

"No." then she threatened to start crying. He let out a low, defeated huff, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. She just wasn't giving up, was she? Pushing himself off the doorframe, he looked back at her before speaking. "Fine. Come on."

"This is the last time." he knew damn well that was a fat lie, but he still had to at least pretend to be firm. She would grow up to be a spoiled child otherwise, or at least that's what he was used to tell himself.

The little girl beamed, quickly jumping out of bed and running towards her father. She hopped with her arms up towards him asking to be carried, to which he complied. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and lifted her up, watching as she clung onto him as if he just came back from war or something. Could he really blame her, though? She had lost her mother and he was away all the time; it would be strange if she wasn't feeling lonely.

"Papa, sing me a song." Sae reconsidered his life decisions for a moment there, not gonna lie, but how could he honestly say no to those pleading eyes?

"Fine..." he sighed, his voice soft and low as he began humming whatever song he could think of on the top of his head. Still keeping a secure hold on her, Sae began rocking his daughter to further lure her to sleep. He held her with one arm so that he could close the door of her room, the soft click assuring him that everything was in order, and then started walking a few steps towards his.

By this point, little Mao was sound asleep on his arms, and he almost chuckled at the thought of his daughter refusing to sleep until she was with him. He carefully opened the door a few meters away and walked quitely to the bed, trying his best to not wake up the sleeping child on his arms, and set her down to rest. Once tucked in and comfortable, he let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the brat was asleep and he could be at peace. She could be so clingly and energetic sometimes... not that he cared that much, even though her restlessness was exhausting, it showed that she felt safe and loved enough to be her enthusiastic self around him without any regrets.

It was weird to him, like an unfamiliar sense of pride that surged at the sight of her young daughter bouncing around and playing endlessly. He would often look at her and think about how different her personality was from his, and how much it reminded him of her mother. Sae tried not to though, as he despised comparing his daughter to his late wife over and over again, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. From the way she smiled to the color of her hair... they were just so alike each other. He still kept all the memories from her close to his heart, which in a way made him feel guilty. Sae knew just how much his daughter yearned for a maternal figure; someone to talk to and educate her about girly stuff that he may not understand. He would watch her staring at the other kids with their moms and act like it really wasn't a big deal to avoid making him feel like he wasn't enough, but Sae knew better. It was obvious to him that his daughter absolutely adored him, and he was sure she thought he was enough, but he also knew that she missed having a mom. She missed her mom. He missed her mom too.

Normally he would avoid talking about it. It had been hard enough trying to explain to this small child that her mom wasn't coming home that night, or ever, let alone process his own grief at the loss of the only woman he once loved. If he cried, he had to do it when his daughter wasn't looking, because the last thing he needed to add to his worries was worrying his daughter to the point of avoiding everything that may set off a bad mood on him. It wasn't her fault, he just felt his heart break everytime he took her home and she pointed at a framed picture of her mom exclaiming 'Mama!' Or 'Hey mama', 'I'm back, mama', 'Miss you, mama'. He would hold back his tears and take a deep breath whenever she tried asking if she could visit her mom in the place she was at (as he initially had told her it was a place where she couldn't come back), having to explain carefully that she couldn't. She would get mad and ask why a bunch of times, but he didn't have the heart to tell her 'She's dead' straight up. He really tried to just give her an excuse like that she was sleeping forever or something, as if she was in the sleeping beauty, but then she just began asking if a true love kiss from him would wake her up. She was a child, after all, and she hadn't quite grassped the concept of death yet.

He let himself watch her sleep for a few moments, sinking in the stillness of the night. Taking care of a young child made this moments rare, and he treasured whatever rest he could get. He reached out to the nightstand and picked up the heater remote, pressing a couple of buttons to turn it on a bit; just enough to keep the room warm, as he knew nights at that time of the year could become fairly cold and he didn't want his daughter getting sick. And as expected, she got very evidently more comfortable as the room became warmer, falling into a deeper state of sleep. She had only carried her favorite bunny plushie from her room to hold onto and apparently that was all she needed to fall asleep. He plopped himself onto the bed as well and fell asleep almost instantly from the exhaustion of the day, not even caring about closing the door or the half-washed dishes he left on the sink or even the fact that he hadn't even changed his clothes. He was DONE for the day.

Although, the next day he most definitely regretted it.

He had to wake up early and finish cleaning all the mess his daughter had left throughout the day, plus now he had to make breakfast, wake her up and get her to school. Sae was a rather organized person and he would normally not find himself in this type of situation, but it seemed like ever since he became a father he was running short of time for everything no matter how much he tried to plan in advance.

"Morning." Sae greeted his still somewhat sleepy child as she yawned and climbed the chair infront of her to eat. "Slept well?"

"Mhm..." Mao mumbled, rubbing her eyes with one arm while she still clung to her favorite plushie with the other. He placed a plate on the table for her and then one for him, along with his usual morning coffee and the only damned brand of juice that she liked for some reason and that he had to drive for an hour to buy.

"Come on, eat. You have preschool today."

"Can't I skip? It's snowing so muuuuch." the kid dropped her head onto the table and sighed, clearly displeased about going to school.

"Apparently it's not snowing enough to cancel your classes. Now, please, eat."

He watched intently as his daughter took a close look at the food, pouting and feeling now rather down since she wasn't allowed to skip school. She took a couple of bites of her breakfast and she had a few sips of her juice, then she pushed her plate a little to indicate she was done.

"Thanks for the food." she was about to get off the table when she was interrupted by her father's stern voice.

"Not so fast. There is no way you're full with just that."

"Yeah I am..." such an obvious lie.

"Why aren't you eating? And I want the truth."

She pouted, AGAIN, before reluctantly giving an answer.

"It has green peppers on it..." and there you have it; this was the real challenge of Sae's day.

"I told you, they're good for you."

"But they're gross! Can I eat something else please?" this is Sae's life now. Even winning a soccer match was easier than getting his daughter to eat her vegetables.

"Mao, I spent a lot of time making breakfast for you, can you please finish your food? You still need to get ready to go to school. I don't have any time to make you more breakfeast; I have to go work."

"But... I really don't like them... please?" that was the last straw for him. He didn't mean to sound cruel, but he was tired and didn't know what else to say.

"Mao Itoshi, you're staying on this table until the last bite of food on your plate is GONE. If you don't, you'll go to school hungry and I'm not making you anything else after I pick you up. You are eating this one way or another." he almost instantly regretted the harsh tone of voice he had used, as he saw his kid's eyes begin watering. He passed his hands through his face in exasperation, took a deep breath, and walked around the table to pick her up. He exhaled, trying his best to remain calm before speaking to her again, as he could feel Mao's tears on his clothes and the little shudders she made at the effort to hold back tears. Sae patted and passed his fingers through his daughter's hair in a poor attempt to soothe her, but the damage was already done. She was holding thay bunny plush in her arms like a lifeline. "Sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be so hard on you. I woke up early to make your breakfast and you just took a few bites of it... I got frustrated, but that wasn't a reason to force you to eat something you don't like. I'm just saying, green peppers aren't the end of the world; they can be tasty."

"I guess I can eat them..." he sighed.

"No, you'll just be eating them out of guilt. You shouldn't do things you don't want to just because you're afraid of someone's bad mood." he thought for a moment. Mao eating the green peppers wasn't the ideal result now, she was hurt and vulnerable and that would only teach her that she should fear and comply which wouldn't end well on the long run... still, he did spend his time making her breakfast and didn't want it to go to waste. "Tell you what. I'll eat the green peppers for today, if you promise you'll at least try them next time, and I'll find another recipe to try to make them taste better. Sound good?" she nodded, still hiding her face from him by pressing it against his clothes. "Good. Now, I really don't have more time to make you more breakfast, so let's pick out the stuff you don't like just this once, and only this one time. I seriously need you to try to learn to eat your vegetables."

"...'kay."

"Let's hurry then; you still need to get ready for school."

Sae for sure was missing having some help on the raising of his daughter. He would never admit it though, he would try and pretend parenting was the easiest thing in the world when in reality he was fighting for his life everyday trying to shape this little human into a good person, and refraining from helping her while she failed at tying her shoe countless of times before admiting she didn't know how to do it (this is why he only buys her velcro).

He left the tiny sparkling pink shoes on the ground as he heard the doorbell, then looked at the clock hanging from the wall nearby. 8:14am, who in the world was it this early? Sae indicated his daughter to stay still on the couch before walking towards the door, and right after seeing the face on the other side he furrowed his eyebrows in surprise.

"Rin? What are you doing here?" his little brother then proceeded to push him aside and step inside as if it were his own house.

"Move, I didn't come here for you." his eyes traveled the room and eventually fell on the little girl sitting on the couch, and in a blink of an eye he had lifted the little girl up and hugged her tightly. Despite her surprise, she could obviously recognize her only favorite uncle.

To everyone's surprise, Rin absolutely adored his niece. Sure he had problems with his older brother but he didn't have to take it out on an innocent child that had done nothing to him. Besides, she was so adorable and bubbly and so NOT like Sae. Rin sometimes would stare at her in amazement, wondering how it was possible that this was truly Sae's spawn; yet the teal eyes and lower lashes were unmistakable. She was an Itoshi alright.

"Umclw Rwin!" her voice came out muffled, as she was currently being burried on his chest, but the sentiment was there.

"What are you doing here?" Sae was straight to the point, not caring about his cold tone of voice this time. And he says he doesn't have favorites.

"I just came back from my morning run." the younger Itoshi explained, still not looking at him in the eye. "Thought I'd stop by to say hello."

"To her."

"Yes, I didn't want to talk to your pathetic-"

"Language."

"Shut up."

"Don't hug her when you're still sweaty and gross, she just took a bath." he continued scolding Rin, earning a groan of frustration from him.

"Your dad is so annoying." his niece giggled at the obvious beef between his dad and uncle. She didn't really understand it but it was funny from her point of view. "Such lukewarm rules he has."

"Lukewarm!" she repeated.

"Rin, stop teaching her those words. Mao, say bye to your uncle; we have to get you to school."

"Awwwwww, can he come with?"

"Fine, whatever will get you to actually go to school. Rin, let's go."

"Don't boss me around." he complained, walking with his niece on his arms towards the door and setting her down. "Let's put on our shoes, shall we?" he took the shoes Sae had set down earlier and helped the kid put them on with ease. Of course, he had dealt with this countless of times before. Sae had the bad habit of using him as a free nanny for whenever he had to travel, which was often.

"Uncle Rin, how do you go running with all this snow? It's so cold!"

"When you run, you sweat and then it doesn't feel so cold." he finished tying the kid's shoelaces and took her by the hand, then Sae picked up a scarf wrapped it carefully around her neck.

"Don't take it off." he warned, watching as she began squirming to get away from the scratchy scarf. "It's cold out, I don't want you getting sick."

"Okay, papa." he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before taking her free hand and not so subtly making Rin let go of her as he finally opened the front door. They were quickly hit by the cold winter air, and Mao shuddered a little at the sudden change in temperature.

Stil, Sae made sure his hand was holding hers tight and that she kept herself on his field of vision. There would be someday in the future where she wouldn't need him to hold her hand; he had to treasure these moments and not let her go while he still could.

[undercoverdonderwolk]

can we also talk about how max has said his favorite number is 3 and also that he was gonna pick it as his race number (said that was the number he always chose for karting if he got a choice) but went with 33 instead bc daniel already had 3…….soulmatism

you’re right— you couldn’t even WRITE this bc it’d be like this is so cheesy :/

imagine the fic like “well they meet when they’re young and they immediately hit it off! one of them even sends the other a cute little message when he gets his super license, even though they’re not even really friends yet. and then they become teammates and they’re sooo close like to the point where other drivers are like i’ve never seen teammates so close before… but they’re fiiiercely competitive they even get in a few fights but don’t worry they always apologize to each other. but then one of the guys leaves!!! even though the other guy tries to stop him and get him to stay!!!! and they’re both kinda depressed about it to the point where one of them obsessively listens to the song barely friends by drama which that same guy references as the perfect breakup song like five years later and the other guy spends all his time miserable getting into the top 10 best fifa players in the world. but they remain friends like they get even closer even though there’s not really any point in being friends. they fly everywhere together and hang out on a boat together and they post each other on instagram and when life gets horrrrible for one of the guys at some point he goes to say that he’s sooo happy that if it can’t be him at least it can still be the other guy. but then the guy’s old team takes him back!!!! and they’re SO happy like they are giddyyyy. it was actually the other guy who first announced it that’s how excited he was. at some point one of the guys even writes down the other guy’s old number (the one he had when they were teammates) in the dust on a car which just so happens to be double his own number…. and they almost become teammates again and they’re sooo happy that they put the two of them on insta with a fred again song (i been gone too long baby don’t leave) but it doesn’t happen… but they’re attached at the hip down to the verrrry last moment when the two of them spend an entire evening singing each other’s praises and even though one of the guys is retired know they still hang out!!!!!!”

i’d be like ok. i’ll suspend my disbelief 716 million times for ur corny ass story eye GUESS!!!

[petriwriting]

You Deserve Better - JJ Maybank X Reader

Requested.

A/N: Not my best work but It was a good writing exercise.

Your boyfriend, Todd, was anything but loving and caring. He had money, so you would get gifts, flowers sometimes, and expensive jewelry. but lately it seemed like you were just an accessory, something to make him look better. someone to bring to family events and parties, although he would pay you no mind once you had been introduced to people. He was also a heavy drinker, and there were rumors that he did drugs when he and his friends went boating together. It started as a decent relationship, he was cute and tall and funny. But lately he had been wrapped up in what you tenderly referred to as "Kook Bullshit." 

You were fortunate, you lived comfortably. you certainly didn't come from millionaires. But because of this you were referred to as a Kook, even if you didn't consider yourself to be like the others. You began going to parties and meeting all kinds of new people, particularly a group of Pogues. almost instantly you took a liking to JJ Maybank. His golden blonde hair and sea blue eyes were enchanting, and despite your relationship it was an irresistible temptation. You kept it quiet, and secretive. 

You were currently waiting on the edge of the beach with your phone. You opened your phone and were met with its bright screen contrasting the darkness of the night. The wind chill tousled your hair. you searched for his contact. Blondie. and sent him a quick text.

Busy rn?

             Nah

pick me up?

              otw

You smiled. It was a guilty pleasure, you enjoyed spending time with JJ, he was sweet and funny and he wasn't abusive, or rude. He paid attention to you and listened to you talk. You sent him your location and waited in the darkness for another few minutes, listening to the chatter and music from the beach party that was not far from where you stood. After a while the twinie came rolling up, JJ was driving and he rolled down the window. "uh, Uber for Y/N?" he joked. you laughed and got into the passenger seat. He must not have been far when you sent your location to him. 

"So no grand plans tonight huh?" he asked as he drove further from the island towards a more secluded area. "Not interested in the party." you explained. It was lame, some kids had stolen a bunch of beer and were all drunk playing beer pong in the sand. "Where's the boyfriend on this lovely evening?" he asked you. you sighed and looked over at him. It was stupid, but the moonlight made his eyes twinkle... "He's staying in charleston with his friends." JJ nodded. He always asked about Todd. It was strange, but deep down he just cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were in a safe situation. Being a victim of physical violence himself, he hated to see it happen to others. "So he's out of town?" he asked quietly. "Yes." you replied. 

JJ pulled up to an abandoned field, mostly dirt and sand. The weather was nice and it was a pretty delicate evening with the moon shining down and the area being quiet, all you could hear were the southern cicada's singing their songs and the subtle sound of waves lapping not far beyond the clearing. You hopped out of the van, and JJ followed suit and helped you on top of the van, where he had just laid out an old beach blanket. He laid on his back and you did the same. looking up you saw how clear and bright the stars were. 

"Thanks for picking me up." you begin. "I've had a lot of stuff going on and I just needed to get away." you admit. JJ looks over at you understandingly. His hand brushes yours, barely touching but not holding hands. "It's alright. I get it," he retorts, running his fingers through his hair with his other hand. "I like to get away sometimes too." he says.

For some reason, the air is thick with tension. You'd been seeing each other and hooking up in the twinkie for 4 months now. It became a routine. After several moments spent in silence JJ spoke finally. "I've been thinkin." he says. His voice is straight to the point. "You should leave Todd." he states flatly. Slightly offended, you turn to look at him. "JJ you know why I can't." you say. "Who cares what he says?" he pleads. "He-" you swallow hard, a gulp. "He might hurt me." you admit, your eyes are glazed over, embarrassed almost. "Rafe told me he saw him doing coke with his buddies. They trashed some expensive yachts, and they were high off their asses playing with a gun they found." 

JJ is silent for a minute. "You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you right?" he says finally. "I know but this whole thing just feels wrong. What if he finds out?" you continue. "He might try and go after you. I don't want that." you state clearly. "Well he can try, but he won't get to touch me." JJ says confidently. you went back and forth at the idea, you wanted out, but not where you could be hurt. you also felt safe with JJ, you knew that the islanders from the cut stuck together no matter what. You were like an honorary pogue. "fine."

You finally say, pulling out your phone and drafting a message to Todd, he always reads your messages almost instantly, but he barely ever replied. "How does this sound?" you said after typing away for a few minutes. 

We're over. I don't want my stuff back. Don't talk to me anymore.

JJ looked over the message, and before you could freak and and be doubtful he hit send. there was a rush of relief followed by panic. "Oh my god." you uttered. "Oh my god!" you said louder. "JJ i'm officially single now." you said. "Yeah, so that means we can get inside the van right now without any guilt?" he smirked, leaning over to you, you had a pit in your stomach but you kissed him anyway. 

[dollyonm0lly]

Hi, I love your things to much💕💕

So I was thinking maybe Lucius has also an niece, the daughter of commodus

No one knows of your existence, you are a concubine for the emperors. They have more but your their favorite. Then one day Lucius wanted to help you escape, you did not and told the emperors of it. Normally they are never soft doms, but this time they are and you are praised for what a good girl you are to them

Soo, soft stuff for you guys!! Or I tried at least, lolol, im still very sick, so this did wonders to me. <3 The reader in this one is kinda pathetic tho, not sorry.

“Love you, my Emperor… Love you so much…” – Both Emperors hear you say in your meek voice, like a song to their ears, you can feel Geta's warm hand on your cheek, caressing the soft skin of your face, which subconsciously seeks more of his affection, rubbing itself against his palm like an abandoned kitten would, your tongue obediently sticking out of your mouth, which he wastes no time in placing his thumb on top of, letting you explore it with your lips passionately. You close your eyes, feeling the pleasurable sensation of fingers running through your hair, combing your strands, untangling them, massaging your scalp. You try to sharpen your senses, focusing on their sweet aroma, Caracalla's hand massaging your head, urging you to lean even more towards Geta's hand, making you lose yourself more in their caresses, it's delicate. It's special, you feel special in this moment. You were good today, very good indeed.

“Nooo…” – You meow in disappointment when you feel Geta's hand start to move away from your face, instantly following it with your head so as not to lose its warmth, surprisingly Geta allows you to do so, on normal days, he would have brushed you away and slapped you across the face for your incessant neediness. You smile at today's change in attitude, just as you feel like purring when Caracalla starts spreading kisses in your uncovered cheek. You feel so loved by both of them, you wish that every day would be like this from now on, even if as an unattainable dream, you know why they are acting like this, you're not getting all of this good treatment on a silver platter, you earned it, deserved it, even though you had to sacrifice some things for others, you are content with your choice.

This feels good, you did good, you think to yourself, you don't feel guilty. You swallow hard, an audible gulp, you try to push that look of hurt and betrayal to the back of your mind. His look of hurt and betrayal. He seems like a ghost in your life now, you can feel the weight of guilt on your back, making you have to shake your head from side to side to shake off the negative feelings. It was worth it, it was worth it, it was worth it, it was worth it… You repeat in your head, until everything becomes clear again, until you can again feel the comforting caresses on your body, welcoming you. Finally, you are welcomed.

“We plan to make love to you today, my dear” – Geta says, taking your mind off other matters and focusing on both Emperors again, you open your eyes to admire him, he has what you would say is the closest to a sweet smile on his features than you will ever see from him. You can feel your heart skip a beat, turning to jelly in Caracalla's arms, who now holds you a little more firmly against his body, almost placing you on his lap.

“Make love?” – You question curiously, your voice dreamy with false expectations, never in the many years you have served them have you ever heard of this lovemaking thing.

“Don't you love us?” – You hear Caracalla questioning in your ear, pretending to be hurt by your question, his head rubbing against your neck, his hair tickling your face, like a puppy.

“I do…!” – You respond instantly, surprised that they would even ask you that, oblivious to the manipulative tone behind it. You did everything you did out of love for them, and out of love for the attention and affection they can provide you, in times like these, they are the only ones who could provide the minimum of security for you and your well-being, they make sure you know that, the certainty that nothing would happen to you as long as you are in their favor.

Silence falls, you can feel the words you want to say on the tip of your tongue, but uncertainty makes you hold them back for minutes longer.

“Do you love me…?” – You ask both Geta and Caracalla, you can't contain the anticipation in your voice, even if it's weak and hesitant. You are met with laughter from the twins, they laugh at your question, they think you're such a box of surprises, you really were born to be an entertainer just for them!

“You are so cute” – Caracalla says, it sounds mocking, just like their laugh, and it wasn't the answer you were hoping to receive, but even so, it makes your heart warm inside your chest. They think you're cute. They think something of you, you are something. Your happy little smile earns you a pat on the head from Geta.

“Cute indeed…” – Geta responds in agreement, both twins exchange glances, Geta licks his lips before smiling at you – "Why don't you get more comfortable for us, dear?” – He gestures to the bed, encouraging you sneak further back.

Caracalla helps you with that, taking the initiative to crawl to the headboard of the bed himself, resting his back against it, his pale legs spread wide to create the perfect space for you. He calls you over, patting his thigh twice, and you are drawn to him like a moth to light. You shyly walk over to him, turning to lay your back against his chest, with the two of you sitting in this position, he wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close, the easy access allowing him to bury his nose in your neck, laying his forehead on your shoulder. – "Help me get these off” – He says in a controlled tone, trying to be loving, you appreciate that, normally he would have impatiently instructed you, as if you were the fool for not knowing what he wanted before he even asked, or he would have pushed you and taken them off himself. You lift your hips off the bed a little, making it easier for him to remove your panties, doing so delicately with the tips of his fingers on the elastic, letting you feel the fabric slide over your skin until it is completely removed, earning you a little kiss of thanks on your exposed shoulder.

You miss the way the twins look at each other or how Caracalla hands your panties to Geta, who puts them in a place on the bed that he can remember later on. But one thing you don't miss is how Geta now also approaches your body, trapping you, his hands resting on the headboard that Caracalla leans on, trapping both your head and his between his arms. On Caracalla's lap, you open your legs, inviting Geta to settle between them, something that he gladly accepts.

“Let's get you all prepped and ready, dear” – Geta says as he admires your face, his hands going down to the bottom of your robe, lifting it to give him a better view of your body and intimacy, meanwhile, Caracalla does the same, letting your robe slide down over your shoulders, leaving kisses on the new free skin, your bust now exposed to the cold air of the room, your robe becoming a mess that only covers your torso and nothing more. You watch the way Geta takes his two fingers, the index and the middle one, between his lips, sucking them with intent, his eyes never straying from yours, Caracalla's own fingers already at work, moving down your body until they reach your lower lips, opening you for his brother, the cold air hitting your pussy.

Geta and Caracalla prepare you carefully, both watching attentively as your entrance slowly gets used to the intrusion of Geta's fingers, Caracalla stimulating your clitoris with his, every now and then you watch as he spits on his own hand before stimulating you again, they love the way you are always so tight, you crush their cock in the most perfect way possible. – "Must take good care of this cunt, it's my favorite one" – Caracalla growls, licking a drop of sweat that previously ran down your face, you giggle happily in the midst of pleasure, yours is the favorite, no other.

“She liked what she heard, she almost cut off the blood circulation in my fingers” – Geta jokes, referencing to the way you clenched and squeezed his fingers when you heard the compliments, you love it when they compliment you, you wish they would do it more often. – "How would you like to be taken today, dear?” – He questions, letting you make some of the choices, tonight will be about you and what you want, that's what they agreed between themselves.

“Want to be hugged…” – Embarrassed, you confess, you didn't expect such a needy response from yourself, however, this is a unique chance, unfortunately, you recognize that, you can't let the shyness of being so emotionally dependent on them take over. You need their embrace like you need air, you hate to be truthful to yourself.

“Awfully romantic, huh” – Caracalla chuckles, Geta arches his eyebrows in agreement, neither daring to question or stand against your decision. Geta helps you sit more precisely on his brother's lap, Caracalla's cock now rubbing at your entrance, you hold him by the base of his penis, slowly introducing him inside you, earning a moan from both of you when he reaches the end, you can feel it almost hitting your cervix, reaching all the perfect places in your pussy. You rest your head on Geta's chest, getting used to the feeling of his brother inside of you, as does Caracalla, who tries to control himself by resting his head on your back, it is a difficult task for both of them, being so patient with your body, normally they wouldn't prepare you or at least wait for you to get used to the feeling of intrusion.

A few minutes pass, your breathing gradually regulates, your pussy starts to want more instead of trying to repudiate what's in it, you look at Geta, and that's all he needs for confirmation, getting closer to you, you do the same to him that you did to his twin, holding him at his base, your delicate fingers feeling his pubic hair rise in goosebumps with the touch, and you bring him to your entrance, he lets you do everything in your own time, watching as you slowly insert him too in your pussy. It's a tight fit, you feel like you're being torn in half, and as tears stream down your face, a groan is heard from Geta and Caracalla, oh, how they love the feeling of being milked alive by you and your fucking perfect cunt, you can feel Caracalla's nails digging into your arm unconsciously, something he tries to alleviate by distributing kisses on your back. They hurt you so lovingly that you can almost pretend it never hurt.

As agreed, they embrace you, Geta wraps his arms around your waist, while Caracalla's make your hips their home, both pressing you against their own bodies, making you become inseparable from each other. You let one of your arms fall over Geta's shoulder, resting there, while the other wraps itself around Caracalla's head, playing with the strands of hair on the back of his neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss, his tongue tasting your mouth as if there was nothing more delicious, his moans being straight sinful on your lips. You rub your lower body against Geta's, seeking to stimulate your clit against his pubic mound, his hair there becoming sticky with your fluids, he mercifully helps you, letting a globule of saliva come out of his lips into the middle of your bodies, lubricating your movements more, earning him an animalistic moan from you and the separation of your kiss with Caracalla, starting one with Geta as naked and raw as the past, the carnal desire speaking for itself. Your minimal movements still do a lot to stimulate the cocks inside you, earning a unanimous moan with every rub you make or every adjustment, soon, you find yourself seeking more of that exciting feeling with the taste of heaven, moving your waist so that you start to ride them gradually.

It's almost too much, the way they let you make your own rhythm, your own dance, just helping you stand on shaky knees ready to give up, but you can't, you can't stop, you need that release that's so far away but so close that you can take it in your hands. You can barely see them anymore, your eyes close, you let yourself drown in the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sticky feeling of sweat, the profanities and compliments, the kisses, caresses and wounds, if you try hard, you can almost focus on the various I love yous that come out of Caracalla's mouth, who barely realizes who he really is when the pleasure is too much, and they would accuse you of being the romantic one, you laugh in your head.

You hear Geta's moan of pleasure mixed with pain as the hand on his shoulder begin to scratch and tear at it, drops of blood running down his bare, pale back. But he barely protests, being a good girl really does have its perks, huh. If being a good girl is always going to result in you having the affection of your Emperors and a free pass to do things without being punished, maybe you should rat people out more often, you let your mind wander as you reach your climax, writhing between their bodies, both of them letting their cocks impale you inside to your heart's content, you would have them forever in you if you could, their cocks are just made for you, a gift from God just for you.

“I love your smell.”

“I love your eyes.”

“I love your body.”

“I love your voice.”

"I love your breasts.”

“I love your curves.”

“I love this fucking pussy.”

You hear them say, one after the other cumming inside you, painting your walls white, and your body red with each touch. You feel disgusting. You feel loved.

“Do you love me?” – You ask again, between gasps, just like them, you feel your vision start to darken, you feel so safe that you could fall asleep right now, a groan of discontent as they disconnect from inside you. Everything is almost like a pitch black, you feel them cleaning you, you being gently laid on the bed, something clothing fabric like cleaning your pussy and everything that runs out of it.

They open your lips, shoving the fabric into your mouth. Oh, it must be your panties, you assume even with your clouded mind. It tastes like your fluids mixed with their divine cum. You suck on it like a pacifier, bodies intertwining with yours on the bed.

“Yes.”

“Very much so.”

[internet-succubus]

sukuna’s final girl

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

content/tags, mdni!: masked stranger!sukuna x reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk but sober enough to consent) predator/prey chase, reader is a little bratty, choking, dacryphilia, implied marathon sex, daddy kink, use of baby/little girl/dollface/slut for reader, unprotected (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy!), squirting, sukuna is a stem major ⁉️, strangers to lovers to …?

a/n: sorry for taking 50 years to write something, it’s the end of the semester and i’m fighting for my life. i’m also way late for kinktober but… happy thanksgiving? happy reading folks! also idk how my headers/layout will look on different devices. im just here to write porn

word count: 3.9k

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹ ˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

you wandered aimlessly around the living room of some shitty house party, trying and failing to find the friends you arrived with. the flashing lights were too bright and the cheap halloween decorations had been pulled off the walls by some rowdy partygoers. all you could think about was how whorishly short your skirt was and how badly you needed to wash off your makeup; your pregame shots had worn off, and you were getting more annoyed every minute.

after half an hour of searching, you decided to cut your losses and try to salvage the rest of your night. you made your way to the makeshift bar in the kitchen, serving yourself a lukewarm cup of the jungle juice that would no doubt taste like gasoline and a 1.4 gpa. it stung as it slid down your throat, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it bearable. a few gulps later, you were sufficiently wasted and decided to make your way to the dancefloor.

a few songs played as you let the crowd and vodka move your body, not caring how stupid you may have looked in your runny makeup or tiny costume. your eyes slipped closed and your hips swayed until you bumped into the broad chest of a mystery man. in shock, your eyes shot open as you stumbled over your feet, nearly falling until the stranger caught you by the waist. as you looked up to thank him and apologize for being such a clumsy mess, your eyes met a mask. it was made of red, metallic plastic molded into the shape of the devil’s face - complete with a nasty smile and curling crimson horns.

the stranger held you for a moment before helping you back onto your feet, but your eyes remain fixed on the parts of him that weren’t covered by a costume. he was wearing a plain outfit- black jeans and a skin-tight black tank top. there were thick banded tattoos curling around the muscles of his shoulders and arms, emphasizing his muscular form. as you found your footing once more, your eyes shifted back to his “face”. regardless of what could be hiding behind his cheap-ass mask, you knew you’d be willing to risk it all for this man. something about him felt… right. he remained still as you sucked in a breath and thanked the lord for liquid courage.

“wanna play a game?” you ask, twirling your hair around your finger. despite your boldness, you knew that it was a wild proposal. he hadn’t spoken a word to you yet and you were already making a move. was it dangerous? yes, very much so. but was it exhilarating? also yes. your common sense was overpowered by desire; a long-time fantasy of yours was to be chased through the woods and hunted down by a masked stranger, and the man before you fit the bill perfectly. just as you were about to turn on your heels and abandon the whole thing, he laughed. his shoulders shook, and the way they flexed deliciously under his tattoos made you stay put.

his large arms fold over his chest as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. he looms over you and his loud cologne floods your nostrils, blocking out the sharp scent of cheap vodka that had been assaulting your senses since you walked in the door. your heart began to race as the gravity of the situation set in.

his head cocks to the side. “what sort of game?” he asked playfully. you could hear the smile in his voice. for a moment you reconsidered your plan to engage in some halloween fun with a stranger, but college is the time to make mistakes, right? you smirked and shrugged as he leaned in closer, taking a step towards you. as you tried to back away slightly, you realized that escaping was futile - you found yourself backed into a literal corner as the cold sensation of cinderblocks ran down your spine.

minutes later, you found yourself running through the woods surrounding the house where you met this stranger. you had proposed a hunt - he would give you a 5 minute head start, and if he caught you then… well, you hadn’t really planned that far ahead. you were tipsy, lost, and very scantily dressed on halloween night. the fear was paralyzing, but the idea of being caught spurred you on.

after a bit of running, you ducked behind a particularly dense patch of bushes. the sounds of leaves settling, wind rushing, and small animals moving about the forest kept you on edge. you heaved one shaky breath after another, wondering if he had given up on finding you - had you run too far? had you unknowingly agreed to be dinner for a very hungry bear? just as you accepted your fate, a large hand came down and gripped your hair, yanking you up with force. you yelped as your body was lifted off the ground effortlessly by this nameless stranger.

“you can’t outsmart me, little girl,” a voice growled next to your ear. his fingers were still tangled in your hair as he pulled you away from your hiding spot, making you feel more like a body bag than a living human. he then bent you over a fallen tree and the rough sensation of bark digging into your hips and thighs was nothing compared to the bruising grip he now had around your throat.

a pitifully garbled sound left your throat as he pulled you up so that your back was pressed against his warm body. you noted the way his bulge pressed into your lower back. instinctually, you struggled against him, but you knew that he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon. your body thrashed as he wrapped his free arm around your waist, lifting you slightly so your toes were barely touching the ground. a laugh echoed through his chest and the vibration sent waves of heat to the space between your legs.

“w-what’re you gonna do to me?” you wheezed, barely louder than the whispers of the wind. the fear in your head competed with the arousal in your cunt as the hand around your throat slid up to grab you by the jaw. his large hand squished your cheeks together to form a forceful pout, and the feeling of his strong limbs enveloping your body made you wetter than you wanted to admit.

the man leaned in and the smooth plastic of his mask pressed against your face was a reminder that you were truly at his mercy. “anything i want,” he says. “i caught you, so i win, right?”

with mind numbing speed, he let your body fall and you ended up bent over the fallen tree once again. you spread your legs slowly, arching your back to give him a better look at what you could tell he was desperate for. you gnawed on your lip as he undid his belt and pulled down his pants and boxers to let his cock spring free. he took a menacing step towards you and wrapped a hand around the base, using his precum to pump himself slowly.

his movements now seemed agonizingly slow as you watched him jerk himself off and flip your skirt up with his free hand. a spank landed against the fat of your ass causing you to yelp in shock, and another laugh came from behind you.

“a-are you going to sit there and jerk off, or do you plan to fuck me?” you snapped. if he was going to be rough, you might as well give him a good reason to. wordlessly, he lifted his mask, only exposing his mouth enough to spit a fat glob of saliva onto your puckering hole. he used his thumb to spread it further down, swiping it back and forth to mix with the slick of your already drenched core. the sensation made your legs tremble as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you’re going to wish you didn’t say that,” he said darkly.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

it felt like hours had passed since you had been found, and the party was probably long over, but you were nowhere close to going home. your pussy was swollen and dripping from the number of times he had pounded into you and dumped his cum into your cunt.

he paused for a moment to spin you around, positioning your body so that you were leaning back on the only support you could find. he wrapped his hands under your thighs, leaning you back further so he could slap his cock onto your overstimulated clit. tears fell from your eyes and smeared your makeup as he pushed back in slowly, sighing at the way your hot cunt pulled him back in. even after several rounds, the two of you couldn’t get enough.

his hands maintained a strong grip as he worked his way back up to a punishing speed, pounding into you with reckless abandon. you let your head fall back and jaw drop open like a slut. the expressionless mask he wore stared down at your shaking body as he used you like a toy. filthy squelches filled the quiet forest as you let yourself be disrespected by arguably one of the sexiest people you had never met, despite the fact that you had never seen his face.

your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him in closer, hungry for more. his hands slid up your body and rested in the dip of your waist. his fingertips dug into your soft skin, securing you in place as he hammered into you; you could only imagine what the bruises would look like the next morning. wanton moans left your lips as you struggled to think straight. “a-ah fuck, you feel sooo fuckin’ good, baby” you slurred. “so deep inside m-me!~”

“yeah? you like the way i fuck you like a slut?” he growled into your ear as the tip of his cock tapped your g-spot deliciously. his voice was muffled by the plastic of his mask, but you could hear the lust in the way he spoke. “what else do you want from me, hm? use your words, dollface.”

your throat was sore from the moans he had pulled out of you and the breaths that he had stifled with his hand wrapped around your throat throughout the evening, but you managed to suck in enough air to utter one thing. “w-want you to spit in my mouth, daddy,” you whined. in an attempt to persuade him, you tilted your head up and batted your eyelashes, now clumped together from your tears and runny mascara. your eyes searched for his through the reflective red plastic, but you found nothing.

”aww, poor baby needs a drink,” he said, moving one hand to grip your jaw. his fingers pressed your lips into a tight pout. they were swollen and covered in spit, just enough to catch the moonlight and illuminate your fucked-out expression. you nodded to the best of your ability, your jaw still locked in place as he maintained his firm grip. “don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want.”

your weak hands, previously balled into fists at your sides, reached up towards his face in an attempt to remove his mask. its artificial smile had been mocking you all night, and you were ready to see the man that had been pounding you for the last several hours. despite your best efforts, you failed to reach higher than his neck. he snickered and took one of your wrists to guide your fingers to the chin of his mask, allowing you to remove it yourself.

as the red plastic was lifted up and off of his face, his eyes met yours and it took you a few moments to register exactly who was looking back at you. he seemed to recognize the look of shock and confusion on your face, because he stilled his hips and furrowed his brows. “…am i ugly or something?” he asked.

“n-no it’s just… we know each other,” you stuttered, trying to bring your knees together in embarrassment. he pulled out slowly and allowed you to stand up just enough to pull your skirt down to cover yourself. “sukuna, we have class together like… several times a week. molecular biology, remember?” you ask. his eyes search your face for a hint of familiarity, and it takes a few seconds for him to recognize you.

”oh.. shit. i didn’t recognize you- y-your hair is different, you never wear makeup like that, i swear i didn’t-“ he says hurriedly. you raised your hand to cut him off as you think about what to say next. sukuna wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, so you took it upon yourself to do damage control. the silence in the air hung heavy as you thought about how to handle this. what would your friends say? can you even go back to that class? back to school? should you just drop out, move across the country, and change your name?

“shut the fuck up, okay? let me think,” you snapped. your brain was foggy from the number of times he made you cum, and it was hard to ignore the feeling of his previous loads leaking down your legs. the logical side of your brain told you to end things now, make him swear on his life that he would never tell a soul about tonight, and ignore him forever. the reckless side of your brain was still focused on the way he held you down and bounced your ass back onto his hips, making your eyes roll into your head and drool leak from the corners of your mouth. you rubbed the bridge of your nose as you weighed the options in your head.

“we’ve already come this far, right? i wanna cum one more time… don’t you?” he asked quietly, despite your previous command. “it’s not like i’ll tell anyone… unless you want to. i’ve always thought you were kinda… you know…” he trailed. one of his hands reached out and rested itself on your hip, bringing you back to reality. you hate to admit it, but he had a point.

a deep sigh heaved from your chest. “i guess so, yeah. but just one more, okay? you can’t tell anyone, and-“ before you could continue, he cut you off with a firm kiss to your lips. you protested for a moment, but the way his hot tongue slid into your mouth halted your racing thoughts. sukuna’s large hands roamed your body, his touch softer now, slowly laying you back down onto the fallen tree you had been relying on for support.

his lips moved from your mouth to your temples, then down to your neck. warm kisses trailed down your body as you screwed your eyes shut, trying and failing to forget who was making you shudder in pleasure. his hands rested on your hips as he knelt between your legs lifting your thighs and putting them over his shoulders. his head slipped under your skirt and his warm breath fanned against your cunt, still slick from how wet he left you.

one of your hands tangled itself in his hair, guiding his mouth to your clit. you felt him laugh softly as he slipped two fingers between your folds, running them over your slit. sukuna pressed soft kisses to your clit as you bit your lips to suppress your whines. it was embarrassing how good he was at this.

”hey, don’t quiet yourself now. need ta’ know if i’m doing good for you,” he sighed into your cunt. you sucked in a shaky breath and willed yourself to relax, which came easily as his lips worked your clit faster. as you got wetter, louder and longer whimpers escaped from between your lips. his flattened tongue swiped back and forth, and before you knew it, he was pushing it inside you.

it dipped in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit quickly. he ate you out with a sense of urgency, and the longer he went, the closer you got to cumming down his throat. your thighs trembled as you jerked his head back and forth, helping him tongue-fuck you harder and deeper. it felt so wrong to be using him like this, knowing that you’d have to face him for the rest of the semester, but none of that mattered as he let you use his mouth to make yourself cum one more time.

sukuna quickly swapped his tongue and fingers, now sucking on your clit and pushing his middle and ring finger into your tightening pussy. he curled his fingers, working slowly and then picking up his speed. your grip on his scalp relaxed as you felt yourself reaching the edge, but something was different. a sense of panic washed over you as you recognized the sensation between your legs.

”w-wait hold on i think i have to- fuck- wait!” you pleaded, but he was too caught up in making you feel as good as possible. the way his fingers curled into your g-spot pressed onto your bladder, and with one gentle bite on your clit, you reached the edge. if you were paying attention, you would’ve noticed the way he smiled against your cunt as if he knew what was happening before you did.

”s-sukuna ohhh my god, fuck! i think i’m gonna-“ your rambling was cut off as a scream was ripped from your throat. as if he predicted the future, he pulled his face away but kept his fingers pumping inside you as you squirted down his face. it came out in spurts as your hips bucked, the clear liquid spraying out and into his open mouth. as you came down from your high, his fingers slowed to a stop and you looked down at the way his half lidded eyes focused on your cunt. your cheeks burned red hot as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand as if he just had the best meal of his life. from his perspective, he did.

your body shuddered from exhaustion but he positioned himself between your legs, pulling his hardened cock out of his pants. “if you don’t want this just say so, but i’m desperate for you baby. can i fuck you? please?” he whined. he tapped his swollen tip against your thigh, smearing a bit of precum onto your skin. a shaky breath escaped his lips as he swiped himself over your slit.

you nodded, ready for more but still weak from your most recent orgasm. “take it slow, okay? you fucked me up a little bit,” you laughed softly, barely able to lift your head high enough to look at him. the lower half of his face was still coated in your juices but his shit eating grin made you feel a little bit less guilty about drowning him in your pussy. it was his doing though, so could he be that mad at you?

one of sukuna’s large hands rested on your thigh, holding your legs apart, and the other was wrapped around his base to guide himself into you. soft, wet squelches filled the cold forest as he pushed deeper into your core. his eyes were focused on the dripping slick between your thighs and once he bottomed out, a deep sigh rolled through his body.

his dark eyes met yours as he began thrusting slowly, and his previously sinister energy had been replaced by something softer. his deep strokes were almost… romantic. “h-how are you doing?” he whispered. his hand found your cheek, brushing away a strand of hair that was stuck to your face. “you look beautiful.”

”f-feels good- mmmphh- so deep inside me,” you responded. his thick shaft stretched you deliciously with every thrust, and your fingers made their way to your clit, rubbing gentle circles. sweat-soaked strands of his hair hung in front of his forehead as he looked down at where your bodies met, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. the poor boy was pussydrunk and he didn’t even know it.

one of your hands settled on his forearm, holding him for support. your other hand slipped up your stomach and under your shirt to push it up. his eyes flicked away from your gushing cunt as you revealed your breasts, now bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

“n-need my mouth on you,” he said, barely finishing his sentence before he bent down to take one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth. the cold air had kept them hard all night, and the way his hot tongue felt swirling around that sensitive spot made you tremble.

your shaking and squirming only seemed to spur him on. he then angled his hips upwards so his tip would be mashing into your g-spot repeatedly. deep groans left his mouth but went straight to your chest - he was stuck between your tits and had no intention of leaving.

his whines became higher pitched, and you could feel his hips start to stutter. “gonna come for me, ‘kuna? gonna fill me up again?” you cooed. the hand on his arm slipped into his hair, slicking it back messily. he shifted his eyes to meet yours and nodded quickly.

”need it, need you so bad, baby, gonna c-cum,” he whispered against your skin. his warm breath danced across your chest and made you arch up into him, your bodies meeting in the middle. the chilled air and heavy lust had you pressed so close against him that you could almost feel the beat of his heart trying to match yours.

your fingers tightened, pulling on his hair slightly harder. this small sign of desperation is what pushed him over the edge. all at once, his balls tensed and his strokes slowed as he reached his high. soft moans punctuated each thrust every time his sensitive tip hit the back wall of your pussy.

“oh ‘kuna, f-fuck,” you sighed. hot, white ropes shot out of his throbbing cock and painted your insides. high pitched whimpers left his throat and were muffled as he buried his head further into your chest. you could feel the way his cock throbbed every time he released more cum. you clenched around him hard, hoping to hold in as much of his warm seed as possible. his hips eventually slowed to a stop and your grip on his scalp loosened.

”w-was that good for you? ‘was good for me,” sukuna breathed out. a dopey smile spread across his features as he pulled out slowly. intently, he watched his cum dribble out of you. his eyes then became focused on yours, waiting for a response.

”yeah, that was pretty good i’d say,” you responded. the air felt sharp against your skin as you fixed yourself up, hoping that the cum running down your leg didn’t look as thick as it felt. after brushing yourself off, sukuna took your hand and led you out of the forest, back towards civilization.

he snickered in reply. “wanna come back to mine? seems like we both need a shower, maybe some food… and we should probably talk.”

[sturnswrites]

terms and conditions - pt.2

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

⤳ you move in with the triplets after losing your apartment prompting a "roommate agreement". after having a tricky relationship with matt, some of the rules begin to blur.

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

The first few days of moving in were... an adjustment. Sharing a house with three brothers was like stepping into a live sitcom, complete with chaotic energy, random outbursts, and an alarming amount of inside jokes I didn’t understand yet.

“Y/N! You left your shoes by the door again!” Nick shouted from the living room.

You poked my head out from your room. “And?”

“And I almost broke my neck tripping over them! You trying to kill me?”

Chris’s laughter echoed from the kitchen. “Yeah, Y/N, if you want to take Nick out, at least make it look like an accident.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled something about dramatics, heading downstairs to retrieve the offending sneakers. Nick was sprawled on the couch, singing some ridiculous pop song at the top of his lungs.

“Is it always like this?” you asked, pointing toward him.

Matt, who was quietly scrolling on his phone in the armchair, glanced up. “Worse, sometimes.” His voice was flat, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Chris leaned over from the kitchen. “This is actually him on a calm day.”

- 

One evening, after a particularly long day, you trudged into the kitchen in search of a snack. The house was quiet for once, which was rare.

“Hey, Matt, do we have any—” you stopped mid-sentence, your brain stuttering to a halt.

Matt stood by the counter, shirtless, a glass of water in hand. The dim light from above highlighted the definition of his shoulders and the lean muscles of his torso. His hair was messy, looking like he had just woken up from a nap, and there was a quiet confidence about him that made the room feel smaller.

He turned, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Nothing. I—uh, I was just—” you gestured vaguely at the pantry, suddenly hyper-aware of how small the kitchen felt.

“Looking for something?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as if he knew exactly why you were flustered.

“Yeah. A snack. But it’s fine. I’ll... I’ll just grab it later.” you turned to leave, but your sock caught on the edge of the rug, and you stumbled.

Matt’s hand shot out, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm.

The brief contact sent a jolt through you, and when you looked up, his face was closer than you expected. His light eyes held yours for a beat too long, and your breath hitched.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low.

The air between you two shifted, heavy with something unspoken.

Before either of you could say a word, Chris’s voice rang out from the living room. “Matt! Are you still hogging the kitchen?”

Matt let go of your arm, clearing his throat. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Sure,” you mumbled, practically running out of the room.

Later that night, long after the others had gone to bed, you found yourself lying in your room, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards as someone shifted in their sleep.

You weren’t tired. Not really.

Your mind kept drifting back to earlier in the kitchen—the way Matt had looked at you, his brow furrowed in that way that made him seem more serious than he actually was. Or how the light had cast a faint glow over his skin, every muscle in his torso so defined it could’ve been sculpted.

You groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. Get a grip, Y/N.

It wasn’t just how he looked, though. It was the way he had steadied you, his grip firm yet gentle, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to let go. And then there was the tone of his voice, low and calm, like he had some kind of unintentional pull over the air around him.

You turned onto your side, burying your face in the pillow. It was nothing. Just an awkward moment between roommates.

Except... it wasn’t nothing, was it?

You’d known Matt for a while now, long enough to recognize that he didn’t let people in easily. He kept most of the world at arm’s length, guarded and cool. But in that moment, when his hand lingered on your arm, it felt different. Like he was letting you in, just for a second.

It was ridiculous to overthink it. You’d agreed—sworn—to keep things platonic. And yet, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had felt it too, that unspoken charge in the air between you two.

You let out a frustrated sigh and rolled onto your back again. “You’re being ridiculous,” you whispered to yourself.

Still, sleep didn’t come easily. And when it finally did, it was filled with flashes of dark eyes, quiet smirks, and the ghost of a touch that lingered far too long.

-

The next day, while you were out shopping with Alyssa, Matt and Chris were hanging out in the living room, Nick upstairs editing.

“So...” Chris started, his tone dripping with amusement.

Matt didn’t look up from his phone. “What?”

“Y/N,” Chris said, dragging out the name.

Matt’s head snapped up. “What about her?”

Chris grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just... there’s some tension there, don’t you think?”

“There’s no tension,” Matt said flatly, but his shoulders were stiff.

“Right,” Chris said, nodding exaggeratedly. “Totally normal for you to go all stoic every time she’s around.”

“Chris,” Matt warned.

“Relax, dude. I’m just saying,” Chris continued, his grin widening. “You’re usually Mr. Cool and Collected, but with her? It’s like you don’t know where to put your hands.”

Matt glared at him. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris said, holding up his hands in surrender. But the glint in his eyes said he wasn’t done stirring the pot.

-

The first time all four of you ended up in the living room late at night, it wasn’t planned. You had gone down to the kitchen for a glass of water, only to find Nick already sprawled across the couch with his laptop balanced on his knees. He was wearing headphones and mouthing the words to a song you couldn’t hear, completely lost in whatever he was editing.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Nick startled slightly, yanking off his headphones. “Oh, hey! Nah, just finishing this edit. It’s way quieter at night, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you replied, smiling as you grabbed your glass.

You hadn’t planned on staying, but before you knew it, Chris came up from downstairs, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. He plopped onto the couch next to Nick, his hair a mess.

“What’s this, an impromptu sibling meeting without me?” he joked, yawning loudly.

“More like an insomniacs’ club,” you said, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table.

Minutes later, Matt emerged from his room, looking far more composed than the rest of you despite the late hour. His eyes scanned the room briefly before he wordlessly sat in the armchair, his quiet presence rounding out the group.

It started simple—Nick rambling about the video he was editing, asking for input that none of you were awake enough to give. Chris chimed in with random anecdotes from his day, weaving exaggerated stories that had us all cracking up, despite how absurd they were.

And then there was Matt, who sat quietly for most of it, his smirks and soft chuckles a steady undercurrent to the lively conversation. He only jumped in when he had something particularly clever or sarcastic to say, and when he did, it always left Nick groaning, Chris clutching his stomach with laughter, and you shaking your head, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

At one point, the conversation shifted to childhood memories, and the brothers began trading stories about growing up together.

“Matt used to eat dirt when he was, like, five,” Chris said, grinning devilishly.

“I did not eat dirt,” Matt shot back, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his faint smile.

“You absolutely did,” Nick chimed in. “You said it was ‘flavorful.’”

You burst out laughing, and Matt groaned, leaning back in the chair. “This is why I don’t talk during these things.”

“Oh, come on, you love us,” Chris teased, throwing a pillow at Matt, who caught it effortlessly.

The mood was light, easy, and for the first time since moving in, you felt like you were really starting to fit into their dynamic.

At one point, Nick started playing music from his laptop, singing along dramatically to every word. Chris joined in, his voice completely off-key, and soon enough, we were all belting out the chorus to some early 2000s pop song, the kind of music that only sounds good when you’re singing it at the top of your lungs with friends.

Matt, to your surprise, even sang a little, though it was more of a quiet hum under his breath. It was rare to see him this relaxed, and it caught you off guard how much you liked it.

By the time the night wound down, you all were all half-asleep. Chris had completely passed out on the couch, Nick was still typing something on his laptop but moving slower than before, and Matt remained in the armchair, his gaze flicking between you as if making sure you were all okay before calling it a night.

You caught his eye for a brief moment, and he gave you the faintest smile, one that felt softer, more genuine than the others he’d given throughout the night.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, standing and stretching.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

As you climbed the stairs to your room, you felt a strange sense of belonging settle over you. This house, chaotic and unpredictable as it was, was starting to feel like home.

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

[grandpeachpersona]

It's A Man's World Chapter 7 (Nice)

Warnings: Flirting slightly, no smut, slow burn, injury (nothing major or no injury to Joe) slight blood mentioned. Lots of Sports talk.

Word Count: 2,930 (Overboard)

A;N Have a Happy Thanksgiving! 🦃🧡

Today is a pivotal day—the last game of the season, and it’s a nail-biter. With a record of 90-75, the stakes couldn't be higher. If we lose, there's still a flicker of hope for a wild card spot. But a victory? That would catapult us straight into the Divisional Championship Game, a dream scenario for any player.

On top of that, I have the incredible opportunity to watch Mr. Joe Cool in action, whom Mia playfully calls my “Future Husband.” Back in college, I was a dedicated fan, never missing a game where he showcased his extraordinary talent. Every time he stepped onto the field, I was mesmerized and captivated by his grace, skill, and looks if you know what I mean.

As I enter Truist Park, an electric energy fills the air. There's a palpable buzz among the fans, an atmosphere that feels almost tangible like anticipation hanging thick and heavy. It's a feeling that's hard to articulate but ignites something deep within me.

Stepping into what could be one of the biggest games of my life, the weight of the moment hangs around me like a cloak. While many might crack under such intense pressure, I choose to thrive in it. The doubters, the naysayers—they only serve to fuel my determination. Their negativity pushes me to dig deeper, to push harder, to give everything I've got. Today is more than just a game; it’s a chance to shine.

The game began on a strong note, with both teams holding their ground during the first couple of innings. Now, we find ourselves at the bottom of the third, and I'm stepping up to bat.

As "Do I Do" by Stevie Wonder plays, I approach home plate with a focused demeanor, considering my options for this at-bat.

Mark Andrew, the pitcher for the Washington Nationals, prepares himself on the mound as my walkout song fades and I assume my batting stance.

He takes a deep breath and delivers his pitch. I notice it's outside the zone, so I refrain from swinging and let the ball pass.

“1 and 0 is the count,” the umpire calls from behind me.

I get myself ready again as he gears up for his next pitch. He winds up and throws once more.

I swing but miss as the curveball passes by.

“Strike!” the umpire shouts.

I nod in acknowledgment and take a step back. That was the pitch I had anticipated; he boasts one of the best curveballs in the league right now.

I step back into the box a raise my bat. ‘Come on, give me something to hit,’ I said in my head

He threw his next pitch, and it all happened so fast. One moment, I was watching the ball being thrown for me to hit, and the next, I found myself on the ground, holding the side of my head because I had just been hit by a baseball. My helmet absorbed most of the impact, but when a baseball comes at you at 95 miles an hour, you definitely feel it.

A gasp swept through the ballpark as the scene unfolded. The catcher immediately waved for a trainer from my dugout before leaning down and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me? Are you okay?” he asked.

For some reason, his voice sounded distant, and I couldn't respond. I just nodded, still holding the side of my head. I guess my helmet flew off when I hit the ground.

Soon, the trainer arrived with a towel. “That was a hard hit. Do you think you can roll over?” he asked, but again, his voice sounded muffled. So, I nodded once more, and they helped roll me over.

I groaned in pain as they rolled me onto my back. Finally opening my eyes, the ringing in my ears stopped, and my hearing returned to normal. “Fuck,” I groaned, hoping the microphones on the field didn’t pick it up.

Justin squatted down next to me. “Hey, we need to get you to the trainer's room. That ball got you pretty good.”

Taking in his words, I moved my hands from my face. “Shit,” I gasped as I noticed my glove was stained with more than just dirt; I was busted open.

I managed to sit up while the trainer pressed a towel against my head. Damn, I’d rather be hit with tennis balls than this—at least they had some cushion.

With their help, I slowly got to my feet as a round of applause filled the stadium. This was definitely not how I envisioned my day going.

Unfortunately, I found myself benched after that incident, nursing a fresh set of stitches on my forehead. While I was grateful there was no concussion or major head injury involved—just a wayward pitch that went terribly wrong—I couldn’t help but feel the sting of frustration. Mark was the pitcher, and I held no grudges against him; I knew it wasn’t intentional. Just hours earlier, we’d been laughing and joking around, sharing inside jokes and pre-game camaraderie. But that’s baseball for you; sometimes, in the heat of the moment, a pitcher loses their grip, and you end up taking a hit.

It was the bottom of the ninth inning, with the air crackling with tension. The scoreboard lit up with a nail-biting 3-3 tie. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as two outs hung in the balance. Austin stepped up to the plate, a determined look on his face. My pinch replacement, Tommy Reese, was on deck, stretching and warming up, ready to step in if the situation called for it.

Over at first base, Ronald Acuña Jr. stood poised, his athletic frame ready to explode into action. All Austin needed to do was make solid contact with the ball and drive it into the outfield. With Ronald’s incredible speed, we all knew he could beat the throw home.

As the closer took his position on the mound, I felt my heart racing in sync with the crowd’s energy. He shot a quick glance back at Acuña before winding up to pitch to Austin.

Austin stood firm, carefully checking his swing as the first pitch sailed by—ball one. It was a good start, and my confidence began to build.

I leaned forward, elbows digging into my knees, every muscle in my body tense with expectation. This was it—the moment we had all been waiting for.

The pitcher glanced once more at Ronald, then took a deep breath and delivered the next pitch. It was as if everything slowed down for just a heartbeat. Austin, eyes locked on the ball, swung with ferocity and precision. The crack of the bat echoed like thunder as the ball soared into the air, arcing gracefully toward the outfield. It sailed further and further until it disappeared into the majestic waterfall display at the park.

A walk-off home run! Victory was ours!

The stadium erupted into a wild celebration, a thunderous roar that sent vibrations through the very ground beneath us. It felt as if the entire stands shook with joy and excitement. Everyone from the dugout charged the field, sprinting toward home plate, united in the thrill of triumph as Austin rounded the bases, his expression a blend of disbelief and exhilaration.

I stood just outside the circle, wise enough to be cautious with my stitches, but that didn’t stop me from celebrating with every ounce of energy I had. I cheered and clapped, sharing in the jubilant atmosphere that surrounded me.

We were heading to the NLDS, baby!

As I settled into my seat for the post-game press conference, I offered a soft but warm greeting to the room, a subtle “hello” that echoed in the anticipation-filled space.

One of the reporters, a familiar face I would later come to know as Dave, leaned forward and asked, “Riley, how are you feeling right now?”

I let out a light chuckle, a mix of relief and exhilaration washing over me. “Honestly, I’m feeling great! The adrenaline is really pumping through me right now, so I’m not even feeling this,” I said, gesturing lightly to my head. “But overall, I’m feeling good.”

From the back of the room, a voice rang out, filled with curiosity. “How proud are you of Austin?” A woman inquired, her tone sincere and warm.

A broad smile broke across my face as I thought about my brother. “I’m incredibly proud of him. That’s my twin right there,” I replied, injecting a bit of humor into the moment. It was a playful reference to the nickname we had given each other for our shared last name.

Laughter erupted around the room, lifting the spirits of everyone present. Just as the chuckles faded, another reporter asked, “When you got hurt earlier, the team looked visibly shaken, but they managed to pull themselves together. How do you all stay focused and regain your composure in such moments?”

I took a breath and nodded firmly.

I nodded firmly. “No matter how much I’m hurting or how tough things get for the team, we stand by each other, always. When you train with the same group through the spring and share the field with them through the summer. A strong bond forms. So whether we win or lose, when you underestimate us, we step onto that field and prove that we are just too nice for yall”

“Girl, you okay? I saw you got knocked upside the head,” Mia asked from the other side of the phone on her way home from work.

Leaning my head back against the headrest of the car as Kyle drove to Mercedes-Benz Stadium, I replied, “Sis, I’m cool. I got a few stitches. I'll be fine in a couple of days.”

“Alright, if you say so,” she sighed. “Are you still going to the game?”

“Pulling up to the stadium as we speak,” I responded, looking out the tinted window.

“Alright, be careful; tell Ja’marr and Joe I said hi,” she said.

“Yes, Mom,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “And I will.”

We hung up just as Kyle pulled into the private parking lot. He looked up in the rearview mirror and asked, “Ready?”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” I replied, putting on my shades. He nodded and got out to open the door for me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I offered.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m a Cowboys fan anyway,” he said.

I feigned a shocked look. “Wow, I’m hurt, Kyle,” I said, shaking my head.

“Sorry, not sorry,” he replied, getting back into the driver's seat.

As I walked into the stadium, security guards escorted me to a private box. It was about thirty minutes until kickoff, and fans were filling the stands, ready for some Thursday night football.

When I entered the box, I noticed a few women already there. At first, I thought the guard had led me to the wrong room, but they reassured me that I was in the right place and welcomed me in. During our conversation, I quickly learned that they were WAGS.

“So, which one are you here for?” one of the women asked. I learned her name was Emma.

I shook my head. “Oh, I’m not dating anyone on the team. Joe, Ja’marr, and I all went to college together, so I'm just here to watch them.”

Speaking of the devils, there they were, taking the field for pregame warm-ups. My eyes drifted to Joe in his uniform. He really looked good in everything—the way his hair fell perfectly and how his tights gripped his thighs.

Girl, get ahold of yourself.

“You okay?” Lexi asked to my left with a slight chuckle.

“Yep... just great,” I responded, crossing my legs to calm myself down somewhat.

Joe started looking around the stadium until he finally found me. When he did, he tapped Ja’marr on the back, said something in his ear, and pointed up at me.

I waved at both of them, and they waved back before turning their attention back to their warm-ups.

God, help me.

The score was 27-27 in the 4 quarter with just 60 seconds left on the clock and the Bengals had the ball if I know Joe he does not want to take this thing into overtime at all.

I sat there holding my breath as the ball was snapped into Joe's hands he looked around the field before he threw a Hail Mary pass to the in-zone hoping someone would catch it and ill be dammed.

Tee Higgins caught that ball at what was the last possible second to give the Bengals the touchdown.

The stadium goes crazy, and so do I. The Bengals just won the game with that play. There was only time for the kick for the extra point.

As Joe made his way back to the sideline he pointed up to my box with a nod. I nod my head back with a smirk, something we did back in LSU as to say,y ‘Who they think they playing with’

The Bengals walked into Atlanta and got the dub 34-27.

After things calm down a bit, security takes me down to the field. I immediately spotted Ja'marr's back talking to Joe. They said Joe and I were thick as thieves. Every time you turned around, these two were together.

Deciding to mess with Ja'marr a bit I ran and jumped on his back.

“What the hell,” he said confused at first then he heard my giggles “Girl if you don't get off of me,” he said in this fake serious tone.

“You'll be okay,” I patted his chest. “Congrats on the dub, you two,” I said, hoping down.

“Thanks same to you, Divisional huh?” Ja’marr congrats me.

I nodded my head with a slight smile. “She's going to get a ring before us, Joe,” Ja’marr said with a fake cry.

I shook my head at him. “You sure he didn't get tackled too hard.”

Joe played along, “You know, been asking myself the same question all season.”

Ja’marr’s jaw drops dramatically. “You know what? I'm going to hit the showers 'cause yall doing too much.”

He walked through the tunnel before he disappeared. “Thought you weren't coming. saw you got hit earlier,” Joe said, turning his attention to me his eyes going straight to the bandage on my forehead.

Looking up at him even though I'm 5 '7 Joe still had a couple of couple inches on me. “I wasn't going to let a hit stop me from seeing you.”

He turned his head, and I could tell he was fighting a grin because the corners of his mouth twitched. “Just me?” he asked.

I pretend to think about it for a minute. “Well, you and Ja’marr if you want to throw him in there, but mostly you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I won't tell him what you said,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

I shrugged. “It's ok, he knows.”

Joe and I continued talking for a minute before his name was shouted out of the tunnel by a Bengals staff member

He turned his head, and I heard him slightly curse “You totally forgot you had a press conference didn't you” I asked trying not to giggle.

He nodded his head “Yep,” he said, popping the “P”

I shook my head. Joe had a one-track mind. He shouted to the person calling for him “I'll be there in a sec” then turned back to me.

“Duty Calls,” he opened his arms for a hug, and of course, I gave him one. Closing the gap, I hugged back despite the bulk of his gear.

It was like home, ignoring the sweat and the smell of grass and mud. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne it just felt all too familiar.

To my dislike we had to let go “Text me when you get home” he said releasing me. I didn't get a chance to respond before he was off toward the tunnel.

Yeah, I guess I will

After popping a Tylenol for my head, I climb into bed, ready to call it a night, but not before reaching for my phone and opening my text messages.

Me

I'm home.

Joe Burrr 🧡

Good. Started to get worried for a minute.

Me

Sorry after the game my head was screaming at me.

Joe Burrr 🧡

Did you take something for it?

Me

Took a Tylenol. Hasn't let me down yet.

Joe Burrr 🧡

Good..You're not going to miss any of your games right?

Me

Naw I'm too tough and got too much on the line to be benched now. I'll be ready come next week.

Joe Burrr 🧡

I know you will but just come out the next one without a hit to the face.

Me

I will try to avoid those the best I can 🫡

Joe Burrr 🧡

Please do. You have to pretty of a face for someone to be playing target practice.

Me

Watch it Joe

Joe Burrr 🧡

What! All I did was give my friend a compliment on her amazing looks.

Me

Well I thank you but now I wanna know what's your favorite look on me?

Joe Burrr 🧡

Any look you have on is my favorite. Ri.

Me

Ok, I'll give you that one

For now…

Joe Burrr 🧡

Maybe I'll have an answer for you in a couple weeks

[dreamscapeee222]

Marriage Headcannons

Jungkook x reader

Masterlist

Jungkook couldn’t wait. He’d been holding onto the ring for weeks, planning the “perfect” proposal, but one lazy evening at home, you made him laugh so hard he thought, why not now? He pulls you into his lap, his heartbeat so loud you can feel it, and blurts out, “Marry me.” When you think he’s joking, he grabs the ring from his pocket and adds, “I don’t need fancy. I just need you.” The simplicity of it, paired with the way he looks at you, makes the moment unforgettable.

He wants it to feel like you two. Nothing over-the-top—just an intimate gathering with friends, family, and a lot of laughter. He insists on writing his own vows, and when he reads them, there’s not a dry eye in the room. “I’m not just marrying my love,” he says, voice trembling with emotion, “I’m marrying my best friend.” When the reception starts, he’s the life of the party, dragging you to the dance floor and making sure the night is filled with joy.

Jungkook’s the kind of husband who makes everyday moments feel special. He randomly hugs you from behind while you’re brushing your teeth, kisses your forehead when he passes by, and sneaks little notes in your bag. Your nights often end with the two of you sprawled on the couch, his head in your lap as you play with his hair. He says things like, “This is my favorite part of the day,” and means it every single time.

Arguments with Jungkook are rare but intense—he feels everything deeply. He’s not great at hiding his emotions, so if he’s upset, you know. But he can’t stand being at odds with you for long. After some space to cool down, he always comes back with those wide, puppy-dog eyes and a quiet, “I was wrong. Can we fix this?” He makes up for it with cuddles so tight you can’t help but forgive him.

Jungkook treats anniversaries like personal holidays. He starts planning weeks in advance, whether it’s a surprise getaway, recreating your first date, or making an elaborate video of your favorite memories. He always writes you a letter, too—filled with his deepest thoughts and reminders of how much you mean to him. “I don’t want to ever forget how lucky I am,” he tells you every year.

Physical affection is his love language, and it shows. If you’re in the same room, Jungkook will find a way to touch you—holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or even just hooking his pinky around yours. He’s also obsessed with giving you forehead kisses. “It’s like I’m recharging my heart,” he jokes with a sheepish smile.

Jungkook dreams big but loves the idea of keeping life simple with you. A cozy house, a couple of dogs, and weekend road trips are his version of bliss. He often talks about your future with an excited glint in his eye. “Imagine us, like, fifty years from now,” he says one night. “Still eating ramen at 2 a.m. but with grey hair.”

You’ll catch Jungkook at his softest during late-night talks. He lies on his back, staring at the ceiling while spilling his deepest thoughts. “Do you think we’re doing life right?” he asks one night, his hand reaching for yours. These moments are raw and vulnerable, and they always leave you feeling closer than ever.

Your life with Jungkook feels like a series of snapshots strung together—simple yet extraordinary, tender yet filled with so much laughter. He makes love feel easy, like coming home to your favorite song on repeat.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

RUNAWAY | abby anderson x reader

free palestine! click this link for more info

synopsis: you and abby are in a mutually destructive situationship. after everything you put each other through, you both always find you way back to one another.

notes: gonna be sooo honest, this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea and that's okay! heed the content warnings. this is a super angsty catharsis piece.

cw: 18+ content MDNI, reader referred to as a girl, alcohol ment., top! abby, mutually toxic relationship, no happy ending, honestly neither of y'all are good people

word count: 1k

all you could do was sigh when you read the text that popped up on your phone. 

can i see you tn?

it was 2AM, you and your friends were on the way back home from the club. you had texted abby hours ago. you always did this after drinking. not because your judgment was impaired, instead you wanted to be able to blame your actions on the alcohol. you would’ve texted her completely sober. you often did. 

“what are you staring at on your phone?” your friend tried to snap you out of it, but nothing would stop you. your friends learned to stop trying.

the text interaction was instigated by you, around 8PM, after one sip of a cocktail your friend had made for you. 

fuck you abby

who is this new girl? 

what happened to all the shit you said last week?

she had posted a picture with some pretty redhead on her arm, her face buried in the crook of abby’s neck. she always did this. she knew it would make you mad.

and you always took the bait. 

now it was 3AM, your friends had left you for the night, and abby was knocking on your door. you had sobered up in the last hour or so. your mind was clear. all of your actions were your own. 

immediately abby leaned in for an embrace, prompting you to practically leap back. 

“who the fuck is she?” there was an undeniable venom in your voice. you didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

abby moved past you, crossing the threshold into your apartment. “she’s one of manny’s exes. we’re still cool so me and nora had dinner with her. that’s it.” 

cue the inevitable repetitive screaming match that you two would end up in once every few weeks. the walls were thin and you knew your neighbors could hear. luckily, they minded their business. 

“abby it’s like you don’t give a fuck about my feelings! all week you're texting me ‘i miss you’, ‘you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel this way’. what happened to that?”

you couldn’t ever stay mad at her. you used the same playbook she did. after a couple weeks of not talking, a post on social media would lure her back in. an “accidental”

i had so much fun with you last night <3

that was immediately unsent. it was a song and dance that both of you were perpetually stuck in. after this long, it felt like you couldn’t leave the dancefloor now. 

for the record, abby wasn’t lying. it was just dinner. nothing else. it was clear the girl wanted her. hugging her for just a moment too long, getting a little too handsy when they went to the club together, the frequent requests for one on one hangouts. 

abby wasn’t anywhere near interested. 

she didn’t want any of the girls she would entertain for a week, sometimes a month (never longer). she couldn’t fuck them without thinking of you. without missing you. one too many times when a girl was between her legs she had accidentally uttered your name. 

that’s why every argument resulted in the pure bliss of hate filled make up sex. whoever was on the receiving end of the accusations would placate the other with ‘they dont mean anything’, ‘i just miss you so fucking much’, ‘i wanna be with you’. 

that night when you’re face down in the mattress, back arched, her strap buried impossibly deep inside you, you forget everything. the reasons you hate her. why you would never work. she takes you by the chin and pulls you up, back flush against her chest, fucking up into you while she whispered in your ear.

“fuck, you look so good like that. my pretty girl.”

you would always be her’s.

“such a fucking slut. only running back to me when you need to be fucked back into your place, yeah?” she hoped that wasn’t true. she wants to hear you say that it isn’t true.

“i love you, abby.” was all you could manage to say between thrusts.

abby starts thrusting with a fervor. her hands were gripping your hips so tight you feared they might bruise. she knows your body so well that she can tell when you’re about to cum. you’d dig your nails into her arms, gasping for air, whimpering her name. 

“i love you too, baby girl.” 

that was all it took for the floodgates to open. 

neither of you had lied. you both loved each other more than anything in the world. you said it during arguments, over dinner, at the end of a phone call, and most often during sex. 

if it came down to it, you would die for one another. 

the orgasm was so intense it brought tears to your eyes. abby could fuck you for hours, and she often did, especially when you were mad at her. tonight was one of those nights. by the time the sun had fully risen in the sky you were both sweaty, sore, and exhausted. 

you spent the next few weeks together. she had a key to your apartment that you hadn’t taken back after any of your fallouts. after work, you would find her at home, making your favorites for dinner. she came and went as she pleased, but you knew she’d be back. such was the nature of your relationship. 

when it’s good, it’s amazing. when it’s bad, it’s miserable. the good never lasted long. your record best was a little more than two months. then, one of you would get antsy, terrified of the ‘what are we?’ conversation. 

after being away from each other, the monotony of peace set in. one of you would find a way to snake back in. 

you were mutually destroying each other. you knew that. abby knew that. a happy ending wasn’t likely for either of you. 

but, that was okay. 

she was familiar. this was easier. you had to leave or live with it. 

and here you were, laying in her arms, pressing kisses against her chest and collarbones, while she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

[twiishaa]

HIHI POOKIEEE !!! CONGRATS ON UR 100 FOLLOWERS UR AMAZING GIRL💋💋 CAN I COME TO THE SLUMBER PARTY AND BRING FLUFFY SOCKS, WE CAN WATCH A ROMCOM MOVIE AND PLAY SOME ROBLOX OBVIOUSLY W MY EVERYTHING SUNA RIN<33 ALSO UR EATING RN UR WRITING IS SO YUM LOVE U💕💕 😭🙏

! 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 twisha’s 100 followers slumber party ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

— flat whites, tiramisu cookies and saccharine kisses

suna x reader, wc approx 1k warnings my baker side came out

check out the event!

—

suna rintarou was a regular at your dainty little cafe.

it was laughable, but he said aesthetic didn’t matter because your flat whites are banging. everyday, he had a routine: before uni, grab a coffee to go, make a comment on your song choice, then after uni, come for a few hours to study and chat gossip.

it was like second nature to him— your cafe was his second home. originally, he only came as a dare from the miyas. but, when he saw you, the waitress, (and tried the flat white, obviously), he could tell he was going to be a regular. the ambience definitely wasn’t his vibe— pink, delicate and girly, and you yourself were a little like the miyas that he didn’t necessarily enjoy, but for some reason he found himself attracted to your little cafe, only a few minutes’ walk from his university.

—

you looked at the clock. there were only a few minutes before the cafe closed, but that didn’t register, as you were more occupied with the conversation at hand.

“nope. never baked in my life, or cooked.” suna said, shaking his head.

“what?” you exclaimed. “do you just… live off uber eats or something??” you laughed, imagining suna eating a big mac.

he took a sip of his second flat white of the day. “no, one of my mates cooks decently enough. we just, leech off him.” he chuckled.

god, was he attractive.

you’d thought suna was cute ever since he first ordered a flat white. he was in a volleyball team in his uni, and he looked gorgeous in everything he wore. yes, suna was the complete opposite to you, but something about his fox-like personality and almond eyes tempted you. you wanted him to be your boyfriend. you’d even perfected your flat white, his go-to order, so he’d come back; it was like you were luring him with your coffee.

at that moment, you realised you had a few new cookie flavours you were testing for the new seasonal bakes. your mind concocted some intricate plan to get closer and spend more time with your little cafe crush.

“hey, i have a few new cookie flavours i need another opinion on…” you tried to say nonchalantly, like you suggest this to everyone you meet.

you definitely didn’t.

“are you suggesting i try them?” suna asked, finishing your question.

for some reason unbeknownst to you, your face went red.

“i mean, if you want to-“

suna laughed, just adding fuel to the fire.

“why would i ever say no to cookies? especially yours?”

oh god.

—

and so, suna found himself in your cafe’s kitchen, as you lined up three perfectly shaped, decorated cookies, their colours on a spectrum from beige to a dark, rich, brown. the scent from them was mouth-watering.

suna thought you looked adorable when you were concentrating.

you stepped back from the cookie masterpieces.

“right. there’s hot chocolate, salted caramel and tiramisu.” you said, pointing at each.

“hot chocolate, salted caramel and tiramisu. okay. got it.” suna repeated.

“which one do you want to try first?” you looked at suna, his eyes moving between the three sweet treats.

after a few seconds, he replied: “tiramisu. a tiramisu cookie sounds like it could be banging.”

you handed the leftmost cookie to him, covered in cream cheese buttercream and topped with cocoa powder; he held it like it was a delicate child.

carefully, suna took a bite out of it, then licked the frosting off his top lip. the flavours were perfect— the slight hint of coffee, the sweetness of the buttercream paired with the bitter cocoa powder. it was heavenly— suna let out a hum from satisfaction.

“that’s good,” he said, finishing his bite and taking another.

your heart felt full from his reaction. “i’m glad you like it,” you replied, blushing. suna noticed you looking at his face for a bit too long.

“hm? do i have something on my face?” he asked looking at you, his cheeks gaining a pink hue.

“yeah you just..” you said.

getting on your tiptoes, you wiped off a stray crumb from his cheek.

“there.” you whispered, still close to suna’s face. he even looked beautiful this close, your face only a few centimetres from his.

he was staring into your eyes earnestly. the smell of your perfume and a slight hint of baked goods filled suna’s senses; all he could think about was you, his mind was clouded.

he wanted your saccharine taste. without thinking, he inched closer until he could feel each of your careful breaths.

suddenly, you felt his lips on yours. it took a second for you to process what was going on; suna rintarou, your silly little cafe crush, was kissing you!

surprised at first, you slowly closed your eyes and relaxed a little. you felt a pair of arms slowly snake around your waist, which you took as invitation to put your arms around his neck. you could taste the tiramisu he had only moments before, your stomach doing flips.

quickly, suna pulled away, his casual exterior breaking a little. his face was flushed from the kiss you two shared.

breathing heavily, he avoided eye contact with you.

“sorry.” he started with, then exhaled deeply.

“i don’t know what came over me, i just-“

giggling, you walked towards him, getting on your tiptoes again to hug him. maybe if you avoided eye contact things would less awkward, you thought. somewhat stiffly, you rested your chin on his shoulder. suna relaxed a little, reading the room.

“what if i said i didn’t mind that…” you whispered.

this time it was suna’s turn to chuckle, his laugh warming your cheeks. “then i’d ask if i could be your boyfriend,” he said, letting go from the hug but holding on to your shoulders.

—

it was now nearing the end of autumn, and the days were beginning to get colder. you were fixing the display at the counter when someone came in, taking his scarf off as he entered.

“oh, hi!” you beamed. it was your boyfriend, suna.

“hey.” he said, sitting down at the counter, after giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“i’ll have a flat white, and a tiramisu cookie, please,”

you smiled.

note thank you pookie!!! love you more ☹️🙏🙏 okay i had so so much fun writing this one!!!!! feel free to request love you guys bye!!

[velocidaixxtor]

🎶✨List 5 songs you like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶

Thank you for tagging me @a-treus ♡♡♡

Hallo spaceboy (Pet Shop Boys remix) - David Bowie

Polarlicht - Xmal Deutschland

Siempre acampa - Peligrosos Gorriones

Comedown - OhGr

Love will save you - Swans

@somekeepsakes, @disintegratingeros, @dedicatedfollowerofrock, @corvus-pictor, @halo--hall, @lastflowerss, @mysticfrullato, @imstuckintime

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

things we learn about mulder in s1

he wanted to be an astronaut when he was young, and stayed up all night when he was 14 to watch his hero do a walk in space

he's scared to death of fire because his friend's house burned down when he was a kid

he went to oxford 10 years before the start of s1, where he dated phoebe and they, at the very least, made out on arthur conan doyle's grave (but it's implied they went all the way)

he is a fan of like. all of the sports. i cannot keep up with them all, but he sure can

he had his first case at the age of 28, where an agent died because he wouldn't take a risky shot

(and he remembers everything about the man who died- his kids, their ages, what they do for fun- all of it haunts him)

((he also, at the trial for the man who killed the agent, screamed that he "should die like an animal, you son of a bitch"- so much for cool and composed spooky mulder))

he always falls asleep on his couch to the point where i don't even know if this man has a bed

before being moved to the x-files, he worked for 3 years at the behavioral science unit, where he profiled serial killers

(also literally no one wants him on the x files they just keep him around because he is too dangerous to fire lmao)

he will go out of his way to make any kids involved a case he's assigned to feel comfortable and/or laugh as a break from the Heavy Moments (probably because he remembers being questioned while very young and how awful it felt)

he believes that siblings have a psychic connection (heartbreaking when you remember his sister disappeared when he was 12 and he only has access to the memories due to hypnosis)

he refused to let his parents call him by his first name and only went by "mulder", even as a child

[helielune]

i'll angel in the snow until i'm worthy (snow angel)