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ittybittyfanblog · 5 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 10

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, family issues, generational trauma, self-growth, personal issues (and dealing with it), hurt and comfort, hmmmm…. let’s leave it at that for now :) A/N: Final chapter, guys! Thanks so much for reading <3

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Oh, what the hell—since when do you cook?”

“Bitch,” you laugh, nudging past them, the ceramic pot still steaming in your hands. “Do you want the risotto or not?”

The scent of garlic and pecorino permeates the air as you stand in front of the small foyer of the duplex where your friend—questionable, at the moment—lives. Your most recent culinary masterpiece, deemed safe (enough) for public consumption, rests between your hands in silent offering to the skeptic figure who’s barring you from crossing the threshold.

It’s still warm, and you’re not one to brag, but you think you’ve outdone yourself with this one. Not that it matters—everybody’s a fucking critic these days.

“Risotto?” Khol parrots in disbelief. “You don’t show up in forever, suddenly you’re all cuoca straordinario or some shit. Get out of here with your Mario ass–”

“Don’t mind them,” Anna interjects from behind your biggest hater, all cheer as she plucks the pot from your hands. “This smells amazing, actually. Come in!”

With that, she vanishes inside, leaving you and Khol alone in the doorway. You give them a knowing look.

“Oh wow,” you remark, all mock surprise. “You live together now?”

Khol rolls their eyes, already tired of you. “You missed the biggest arc of the last five months, but yeah.”

You step inside, and right away, something feels… different. It could partly be due to how much time has passed since you last visited, and it’s clearly still their place—the brooding industrial-emo aesthetic remains intact, still suspiciously close to resembling the lair of an angsty comic book antihero on acid—but it’s been overtaken by bits of boho-chic scattered all over the space.

Where there was once nothing but charcoal, vinyl, and concrete, there are now textures. Colorful woven throws drape artfully over the arm of the leather Eames sofa they won off a Craigslist bid. Tasseled pillows have multiplied across every seat surface like some kind of fabric-based contagion, while pothos vines dangle lazily from macramé hangers, stretching towards the moody Edison bulbs like they’re trying to escape the existential crisis of living here.

And then there’s the rug. Oh god, the rug.

A comically massive tufted ‘Flower Power’ rug sprawls across the center of the room, a swirling explosion of pinks and oranges—a final, cutesy fuck you to the apartment’s formerly depressing atmosphere before Khol’s new roommate staged her cheerful coup.

It should’ve been a hilarious sight, like a chaotic school art project where every kid picked a different medium to color and refused to compromise. But somehow… it works?

Against all odds, the goth cryptid and the hippie gremlin have found domestic equilibrium.

“Love what you did with the place, Anna,” you call out, toeing off your shoes at the door. “It doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old’s fantasy bedroom anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Khol laughs, shaking their head. “As if you’re one to talk. Last time I visited, you still had that stupid-ass sofa. Is it still there?”

You sniff haughtily. “Excuse you, but that’s a custom piece. You wouldn’t get it.”

"Alright, you two," Anna says, leaning against the archway between the living room and kitchen, one hip propped against the frame. "Both of you have terrible taste in decor. Now, I have a fabulous Prosecco to pair with the risotto." She tilts her head, shooting her partner a pointed look. "Khol, darling, be a dear and grab the crystal from the cupboard?"

"Whipped," you sing as Khol, predictably, does exactly as told. They don’t even bother with a comeback, just flashes you a lazy middle finger over their shoulder as they disappear from view.

You grin, shaking your head. The moment stretches into something easy, comfortable. It’s nice—being here, bantering like no time has passed. You let yourself sink into it, tugging off your beanie as you cross the room.

The creaky couch welcomes you like an old friend, and you flop down unceremoniously, stretching your legs out, rubbing your feet against the oversized monstrosity of a rug that is... honestly, pretty fucking comfortable, actually.

Anna follows suit, settling beside you with far more grace, tucking one foot under the other.

She watches you for a moment, expression warm but slightly inquisitive. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

You exhale, tipping your head back, staring up at the beams on the ceiling. "Yeah, sorry. Been a little out of it these past… couple of months, I guess."

Anna makes a quiet noise, something between understanding and acknowledgment. "You’re doing okay now?"

The easy answer sits on your tongue—yeah, of course. An automatic response, a reflex built from habit. Another front to put up, another lie to slip behind.

But you’ve been working on this. So instead, you take a breath and say,

"Not… really."

The words feel foreign, heavy, but oddly freeing as they leave your mouth.

Your gaze flickers to the side table; framed photos of Khol and Anna, smiling, sunlit. You don’t linger.

“I mean, better now compared to, maybe, a few weeks ago. I’m getting there.”

Anna’s brows lift slightly – not in surprise at the sentiment itself, but at the fact that you admitted it out loud. There’s something thoughtful in her expression, something softer around the edges. “Good. That’s good.”

You can tell she means it. Maybe even more than you expected.

"Yeah."

There’s a brief lull. You catch yourself tugging at the edge of your cardigan—a nervous habit you never quite broke. The warmth of the apartment is settling in you quite comfortably, but there’s something about sitting still under Anna’s gentle scrutiny that makes you restless.

From the kitchen, there’s the unmistakable clink of glass, followed by a muffled, “shit.”

Anna exhales, long-suffering. “I don’t know why I even bother buying nice things.”

“‘Oy,” Khol’s voice carries from the other room, “get in here and help. We have, like, seven things to carry.”

You take that as your cue, trailing after Anna into the kitchen. Between the three of you, it’s quick work—bowls of warm, brothy risotto in hand, glasses of white wine balanced carefully between fingers.

By the time you step back into the living room, Khol is already dropping onto the blue accent chair near the window with all the dramatics of someone who’s worked far too hard for far too little.

You settle into your usual spot, Anna beside you. You don’t touch your food. Your appetite’s still in remission, though it’s been steadily improving lately.

Khol notices. “Now, why the hell aren’t you eating?” They shoot you a side-eye like you’ve personally offended them. “I knew it. You put something in this, didn’t you?”

“Jesus, Khol,” Anna sighs, exasperated, already two spoonfuls in. “Your diet was literally gas station burritos and eight-pack Coors before I moved in. You’ll live.”

She pauses, though, casting you a look. “Don’t get me wrong—this is really good.”

“Ha,” you retort as Khol prods suspiciously at a floating mushroom. You glare. “Are you fucking kidding me–”

“Alright, alright.” With an exaggerated sigh, Khol finally takes a bite. They chew once, twice—eyes narrowed in concentration, acting like some hard-ass seasoned judge from Top Chef. You can practically see them digging for something snarky to say... until, begrudgingly, they nod.

“Shit. This is actually pretty good. Who are you?”

You preen at the praise.

For a while, there’s nothing but the quiet clinking of spoons against ceramic, the occasional satisfied hum. It’s… nice. Comfortable in a way you haven’t felt in what feels like forever.

You’ve missed this.

Missed being here. Missed being with people.

Somewhere between the second glass of wine and the last few bites of risotto, Khol angles their head toward you, their curiosity piqued. “How come you’re free today? You on leave or something?”

You swirl the drink in your hand, watching the light catch on the amber surface before answering. “Oh, I quit my job.”

There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know what reaction you were expecting, but Khol just blinks at you. "Huh. Finally."

Anna looks mildly more concerned. "You quit?"

You nod, stretching your legs out beneath the coffee table. “Yeah. The OT was getting ridiculous, and they had me working night shifts again. That was kind of the last straw for me.”

Khol grunts in agreement. “Good fucking riddance. That job was killing you.” They pause for a beat, turning serious, contemplative. “You’re not hung up about it, are you? You’ve been bitching about that job for ages.”

You exhale through your nose, staring at the rim of your glass. “Yeah, no. I’m glad I left.” The words come easily, and they’re mostly true. But still—there’s something about suddenly having all this space, this aimless in-between, that makes you antsy.

A thought strikes you, and you glance up. “Hey, you know if Marion's still looking for someone to work part-time at the bistro?”

Khol raises an eyebrow. "You looking to apply? It’s minimum wage, just telling you in advance."

"That’s fine," you assure them. "I just need something on the side. I’m doing freelance work right now, I just want something to fill in the gaps."

Anna perks up at that. "I think that’s a great idea. I can hit up Marion later, but I’m pretty sure they’re still looking."

Khol stares at you, and for once, they don’t have a quip lined up. No sharp-edged humor, no quick banter; just a quiet look of something almost foreign on their face. Pride. Maybe even relief. You’ve worried them. The realization jars you like a pebble dropped into a clear pond, sending ripples through the stillness of your self-imposed isolation. You hadn’t meant to, not really. It wasn’t like you deliberately wanted to disappear... But you did, didn’t you? You let the days blur into weeks, then months, telling yourself naively that no one would notice if you just, vanished for a while. Five months, to be exact.

You press your lips together, clearing your throat against the tightness creeping in. “Thanks,” you say, quiet but sincere. “Really.”

Khol snorts, and the moment shatters. “You can show your thanks by knocking ten percent off the cocktails when we visit.”

You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Get me the job first, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Anna grins, raising her glass. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

––––

You get the job.

You stand in front of the fogged-up mirror, dragging your palm across the wet glass. The reflection that stares back is warped, smudged—half-formed, half-there—but unequivocally yours.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have been able to say that with certainty. Back then, the figure in the mirror had been more ghost than person—distant, spectral. Fractured. Someone you watched from the outside, not as a host of the flesh you inhabit.

Now, though, the pieces are starting to slot back into place. Some are still missing, and others don’t quite fit as they once did. You doubt it will ever return to how it was… But slowly, a familiar shape is coming back into focus. More than the shadow of a woman, but you. Time moves like water carving through rock; gradual, barely perceptible, but steady. Inevitable.

The shifts are diminutive. A morning where you wake up feeling less crushed by the weight of grief in your chest. An afternoon where you suddenly break into laughter, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve heard it in weeks. A quiet night where you go to bed without feeling like you’re stuck frozen in an endless loop of wishing, waiting for the impossible.

You’re here, alive. Present. And for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you’re doing more than just holding on.

(You think he’d be proud of you.)

And the thought doesn’t leave you aching the way it used to.

––––

“You think I can handle taking care of another living thing? Like a plant?” You ask Maru, glancing at him lounging by the window, right where a sliver of afternoon sunlight spills across the floor. “I mean, I raised you well enough, I think. But you’re pretty self-sufficient anyway.” Maru looks unimpressed. His tail flicks once—dismissive, uninterested—before he returns to grooming himself, utterly indifferent to both your question and your sudden enthusiasm for gardening. “Well, if your dad can grow plants in that dungeon he calls a base, I’m sure I can manage,” you mutter unconvincingly. “How hard can it be?”

–

By the middle of the second week into your little project, you begrudgingly admit that your tiny repotted begonia isn’t exactly thriving. You don’t want to be a pessimist, but the (browning) margins seem to curl inward—more than they should, if the reference pics on that “Indoor Succulents” blog you’re subscribed to are anything to go by.

You eye it dubiously, trying to stay gung-ho about the whole thing, forcing yourself to look up care tips again. It’s just a plant. Not rocket science. So you do the research, gather more supplies, and give it another shot. You reposition it closer to where the sun lands—earning a disgruntled hiss from the sunbathing feline—and sprinkle a careful amount of water just beneath the leaves, closer to the root. Then you lean back, waiting, tapping your foot impatiently like it’s supposed to just... fix itself.

–

The next few days pass with you watching it more than you’d care to admit—checking, hoping, second-guessing yourself.

You narrow your eyes at the leaves, more russet than Inca Flame red, still hanging limp like a sad testament to your lack of skill.

But you keep at it, because you’re nothing if not stubborn.

–

A single flower has bloomed.

You stand there, spray bottle in hand, caught in quiet awe at the metallic pink sprout peeking through the foliage. It’s small, delicate, barely more than a bud, but unmistakably there—nestled among heart-shaped leaves that, for the first time in weeks, look alive. Brighter.

A faint smile tugs at your lips. It’s not groundbreaking, not by a long shot. But it’s something.

The fragile blossom clings onto dear life, stubbornly seeking the sun rays, inching toward the warmth it needs to grow—larger, stronger.

You can’t wait to bear witness to it.

––––

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up in this situation; all you could recall past the sweat blurring your vision is the memory of being in front of the reception desk, pen in hand, scrawling your name onto the sign-up sheet for beginner boxing lessons.

It’s not… something you planned on doing, really. You’d been showing up for the past week, trying to convince yourself that fitness was something you could get into. Something you could stick with. But this one’s more of an impulse decision, fueled by a mix of post-workout endorphins and the misplaced confidence that sometimes follows after an extra few—unpremeditated!—minutes on the elliptical.

It all started with a casual glance at a flyer taped to the wall beside the water dispenser.

GET TOUGHER, FASTER, STRONGER! SIGN UP NOW!

The cheesy tagline stared you down as you were in the middle of refilling your teal green AquaFlask. And for some dumb reason—sheer curiosity, definitely not because it reminded you of a certain someone—you thought: Why not?

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’d marched straight up to the nearest staff at the counter, credit card in hand, and asked to sign up. Now, as you stare at the buff woman currently goading you to hit harder, reality sets in and you feel a little lightheaded. Even slightly delirious.

“Up, up–” your trainer urges, somehow not even remotely out of breath, despite being thirty grueling minutes into the session. Meanwhile, you’re standing there, red-faced and sweating like a fucking pig. “Keep your arms up at all times, alright?”

You pant, nodding weakly, fixing your posture. She gives you an approving nod in return.

It’s part of the whole self-improvement thing, anyway. Pushing yourself. Fitness, jazz, and all that. You’ve never had much inclination for sports or anything remotely physically taxing, as far as you can recall.

…Or maybe that decision was made for you the moment you tried out for volleyball in high school and took a spike straight to the face. A memory so humiliating, that your brain did you a favor and buried it deep in the recesses of your mind.

But things are different now! You’re trying new things. You’ve done wall climbing, aerobics, even pulled a hamstring attempting HIIT Tae Bo. And if getting punched in the face is the next step in this… wellness journey, then, well, so be it. You’ll take it with a brave face and, hopefully, minimal bruising to both body and ego.

You slog through two sets of combos and thirty jab-straight-hook-uppercuts, punching like your life depends on it. You’re wheezing like an asthmatic child, and you’re about one bad punch away from toppling over.

Then, mercifully—

“Okay, that’s enough for today.”

Oh, thank god.

“You did good,” she tacks on, flashing you an encouraging smile, like you didn’t just spend the last half hour flailing at the focus mitts with all the grace of a wrecking ball.

You stare at her, unconvinced. Did I? Because from where you’re standing—wobbling, really—you’re pretty sure you looked closer to an overstimulated toddler throwing hands with gravity, but sure. It must’ve been in the fine print, to segue in a little positive reinforcement. Probably to keep people from bolting after the first session.

Not that you’re planning to. No, of course not. You’re just... reevaluating some things. Like your life choices. And your capacity to lift your arms tomorrow. As you trudge your way out of the yoga-studio-turned-boxing-area, still gulping for air and very aware of the soreness settling into your limbs, someone calls out.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You turn your head, blinking in confusion. A guy—mid to late twenties, give or take—jogs up to you, looking offensively too fresh compared to how you feel. “Oh, hi. Sorry, do you mean me?”

He laughs as he slows to a stop, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Yeah, you. I saw you training with Coach. Just wanted to say—you’re improving.”

You blink. Wait, what?

A wave of mortification rolls through you. Shit, you didn’t know you had an audience. “Uh—thanks, I guess?”

You shift your weight awkwardly, clutching your boxing gloves tightly against your chest.

His grin turns sheepish, as though he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Fuck, sorry. That came out weird, didn’t it? I swear, I wasn't, like, watching the whole thing or anything.” He makes a vague gesture to his left. “The studio’s right in my line of sight when I did my TRX reps. Hard not to notice.”

You force a smile. “Ah, yeah. Figures.”

“I’m Byron, by the way,” he offers, sticking out a hand.

Now that you get a proper look at him, you notice he’s got this kind of… geeky charm going for him. Curly hair, sleepy brown eyes behind round, rimless glasses, and shy boy-next-door vibes—except for the fact that he’s jacked.

(Honestly? Work.)

You give him your name, still smiling awkwardly. You’re about to wave goodbye and turn away when— “So, what are you doing later?”

Um.

You hesitate. “I’m, uh… heading straight home after this?” Your voice comes out a little more uncertain than you intended, mostly because you’re not really sure why he’s still talking to you.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replies quickly, glancing down like he’s suddenly nervous. “I just… thought I’d ask if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime?”

Oh.

It takes a moment for the question to fully register. The first thought that pops in your head is: Wait, how does he know I’m a barista?

… The second thought is one of pure disbelief. Holy shit, did I just get asked out? At the gym? By the Temu version of Peter Parker?

Your face burns hotter than it did mid-workout, caught completely off guard.

“I—woah, um.” You stumble over your words, eyes quickly darting away from him. “Sorry, I already have… a boyfriend. If—if that’s what you’re leading up to.”

You say it like a question. He picks up on it.

“You don’t sound too convinced,” he comments with a light chuckle, shaking his head. “If you’re not interested, you can just say that, you know.”

A prickle of irritation flares up, followed by something sharper—something that stings. You push it down. “No, he’s just… not around.” “Ah.” He clicks his tongue sympathetically. “Long distance?” “…Yeah.” You have no idea.

He shrugs, undeterred. “Alright, no pressure. We could always just hang out as friends, if you want.”

I… don’t think I do. “Um, maybe?” you answer instead, forcing out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he says, his grin widening. “You can even introduce me to your boyfriend,” he emphasizes the word out, “when he gets back. Does he work out? We could all hit the gym together.”

Social anxiety is afraid of this man, you think belatedly. Unfortunately for him, you’re the very embodiment of what fears him.

You’re so out of your element that all you can manage is, “He boxes too, actually.”

“Yeah? He any good?”

That gets an involuntary snort out of you. Unthinkingly, you say, “Could probably beat you up.”

Byron laughs, startled but amused, shaking his head as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—message received.” He flashes you a wide smile. “Well, if you change your mind about the coffee, I’ll be around.” He jerks his chin toward the pack fly by the corner. “There, usually.”

Okay, nerd. Despite yourself, you can’t help but find the whole thing slightly hilarious. Then again, you find humor in the dumbest things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You offer him a quick, half-hearted wave, trying (and failing) to mask your embarrassment with an exaggerated, too-casual show of nonchalance. It’s so painfully awkward, you can feel yourself internally dying from the cringe of it all.

Without another word, you spin on your heel and start speed-walking away, practically running back to the safety of your personal space.

Smooth.

––––

It’s another relatively easy night at the bistro. You’re on the last two hours of your shift, and you’re carrying a single glass of roseberry mule to serve at table four. As you round the corner, you catch sight of a student, glasses perched low on her nose, completely absorbed in a thick coursebook on Programming Languages. Papers are scattered across the table, and she looks to be utterly engrossed in her readings, unaware of the world around her.

You don’t want to bother her more than necessary, about to set the drink down on the only clear space—by the iPad propped up on a tablet holder to her right—when something red catches your attention.

A familiar pair of crimson eyes stops you dead in your tracks.

For a moment, you feel like you’re suspended in time. The sharp memory of a similar instance where you’re in her place, and he’s there, keeping you company while he’s polishing a gun burns through your brain, and you don’t–you can’t think—

You stand there, rooted to the spot, wide-eyed and unmoving. Then, the girl’s gaze shifts to you, and a hot flush spreads across her cheeks, betraying her surprise.

With swift fingers, she locks the screen with a quick flick on the power button, pulling you away and breaking you from the echoes of the past.

“Oh, shit,” she giggles, a nervous edge to her voice. “That’s embarrassing.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself back to the present moment. “No—no, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle weakly, setting the drink down beside her with shaky hands. “Cute guy, honestly.”

That makes her giggle louder, her eyes bright with an almost conspiratorial glint. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

Fuck—you can’t breathe.

––––

The night hangs thick with stifling heat, accompanied by the steady ticking of the clock as you catch your breath, your broken moans too loud in the heavy silence. The sheets cling to your feverish skin, damp and uncomfortable, as your body moves in a rhythm that feels unnatural now, but still—but always—familiar.

Your chest rises and falls in shallow, rapid breaths as you force the draconic toy deep inside you. The heat, the fire—it licks at your skin, making your whole body yearn for more. To chase more of the feeling, to chase more of the memory of him.

Errant strands of hair stick to your forehead, your chest flushed and burning, a quiet throb spreading through you with every friction, every desperate movement.

Your body aches, a relentless thrum urging you to push deeper, to find something—anything—to fill the gaping hole inside you, a wound you’ve tried to stitch shut over months, now threatening to tear its way open again, once more ripping from the seams.

A sharp pressure builds inside you. Your body stretches too far, too much, struggling to take in what it can’t quite handle. It burns in a way that hurts, but you need it. You need to feel more, to fill the emptiness, to grasp at something that feels real.

“Yours, yours–” you tremble, desperate. “Yours. Just yours. Please.”

You lie in the wake of it—pleasure fading into something heavier, regret creeping in like a shadow, waiting as always.

“I miss you,” you whisper in the dark. You always do.

You try to ignore the pull of it, the sharp descent that comes with the high.

You were doing so well.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Everything’s fine.

The words swirl and echo in your mind, until they’re swallowed by sounds that ring hollow. You let the moment wash over you, sinking beneath the weight of the tides, where sorrow and longing blur with the fleeting warmth of what you can’t keep.

Tomorrow will be another day. Another chance to try again.

For now, you let go of your grip on the fragile raft of sanity you’ve built, painstakingly, for months on end.

Tonight, you let yourself drown once more in the somber depths of loneliness and despair, confined within these four walls that feel—once more—like a penitentiary.

––––

The plane begins its slow descent, and through the window, the world comes into view—large swathes of land interrupted by winding roads that seem to follow no rhyme, nor pattern. A river glints faintly beneath the fading sun, while the sky turns a dull blue, a washed-out slate, streaked with the last embers of daylight.

Below, the small city stirs.

Tiny specks of color flicker to life, lanterns strung along the streets like beads on a thread, marking the season, an ending, and the inevitable turning of time. A chill hangs in the air, the wind whipping past you from the half-open window of the taxi, sharp and crisp in a way that you can only find in the province.

Your hometown.

It all rushes past in a blur of light and shadow, an eclectic mix of old and new—some buildings unchanged, others unfamiliar, as if they’d sprung up in the years you’ve been away. It’s been a while since you last came back, long enough for the roads to feel... foreign, almost. Though muscle memory stirs when the car takes a turn. One you could have easily navigated even with your eyes closed.

Only your sister lives here now, her and her family—a couple of hundred miles far. Far enough to feel like another world, yet close enough for the past to catch up the moment you lay eyes on the old two-story house tucked away on the quaint cul-de-sac of this suburban neighborhood.

The residential property was left to her, scrawled onto the title in an act of generosity, perhaps. Or maybe as a weight your mother never intended to carry, something meant to anchor her eldest child while she carved a different life for herself elsewhere. Free-spirited as she is, she left with the ease of someone shedding an old coat, slipping into the shoes of another, barely a glance over her shoulder.

But houses remember. And as you step out of the vehicle, your feet meeting the rough asphalt that once belonged to your childhood, you wonder if they remember you too.

"Maru, Maru!" Your five-year-old niece cries the moment she spots the grumpy feline peering through the mesh of his portable prison.

"What—no excitement for me too?" you tease, ruffling her hair. She giggles, scrunching up her nose.

"Auntie, hi! Hi!"

You snort at her enthusiasm, setting the carrier down. The second you pull at the zipper, Maru springs out, landing with a soft thud before stalking off with his usual air of disdain. Your niece shrieks with delight.

"Ah! Cat!"

"Well, there go the chances of her socializing with her brother," your sister remarks dryly from the doorway, sauntering closer. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey," you greet, hoisting a handful of paper bags. "Where do I dump these?"

She eyes the bags. "Any of those for me?"

"You have three kids, and one of them insisted on a Lego set. Do you know how much those cost?" You shoot her a flat look. "You’re getting socks."

"Wow, stingy." She huffs but takes some of the bags anyway, hitching one onto her hip as she grabs your other hand-carry.

You step inside, and the house greets you with a riot of lights and color. Plastic tinsel and bright string lights drape across every visible surface—along the bannister, around doorways—leaving no space untouched by the festive chaos. A Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, nearly buried beneath an avalanche of baubles and sentimental ornaments collected over the years.

The room feels swallowed by the exuberance of it all, an almost overwhelming jamboree of holiday cheer.

It’s gaudy, excessive, and completely over-the-top, but beneath it all, the bones of your childhood home remain unchanged—familiar in a way that settles deep in your chest. The Narra wood floors are still scuffed with the marks of time, there’s still the distinct tang of turpentine mixed with waxy resin and citrus you’ve long since associated with home, and the odd decorative masks still line the far wall, their painted expressions frozen in mid-celebration.

Your eyes land on the canvas floater above the mantel—a whimsical cross-stitch of three women flying kites, their stitched dresses rippling in imagined wind. You remember it well, though you never quite understood why your mother had chosen that particular scene to painstakingly sew into existence. Still, it belongs here, another piece of the house's patchwork history.

Your gaze shifts to the couch, where Andrew, your sister's husband, is sprawled out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest, the other holding his phone.

He flicks his gaze up at you, offering a half-hearted wave before turning back to whatever has him so absorbed on the screen. Beside him, your three-year-old nephew is perched on his knees, bouncing with energy as he mirrors Bluey's movements on the TV with exaggerated enthusiasm, his tiny arms flailing in childlike glee.

You sigh inwardly, rolling your eyes. Typical.

“There’s a few more hours before dinner. Want to hang out in the kitchen while I roast the ham?” She asks casually, setting down your bags by the foot of the stairs. “Actually, scratch that—you’re in charge of the punch.”

“You just want a head start on the drinks,” you tease, the banter flowing easily between you. “Hey, where’s the little squirt?”

She points toward the small crib, near the island counter. “She finally stopped crying, thank god. Don’t wake her up, or you’ll be the one in charge of putting her back to sleep.”

The two of you slip into the kitchen, where the air already carries the promise of dinner—cloves and brown sugar blending nicely with the lingering scent of citrus. A tray of ham sits on the counter, prepped and ready, the scored surface glistening under the fluorescent light.

Your sister pulls a bottle of Luisita Oro Rum and Agimat Gin from the second-to-last cupboard and places them on the counter in front of you.

"Go ham," she quips.

You give her a flat look. "You think you’re funny.”

She shrugs, unfazed, and turns her attention back to where she’d left off before your arrival.

The two of you fall into a natural rhythm, the kind that comes from years of cooking together. You work your way through cans of Del Monte, the metallic clinks filling the space as you drain the syrup and dump chunks of mixed fruit into the large punch bowl.

Your sister leans against the counter nearby, arms folded, her gaze fixed on the oven door, as if sheer willpower alone could make the meat cook faster.

In the background, the soft drone of the TV drifts in from the living room, punctuated by your nephew’s occasional giggles.

There’s no rush, no need to fill the silence with anything more than the occasional clang of utensils against glass and the low humming of kitchen appliances. The day is winding down to a close, and for now, everything is alright.

“So, Mom called,” she says casually, one arm braced on the counter as she leans in, glancing at you. “Kept calling, actually.”

“Mm.” You reply noncommittally, shaking the last can’s contents into the crystal bowl, watching as the fruit chunks bob lazily in the pool of alcohol.

“She’s worried about you.”

You don’t answer.

“She was. She is.” Her voice shifts, more serious now. She watches you closely, noting your lack of reaction. “You know that, right?”

Your fingers tighten around the can opener, but you pull your gaze away from the bowl. “I know.”

She sighs, resigned, already familiar with this song and dance. Familiar enough to know there’s no winning this one, not tonight. Not anytime soon. “I am too.”

You blink, before looking away. “Oh.”

And maybe she does worry—your mother. But any hope of truly knowing is swallowed by the chasm between you, the one that keeps your conversations at surface level, never breaching the depths beyond.

Your body, born from hers, perhaps more alike than you realize, might have been brought into this world with the same pains that she’s carried. The pains of separation. The unresolved hurt of being unwillingly removed from your person—her former husband, your father—and that if you and your mother were closer, you could have opened up about your own situation. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel like a ship that has lost its ballast, drifting endlessly in the same turbulent seas for the longest time.

But you are your mother’s daughter, and she is her mother’s daughter. There is the truth that the women in your family are not the best communicators, nor do they wear their hearts on their sleeves. So you were born mute and overly sensitive. Pain drips from you, unnoticed, like a purposeless leak in the heart. You’ll carry it with you until you die.

“But you look… okay,” she observes, cocking her head. “Are you okay?”

You swallow. For the same reason you compare your mother to a storm you can't outrun and your sister to an intermittent drizzle, you find it easier to admit, “I haven’t… been okay for a while.”

Not wanting to bring the mood down, especially on a day like today, you quickly add, “Things are better now, though.”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Could be a little more specific there, but I’ll take it.” She gives you an exasperatedly fond look. “You let me know if that changes anytime soon, ‘kay?”

Your lips quirk in the faintest semblance of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

–

It’s ten minutes before midnight.

You’re leaning against the island counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, nursing a glass of the fruit punch (though it’s mostly gin, with the teensiest amount of fruit), watching your sister’s family at a distance as they eagerly wait for the clock to strike twelve. The blinds of the large living room window have been pulled up, giving an unobstructed view of the sky, ready for the first firework to light up the dark.

For a moment, you feel like an outsider, watching through a lens, as if you’re not quite part of the scene. There’s a strange sense of detachment—voyeuristic, almost—as though you're peering in on a private, intimate moment.

Your sister cradles the infant in her arms, and that all-too-familiar pang stirs to life—the same one that always does when you look at her.

You can't quite place what you're feeling, exactly. It’s tumultuous, and it’s complex. Andrew’s practically dozing off in his seat, and you see your sister shake her head in mild annoyance. Your nephew, fighting to keep his eyes open, starts to fuss.

Something tightens inside your chest.

“Andrew,” she hisses, startling the man awake. He blinks, disoriented, before spotting their son and the early signs of an explosive tantrum.

He sighs, and pulls the boy closer to him. “Hey, hey, little guy. Look at the sky. In just a couple of minutes, the lights are gonna go boom-boom.”

Your nephew sniffs, his eyes blinking up at him as he processes the words. “Boom-boom?”

“Yeah! Just like the one we watched on TV!”

The kid’s face visibly perks up at that, bad mood quickly forgotten. “Boom-boom!”

You watch as your sister’s gaze softens, and a small smile replaces the earlier frown on her face.

And in that instant, you understand.

You look at your sister and, for a brief moment, all you see is a wretched mirror of yourself. She is all of your fears, all of your failures, and all of what you could’ve been rolled into one. Barely in her mid-thirties, and yet already carrying the weight of a family: three kids, a husband who feels like a faded echo of your father—a man who didn’t quite measure up, who never did, and just as unreliable.

You feel the suffocating weight of it all, of being tied to a place that’s meant to be a home but feels more like a tomb, marking the passing of dreams unrealized. She’ll grow old here, buried in the same soil you both sprang from, fading into the landscape of this town that swallows its own.

You look at her and you almost feel the repressed pain of missing the last semester of college to give birth, the lament of a missed opportunity that life has stolen from her.

You feel her pain as if it’s yours. You feel it in the marrow of your bones—her blood flowing through you. “3…” You look at her, and it feels like seeing someone bound, held down by an anchor around her foot, unable to break through the surface of freedom. You look at her and you see dreams once aglow, reduced to cinders. You look at her and see—

She glances up at you.

Oh. “2…” In the fleeting moment where your eyes meet—eyes you two share with your mother—you feel so small.

Just a kid. Shortsighted and unfairly dismissive. Too blind to see your sister’s quiet victories, too selfish to admit you’ve diminished them just so you could feel less alone about your own failures. A child grasping for meaning, unfair in the ways only children can be. “1…” And in the fraction of a second before midnight, it's as if you’ve been doused awake.

You see her anew—what seemed like monotony is really the bedrock of stability; tenacity in place of routine. An almost single-minded doggedness to make something out of this life. You see the steadfast strength she possesses, the kind that gets her up every morning, to face the world and all its demands without question. With purpose.

You see resilience. Compassion. Traits that you’ve always lacked, that you’ve long resented, the same traits your mother never learned to embody.

And now you see your niece in her arms, born from this, and you name the indescribable feeling that dwells in you—borne from the pure look of adoration in your sister’s eyes for her youngest daughter—as envy.

You know, with utmost certainty, that she will be okay, because she has your sister as her mother, and she is so, so loved.

As you watch them, something inside you shifts—a deep, aching realization.

You see… home. Something you've always longed for but never truly found. “Happy new year!” The spell breaks. The two of you startle at the sudden eruption of fireworks, the distant chorus of car horns blaring from the streets outside.

Your niece and nephew jump and shriek, their laughter ringing through the room, celebrating something they barely understand but find joy in anyway. The baby in your sister’s arms lets out a wail at the commotion, and she is soothed instantly with murmurs of soft assurances. Her father struggles upright—then, with no small amount of effort, leans forward to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

The image before you is far from perfect, but it’s theirs.

“Auntie, auntie!” The little rascals cry out in unison, their voices overlapping in excitement. “‘appy n’year!”

A breathless, almost pained laugh escapes you. Still, you smile as you respond with your own, “happy new year!”

You’re tired—tired of running, of measuring yourself against the ghosts of your past. Tired of carrying the weight of a childhood that’s left you with more questions than answers, of making excuses for wounds that should have healed long since. You've spent so much time mourning the growing pains, the irreparable, that you never stopped to see what’s in front of you.

This moment, this realization, feels like the final missing piece in the fractured puzzle of who you are.

The new year arrives, marked by the crackle of fireworks and the loud cheer from your family.

This time, you won’t hesitate. You’ll choose to embrace the change, both good and bad, with open arms. With the quiet resolve of someone finally ready to move forward.

You lift your gaze just as a brilliant burst of red explodes into the night sky, its iridescent glow bleeding into a softer silver before fading into the dark.

A warmth settles deep in your chest—bittersweet, but steady. A quiet peace.

Happy new year, my love. . . . . . . .

. . .

The air at the threshold of Vagrant’s land is restless. Volatile. A hazy distortion ripples through it, folding and unfolding, like a lost mirage—an area of transition between worlds. Porch collapse, he calls it.

Sylus has stood here countless times, watching the way this anomalous disturbance twists the very fabric of this reality, how it flickers in and out of form, erratic. Impossible to predict.

It had taken him longer than he likes to admit to understand the phenomena for what it’s truly worth. Not just an alternate space caused by some spartan energy field. Not just any other protofield. But a thread. A connection. A door.

A fault line between realities, an entryway that hums with the possibility of you.

Since the moment the idea took hold, he had thought of little else. It has consumed him in every waking moment; his entire being seeming to bend toward a singular purpose—getting to you. He had torn through endless streams of data, followed every unstable pulse of energy, mapped its fluctuations down to the smallest inconsistency.

Nights bled into days, and days bled into weeks, until he can no longer keep track. Not that the passage of time meant much to him at this point.

He’s worked tirelessly through the stillness, through the storms of uncertainty, through the aching silence left by your absence. Ever since you’ve exchanged your temporary goodbyes.

He had measured everything he could—the unstable frequency of radio signals streaming through the interstice. He had traced the influx in real time; recording the rate of deterioration, isolating the waveform, and filtering out outside interferences.

But for all the data he gathered, for all the precision in his calculations, the core of this phenomenon remained just out of reach. His knowledge on the matter is rudimentary at most. He could waste years observing for abnormalities, trying to decipher how its presence has disrupted the very threads of this universe, but the why and how of it all will still elude him.

Still, theory matters less than function. He doesn’t need to understand the full depth of it. He only needs to harness it.

It’s a gamble.

Contrary to whatever reputation he’s earned for himself, Sylus has never been one to play his cards recklessly. He deals in certainties, in probabilities stacked in his favor, in risks that—while dangerous—are still within his grasp to control. He has never been the type to leap without knowing where he’d land.

But this is different.

He has never needed to, before. Never had a reason to throw himself into the unknown with no assurance of survival, no way to predict the outcome.

He had no reason to—until you.

Now, it matters less whether or not the odds of his survival are abysmal, that he has no precedent to follow. That your world might reject him entirely. None of it matters. Because if the choice is between staying and never reaching you, or plunging into the great, endless unknown—

He’ll take the leap, every time. Without hesitation.

He’ll leave this world behind, step beyond the edges of everything that has ever defined him, and venture into lands unseen, uncharted. Unknown. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side. If he’ll make it there in one piece. If he will make it there at all.

Sylus has never really questioned why he’s the anomaly in this world. The curiosities of his existence are yours to ponder. After all, he finds that he doesn’t care much of the answer as much as he cares about being with you.

Because wherever you are—that is home.

He takes a step forward, and the universe dissolves into a blinding light.

Sylus wakes to the sensation of weight.

Something presses on him heavily, sinking into his limbs like gravity itself is wrapping around him for the first time.

The ground beneath him is unfamiliar, uneven—tangible in a way he’s never felt before. His fingertips press into the damp earth, leaving the faintest imprint, yielding beneath his touch. The scent of soil rises around him; a rich, bitter brown.

This world does not recognize him, yet it cradles him like its own all the same.

Above, the sky erupts.

Fireworks split open the night, streaks of color exploding and dissipating in an instant—too fleeting to hold, too bright to ignore. A flashbang of incandescent reds and fluorescent greens, followed by bursts of crackling gold and shimmering silver scatter into tiny pinpricks before fading into the darkness.

The air is heavier here, denser in a way that feels almost… alien. It clings to the contours of his new form, seeps into his lungs with every breath.

And oh, how it burns. Not in pain, but in its sheer presence. It rushes into him not as mere oxygen but as something real. Something palpable. He’s lost in the sensation.

He exhales. Then winces.

Immediately, he feels it—the weakness. The brittleness of this new body. Gone is the invulnerability he once wielded so effortlessly, the certainty that nothing could touch him unless he allowed it.

That certainty is gone now, stripped away the moment he crossed the threshold.

He is flesh and bone. Finite. Mortal.

A lesser man might have feared it.

But in the middle of this empty field, miles away from civilization, Sylus can only laugh.

He tips his head back, reeling from the sheer impossibility of it all, eyes tracing the brilliant display above—as if committing it to memory, a coronation of sorts. Of existence. Of arrival. Of a life finally his own.

Reborn. And for the first time in his existence, he is alive.

––––

It’s summer—the summer that marks two years since he left.

Two years. It’s enough time to feel the weight of it, but not enough to make the events feel like something that happened a lifetime ago.

The seasons cycle once more, as they always do, pushing time forward with a steady, indifferent rhythm. And with that change comes a familiar pang—a bittersweet ache, neither grief nor regret, just the weight of knowing that nothing stays the same. Mono no aware.

You’re closer to thirty now, and the thought doesn’t terrify you as much as it did before. Your hair’s in a pixie cut—short and sleek, although the edges are a little ragged from the half-assed trimming you gave it a few days ago.

It would have made you feel stupid, once upon a time, for trying out something drastic for a new look. Instead, you just take it for what it is—one more thing you did because you wanted to. Like the rest of the choices you’ve made over the past two years. It’s yours. Uneven, impulsive, maybe a little questionable. But yours.

It’s liberating. Even if it makes your head look like a pencil.

The voice—the one that picks at your face, your body, your thoughts, everything down to the last imperfection—never really shuts up. It’s quieter now, easier to ignore, but it still lurks in the background, waiting for an opening, a moment of weakness. Maybe it always will. Maybe that’s just the price of being human.

But you don’t fight it anymore. You don’t let it drag you down to a breaking point. You carry yourself differently now, you'd say. No pep in your step just yet, but you don’t feel the need to drag your heels either. Literally and figuratively.

The change has come in waves—sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh—but it’s there, marking you, marking the passage of time. Just like the earth, just like the seasons, you’ve shifted and grown. And perhaps that’s enough.

The sky is ablaze now, a deepening canvas of pinks and purples as the sun sinks lazily to the west. The fiery orange light spills through the large windows, bleeding into every corner of the room, and the world outside seems to slow, caught in the hour before dusk.

You’re behind the counter, wiping down plates with the kind of ease that comes from repetition, the motion so ingrained in you that it barely registers anymore. It’s all routine—the rhythm of it, the quiet hum of the bistro, the clinking of porcelain. The air is thick with the sticky smell of warm pastries, and it’s the sort of evening that feels almost liminal. A moment suspended in time.

You hear the soft tinkling of the door chimes, signaling the arrival of another customer.

It’s a soft, unassuming sound, barely noticeable against the evening lull. You swipe your hands across your apron, turning on instinct, your mouth already forming the usual greeting.

“Hi, welcome to—”

The words die in your throat.

It’s a slow unfolding—almost a gradual realization that stretches across the seconds like the last rays of sun dipping beneath the horizon. He stands in the doorway, a figure outlined in gold, and his presence fills the space between you, no barrier that separates, and it feels... impossible. Unimaginable. Inevitable.

His height is the first thing you notice. He’s taller than you expected, and you know he’ll tower over you, even at a distance. His hair is dark now, the color of midnight, almost—not the silver you once traced with your fingers in your mind. The cut is still similar to what you’ve always known it to be, though a little more unkempt, as if he’s lived in this body long enough for it to take on its own wear.

Then his eyes. The red is gone—no longer the shade of crimson that used to see right through you, those sanguine pools you once loved. In its place, a stormy grey, deep and impossibly expressive, pulling you in like an undertow. The color is striking, alien in its own way, yet there’s a warmth buried beneath it—and the familiarity of it tugs at you.

Even with the changes, even though you’ve never met the person standing in front of you, you’ll know him anywhere.

There’s a shift in the room, a subtle, yet unmistakable change in the air. It’s as if the whole bistro has drawn in a breath—and you with it. Time stretches thin, each passing second expanding into what feels like an eternity.

Your eyes lock—and for a moment, nothing else exists.

It’s as if the world has shifted off its axis. Or, perhaps more accurately, it’s as though a piece that’s always been missing has finally snapped into place.

Something settles in you, something foreign and indescribably familiar at the same time.

Sylus smiles.

“Hello, my love. Have I kept you waiting?”

It feels like home.

____

“Now I found myself this kind of love, I can't believe it I'll never leave it behind I thought I'd never get to feel another fucking feeling But I feel— This love, this love, this love Oh, I feel it.”

End A/N: So this is done! Wow! I'm kind of proud of myself for writing something this long in the span of, idk, three months? Basically, the entire duration of my "vacation" back home. Now with another term and a busier schedule coming up, I really wanted to finish this series before life catches up to me. *sobs* Anyway, I'm so, so happy about the reception of this fic, and you've all been so sweet :') Again, thank you for reading! I'll see you in the spin-off, or whatever shit I put out next haha <3 Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #sylus x non mc reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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solxamber · 7 months ago

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How to Handle Your Diva || Vil Schoenheit

You’re the unofficial Vil Schoenheit handler, a role you assumed when you started dating him. Whether it’s calming his temper or redirecting his wrath, you’ve become the only one capable of keeping poor midguided souls from biting the dust.

aka the 7 times you save someone from getting poisoned or worse.

Instance 1: Chaos Duo

The serene backdrop of NRC’s gardens frames Vil Schoenheit like a painting come to life. Dressed in flowing silks and adorned with the perfect balance of sunlight and shadow, he’s mid-pose when—

“Yo, Vil! Say cheese!”

Ace and Deuce leap into the frame, pulling the most exaggerated faces imaginable. Deuce’s eyes are practically crossed, and Ace looks like he’s mid-sneeze. The photographer audibly chokes on his spit.

Vil freezes. The air goes cold. The birds stop singing. Somewhere in the distance, a withering rose drops a petal.

“What,” Vil says, so quiet it’s terrifying, “was that?”

“It was Ace’s idea!” Deuce blurts immediately, shoving Ace under the metaphorical bus.

“Thanks a lot, traitor!” Ace snaps back.

Vil’s eyes narrow. “You,” he hisses, voice dripping with venom, “have the audacity to ruin my shoot?”

By the time you arrive, the photographer is hiding behind a bush, and Ace and Deuce are sweating under Vil’s glare. The two freshmen look like they’re seconds away from turning into frogs—or corpses.

“Vil, sweetie,” you interrupt, stepping between them and the storm cloud forming above his head, “what’s going on?”

“These plebeians,” Vil says, gesturing at Ace and Deuce like they’re bacteria under a microscope, “thought it would be funny to sabotage my art!”

“They’re idiots,” you agree, shooting the freshmen a glare. “But let’s think about this. What if... this makes your shoot even better?”

Vil arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “Better?”

“Yeah!” you say, channeling all your persuasive powers. “When people see this, they’ll notice how your beauty shines even in the presence of—” you gesture vaguely at Ace and Deuce, “—mediocrity.”

“Mediocrity?” Ace repeats indignantly.

“Shut up,” you snap before turning back to Vil. “Think about it. They’ll see your grace, your poise, and how you completely outshine everyone around you. It’s contrast, Vil. Art loves contrast.”

Vil strokes his chin, considering. “You may have a point...”

“Totally! And, like, who would take them seriously anyway? Look at Deuce’s face. He looks like a confused pigeon.”

“Hey!” Deuce protests, but Ace is already nodding.

“Yeah, yeah! Vil, this just makes you look even cooler! Like, people will see this and be like, ‘Wow, he’s untouchable, even next to these losers.’”

Vil finally exhales, his wrath ebbing. “Very well,” he says, smoothing his silks. “I’ll allow it. But only because the juxtaposition highlights my perfection.”

Ace and Deuce sag in relief, clearly missing the word “juxtaposition.”

Later, Trey finds you in the hallway. “I heard what happened,” he says, looking both exasperated and grateful. “Thank you for stopping Vil from poisoning them. Again.”

You shrug. “All in a day’s work.”

Instance 2: Just Leona.

The group is gathered in the cafeteria, the usual buzz of conversation swirling around. Vil sits at the head of the table, eating his meticulously prepared salad—a work of art with perfect symmetry, vibrant greens, and an edible flower garnish.

Leona slouches in his chair nearby, tearing into a steak with all the grace of a feral lion. He pauses mid-bite, glances at Vil's plate, and snorts loud enough to turn heads.

"What's that, Schoenheit? Rabbit food?"

The air grows thick. Vil’s fork stops mid-air, his gaze snapping to Leona like a hawk spotting prey. "Excuse me?" he says, in that icy tone that sends chills down spines.

Leona smirks, undeterred. "You heard me. All those leaves and petals—looks like something I’d feed to the herbivores back home."

There’s a collective oh no from everyone nearby. Jack visibly stiffens, eyes darting between the two like he’s watching a live-action disaster. You’re pretty sure Grim just whispered, “This is gonna be good,” from somewhere behind you.

"It’s called maintaining one’s figure," Vil snaps, placing his fork down with calculated grace. “You wouldn’t understand, considering your diet seems to consist entirely of undercooked meat and mediocrity.”

Leona leans back, looking as smug as a cat in a sunbeam. “At least I eat like a king. Meanwhile, you’re over there grazing like the royal gardener.”

The tension escalates. Vil’s hand twitches toward his fork, and you’re suddenly very sure he’s planning to plant it somewhere deeply unfortunate on Leona.

Time to intervene.

“Vil,” you cut in smoothly, leaning closer to him, “can I just say, you look amazing today? Honestly, I don’t think anyone else could pull off a salad with such elegance.”

Vil blinks, momentarily startled, before his lips curve into a faintly smug smile. “Well,” he says, primly dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, “I do have a certain flair for refinement. It’s not something just anyone can achieve.”

“No, it’s not,” you say firmly, throwing Leona a warning glance. “And anyone who doesn’t see that is clearly just... jealous.”

Leona snorts again but doesn’t push further, clearly uninterested in escalating now that Vil’s focus is on being praised rather than plotting homicide.

Jack gives you a subtle, grateful nod, visibly relieved that he won’t have to referee another dorm-versus-dorm war.

As Vil returns to his salad with renewed dignity, you sit back with a sigh, silently adding prevented cafeteria murder to your list of daily accomplishments.

Instance 3: Theatre Club Madness

It starts, as all things do, with Floyd and his unique brand of chaos. This time, it’s a priceless antique vase from Pomefiore’s lounge that met its tragic end because Floyd “wanted to see if it could fly.”

Spoiler: it couldn’t.

Vil, who witnessed the entire ordeal, was seconds away from summoning a storm of consequences when Floyd, in a rare flash of survival instinct, promised to repay the debt.

“I’ll help with your little drama thing,” Floyd had said with a grin too wide to trust.

That promise didn’t even make it a full day.

By the time Azul appears in Ramshackle, wringing his hands, you already know something’s gone terribly wrong.

“Vil asked Floyd to star in some action scenes for his theater production,” Azul says, clearly on edge. “But Floyd... Well, he’s Floyd.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess. He skipped?”

“Skipped, vanished, and laughed about it,” Azul confirms. “Vil is furious. I fear he might—”

“Poison the Lounge’s water?” you finish for him.

Azul nods gravely.

Which is how you find yourself in Pomefiore’s theater, holding a script titled The Tragic Tale of Honor and Glory and wearing an outfit that feels heavier than your life choices.

Vil sits in the audience, arms crossed, as you nervously adjust the overly ornate shoulder pads. “Darling, I adore you,” he says smoothly, “but if you ruin my vision, we will have words.”

“Right,” you mutter. “No pressure or anything.”

Rook, of course, is thrilled. “What a magnifique turn of events! A real-life romance brought to life on stage!” he says, twirling a prop sword before handing it to you.

You glance at the script and immediately regret every decision that’s led you here. Floyd’s role isn’t just action-heavy—it’s absurd. You’re supposed to fend off imaginary enemies, deliver heartfelt speeches, and somehow “leap gracefully” across a prop chasm.

“Are we sure this isn’t a punishment?” you whisper to Rook.

“Every great artist suffers for their craft!” he replies, as unhinged as ever.

Rehearsals are... an experience. Vil critiques your sword stance, your dramatic pauses, and even the way you hold the fake shield. “You’re not a barbarian,” he snaps at one point. “This is a knightly role. Show some dignity!”

The only thing keeping you sane is the occasional glimpse of Vil’s smile when you nail a scene. He’s still your Vil—meticulous, demanding, and, beneath it all, proud of you.

By the end of the day, you’re exhausted, but no one’s been poisoned, and Vil is satisfied.

“Darling,” he says as you collapse into a chair, “you might just be a natural.”

You groan in response, but secretly, you’re glad. If starring in a play keeps the peace and earns you a proud smile from your perfectionist boyfriend, it’s worth every ridiculous leap and over-the-top speech.

You're not letting Floyd off the hook though, he now owes you a blood debt.

Instance 4: Runway Disaster

It happens in slow motion. Kalim, with his usual sunshine energy, bounds over to greet Vil during a fitting for his latest custom runway outfit. In one hand, he holds a crystal goblet of bright red juice.

“Kalim, no—” Jamil tries to intervene, but he’s too late.

One excited gesture later, the goblet tilts. The juice spills. And Vil’s pristine white couture ensemble is suddenly dyed a tragic, splotchy crimson.

For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Kalim freezes, his smile faltering as Vil’s expression shifts from shock to something that resembles a villainous Disney queen summoning her final form.

“Oh no,” Jamil mutters, stepping back like a man who knows better than to get involved in an impending disaster.

Vil’s fingers twitch, and actual poison gas starts to swirl faintly around him.

“You…” he begins, voice deadly calm, eyes narrowed at Kalim, who looks like he’s considering whether running or apologizing is the better survival tactic.

Before Vil can unleash his fury (or toxins), you jump in, grabbing his arm like a brave but foolish hero.

“Wait! Think of the headlines,” you blurt. “The great Vil Schoenheit doesn’t panic when disaster strikes. He innovates. He adapts. He turns accidents into opportunities!”

Vil pauses, glancing at you with an arched brow. “Go on.”

“This isn’t a catastrophe—it’s a creative challenge,” you say, channeling your best salesperson energy. “You can redesign the outfit on the fly, show off your genius in real time, and prove why you’re the best.”

Jamil, who’s still lurking near the door, lets out a faint groan. “Don’t drag me into this—”

“Perfect!” you cut him off, pointing dramatically. “Jamil, help us. You’re good with details. Kalim, you’re... great at handing over fabric?”

“I am?” Kalim perks up, always happy to help, even when he’s the source of the problem.

Vil exhales sharply but lowers his hands, the faint poison clouds dissipating. He turns to you, his lips twitching upward in something resembling reluctant approval. “At least someone here recognizes talent when they see it.”

Half an hour later, Jamil is threading needles with the speed of a man who just wants this ordeal to end, Kalim is cheerfully sorting through fabric swatches, and Vil is in full designer mode, issuing commands and adjusting details.

You’re stuck holding a pin cushion and occasionally offering words of encouragement, but hey, no one’s been poisoned, and Vil’s outfit is somehow looking even better than before.

When it’s finished, Vil studies the revamped ensemble with a critical eye, then turns to you.

“Not bad,” he says, which, coming from Vil, is practically a standing ovation.

Kalim beams. “This was fun! Let’s spill juice more often!”

Jamil groans audibly, and Vil rolls his eyes, muttering something about how his brilliance is wasted on “uncultured chaos.” But when he glances at you, there’s a soft glimmer of gratitude.

Maybe you won’t have to stop a literal poison attack every day, but you’re definitely earning your stripes as the official Vil Schoenheit Disaster Manager™.

Instance 5: Epel, why?

Epel’s first mistake is thinking he can sneak a greasy burger into the Pomefiore lounge. His second mistake is sitting right in front of Vil to eat it.

The moment Vil spots the offensive food item, his entire posture stiffens. Slowly, he sets down the teacup he was holding, a faint air of menace radiating from him.

“Epel,” Vil says, voice dangerously calm, “are you seriously eating... that in my presence?”

Epel freezes mid-bite, the burger hovering inches from his mouth. “Uh, I mean... it’s just a quick snack—”

“It’s processed garbage,” Vil snaps, his tone sharp enough to cut diamonds. “Do you even know what’s in it? Chemicals, preservatives, and enough grease to clog your arteries by the time you’re twenty-five!”

You can almost see the poison aura starting to swirl, and your instincts kick in. There’s only one way to de-escalate this. Compliments. Lots of them.

“You know, Vil,” you interject brightly, sidling closer to him, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how absolutely flawless your skin looks today. Did you do something different? A new serum, maybe?”

Vil blinks, momentarily thrown off. “I did switch to a more concentrated vitamin C serum this morning.”

“Wow,” you gush, “it’s really working. You’re practically glowing! Honestly, you look like you just stepped off the cover of a magazine.”

Vil preens slightly, his focus shifting from Epel to himself. Epel catches your subtle hand signal—Run, you fool, run while you still can!—and starts to edge toward the door, burger clutched tightly in his hands.

Rook, who has been lurking silently nearby as usual, suddenly claps his hands together, eyes sparkling. “Ah, mon cher ami, how touching! Such devotion, such cleverness, to save our dear Epel from the wrath of Monsieur Vil! Truly, a love as radiant as the sun itself!”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, then at you, clearly aware of what you’ve just pulled. For a second, you think he might ignore your distraction entirely and summon some ancient Pomefiore curse to turn Epel into a cautionary tale.

But then he sighs and shakes his head. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, though there’s a faint, reluctant smile on his lips.

Later, as Rook waxes poetic about your “unwavering dedication,” Vil leans in close and murmurs, “I hope you know that if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have let this slide.”

“I know,” you say, grinning.

“And you owe me a handmade, organic, non-processed dinner tonight,” he adds, though his tone is more affectionate than demanding.

Fair enough. You’ve just saved Epel from doom and earned yourself a little more of Vil’s soft spot in the process. Not a bad trade-off.

Instance 6: Housewarden meeting

It all starts when Idia mutters the fatal words under his breath at the housewarden meeting.

“Skincare’s just a corporate scam for gullible people, anyway.”

The air goes still. A deathly quiet spreads across the room, save for the faint thump of a pen dropping somewhere in the background. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Vil, who has frozen mid-reading. Slowly, methodically, Vil sets the paper down with the poise of a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Excuse me?” Vil’s voice is icy, his gaze locking onto Idia with the precision of a predator that has just spotted its prey.

Idia, realizing his monumental mistake, turns pale. His flaming hair flickers nervously. “Uh—uh—wait, no, I didn’t mean—uh, you know, for other people, not you! Definitely not you, You’re obviously an exception—uh, outlier—uh—uhhhhh...”

You can see it in Vil’s eyes: hexes. Hexes upon hexes. Idia’s social credit is about to go into the negatives, and it’s up to you to stop this trainwreck before it derails completely.

“Vil, darling,” you say quickly, sliding up beside him and placing a calming hand on his arm, “why waste your brilliance on people who clearly don’t understand skincare? They’re the ones missing out. Why not show them how effective it really is instead?”

Vil’s brow raises, his attention turning to you. “Show them?”

You nod earnestly. “Absolutely. A real-world demonstration. I’ll be your model. You can prove to the entire campus how flawless your methods are by working your magic on me.”

Idia, still rooted to his chair, looks at you with wide, desperate eyes, mouthing, Thank you, oh my god.

Vil considers this for a moment, the dangerous glint in his eyes dimming slightly. “Hm. That does have potential. It’s true that nothing speaks louder than results...” He narrows his gaze at you. “But don’t think this will be easy. You’re going to follow my instructions exactly.”

“Of course,” you say, internally praying you don’t end up with a ten-step skincare routine involving rare herbs and unicorn tears.

Three hours later, you’re sitting in Vil’s dorm room with half your face slathered in a gold-infused sheet mask, while he critiques the lighting for your before-and-after photos. Idia has not only escaped with his life but is actively hiding in Ignihyde, no doubt sobbing into his console for letting this happen.

The next morning, Ortho drops off a neatly wrapped package with a note:

"Thank you for keeping Big Brother from turning into a toad. This is our thank you. Please use it wisely. - Ortho"

Inside is a supply of snacks that Vil would never allow, soda and a very generous gift card.

At least your skin has never looked better

Instance 7: Fashion Show Debate

It happens during the final stages of Vil’s meticulously planned fashion show rehearsal in Pomefiore’s grand hall. The decorators are frantically running around, while Vil oversees every detail with the precision of a hawk. It’s flawless—until Sebek’s voice booms through the air like a thunderclap.

“FASHION IS A POINTLESS PURSUIT WHEN COMPARED TO THE NOBLE ART OF SWORDSMANSHIP!”

Every head swivels toward Sebek, who stands tall, arms crossed, utterly convinced of his own wisdom. He continues, undeterred by the growing silence. “Who cares what you wear when you’re on the battlefield?! True strength lies not in silks and satins, but in the heart of a warrior!”

Vil freezes mid-step, his clipboard trembling in his hand. Slowly, he turns, and you swear you see the faintest shimmer of poison green pooling in his eyes. His glare could cut through steel.

“Excuse me?” Vil says, each syllable sharp and measured.

Sebek, being Sebek, barrels on, entirely oblivious to the danger he’s wading into. “Clothing is irrelevant when facing an opponent of true skill! A warrior’s resolve is their most valuable armor!”

Lilia, lounging nearby, starts wheezing with laughter, clearly finding the whole ordeal the height of entertainment. “Oh, this is delightful. Do go on, Sebek!”

You, however, sense disaster brewing. The tension in Vil’s jaw could snap diamonds, and Sebek’s volume seems to be increasing with every word. If this isn’t diffused soon, you’re going to witness Sebek walking the runway in a cursed tutu and heels.

Thinking quickly, you stride over to Sebek and place a firm hand over his mouth. “Sebek, remember the gargoyle incident?” you say in a low voice.

Sebek freezes, his face going pale. You lean in closer for effect.

“You know,” you continue casually, “the time you spent twenty minutes praising a gargoyle in the castle courtyard because you thought it was Malleus in the dark? Magnificent presence were your exact words, I believe?”

Sebek’s eyes widen in pure panic.

“When you finally realized your mistake,” you add, voice dripping with mock sympathy, “you begged me to swear on my life that I wouldn’t tell Malleus. Do you think he’d laugh? I think he’d laugh.”

Sebek emits a muffled noise beneath your hand, his entire posture deflating. He waves his arms frantically in surrender. You let go, and he turns stiffly to Vil, bowing his head. “My apologies. I spoke out of turn.”

Vil raises a perfectly arched eyebrow but seems satisfied with the reluctant apology. “As you should be. Now, be silent, or I’ll personally ensure you end in heels forever.”

Crisis averted, you glance at Lilia, who gives you an approving wink. Sebek, meanwhile, retreats to the shadows, muttering under his breath about unfair tactics and treacherous secrets.

As the models resume their walk, Vil brushes past you with a quiet, “Good work, darling. Though I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have minded seeing him in heels.”

It’s one of those rare, quiet evenings where the world outside seems to hum in stillness. You’re sprawled on the bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, savoring the precious downtime. The soft creak of the floorboards is your only warning before Vil’s hands are gently pulling you into his arms.

Startled, you set your phone aside and look up at him. “What’s up?”

Vil doesn’t answer immediately. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms encircling you as if shielding you from the entire universe. His expression is unusually soft, his gaze tracing over your features like he’s memorizing every detail.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says at last, his voice quieter than you’re used to. “You do so much for me. More than I deserve sometimes.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What are you talking about? You deserve the world, Vil.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips, but there’s something vulnerable in the way he looks away for a moment. “I know I’m... a little demanding.”

You snort, which earns you a mock glare. “Okay, fine, maybe a little more than a little." You laugh “But it’s not like I mind.”

“You should. Most people would,” he counters, but his tone is softer now, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve been working so hard to keep up with me, to make me happy, even when I’m being a diva.”

That makes you laugh, and the sound seems to melt the last of his hesitation. You cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly against his flawless skin. “Vil, it’s not hard work. It’s a labor of love.”

His eyes widen just a fraction, and then his smile blooms—gentle, radiant, and so genuinely Vil. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs, but the affection in his voice betrays him.

“And yet you love me anyway,” you quip, grinning.

Vil huffs a laugh, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you into a proper embrace. “Hopelessly.”

You stay like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the world outside forgotten. It’s just you and Vil, caught in a moment that feels like love personified—sweet, steady, and infinite.

(this is kinda a spiritual successor to the how to tame your dragon malleus fic)

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit #vil

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swampjawn · 4 months ago

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If you wanted to animate an object spinning really fast, there are three main embellishments at your disposal. You could add smear frames, you could add doubling, or if you wanted to get a little crazy with it, you could have that object bend and stretch to really emphasize the inertia of the motion.

Or you could do all three at the same time!

I didn't want to like Zenshu at first.

Saying I'm not a big fan of isekai as a genre would be an understatement, so I was straight up peeved when I found out that what I initially thought would be a flawed industry's unflinching look in the mirror made by THE studio that has become the symbol of the Japanese animation industry's broader problems with overworking and underpaying, this was just gonna be yet another in a long line of paint-by-numbers escapist power fantasies in a genre that was tired from the moment it was born, just like yaboy, sleepy to the max if you know what I'm saying.

And this recreation of a scene from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), (which was one of the first breakout roles for anime legend and Evangelion director Hideaki Anno) certainly helped soften my attitude towards it, but a series of references to old stuff wouldn't be enough.

(both versions trimmed here)

But its tribute to classic anime and animation in general goes beyond just references.

This absurdly over the top modernized version of a magical girl transformation animated by Keisuke Toyoda (豊田桂祐 ) feels like it contains all the possibilities of animation and imagination in just 3 preposterously dense cuts. There is just WAY too much going on here at once, in a way that feels very self aware.

Every color you could imagine, lighting from three different directions, what looks like three different layers of effects and sparkles, countless compositing effects, what looks like some sort of 3D particle simulation in the background,

this psychedelic background art that seems to represent Natsuko's blood vessels, a bit where you can see what it took me several episodes to realize are Natsuko's actual blood vessels and skeleton through her body,

and… some birds of course.

Most of the main elements are animated on 2's, but there are so many layers -- the timing of each offset from the rest -- that it almost feels like the whole thing is animated on 1's because there is practically no single frame where at least something doesn't change.

It's really an assault to the senses that contrasts hilariously with the mundane action of actually sitting down at a desk and drawing. There's even a little death note reference thrown in there to poke fun at this contrast!

And fully committing to the sailor moon bit, they repeat this stock animation in almost every episode. While it's no masterpiece plot-wise, it is at least more than I expected on that front too, but that's more than I can get into here. I talk about that some more and a bunch of other stuff in this video, from which this post is an adapted excerpt! Go watch it and comment, "wow sWIMP John, I used to like your videos but you've really fallen off hardcore. Go back to making magic school bus AMVs. Unsubbed."

#anime #animation analysis #video #youtube #mini essay #zenshu #gif warning #gif

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meanbossart · 3 months ago

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Hi, I've enjoyed your art for almost a year now but now I'm curious as to how you come up with what you want to draw. I've been struggling with coming away from using references, especially when drawing people lately and was wondering how you could do it.

Hello!

If you mean how do I come up with the poses, I will usually "doodle" my way into them and fix things along the way to better match whatever it is I'm seeing in my head. I think the secret is really not overthinking your very first draft - get it out as quickly and messily as possible so you can better access what you want the final pose to actually good like.

Here are some examples of my first pass vs final art:

Sometimes something only takes 1-2 sketches before I start lining and sometimes the sketch process is a convoluted mess with more layers than the final render, either way I ALWAYS change things up to some extent, either through redrawing, re-scaling/moving things around, or even messing with the liquify tool.

As for how I actually come up with the scenes themselves in the first place, I'd be negligent to not mention the several hundred comic pages I've drawn throughout the course of my career 😅 it's a muscle that's been exercised nonstop for over a decade and hence a non-issue for me at this point. Between art, film, and every-day human interaction I've developed a great love for human expression - the meaning behind posture, hand-gestures, micro-expressions, minute word-choices - that definitely wasn't there when I first started drawing as a teenager, but that I picked up on throughout my life.

I think getting into film is especially good for learning how to frame a scene. If you have trouble coming up with them at all, try becoming the type of movie nerd that says things like "wow, this composition!" in the middle of movie-night, or someone who knows what a "dutch angle" is. I can't tell you how to do that, unfortunately. Maybe you can watch Inland Empire and ask yourself "why the fuck did David do that" every 3 minutes? We all have a movie nerd in us, we just gotta find the movie that pisses us off enough to find them 😔

#ask #advice #tutorial

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boobertronian · 6 months ago

Text

Calisthenics - Part 2

Karina x 1 Trainer

Continuation of Karina's chapter

Proofread by @vorrentis

Word counts : 9446 words

All works are fiction

ENJOY !!

A few weeks went by

Karina, sitting in the corner of her bed, texting quietly after finishing reading her books

stupidcheesecat: "Hey blazar! It’s been a bit! How are you?"

blazartheultra: "Oh .. Hi Karina, how are you doing ? Isn’t it quite late?"

stupidcheesecat: "Yes a bit than my usual routine so before I really hit the bed, just wanna check you out! It’s been a while since our “practices “ hehe~ “

blazartheultra: "Oh yeh … I alway think you’re busy so I wouldn’t dare to text you … well, I'm actually surprised you texted me. How are things with aespa?"

stupidcheesecat: "Well after that week, we went back to our schedules like usual, busy all days and weeks, attended some fan signs in Japan and China, etc. And I'm preparing for a new performance too in collaboration with other idols so yeh pretty busy !! Hbu? You’re doing something cool?"

blazartheultra: "Yes, I'm wrapping up some of my personal projects, still looking for some art jobs, still around with the private studio part time, things are quite mellowed these days for me, had to attend some weddings but other than that I'm …ok I guess ? I just want to have some break times that’s all “

stupidcheesecat: "Oh cooll !!! Yessss me and the girls need our breaks too … we worked hard this year … so many things to attend… I need some chill time, been reading some books! And heyy show me what you’re working on!"

Blazar then sends Karina some screenshots of his works, making Karina shock.

stupidcheesecat: "Omg! How do you do it ???? You’re always surprised me !! So cool !!"

blazartheultra: "Thanks Karina.. anyway.. uh … is it ok if I get back to my work ? I'm gonna try to finish this and take my real break. I’ll … see you soon Karina, thanks for … checking up on me."

stupidcheesecat: "No problemo !! I'm heading to sleep too !! Hopefully we’ll have more time to chat after my performance! Hope you’ll like it !! G9!"

blazartheultra: "G9 Karina”

Blazar, talking to himself: "That was … odd, why she even chatted to me in all of the sudden … and what does she mean by have more time to chat… I thought … idols don’t do random chat with fans …?? Oh well, not that I'm gonna see her face to face again anyway”

Another few weeks pass by, after Karina performed the "Killer” collab with Yujin

Yujin: "Unnie we did it yeyyyyy !! We’re literally KILLERS!" Karina: "Yes we are Yujin !! We were looking hot !!! The fan chants were crazyyy!!”

Yujin: "I have a feeling our fans gonna go wild seeing us in theses outfits and the choreos hehe~, but Unnie you’re looking too hot in that!"

Karina (blushed): "You tooooo !!! Yujin your body is crazy hot I might fall for you hehe~”

Yujin (blushed): "OMG Unnie ~~! But seriously Unnie you’re looking too good now, you have any tips for working out or diet ?? I think I need some from SM’s golden girl hehe~”

Karina: "Oh nooo nothing too fancy !! I'm just simply working out regularly with Air Yoga and such, my diet is quite messy too ~~. But I’ve been into Calisthenics lately, it helped me a lot with workouts!"

Yujin: "Oh wow, I heard about that one! I saw some youtube clips about it! But I’ve never done it though, seems quite hard! I did some pilates, rope skipping and some sports but never that one, how was it for you Unnie?"

Karina: "It was GREAT, wayyy better than I thought even though it was quite hard for someone who’s quite on the athletic side like me! But I had a great trainer and I really enjoyed my SESSION with him last time ~~”

Yujin: "Oh wow you got a trainer! seems like you had a great time with it! It’s good though right ? Did you do it regularly?"

Karina: "Not really though, but I incorporated some to my home workout hehe~. But I do plan to do it VERY regularly with my trainer~~. Beside, when I did it with him, I had some PRIVATE SESSION with him and it boosted me up a lot hehe~”

Yujin: "Oh cool! But.. isn’t it already private if you do one on one ? What other private session you did?"

Karina: "Well, it’s quite a secret, but I like you and … I can share you some details hehe~ “

Yujin: "Oooohhhh secrets !!! Sure unnie, we can talk about it hehe~, let’s go to some other places we can chat hehe~ “

Karina & Yujin go to their changing rooms, they both settle on the sofa just to rest with some drinks

Yujin: "So Unnie, I'm excited! what did you do with your trainer to get your KILLER body like this, what sort of tips that he gave you?"

Karina: "Well, promise me you won’t tell anyone ok Yujin? "Wink

Yujin: "Your secrets are protected with me!"

Karina: "Well, he did gave me some actual good tips in terms of my forms, the way I work out, especially since Calisthenics is more on bodyweight, and how to protect my joints, which is something I feel like idols like us should be aware of more! Once I started to notice those details more I felt better! and also .. one more reason hehe~”

Yujin: "Oooh, that’s cool! I think I should be aware of my body while working out too! And the other reason is?"

Karina: "The other reason is … we HAD SEX hehe~ ~~”

Yujin, eyes widen, covers her mouth: "Whattttttt ?? unnie you did what ??? you had sex … with your trainer ??? omg… How did you do it ??? Now I'm really curious about this!"

Karina: "Well, I… actually read nsfw stories about us Idols online, especially Tumblr and Wattpad, thanks to Giselle lol. But since then I have had a fantasy of having sex with a trainer like that. Honestly, it was quite risky but somehow my daring mind just did it, and … lucky for me, it happened with that trainer over that day ~~. I think I was lucky nobody was there that time too hehe~, and he was .. BLAZING HOT ~~”

Yujin: "Woaa, now this is interesting, but unnie, like, how did you … like you know, let him had sex with you ? Did he … approach you first?”

Karina: "I .. actually teased him a lot during the session. I think you know calisthenics they do Push-ups & pull ups right ? well, while he was guiding me how to do thoses, I .. intentionally made it spicier with my boobs hehe~. And I noticed he checked up on me too, so I just kept teasing him until … we both gave in to our lust ~~”

Yujin: "Oh wow. Unnie you’re … very daring, I guess it was … blazing hot and exciting too like you said huh ? I’ve never thought of you would do this tbh “

Karina: "You should’ve seen him that day ~~ He was super hot and super strong!! He has a nickname from a character called Ultraman Blazar, and true to his name he really was an ultraman ~~ If you see those guys on youtube did those handstand push ups or tricks on the pull up bars, he could do it too !! And .. best of all, sorry if I’ll use profanities with you Yujin, but he …. Fucked me for so many rounds hehe~… everywhere on me… all over that calisthenics studio ~~”

Yujin: "OMG, woaaa, Unnie, you’re.. wow.. I can’t believe, omg unnie … this must’ve been the wildest secrets I’ve ever heard from anyone I'm close to, and I couldn’t believe it’s from you unnie! Ok, sorry if I ask you this, are you.. planning to do more sessions with him for … the sex?"

Karina: "Well, first of all I'm actually into calisthenics honestly, since I wanted to improve my physique ~~, been staying away from strength training a bit too long. And … yessss, the sex was tooo good I couldn’t ignore it ~~ I’ve never felt that orgasm before, and can you believe he .. fucked me in so many ways and … all my holes too hehe~, I even let him fucked me onto the pull up bars and the benches, it was too good I couldn’t stop him and myself!"

Yujin: "Well I believe you now Unnie hehe~. Omg this is one hell of a secret, you are wayyy more interesting than I always thought you are unnie, I .. actually feel kinda excited hearing from you hehe~”

Karina: "I even let him have my nude pics & clips after he cum on me & in me ~~ I look good in thoses too hehe~he."

Yujin: "LOL OMG Unnie !!! I do not prepare for this news from you, let alone your sex stories, but wow I do not prepare for this at all! I have a feeling you’re gonna mett that trainer … a lot more aren’t you unnie?"

Karina: "I will ~~ And I think he’ll love it for sure hehe~ “

Yujin: "Well unnie, I don’t think anyone can resist you hehe~, even I can’t resist you haha”

Karina: "LOL, anyway Yujin, please keep this a secret from me ok ? please ? I don’t wanna get into another dating scandal….. and I'm being very very careful with this one so I trust you ~~”

Yujin: "Oh yess Unnie, I can be sure I’ll keep this for myself for sure, you’re too pretty and you do not deserve any private leaks at all, so again your secrets are safe with me !! but anyway, I think I’ll have to go! The girls are waiting for me at our dorms!"

Karina: "Me too ~~ Thanks yujin, thanks for the collab and .. letting me share my secrets ~~”

Yujin: "No probs Unnie !! Love you !! See ya soon !! We should do more collabs & tiktok challenges !!!!”

Karina: "See you soon my dear sweet Puppy ~~”

Yujin: "You too my stupidcheesecat ~~”

Karina then goes back to the dorm and rests a bit, suddenly she sees a notification

blazartheultra: "That performance was great Karina, congrats … uh … hopefully you’ll see this message..”

stupidcheesecat: "Heyyyyyy Blazar! Can’t believe you texted me first! And thanks! It was a blast! Did I look good ? Did I do well ? What do you think?"

blazartheultra: "Yes you did, like in all your stages you’re always put your best, that’s for sure. You & Yujin … you two looked really pretty “

stupidcheesecat: "Thanks again blazar ~~! Anyway … I'm just wondering… you wanna meet again ? Are you going somewhere? We should … meet up a bit! How about I pass by to the studio again ? I wanna go for another workout!"

blazartheultra:: "Oh … the studio is closing for holidays Karina and I'm taking my breaks too so I won’t be there for the following weeks … sorry ..”

stupidcheesecat: "Oh … that’s unfortunate :sadicon: but .. how about at .. your place ?? Would you be ok if we meet up ? I wanna see your art stuffs!"

blazartheultra: "Uh …. Karina .. is it … ok to do that … like … last time was … you know… quite risky for you don’t you think ? Aren’t you … afraid of being caught?"

stupidcheesecat: "I think your place is pretty quiet, like … last time I was there I was running straight to it but nothing made headlines, unlike that time with my ex … but it’s been weeks since then and I haven’t seen anything, beside, your place is right on the opposite right ? I … can be quite sneaky these days!"

blazartheultra: "Uh …. Karina … well … I mean … I guess I can’t deny you then … but I'm still scared about media and such you know?"

stupidcheesecat: "It’s ok Blazar! I .. learned some experiences since that time so I'm very careful, you have my words! So … should we meet same day same time like last time ? I'm excited!”

blazartheultra: "… well … if you’re insisted of coming .. guess I can’t stop you then … ok, I hope you won’t find my place looks a bit less lavish and …. A bit weird”

stupidcheesecat: "Oh don’t worry !!! Our dorms aren’t exactly the lavish type either! So I’ll see you then!"

blazartheultra: "See you ..” Blazar, talking to himself again: "Oh fuck she’s coming here, shit, better clean up before she thinks I'm this weird hillbilly or a scary hermit ..”

A few days later

Giselle: "Yooo Jimin !! You’re going somewhere??? You don’t want to watch Squid Game with us?"

Ningning: "Yehhhhh !! I heard it’s great !!! Jimin unnie where are you gojng?"

Karina: "Sorry girls! I wanna go for a sightseeing yayy, a friend gave me this place I wanna see a bit today, you know, to get some fresh airrrrr!”

Giselle: "Uh …. Ok Jimin, but it’s snowy outside, more like cold air lol “

Karina: "Omg Aeri-chan, I just wanna see the place!! Won’t you let me go ? (Karina pouts and starts doing aegyo)

Giselle: "Ok ok please don’t …. Just gooooo Jimin, I don’t wanna see those cringy stuffs …. “

Ningning: "Hahahaah yehhhhhh Jimin -unnie, but have funnnnn, take pics of the place for us!"

Winter: "please take care and don’t catch a cold unnie !! Dress warm please!"

Karina: "Byeee girls !!! I’ll see you soon!"

Karina then dresses up, with big snow coat covering her entire body, some masks, and not to mention, secretly hiding a sunglasses so nobody knows who she is outside.

After 30min, Karina arrives at Blazar’s place

Stupidcheesecat: "I'm downstairs! Which floor are you?"

Blazartheultra: "Oh .. i’ll go pick you up .. wait for me a bit.”

Blazar: "Shit, she’s coming, better not acting like an idiotic fan”

Karina, seeing Blazar coming down to pick her up, starts waving her hands in excitement, but Blazar gives her signs to no communicating until they both quietly go to his apartment, since he has to cover himself too. They both quietly walking to his place, albeit in quick steps, finally reaching his place.

Once they finally got in, they both panting

Karina: "whew … that was close.. hopefully nobody sees us hehe~~~”

Blazar: "Yehhhhh … hopefully, but anyway, you can put your coat here, and voila here’s my place …”

Blazar then walks her through his apartment, it’s a small comfy place, with a small bedroom, next to it is a desktop system for his works, and a tall glass shelves for action figures display, making Karina, out of curious, taking her phone out to take some pics in full excitement, also asking Blazar to show her the figures, much to his surprises.

Outside in the small living room is a small setup for home gym, including some free weights, a pair of gym ring dangling from a pull up bar stand, and some parallettes.

Karina even asks him to show her how he normally works out with the home gym tools, with Blazar goes from doing normal ring push-ups as he does it like it’s second nature to him.

Moving onto ring L-sit, ring muscle-up and some new moves he learned from the past few days, Blazar is seen swinging around the rings and pull-up bars like he’s flying and balancing like Spider-Man. He does it effortlessly without much tiredness, as if the sport is basically his way of showing his superpower.

His stable movements combine with sheer strength and stamina are making Karina super excited, but also … super horny. She’s staring at him on each move without a blink.

Karina keeps on watching him doing the exercises, clapping her tiny palms in pure excitement. Her eyes brighten up, and she bites her lips a bit seeing Blazar stretches his muscles after the movements, thinking to herself: “Omg, even in his normal attires I can tell how hot he is and how pumped his muscles are ~~ I think I’ll have even more fun today than last time with him hehe”

Karina: "Wow you have everything! Kinda similar to the studio but for your own! That’s nice! No wonder you’re so buff, alway working out!"

Blazar: "Yeh, I like it that way, can’t sit on the desk all day right ? Hurt your lower back for sure “

Karina: "Yessss, me too, I'm glad my job doesn’t make me sit too much but accidents can happen to our lower back any day, I wouldn’t mind if you have any exercises idea for it~~”

Blazar: "Well, I do have thoses, but … Karina, why do you have to … you know, come all the way here, I can just send you pics of my works, why do you have to be risky?"

Karina: "Welllllll, I don’t wanna keep chatting on the phone all day and also, it’s great getting out! You … think I … bother you ..? “

Blazar: "Ohhh no no, I just feel like it’s quite risky for you, you know, you’re like SM golden girl.”

Karina: "Well, just think that it’s better to meet and chat outside! That’s all! Beside I really want to see your works UP close!"

Blazar: "Ok Karina.., whatever you say then ..”

Blazar then walks her to his bedroom, then the starts pulling out his works, some design from his previous jobs, some of his personal designs, some old school works.

Karina: "Woaaaaaa!!! Sooo cool !!! I seriously can’t believe this is what you do for real! It’s amazing!"

Blazar: "Thanks Karina, I'm doing my best, I think my works are ok, not the best out there for sure, maybe that’s why I couldn’t find much good projects … most of the time I worked with projects that are quite problematic, rushed deadlines or lack of directions from clients, low pay and such, etc. sometimes I wonder if I'm cut to be a concept designer…”

Karina: "Hey .. don’t beat yourself too bad, I know it’s a tough year … I can’t imagine what you’re been through but … I'm very positive you will find something, that’s how I always think in life, be positive! I'm sorry I couldn’t help you more but … I'm willing to hear! Beside you should walk me through what you’re designing because I love it!"

Blazar (lighten up from his moody self a bit ): "Sure! Well … hopefully you don’t find me being too nerd ..”

Karina: "Nerd away !! I would love to hear!"

Blazar: "So, I got inspired from Star Wars, and a French artist I like name Moebius, he has some cool illustrations that I try to mimicking the mood of his works, also some others like Syd Mead or John Berkey, they did some old school sci-fi designs!”

Blazar pulls the references to his screen, showing Karina the old artists’ works: there are some spaceships in retro-scifi style, some surreal illustrations, and also, some retro vehicle designs from the 70s and 80s.

Karina: "Oh woa … theses are … different… I’ve never seen them for sure but …. So cool you pay tributes to them! It’s like how we idols do covers of our sunbaenim songs!"

Blazar: "You can think of it like that, but I only use them as inspirations, the rest are all my own works, so I like it more, more creative room for myself without copying them too much “

Karina: "I see! Well… sorry my knowledges about art isn’t much … beside music and dancing … and anime manga … but it’s so cool to know something new!"

Blazar: "I actually got inspired also by Ghibli movies! like Howl’s moving castle, Castle in the sky, and Nausicaa valley of the wind, I think you know those movies?"

Karina: "I know about castle in the sky! Giselle showed us last time and we watched it together! Do you mind keep walking me through your stuffs ??”

Blazar: "Sure Karina!" Blazar then let Karina sits on his chair, while he himself is standing but crouching to use his mouse and operating with the tablet.

As he has to move closer due to a quite difficult position, he can somewhat smell Karina’s perfume close to him.

For the first time since this evening, Blazar starts noticing Karina’s beautiful visual, with dark straight hair instead of wavy red wine like last time, adorned with slightly thin hair bangs, and she’s wearing a white top, with black leather jacket, dark color shorts and leggings, just like walking a fashion show, making Blazar’s heart racing UP the chart.

Blazar then tries his best to look away from her a bit, but, with the position he’s standing, it’s hard to avoid, making the situation quite awkward, at least for Blazar.

Unbeknown to Blazar, Karina, with her quick wit, already noticed Blazar keeps on checking on her, pretending to not knowing, but thinking: "oooh, he’s checking on me again hehe~, sure, I intended to dress like this anyway, but of course he’ll check on me whatever I wear, just like last time ~~”

Suddenly, Karina turns her head fast to Blazar and: "Boo !! Gotcha !!!”

Blazar suddenly slips, shocked by Karina’s sudden shout, trips onto the chair legs and falls to his butt, and his head bangs to the side of the door a bit: "Ouch!"

Karina, worried a bit, but can’t stop laughing while covering her mouth: "Omg … you’re ok Blazar ??? (Laughing a bit) I didn’t mean to make you slip like that (laughing)

Blazar: "Yikes Karina .. that was surprising.. ouch .. what was that for anyway ??”

Karina: "Well I just feel like the atmosphere is a bit serious so I just want to lighten things up !! But I'm sorry you fell harder than I thought!"

Blazar: "It’s ok Karina… I have a habit of dramatic drop like that so … this ain’t the first time, but seriously why did you do that though … and I don’t think it’s all about lighten up the mood ??”

Karina (giggles): "Well, part of it was to lighten up the mood yes, but there’s … another reason hehe~. Don’t you think, it’s kinda obvious… that I know you’re checking up on me ? (Giggles)”

Blazar (oh fuck): "Well … I … “

Karina (giggles ): "Sooooo … what did you look at ?? I'm curious hehe~”

Blazar: "Well .. uh … your hair … your beautiful face … “

Karina: "Not my big boobs or sexy legs?”

Blazar: "Uh … welll ..”

Karina: "You’re a liar !!! Hehe~! Just like last time you couldn’t stop staring at my tits! But I forgive you, they’re big anyway (giggles). But … do you like how I dress today?"

Blazar: "Yes … like always… you’re very pretty Karina .! I … kept looking at you this whole time we’re chatting … and my eyes couldn’t look anywhere else … you’re very pretty today ..!”

Karina (giggles even more): "Well then, do you want .. to take a closer look again?”

Suddenly, Karina while sitting on chair, pulling herself towards Blazar, who stills sitting flat on the floor, raises one of her leg and pointing her feet to his face, says it out: "I think you know what to do next (giggles).”

Blazar, gently holds onto Karina’s leg, massage it a bit along her calf and tiny foot.

Then, he starts kissing her dorsum, slowly moving his lips onto her tibia, and finally his head is resting and kissing on her thighs, making Karina feels tickled.

But Karina doesn’t let him stop there, she then lowers down and tells him: "Sit on the chair, I want you there."

As Blazar moves himself to the chair, Karina shares a kiss with him, then using her fingers to gently push him down, while she straddles onto his thighs.

The two keep sharing intimate kisses with each other for some times, with Blazar passionately moving his lips from Karina’s lips to her neck, making her breathing in and out each time.

Karina then starts taking off her jacket, throwing it down the floor like nothing, and then, slowly removes her white top, revealing her white bra underneath. She keeps on going, unclamp her bras, letting her big tits loose and jiggle a bit.

Blazar, without a doubt, dives right into them, sucking and groping both tits with his hands and lips moving from left to right, mumbling out: "Your tits are so good Karina, your nipples are so soft and they look beautiful, I love them so much “

Karina: "I know you’ll love them, but thank you hehe~”

In a quick moment, Karina then gets herself off, kneeling down to Blazar’s crotch. In one move, she strips his boxers off, as his dick pops right up, straight to the ceiling like a canon, making Karina giggles

Karina: "You’re always so hard for me ? Am I turning you on that much hehe~”

Blazar: "Yes, you’re always do Karina!"

Karina then uses her palm, starts stroking onto his big dick, with her fingers moving up and down his length, touching his tip whom leaks with precum, teasing him even more.

Not wanting any delays, she starts taking his dick to her sexy lips, using her tongue to lick it, then put his entire length to her mouth.

She moves up and down in long strokes, putting his entire staff to the deepest part of her throat, then pulling out for a moment to tell Blazar: "Take some pics of me doing it, record some clips to, I want you and me both have this “

Blazar, clumsily grabs onto his phone, does his best to take a good angle of Karina down below, blowing him crazy, with her actions making his arms a bit shaky than usual.

Karina, seeing blazar’s pointing the phone camera, gives him a bright smile, one hand holding his dick, the other hand gives him a V sign, even trying to do some cute expressions while resuming sucking his dick out.

She then pauses a bit and look to blazar, preparing to tell him an idea she learned from her smut readings.

Karina: "We haven't try this last time, so, you wanna give it a go?"

Blazar: "What... do you have in mind .. ? “

Karina, pulls out from her mouth, grabbing her big tits and wraps them around his dick, smiling a bit towards Blazar, then starts moving up & down, making his moans turns up in volume, while still having both his hands hold on tight to the phone.

Karina, moving slowly at first to get used to the rhythm, picks up the pace faster while teasing Blazar: "It's my first time trying this, I hope you like it hehe~, do my big tits feel good around your dick?"

Blazar: "Yess Karina .. it feels good... having your big tits around mine, I.. don't know how much I can hold on ... it feels so good!"

Karina: "Hold it for me a bit ok ? I want you to have a blast!"

With that, Karina squeezes her tits even tighter, making the frictions between his dick even more tight and sensitive, with her eyes keep staring at the camera lens, still holding up her beautiful smile.

Blazar, on the other hand, feels like this is an endurance training, holding himself as much as he can, sweats start to form even more on his body, enjoying both the view and the sensation of having his idol bias tit fuck him in quick motions.

Looking at Karina's beautiful face and cute expressions surely is a big challenge now.

With his climax reaching, having reach the peak of his limit, Blazar blurts out: "Karina... I'm .. I'm gonna cum ... It feels so good ... I'm ... I'm gonna really cum now ... "

Karina: "Then cum for me! Cover my tits! Give me a huge blast! Do it! I know you want to!"

And with that, Blazar cums loudly in between Karina's tits, spurts of white cum flowing out from his dick, making a mess in between her rack.

When Karina moves back a bit, a pile of white semen forms around her boobies, with Karina takes her fingers to scoop them up to her mouth: “Mhmmm, your cum always tastes good, you really into your diet huh hehe~ "

Blazar: "Yeh .. I .. I'm pretty strict with it ..."

Karina, doesn't want anything goes to waste, cleans up blazar's dick off his cum, not without telling him to take some shots of her posing cutely with cum covered tits, or when she's cleaning him up.

Karina then talks to Blazar in softer tone: "I hope this is not the end of this, because ... I want more hehe~. I want you to take me, have me all you want, just like last time, in anywhere or any way you want with me, would you .. do that favor for me ? ~~“

Blazar: "Seeing you like this Karina, I don't think I can stop myself anymore."

Karina giggles, then quickly rises up to her feet, unzips her shorts, removing it and put it to a side, leaving her only with her leggings and her panties.

With a swift move, she pulls the leggings off to her feet, keeps on teasing Blazar while turning her back towards him, bends down halfway and strips off the rest of her clothing, using her hands to smoothly run through her thighs, to her hamstrings, finally grabs her curvy butt cheeks and slaps them a bit.

Karina then turns back to Blazar, asking him: "Are you satisfied with what you see Blazar ? because this will be yours today, and enjoy it as much as you can~~”

All of a sudden, Blazar, recovers from his previous session, quickly stands up and removes the rest of his attires, leaving the two fully naked and looking at each other.

Without any hesitations, Blazar then reaches to Karina's waist, pulls her to his directions and starts kissing her, as Karina returns his affections the same way he does.

For a moment, the two of them passionately sharing their kisses, while their hands move all over each other bodies, standing there bare naked without a care in the world.

Blazar, gently guides Karina to his bed, putting her on all four on top of it, with her head points towards the top part, hands resting onto his pillows.

He then dives into her tight pussy, eating her out in her tight walls, tasting her sweet juices, making Karina breathing in & out like she's doing an exercise.

He then moves on to her tiny asshole, licking the outside of it, with Karina suddenly jolt her body slightly.

Lastly, he's kissing her along the sexy curve of her back line, moving from her lower back, running his lips towards her neck, whispering in her left ear: "Karina, you're too hot & too sexy, I want you, right here on my bed, I ... I wanna really fuck you now, I don't want to stop myself anymore!"

Karina, gasping from his words, turning her head back to his and says the words: "Then, by all means Blazar, fuck me! Fuck your idol good and hard! Like captain america said, I can do this all day !! So FUCK ME! IN ALL YOUR MIGHT! FUCK ME!"

Blazar, getting ready his dick back to action, lining his big shaft to her pussy, pushing it through her tight walls, feeling them wrapping around his the more he enters.

As he pushes inside the deepest part of her vagina, Blazar then starts moving his hip slowly, but Karina says it out to him: "No! I told you, go hard on me! Please, I want it REALLY HARD!"

Like a switch to his inner command, Blazar, holding his hands tight her hips, ramming Karina back side as hard as he can, with Karina moans out beautifully along with his movements, while her hands grab tightly into his pillows.

The sounds of himself slamming back and forth to her buttcheeks are getting louder than before, to the point can be heard from outside his bedroom.

Karina, with her mouth open, tits moving back and forth freely, pussy being ravaged from behind, thinking in her head while moaning out: "Omg .. yess, just like what he did to me over the bench, but … even harder! Yess, I want him to fuck me hard like this !! Oh fuckk !! I … I think I might get addicted to this!"

Blazar, reaching his hand to his phone, resuming the POV filming and taking pics, just as Karina requested.

He then gently push her entire body flat to the bed surface, with Karina’s face dives straight to his pillow, while Blazar starts to prone bone her, even harder than before, doing his best to capture and record the entire scenery.

Blazar, in all his breathing, asking Karina: "How do you like it Karina ? Do you like me fucking you like this ?? While you’re lying flat on my bed ?? While I'm fucking you hard like you want it ? And how I'm filming myself fucking you from behind? I can’t stop doing it! I just wanna keep fucking you because it feels so good! I love this so much!"

Karina, mumbling to the pillow, manages to get some words out loud, panting hard: "Are you kidding ? I'm fucking love this !! Being fucked like this … while you’re filming me … I … I can’t stop loving it !! You fuck me so good .. I can’t think of anything anymore !! Fuck meee !! Fuck me harder!"

Blazar, continues his motions, treating it like a hard workout and fuck Karina with all his forces, letting Karina screaming into his pillow so loud with all her volumes, making her curvy butts reddened quite a bit for the impacts.

Blazar, sensing his climax again, saying out to Karina: "Karina .. I'm close .. I'm gonna cum again … fuckk … I'm gonna cum real sooon!" Karina: "Do it !! Cum for me !! Anywhere you want !!! Give me your big load !!! Give it all to me !!!!”

As a result, Blazar, pulls out from her tight walls, shooting his cum all over her sexy back, huge drops of cum splatter all over her curvy spine, making a huge mess. Karina, feels too good from it, squirts herself onto his bed, wetting the area around her vagina.

Turning off the camera, Blazar then lying himself fast right next to her, panting out, but not forgetting to kiss Karina on her cheekbone.

The two lying there for a while, panting hard, full of sweats all over their bodies, resting themselves from the "Workout” they just did moments ago.

Karina, does her best to scoot herself towards Blazar, kisses him a bit and then resting her head onto his chest, talks it out while panting slightly: "You’re… amazing, do you know that ? I'm sorry … that I made a mess … on your bed … but it was fucking good … I couldn’t stop myself … I … just felt so good ..”

Blazar: "Don’t be Karina .. I … I made a mess on you too … you’re too hot … and too pretty … I … I couldn’t control myself too …. I … just love it too much ..”

Blazar then takes his phone, opens up the photos and clips for both of them to see, with Karina giggles while watching it, pointing out: "You know, Winter said I have a beautiful back hehe~, as with many people, well, I guess you “ decorated “ it even better now (giggles). I might use it as my new Bubble profile hehe~”

Blazar: "You .. are one hell of a person Karina …”

Karina: "Hehe~ I know, they don’t call me Stupidcheesecat for no reason, now, how about we get outside, I have something to show you!"

Karina then moves her body out of the bed, with Blazar quickly follows her.

Karina stands up to her feet, fixing her hair whom a bit messy, some dangling on her face, with her makeups are being smeared a bit thanks to the sweats, but nonetheless still look pretty as always.

She then holds onto Blazar hands, walking him out the room, with her body wave is making beautiful curves along the way, her curvy butt cheeks jiggle slightly along with her tits.

As they both walk out of the room, Blazar then walks to the kitchen, giving both glasses of water, with the two pretending to cheer up like drinking soju. As Karina finishes her water, she then reaches to her Prada bag on the table, pulling out a small object.

At first Blazar couldn’t tell what it is, until Karina cutely places it on her palm, showing it to him like a small child showing a gift to her parents: "I think you know what this is right Blazar ? (Giggles)”

Inside her tiny palms, an object being wrapped in plastic paper, with a silhouette looks strangely familiar and … erotic.

As Karina gives sign for Blazar to remove the paper wraps, to his surprise, it’s a tiny butt plug, with the size of his palm, in her fav color blue.

At the bottom of it, there’s also an image of a cute tiny sea creature with a heart engraved on it, as Blazar suddenly remembers that’s her fav animal, the Mosasaurus and her representative symbol.

Blazar: "Uh … Karina … where did you get this?"

Karina: "You like it ?? It’s so cute !! I ordered it from a sex shop and asked them to customized it, see that tiny mosasaurus ?? A bit pricier than the usual thing but I love it!"

Blazar: "Yehhhh … but .. uh … why are you showing me this ? Don’t tell me …”

Karina: "I bought it for this situation hehe~, and of course silly, I want YOU to use it on ME! Now here’s what I want you to help me on, l want you .. to put it … in my ass, while you fuck me hard with me having it in my ass, do anything you want with me, as long as that tiny plug stays in my ass, will you … help me out ? (Giggles)”

Blazar, still couldn’t fathom what he just heard, asking out: "You … really want me .. to do that?"

Karina: "Wellllll, I wanna SPICE IT UP, UP a bit for our "Workouts” today, don’t you think we should try something new ? (Giggles) it’ll be fun~~”

Blazar: "Well, ain’t no one stopping you now Karina, not even I can do anything but follow you then “

Karina: "Yayyyy! Let’s do it! I'm excited to take the lead this time! There’s some small lube in my bag too, let’s go!"

Karina then heads towards the flat wall next to the bedroom, facing straight to it while poking her butt out, bending herself slightly.

Blazar, getting the motions, even though he’s still surprised by Karina’s eagerness, holding the plug in his hand, covers it with some lube, then walks towards Karina, who’s arching her entire body sexily at the wall, with the most inviting look on her face, ready to go.

Blazar then kneels down in one knee, slowly entering Karina’s ass while holding the plus tightly in his fingers, pushing it in as much as he can, making Karina gasping and breaths in and out with the entrance.

Even though she already had some anal experiences with him, this new feeling stills surprises her every bit of it, having her tightest hole stretching out by the bulgy shape of the plug.

After a few short seconds, with the plug finally rested inside her anus, Karina then forms out some words while still breathing in and out: "Oh gosh, holy shit, it’s… big … inside me… this … is surely new for sure!"

Blazar: "Uh … Karina, you … want me to pull it out ? You seems uncomfortable..”

Karina: "No !! I like it !! Maybe a bit uncomfortable but I want it there! Now come here and do whatever you want with me in my other hole, I'm waiting hehe~”

Karina then turns her back lying onto the wall, with Blazar then holding on to one of her leg, letting it wraps around his waist, while her other leg tiptoes on the ground.

Blazar does his best to support her by bending his knees, then in the process, lining his entire shaft slowly into her pussy entrance, making Karina gasps loudly when he pumps in and out of hers.

The two then again shares their passionate kisses, keeping that position for an amount of time, until Blazar, having an idea of his own, holds his breath for a few second, lifts Karina off the ground to a carry position, with both his muscular arms lifting her legs up, while keep pounding into her nonstop.

Karina, both surprised by the position but nonetheless feeling so horny, moaning into Blazar’s ears while wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, looking straight to his eyes and says it out loud: "Ohhhh my goshshhhh !!! Fuckk … it’s so good … fuckk … you … you make me … feel so good … this position… oh no … I will cum … if you keep doing this … fuckk … I'm gonna cum … all over … “

Blazar: "Yeh Karina ? Then do it … show me … how much you want me … to fuck you like this … show me how you cum … with my dick inside you … while you’re having … that toy … in your ass ..”

Karina: "Fuckk …. I love it … no … I'm addicted to it … holy shit… I'm gonna … I'm gonna cum … oh my god Blazar I'm gona cummmmmm “

Karina, with no delays from her words, squirts out harshly onto Blazar’s thighs, making a good damp onto the ground below, tilt her head backward while reaching her own climax, moaning her lungs out.

As Blazar finally tired out from the position, he then lowers himself down to the floor, with Karina still holds on tight to him while panting hard, resting her neck to his left shoulder.

Blazar, a bit drained from the position, lying flat to the ground, letting Karina mounts on top of him, her big tits mashed onto his chest.

Both still breathing hard from the impactful movements that felt like roller coaster rides.

Karina, thinking while regaining her energy: "Oh my … he’s .. he’s strong … I couldn’t… I couldn’t even imagine he has that much in him … today is gonna be long … for sure."

While Karina is still busy collecting her thoughts and stamina, she feels a sudden movement down below, making her yelp out softly, but quickly turns into harsher moans as Blazar goes on pumping her without any notice.

Karina, feeling his dick ramming her tightness, crying out loud while staring straight into his eyes, hands pinning down to the floor: "OMG… fuckkk… do it HARDER !!!... FUCK MEE BLAZAR!"

Blazar doesn’t let his hands empty, as he immediately grabs onto her bouncy tits, groping them tightly while using his fingers to play around with her hardened pink nipples, once in a while pulling his face to those mounds, leaving Karina full of pleasures.

The forces from his pumps are quite powerful, with his lower body sometimes hits the butt plug, making Karina jolts her body a bit with the second entrance to her body.

The experience of fucking Karina, with both of her tight holes are being filled at the same time, sweaty bodies clashing to each other with full capacities, is enough to make Blazar comes close to another climax.

He then moves his hands onto her slim shoulders, moving her now messy dark hair away, then ask her a question she’s dying to hear: "Karina… I'm … close to cum again … you want me to ..”

Karina, in a messy state, cuts of his words: "Cum in me .. yes .. please … I want it there … cum and fill me .. I want it all!"

Without a doubt, Blazar, tighten his muscles, with one last pump, cum straight into Karina deep walls, feeling her tightness wrapping hard on his dick, as she cum as well.

Even better, Karina’s ass simultaneously squeezes around the plug, as she curves her body up in a powerful but utterly beautiful movement, head tilts, mouth opens and panting hard, while her big tits proudly heaving up & down due to the orgasm.

Afterwards, the two naked people just lying there, relaxing their entire bodies, with Karina just stays on top of Blazar’s muscular body, both fall into a deep rest.

For a few minutes later, Blazar starts to open his eyes, waking up from his small rest, seeing Karina still lying on top of him, head rests onto his chest, looking beautiful even in her after fucked state, with her hair still covers her face a bit, and the rest onto her shoulders.

Blazar then gently tap onto her, waking her up: "Hey there, you feel ok?"

Karina, still lazily waking up from her rest: "Yeh … I'm good Blazar, you … were so good. Did you like it?"

Blazar: "Of course Karina, it was great, especially with you”

Karina (giggles): "You’re sweet hehe~, but I forgot to tell you to record it (pout), but no matter, the next one, is gonna be even better to capture hehe~”

Karina, gives Blazar a kiss to his forehead, starts standing up slowly, slightly loosing balance a bit, removing herself for his big dick, leaving his cum leaking out into a thick white stream running onto her inner thighs, as Karina compliments: "I love how much you gave me, you always fill me whole, I just love it every time your cum leaking out from my holes

Blazar, hearing her sweet voice, also trying to raise his entire body up to his feet, and with a quick move, he grabs and slightly slaps onto her butt cheeks, making Karina yelp with a cute expression on her face, with the two keep teasing each other bodies for a bit.

Karina, holds into Blazar’s hand again, walks him to the pull up bars, flips her hair a long the way like she’s on a catwalk, smiling all the way through.

She stops at the gym ring hanging over the bar, then slowly bending herself over, both hands hold onto the two gym rings, raise her butt up a bit where Blazar can clearly see her plug somehow still deep inside her anus, moving in and out slightly to her breathing;

Karina, does not let Blazar wait any moment long, speaks out to him, turns her

head slightly: "remove that plug for me, then, you know what to do next hehe~”

Blazar: "How much you want it this time Karina?"

Karina: "Good question hehe~, well, I guess as hard as you can give me then hehe~, I want you to FUCK my ass as deep as you can, as powerful as you can, treat it like the hardest workout you wanna do with me, FUCK Me, fuck your idol’s asshole until you flood me!"

Blazar: "Then, I hope you’ll be prepared for it”

Karina: "Oh, I will, like I said, I can do this all day hehe~”

Blazar, with careful hands, remove the plug away from Karina ass, making gasp a bit due to the motion, leaving her hole gaping beautifully.

Not feeling like waiting, he then pushes his length, replacing the plug into her still gaping hole.

Karina, feeling a penetrating sensation she hasn’t have for a while, moans out with every inch entering her, thinking in her head: "Omg … holy fuck … I miss this … his entire dick inside my ass… oh fuckk … it’s… stretching me out so wide… even better than the plug … fuckk … I feel like … he could just tear me out … but … I want it … I want his dick in my ass … Blazar.. please … fuck me!”

Blazar, like he can read her minds, moving himself in and out without any slow buildup, without any hesitation, just as Karina always wanted.

Karina, doing her best to hold on to the gym rings, tiptoe onto both his feet, letting having easier access to her hole.

Blazar, doesn’t forget his "Mission”, grabs his phone and record the lewd act, filming his entire shaft running in and out of SM’s golden girl, while she’s moaning onto the gym rings, butt up, tits jiggling harshly.

The sight of seeing one of Kpop most popular girl idol being dicked down in her ass, while being recorded every second is like a fever dream to him.

Blazar, reaching his body to Karina’s back, with one hand groping her large tits, while the other hand still holds onto the phone, asking out: "You like it Karina? Having my dick deep inside your ass ?? You like having your trainer fuck you this hard in your holes ?? You like that I can cum to any holes of yours in any way I want?"

Karina, suddenly shouting out: "YES !! oh my god … YESS !! I like it .. no .. I LOVE IT! I love having my holes fucked hardly by my muscular trainer!!! I … I just want your dick in me … any holes you want !! Any time you want !! Even … in my dancing !! I .. just want to be fucked by your dick !!! FUCK ME MORE !!! I WANT IT!"

Blazar: "I'm gonna really cum in your ass again Karina! I'm gonna fill you with my cum!"

Karina: "FUCK ME TO THAT NEXT LEVEL !!!! MAKES MY DREAMS COME TRUE !!! GIVE ME THAT ARMAGEDDON!!! FUCK ME TO THAT SUPERNOVA !!!!!!”

And so, Blazar, like an Ultraman gathers his full power, ramming hard strokes inside Karina’s ass, fucking her to near oblivion, making Karina scream out the most erotic scream he could hear the entire day.

Her warm hole, like adding more power to his giant dick, wrapping onto it so tight that Blazar can feel her inner muscle gripping onto him.

Karina, hands reddened by holding her grips onto the gym ring, letting herself go by squirting hard to the floor, while Blazar, hitting his climax, prepares for a huge cum deep inside her: "I'm cummingg .. arhh!"

And with that, his cum shoots violently into her ass, so much that it makes everything even hotter inside, feeling his cum spurting out like a fountain.

Blazar, kissing on Karina sweaty back, while herself struggling to stay balance, bending her knees a bit, panting hash and loud, hands starts loosen her grips from the rings.

As Blazar starts to pull out, a huge amount of cum, flowing out from her reddened asshole, drips down to the floor below, as Karina suddenly drops down to her face, ass up face down, making the scene even more erotic.

Her fair skin is now having some hand prints from Blazar, while her butt raises up high, dripping with cum from both hole, her face breathing hard to the floor, all while being recorded by Blazar.

Letting Karina rest a bit in her lewd position, Blazar then helps her to stand up, still struggling for her balance letting her lean onto the table a bit to catch her breath, while he pulls out the training mat and lays it flat on the floor.

He then turns into Karina, still somewhat struggles to hold herself up onto the table, gives her a deep kiss and whisper to her: "Karina, one more time, please, I want to have you there, right on that mat, just like how we did last time, but, I wanna try something a bit different too, shall we?"

Karina, panting slowly, face reddened but her horniness returns: "Yes … oh please yes … do anything you want with my body … I'm pretty much yours to take now … anything you want … i’ll follow … take me one last time .. please “

Blazar: "Yes, but don’t want you to get hurt and uncomfortable on this one, so here, lye yourself sideways to the mat, and we’ll start “

Karina (thinking): "Even when he wants to fuck my head out he’s still sweet, that’s so cute~~”

Blazar then guides Karina down to the mat, laying on her side, one leg raises up a bit, while he himself lays behind her, gives her a peck on her cheek, then entering himself into her ass once again, but unlike last time, this time he does it more gently, passionately kissing her while doing it, with one of his hand caressing her tits.

Karina, can’t hold to her emotions, saying out: "Blazar… this .. this is so … this is so nice… having you … fucking my ass again … like this … I … want it to go as long .. as you can … is it ok?"

Blazar, still kissing her: "Yes, Karina, anything you want” Blazar picks up his paces a bit, not too harsh, not too gentle, but more controlled and with passive rhythm, makes sure Karina feels every bit of his dick entering her sore anus.

Karina, too tired to scream, but feels to good to moans out, moving her head up and down, kissing Blazar back once in a while.

The two enjoy their moments together for longer while, then, Blazar, in his softer tone, tells Karina: "Karina .. I .. I'm gonna ..”

Karina: "Don’t say anything, just do it, fill me with all the very last of your juices, just fill me, I just want all of you in me now!"

Finally, the wait is really over as Blazar pours every last bit of his semen into her warm hole, once again leaving amounts of cum in her.

Karina, happy with the result, finally putting her entire body down to the mat, giggles a bit, having her fantasy fulfilled, as she closes her eyes and sleeps peacefully.

Blazar, gives her one final kiss to her cheek, wrapping his muscular arm around her, then slowly dozes off to his dream.

A while later, Karina slowly opens her eyes, not sure what time is it, gently taps onto Blazar’s arm around her, waking him up.

She then cups her hands onto his face, kiss him on his forehead and nose and asks: "How was it ? You had a nice dream? Did you dream about me ? (Giggles)”

Blazar;” well, I don’t remember what I just dreamed off but I like waking up seeing you more hehe~”

Karina: "Oh haha, veryyy smooth Mr., you just fucked me this entire evening so I'm sure you’ll be happy seeing me for sure. But, I like it, even better than last time, don’t you think so ?” wink

Blazar: "Agree, so … should we… meet each other more often?"

Karina: "I don’t see why not ~~”

Blazar: "Well, I might need a shower too, you care to join me?"

Karina: "Of course, it’ll be great ~~”

Back at Aespa dorm

Winter: "Hey girls, Jimin-unnie hasn’t text anything for a long while, where do you think she go?"

Ningning: "That’s very odd too, should we call her?"

Giselle: "She either has too much fun at the snow or she just fell asleep somewhere lol but yeh let’s spam her messages and calls till she gets back, i’ll like to annoy her anyway lol”

Winter: "Hey look! She texts back! Yayy !! Oh cool she’s still at that snowy neighborhood!"

Ningning: "Haha unnie makes silly snowman, looks exactly like her lol”

Giselle (thinking): "LOL either that girl is having her time with some snow or she really gets herself some FUN time somewhere else, can’t hide that from me that easy Jimin“

#karina smut #aespa smut #aespa karina #karina x reader #aespa #karina #kpop smut #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader

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soobnny · 1 year ago

Text

dating him | hwang hyunjin

❝ i’ve never seen anything quite like you, my love ❞

hopeless romantic hwang hyunjin

love is beautiful and brilliant hwang hyunjin

yall cannot convince me that he isn’t the BIGGEST lover

romance is in his blood

he is so fascinated by it

so, for that reason, i feel like dating him would be like the love you read about or watch in movies

bc hyunjin would b the type to consume so much of romantic media

it’s where he learned everything from

wow what a dream

he strikes me as the type to fall in love with every little thing too

his eyes is just a lens of romance

and it’s set on YOU

every single love language he has it .. but here are some specifics

love language #1 gift giving

hyunjin is a traveler okay

and in every trip, he always has something to give you

keychains, t-shirts, bags, jewelry, stickers, refrigerator magnets, pins, you name it

even u have to remind him not to go all out sometimes

bc when that boy splurges, he SPENDS

esp for u ? he would spoil u in a heartbeat

he always makes sure he leaves a day of his travels dedicated to u and thinking about u

on that note, he tends to buy u guys matching items

matching phone cases, matching rings, matching scrunchie

whatever u can get that’s matching

he WILL get it

it excites him too

he loves being able to tell the world how in love he is

wait side note

whenever he’s traveling, he’s always just instinctively thinking about you

he buys this bagel for breakfast, oh ???? like hey guys yn loves bagels too

and the boys r like WE KNOWWWW 😭

everything is about u quite literally

ok continuing on

and he gifts u his art too

his art is very important to him

and he has found lately, u are the one person littering his sketch books

oh he’s down bad

i think for ur anniversary, he’d paint the constellations of how the stars looked that night and aligned perfectly

or his favorite picture of you

down bad that he also buys u a shit ton of dresses

and lingerie ………….

look he knows his fashion

he knows what looks great

u can’t blame him for buying what he knows will look so pretty on you

(he’d probably give u his card one time and say “go crazy” like wow he’s packed)

#2 quality time

i think his favorite dates would also be expensive

he just can’t help himself

BUT u know he has a sweet spot for self care dates too

spa days are very important to him

loves being able to relax and unwind with u

he especially loves when u play with his hair and when u paint his nails

one time, u caught him stealing one of your nail polishes

would also be the type to bring some bit of you in his travels

like ur perfume or ur shampoo

anything that’ll remind him of u

tho ur scent is his favorite

hence why he goes for perfumes or soap or shampoos bc u feel closer to him this way

he just loves being with u even if both of u are doing nothing

just like that bruno major song

conversations where u lose track of time

conversations as in talking shit about the people you hate together

😭😭😭😭

i think he’d want to paint with u

he’d be so shy to ask you too

just simple things

that cute date idea where you swap paintings every 5 mins or something

when u showed him that tiktok, he jumped in excitement

he wanted to do it right away

he prepares everything

he has both ur paintings framed in his room

it’s his most prized posession

oh, and he always invites u to game nights with the boys

he is SO competitive at monopoly

he couldn’t give two shits about other games

u don’t know why he gets so worked up with monopoly

“SEUNGMIN DONT DO IT SEUNGMIN!!!!”

it’s actually rly funny

he would be the type to take revenge

“you’re gonna regret buying a house there”

would cheer if his friends go to jail in the game or if they go bankrupt

doesn’t even try to hide it

and if he’s playing as the banker, he’d slip in extra bills for you

#3 words of affirmation

tho usually said when he thinks u’re asleep

he’s thankful that u take care of him when he forgets to

esp when he’s so immersed in his art

he whispers words of love

like poets and authors in books

he is just so full of love i can’t say it enough

physical touch except instead of touch, he loves kissing you

LIPS AND NECK ESPECIALLY

those are his top 2

he uses tongue 😕 sorry to break it to u

and he also leaves hickeys

so don’t run out of concealer okay!!!!!!! bc he tends to leave like a lot

before i end

here r some more dates he loves

botanical gardens

he’d pick a flower and place it behind your ear

now it’s his lockscreen

sunday markets

he loves the domesticity of shopping together

he buys u lots of flowers

every single type

u think he’s given u all types already

there is never a day where ur apartment doesn’t have flowers in a vase

bc as soon as the first sign of death arrives, he’s off to buy u new ones

he strikes me as the type to also go all out for valentines

hyunjin would send u mounts of chocolates and flowers

take u out to the fanciest date

u get to try new food and cuisines bc of him!

might even buy plane tickets so u two could travel together

maaaaaaaan just treasure everything

a love like hyunjin’s is hard to come by

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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hameesstuff · 28 days ago

Text

"A Marriage Rewritten”

Pairing: Husband, Lawyer!Jaehyun x Wife, Artist!Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Preview: They were each other’s first everything — love, heartbreak, mistake. Jaehyun is now a ruthless corporate lawyer and her, a struggling but spirited artist. Years after their painful breakup, fate plays its cruelest card: their families arrange their marriage for business-political reasons. Just great.

__________________________________________

Part 1: Signed in Ice

The pen trembled in your hand.

"Don't make it dramatic," Jaehyun muttered across the table, his tone cool as a polished knife. "It's just ink."

You looked up slowly. He was seated like he always was—back straight, suit immaculate, jaw tight. Only his eyes betrayed anything. And even then, they were unreadable.

“You said the same thing when we signed the lease to our first apartment,” you said flatly.

Silence.

The lawyer in the corner shifted uncomfortably.

You signed anyway. Because what else could you do?

Your father's health was failing. Your art gallery was barely breathing. The offer had come dressed in silk and thorns — "a family merger," they called it. His family wanted the political ties. Yours wanted stability. And here you were, a broken love story tied up with gold and paper.

The moment your name hit the contract, Jaehyun pushed his chair back.

"Congrats, Mrs. Jung," he said without a smile.

You stared at him. “Still as charming as ever.”

He stopped at the door. “You knew what this was.”

“Yeah,” you muttered under your breath. “A mistake. Just like last time.”

But he’d already walked out.

Later That Week: The Penthouse

“Wow,” Taeyong muttered, looking around the pristine space like it was a museum. “Cold, sharp, and lifeless. Just like your husband.”

You laughed. “Don’t let him hear you. He might sue.”

He handed you a carton of takeout and flopped onto the modern black couch like he owned it. “So… how does it feel to be back in hell?”

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest. “Familiar.”

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun since the signing. His assistant had dropped off the penthouse keys with a post-it that said “Don’t touch my wine.”

So you touched all of it. On principle.

Two Days Later: The First Fight

The door slammed just as you were dancing barefoot in the kitchen to an old indie song, wearing one of your paint-stained shirts.

“I live here too, remember?” Jaehyun’s voice cut through the music like a blade.

You didn’t even turn. “Thanks for the reminder. I was starting to feel safe.”

He appeared beside you, hair ruffled from work, tie loose. “And this?” He gestured to the chaos of your paints. “This isn’t a studio.”

You held up a brush and smiled sweetly. “Now it is.”

“God,” he muttered. “Why are you always so—”

“Alive?” you offered. “Free? Full of joy that makes your tight little jaw clench?”

His eyes darkened. “You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re boring.”

He stepped forward. “Say that again.”

“You’re boring, Jung Jaehyun,” you said, poking his chest. “You weren’t always. But now? You’re just a stiff in a suit who thinks feelings are weaknesses.”

His mouth was a breath from yours. "You’re one to talk about feelings. Who ran when things got hard?”

You shoved him lightly. “Don’t twist it. You walked out first.”

You didn’t realize how close you were until your chest brushed his.

His gaze dropped to your lips.

But he stepped back. Cold. Colder than the last time.

"Grow up,” he said. “You're not twenty anymore."

You didn't answer.

And the ache between your ribs reminded you that neither was he.

Part 2 - “Velvet Lies & Stolen Glances”

Charity Gala – Grand Hyatt, Seoul

The gala was for some high-profile legal foundation. Jaehyun’s turf. You were only there to play the role of a dutiful wife — the ornament beside Seoul’s most prized lawyer.

You’d worn black silk, not for him — for yourself. But the look in his eyes when you stepped out of the dressing room said otherwise.

He’d gone quiet. Too quiet.

“You clean up well,” you muttered, tugging your earring on as you passed him.

He didn’t answer — just stared.

But then came the car ride. Cold. Professional. His voice only used for directions and “You forgot your clutch.” The same man who used to kiss your shoulder at every red light now treated you like a contract clause.

Inside the Ballroom

You weren’t even halfway into your first flute of champagne before you felt a presence.

“Yo.”

You turned — and lit up. “Taeyong!”

He hugged you like the night hadn’t been awful. “You look like a painting tonight.”

You mock-curtsied. “I clean up when I want to show my ex-boyfriend-slash-current-husband that I’m still capable of turning heads.”

Jaehyun, standing not five feet away, tensed.

Taeyong grinned. “You still turning hearts, too?”

You leaned into him laughing — and Jaehyun’s hand appeared at the small of your back like a damn reflex.

“She’s married,” he said smoothly. “Remember?”

You turned your head slowly. “To you? Oh, right. I forget sometimes.”

His jaw flexed. “Clearly.”

Later: On the Balcony

You needed air.

The silk clung to your back like heat, and the music inside started to feel suffocating. You stepped outside into the cool night — and Jaehyun followed five seconds later.

“You like making me look like a fool?” he asked, not angrily — but low, sharp.

You scoffed. “If the title fits.”

“He touches you like you’re his.”

You turned to him. “And you act like I’m yours.”

A beat.

Jaehyun stepped forward, jaw taut, eyes unreadable. “Aren’t you?”

You blinked.

“You’re not dating him.”

“No,” you admitted.

“You’re wearing my ring.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

His voice dipped. “Then why do I still want to kiss you every time you laugh at someone else?”

You stared at him.

Silence stretched.

And then you turned away, heart slamming, voice low. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

He didn’t stop you from walking back in.

But he didn’t look at anyone else for the rest of the night.

Part 3 - “Cracks in the Ice”

Back at the Penthouse – After the Gala

The car ride home was silent again.

Only this time, the silence felt different.

He kept glancing at you. Like he wanted to say something. Like if he opened his mouth, everything he’d buried for years would spill out.

But he didn’t.

So when you got home, you went straight to your makeshift studio—Jaehyun’s sterile guest room, now littered with canvases and paint jars.

You kicked off your heels and dropped onto the floor, dress pooled around you, dragging your fingers through a half-finished piece.

Not five minutes passed before he stood at the door, hands in his pockets, tie loosened.

“You were flirting with him.”

You didn’t even look up. “And you were pretending to care in front of donors.”

“I wasn’t pretending.”

Silence.

Then—his voice, sharper this time. “What does he give you that I don’t?”

Your head snapped up. “Kindness. Consistency. Someone who doesn’t treat me like a transaction.”

Jaehyun's jaw locked, but his eyes… cracked.

“He was never there when you fell apart. I was.”

“You also left me in pieces.”

That shut him up.

Next Day: Solo Gallery Appearance

It was supposed to be low-key. A community event for local artists — nothing glamorous, nothing massive. But the article dropped while you were still standing by your own canvas.

“Wife of Elite Corporate Lawyer Peddles Paintings at Local Crafts Fair?”

You froze. Mouth dry.

And then you saw the rest.

Anonymous quotes:

“She only got the spot because she’s married to Jung Jaehyun.”

“She’s talentless — the marriage is her real gallery.”

“Desperate for relevance.”

The world tilted.

Your hands shook. You stepped outside, back pressed to a wall as the chill hit your bare arms.

That Night – Back Home

You were curled on the couch, staring at nothing. Still in your gallery dress. Your phone on silent.

Jaehyun walked in and stood there for a long time.

Finally: “I handled it.”

You nodded numbly. “Good.”

“I mean it,” he said. “I had them retract everything. I bought out the blog. They’ll be issuing a formal apology tomorrow. And they’ll donate to your gallery.”

You stared at him. “Why?”

He knelt in front of you slowly. “Because I let you go once,” he whispered, “and I’ve regretted it every goddamn day.”

Your breath caught.

“And because…” his voice cracked, “you’re still the only person whose opinion has the power to ruin me.”

The air between you tightened. Dense. Fragile.

You leaned forward without thinking, forehead brushing his.

“Jaehyun—”

“I’m still in love with you.”

His hands curled around your waist. Yours knotted into his shirt.

And then—

You kissed him.

Hard. Hungry. But not angry.

It was years of silence being undone.

Part 4 - “The Wall That Broke”

The Morning After

You woke tangled in a blanket on the living room couch, your head resting on Jaehyun’s lap.

His fingers were in your hair.

Not moving. Not stroking. Just… there. Holding.

You blinked up at him. “Didn’t know lawyers came with built-in pillows.”

He didn’t smile. “Didn’t know artists kissed like they never stopped loving you.”

Your throat tightened.

Neither of you moved.

Then, softly: “Do we talk about last night?” you asked.

He looked away. “Do you want to?”

You paused. “Eventually.”

He nodded once. “Then eventually.”

But when you got up, he helped you straighten your wrinkled shirt.

His knuckles lingered on your collarbone.

That Week: Your First Real Outing Together

A city charity fundraiser. Crowds. Cameras. Handshakes.

He kept his hand at the small of your back all night.

You smiled when the press called you “picture-perfect.”

You didn’t know he’d canceled a major case to be there.

That Night – The Bedroom Door Left Open

You passed his room on the way to your studio.

His door was open.

He sat there in a white tee, head in his hands.

When he noticed you, he didn't speak — just patted the bed beside him.

You sat.

Neither of you said a word.

He laid back, arm brushing yours. You followed.

No kisses.

No lies.

Just silence and breathing, and his fingers grazing yours under the sheets like they used to.

Final Part - “The Letters He Never Burned”

The house was quiet when you returned from the hospital. Your father’s operation had gone well — a miracle, the doctor had said. The relief should’ve settled your bones, but it hadn’t. Not until the nurse handed you the paperwork.

Paid in full.

Signed: Jung Jaehyun.

You stood in the doorway of the penthouse, fingers trembling, the receipt still in your coat pocket.

He was on the couch, shirt sleeves rolled, legal documents beside him. He looked up when he heard the door—then immediately stood, brow creasing.

“You’re back late.”

You didn’t answer.

“Is your dad—”

“He’s fine,” you said softly. “Because of you.”

He went still.

You walked toward him slowly, heart loud in your ears. “You told me your family wouldn’t help.”

“They didn’t,” he said. Quiet. Careful.

“But you did.”

He swallowed. “You hate charity.”

You stepped closer. “You think this is about pride?”

“No,” he said after a beat. “It’s about how I failed you once. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to buy forgiveness.”

Your throat clenched.

Then you dropped the second bomb. “I went into the study.”

He froze.

“You should really lock your drawers,” you whispered.

He didn’t ask which ones. He knew.

“All the letters, Jaehyun.... Every single one. From college. From after the breakup.” You paused. “Even the one where I told you I hated you.”

His voice cracked, “Never believed that one.”

Silence. Heavy. Soft.

You stepped right into his space. “Why didn’t you let me go?”

He exhaled, hand brushing your waist with the ghost of a touch. “Because letting you go never worked. I tried.”

You blinked back tears. “And marrying me?”

“The only way I could keep you close,” he admitted, voice low. “Even if it meant you’d hate me again.”

Your breath hitched. “You think I still do?”

He looked at you like you were sunlight after a long winter. “I think I don’t deserve you. Even If I never stopped loving you.”

And finally—finally—you kissed him.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed.

It was reverent.

Years of pain melting into the space between your mouths.

He kissed your forehead. Your cheek. The tip of your nose.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse. “I love you.”

His kisses were slow. Thoughtful. Like he was mapping the years you’d been apart with every touch of his lips. He didn’t pull you into bed like he used to — like a man starved.

No.

He laid you down like someone he'd loved in a hundred lifetimes. Reverently. Carefully. His hands explored your skin like an old story he finally had permission to reread.

Your breaths tangled. His forehead pressed to yours.

When he entered you, there was no sharp gasp. No race. Just a sigh — one that left both your mouths at once, as if your bodies remembered what your pride had buried.

His hand was laced with yours above your head. His voice was in your ear, cracked and breathless.

“I still see you every time I close my eyes,” he whispered. “Even when I didn’t want to.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I never stopped writing letters,” you whispered. “I just stopped sending them.”

He slowed.

Held your face.

And moved inside you like he was writing one back — with his hands, his mouth, his heart.

No rush.

No noise.

Only softness. Only “I love you” in every unspoken place between your skin.

Epilogue – “Framed in Color”

Five years later – Seoul Contemporary Museum of Expression

The museum bustled softly, high ceilings glowing with morning light.

In the far wing — the one newly dedicated to living Korean artists — a six-year-old girl in a yellow sundress stood in front of a giant abstract mural, tilting her head.

Jaehyun crouched beside her.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

His daughter scrunched her nose. “It looks like... Mama’s dreams.”

He smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

The plaque at the base read:

“To the woman who paints without apology, and the man who finally learned how to see her.”

— Y/N Jung

Your name.

Framed in gold.

You walked toward them with two iced coffees and a juice box, smiling as your daughter tugged her dad’s sleeve.

“She’s gonna be famous,” the girl whispered.

Jaehyun looked up at you, his heart never more full.

“She already is.”

And as your daughter ran off down the gallery, her laughter echoing, Jaehyun reached for your hand.

Not like he was holding on.

But like he’d never let go again.

The End.

Feedback is welcome!

___________________________________________

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