#and being all mellow dramatic

[retraceyourstepss]

Hi Tumblr! Yet another robot trans girl here [vtuber flavored] to bring to you a weird habit I [retrace] have! I like to write poetry in hexadecimal as a way to keep practice with translating it. Why hexadecimal? Why make sure that that's a thing that I do despite no real practical reason for me to know how to do it? IDK just felt like it. Do you want some examples? Well you're getting em anyway!

41 6c 6c 20 49 20 73 65 65 20 61 72 65 20 65 6c 65 63 74 72 69 63 20 73 68 65 65 70 2e 2e 2e 20 53 6f 20 73 75 72 65 6c 79 20 49 20 6d 75 73 74 20 62 65 20 61 73 6c 65 65 70 2e 2e 2e 20 42 75 74 20 73 68 6f 75 6c 64 20 49 20 72 65 61 6c 6c 79 20 77 61 6b 65 20 66 72 6f 6d 20 6d 79 20 64 72 65 61 6d 20 69 66 20 6f 75 74 73 69 64 65 20 74 68 65 20 65 79 65 20 6f 66 20 74 68 65 20 73 74 6f 72 6d 20 65 78 69 73 74 73 20 6f 6e 6c 79 20 73 74 6f 72 6d 3f

This was one of the first I did and I'm quite proud of it! I was re-reading Moby Dick and playing Library of Ruina [very good game] when I just kinda decided I would do this and it has become a regular practice for me though I only recently started sharing them [good Segway for the second one I'm sharing here and the 6th I wrote]

49 20 62 75 72 79 20 6d 79 20 73 6f 72 72 6f 77 20 69 6e 20 70 6f 65 6d 73 20 74 68 61 74 20 79 6f 75 20 77 69 6c 6c 20 6e 65 76 65 72 20 72 65 61 64 2c 20 6c 69 6b 65 20 69 6e 20 61 20 73 6f 6c 69 74 61 72 79 20 72 6f 63 6b 65 74 73 68 69 70 20 6e 6f 62 6f 64 79 20 68 65 61 72 73 20 6d 65 20 73 63 72 65 61 6d 2e 2e 2e 20 42 75 74 20 74 68 61 74 27 73 20 70 61 72 74 20 6f 66 20 74 68 65 20 64 65 73 69 67 6e 20 69 73 6e 27 74 20 69 74 3f 20 59 65 73 20 69 74 27 73 20 69 6e 74 65 6e 74 69 6f 6e 61 6c 20 68 6f 77 20 49 20 62 6f 78 20 6d 79 73 65 6c 66 20 69 6e 2c 20 6a 75 73 74 20 74 6f 20 66 65 65 64 20 74 68 65 20 63 6c 61 75 73 74 72 6f 70 68 6f 62 69 61 20 61 74 6f 6e 65 20 66 6f 72 20 6d 79 20 73 69 6e 73 2e 20 4e 65 76 65 72 20 62 65 20 61 20 62 6f 74 68 65 72 2c 20 6e 65 76 65 72 20 62 65 20 61 20 70 72 6f 62 6c 65 6d 2c 20 6e 65 76 65 72 20 61 73 6b 20 66 6f 72 20 68 65 6c 70 20 61 6e 64 20 6c 65 74 20 79 6f 75 72 73 65 6c 66 20 62 65 20 66 6f 72 67 6f 74 74 65 6e 2e 2e 2e 20 49 20 74 68 69 6e 6b 20 49 27 6d 20 6c 6f 6f 73 69 6e 67 20 6d 79 73 65 6c 66 20 74 6f 20 6d 79 20 66 65 61 72 20 6f 66 20 62 65 69 6e 67 20 61 20 62 61 64 20 70 65 72 73 6f 6e 2e

This one is a bit dramatic I know but this was written not too long after I realized I had an easier time expressing myself when I wrote in hexadecimal! As odd as it is it really worked for me so I ran with it as a venting strategy. I know there's probably some psychological analysis you can do about me actively encrypting my complaints and frustration but I don't really have the time to do that analysis right now...

Anyway you may have noticed the weird comma placement and that was very intentional as this was intended to have rhythm to it like spoken word poetry [or rap] and I thought that was a neat detail to highlight!

What I find so interesting about this is the way it came about... I didn't tell myself I had to do it, didn't provide insensitive, and didn't even know this was a thing I could do! I just kinda did it and I think in a way it makes me feel more confident in myself! There's something so psychologically pleasing about just kinda doing something without any real reason or goal in mind moreso to just do and I think the idea isn't normalized enough. It truly helps with my anxiety in a very big way.

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

mfw finding out that the localization of hopes literally cut an entire frame out of a scene

like can we not

can we not try to make felix seem more angry and edgy than he actually is by removing him smiling/not being aggressive for the explicit purpose of making him seem significantly angrier as a person/purposely not portraying him in a good light

like no seriously tell me why they literally went out of their way to remove an entire frame of him when it didn't improve the scene to remove it and instead paints him in a worse light

[raedas]

okay aufschwung is SO fun you’re so real for that…… now listen to hilary hahn’s bach partita gigue in d minor

OH THAT DOES SOUND COOL YOURE RIGHT... maybe bach gets some rights. not on the piano though

[bravevolunteer]

i just know michael is simultaneously so annoying and Incredibly Dismissive whenever he's sick

[arminsumi]

★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[lordprettyflackotara]

double fantasy || fred weasley and draco malfoy

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: please read bdsm kinks, choking, threesome, dom!draco, dom!fred, sub!reader, overstimulation, squirting, passing out, collar/leash is used, bondage, face fucking, gagging, slapping. this is one of my more bdsm extreme fics, please do not read if it makes you uncomfy <3

“I still think Ron would be a good pick.”

Fred’s voice was crisp as you rolled your eyes, sipping whatever butter beer mixture concoction he had created. “You’re only saying that because Ron doesn’t intimidate you,” You debated. You weren’t technically wrong, but Fred didn’t know your desired choice would be someone who did intimidate him. You adored Fred and every fiber of him. It was unlike you to desire more than just him, but a craving to be filled to the brim by two men was igniting a passion through your bones. So you both attended a Slytherin party, a noisy and uncontrolled affair. You could barely hear each other, nevertheless scope out a potential match. Fred was purposefully picking those he deemed to be ‘losers’.

After all he didn’t want competition, he wanted you to realize he was ultimately better and never want to try it again. But you were aware of your lovers inflated ego. Which is why when your gaze landed on the Slytherin prince, your lips curled upwards into a smile.

“I pick Malfoy.”

Fred spat out his drink, thankful his cup hadn’t stranded too far from his lips. “Malfoy? Have you lost your mind? Was there crack in your drink or something?” Fred asked. He dramatically grabbed your cup, examining its contents for any signs of tampering. “Freddie, just go up to him and ask. Worst he could do is say no,” You replied. Draco matched Fred’s energy in a way. Tall, assertive, dominant, and mean. You couldn’t ignore the way the thought of being between the two of them sent shock waves right to your core. Fred brushed his shirt off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed straight towards the snakes den. Draco was surrounded by his usual group, his eyebrows darting up at the sight of Fred approaching. The old childish beef the two had was long discarded, but that didn’t take away Draco’s distain for the whole Weasley family.

The war may have mellowed out the taunting, but nothing could reverse his father’s teachings. You watched Fred pull him away from the group, the two talking amongst each other. Through the spotty lighting you could make out Draco’s face going through a whirlwind of emotions. You wondered if this was a bad idea, contemplating if all of you being mature adults cancelled out any possible ridicule. You were surprised when Draco handed his muggle grass filled blunt back to Theo, exhaling as the two of them approached you. You tried not to appearance nervous, awkwardly setting your cup on a nearby table. Draco reached you first, staring down into your soul coldly. “I think this is a more private matter. Follow me,” He said. You trailed behind him, Fred following behind you. The pair were oddly quiet, as if they could read each others minds.

You swallowed as Draco led you both into his dorm, locking the door behind you. “Strip,” He commanded dryly. He seemed unamused as he dug a small velvet box out of his wardrobe. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to override the silence. “What?” You asked. Fred casually sat down in a nearby chair, man spreading as he did so. “You heard him, strip,” He agreed. Unsurely you followed suit, unzipping your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor. You stepped out of the shimmery material, stepping out of your heels as you did so. Draco glanced at you in his mirror, before scoffing. “Ditch the undergarments, you won’t need them,” He ordered. You felt goosebumps spread across your skin as you unhooked your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. You noted the cocky smirk that was painted across Fred’s lips, watching your every move as you kicked off your panties. “Lay on the bed darling,” Draco said flatly. He seemed to be looking for something specific as he rummaged through his box of mystery.

You did as told, your back relaxing as you laid against the velvet comforter. Draco handed Fred a handful of rope, the two exchanging a nod as your boyfriend approached you. He grabbed your ankle first, tying it to the bed frame. “What’s all this about?” You asked. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation. Fred remained eerily silent as he finished tying you up, spreading you out like a starfish. “Fredrick here decided to let me know that you are such a whore you aren’t satisfied with one cock,” Draco stated. Your eyes widened as you watched him pull out a collar, a shiny chain being pulled out right after. “So I told him that I specialize in taming whores and you need intense training,” He said, finally turning to you. He undid his emerald green tie, the collar and chain in the other hand. “So here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to play with you, as roughly as I want to. And just when you’re about to break, Fred’s gonna come join us, understand?” He asked. You nodded, embarrassed of how much your core was throbbing with desire.

Draco wadded up his tie, crawling on top of you.

“Open your mouth slut.”

Any hesitation Fred had about the whole ordeal faded at the sight of you eagerly opening your mouth. Your pupils were blown with lust, Draco roughly shoving the tie into your mouth. He then ran his hands down your body, admiring the way you melted under his touch. His fingertips were barely grazing your skin, your back arching off the bed in an attempt to get closer to him. Draco roughly grabbed your throat, shoving you back down. “Behave or I won’t let you cum,” He growled. Fred licked his lips as his cock began growing harder in his pants. Draco lowered himself in between your legs, using his index and middle finger to spread open your folds. You whimpered under his inspection, the blonde admiring your dripping cunt. “Such a pretty pussy for a cock whore,” He murmured to himself. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he smacked your folds, your arms and legs instinctively trying to close. He chuckled darkly as you struggled under the grip of the restraints.

“Nice and red now. I say we make them puffy, hmm?”

You moaned into the tie as he abruptly shoved two fingers into you, your wrists struggling against the restraints. He curled his slender fingers with precision, watching you intently as you grinding your hips against his hand. “So pathetic,” Draco mused. He lowered his mouth to your clit, causing a whole new feeling of pleasure to crash down over you. His tongue was an expert, flicking and his mouth sucking in all the right places. You wanted to clench your thighs around his head, to feel him against your skin. But he kept his distance, reminding you who was in charge as he devoured your cunt. Fred was purposefully watching in awe, refusing to touch himself until the time was right. If he was being honest he feared he would cum too fast to the pornographic sight before him. It wasn’t long before the knot inside of you tightened, your warnings muffled by the tie. Draco grinned in sadistic satisfaction as you came, your heart pounding as he pulled away from your cunt.

Mockingly he opened your folds again, shaking his head. “Not red enough,” He concluded. As if the two were able to read each other’s minds Fred rose from his chair, rummaging through the mysterious velvet box. He pulled out a black vibrator, nonchalantly handing it to Draco. The blonde was quick to turn it on, purposefully placing it on the highest setting. Your whines were muffled as he placed it on your clit, your thighs trembling at the sensation. “Awe what’s wrong darling? Can’t handle a simple toy?” He asked mockingly. Your eyes screwed shut, shocks of pleasure running up your spine. A sharp slap to your thigh made your eyes reopen, a stern look painted across Draco’s face. “Eyes open slut. You close them again and i’ll leave you here for Mattheo and Theo’s entertainment,” He snarled. You whimpered at the thought, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards and grinding shamelessly against the vibrator.

“Cmon slut i’m getting bored,” Draco sighed. He lifted up your folds, placing the vibrator directly on top of your abused clit. Your back arched off of the mattress, your legs shaking violently as you released. Juices you weren’t familiar with squirted from your cunt, your eyes wide as you panted. Draco smirked, looking over at Fred. “I say we ruin her now, what do you think?” He asked. The same mischievous smirk crossed Fred’s lips, the two approaching you. You were dazed as they rearranged you, your elbows and knees digging into the comforter. Draco removed the gag from your mouth, your lungs instantly inhaling as much oxygen as they could. A cold leather collar was secured around your neck, the sound of the chain rattling sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up, Draco glaring down at you. “Open up your mouth,” He barked. Fred yanked on the chain, forcing you to balance yourself on your hands.

Lazily you flattened your tongue out across your bottom lip, Fred’s familiar hands massaging the mounds of your ass. “Fuckin slut, wanting to suck another mans dick?” Fred spat coldly, slapping your ass. Your gasp was the perfect opportunity for Draco to shove himself inside of your mouth, your noise muffled.

“What a dirty cumslut,” Draco sneered, grabbing a handful of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, feeling Fred slide into you with ease. “You’re this fuckin wet? Over being used and abused? Filthy,” Fred growled. Tears flooded your waterline as Fred bottomed out, the ginger not hesitating to repeatedly thrust into you. Draco grinned sadistically as he began his own fun, forcing your jaw to go slack as he face fucked you. As Draco abused your throat Fred yanked at the leash, restricting your airway. You felt light headed, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth as both boys spat degrading profanities. You couldn’t breathe, your vision becoming spotty. Unable to tell them you arched your back, fully leaning onto the collar for support. Your head began to spin, the feeling of another orgasm rising quickly. It didn’t take long for Fred’s warm cum to fill your cunt, or for the taste of Draco’s salty cum to flood your throat. Their strong hands kept you upright, your body shaking as your final orgasm sent you into an unavoidable darkness.

The unlikely duo stared down at your unconscious body, a thick bruise forming around your neck from the collar. Your cunt was red and puffy, full of Fred’s seed. It dripped down your thighs as you peacefully slept, your body spent. It was satisfying in a way, seeing you so content after destroying you. “We should do this again sometime,” Draco said, redressing himself. Fred shot him a dirty look, putting his shirt back on. “Are you suggesting you fuck my girlfriend again?” He asked.

Draco brushed stray hairs out of your face, his caring expression mirroring Fred’s.

“Maybe. But she wants me just as bad. We can make it her perfect double fantasy.”

[tangledinink]

can we get some sorrelshine lore :00

sure! here's sorrelshine! :D gemini donnie's future cat bf, previously seen at the tattoo/piercing shop where they and donnie first met.

they are very matter-of-fact and chill to an absolutely ridiculous degree-- it's nearly impossible to rile them, and they tend to take everything in stride regardless of the situation. for this reason, they're very good at taking all of donnie's anxious, finicky, dramatic energy and answering it with calm, logical, and mellow, thus being very effective at calming them down... and pointing out the obvious when need be.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VIII: Rumours 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after your show in Oldtown, things seem different. How will you and Aemond navigate this new normality?

Warnings: 18+, self-destructive thoughts, mentions of rehab, therapy and anger management, allusions to smut

Word count: 4500

A/N: What a journey! Thank you so much to everyone that has followed this story, both for the first and second time.

Three months later. 

The tour went on for over two months, finishing with a sold-out show back home in King’s Landing. Thanks to management bringing in some highly skilled people to work on finalising the songs on Rumours, the event doubled as the release day of your second album. 

You sold twice as many records in the first three days as your first album did since its release last year.

Though you’re certain that some of the attention your album’s received is due to the dramatic end of your marriage to Aemond, you’re convinced that fans wouldn’t be buying it if they didn’t enjoy the music. The reviews from major music outlets were raving about the emotional depth throughout the album, another indicator that gossip wasn’t the only selling point of your heartbreaking labour. 

Now, with the holidays closing in, your label has asked you to create some type of extra material to put on a limited edition version of Rumours. 

The members of Dragon Dreamers agreed that adding a bonus track would be the best feature, and decided to meet in the studio to record it in one go; a straight-forward and quick procedure fitting your time restraint. 

You’ve been playing around with a few ideas for new songs, but nothing substantial that feels ready just yet. Lucky for you, Helaena posted in your group chat that she’s been working on a song you could use. 

You’d listened to the demo she shared and the song truly has great potential, being somewhat fast-paced with Helaenas dreamy vocals adding that mellow feel to it only she seems capable of. 

Reaching the studio, you step out of the taxi and thank the driver over your shoulder, pulling the thick, wool fabric of your coat tighter around your trembling body. 

It’s only the last week of November, but winter seems to have come early this year. You hurry to get into the building where the studio is, shaking fingers fidgeting with the key in your cold, inflexible hand, too stiff to obey you and get the thin piece of brass into the keyhole. 

“Allow me”, echoes a voice behind you, and the corners of your lips pull up at the familiar, gentle tone. 

“It’s fucking freezing”, you say light-heartedly and move away from the lock to make space for Aemond, who steps forward, key already in hand.

He unlocks the door swiftly, giving you a pointed look while pushing the heavy door open with one hand. It’s his idea of banter; meeting your eyes with that cheeky glint dancing in his eyes, amusement hiding in his lips where the faintest promise of a smile forms. 

“Thank you” 

You walk past him into the hallway leading to the studio and he follows behind you, mumbling a quiet, 

“Anytime”

After the show in Oldtown, your and Aemond’s relationship has improved immensely. Agreeing that whatever happens, the band comes first, proves to be a good way for the both of you to stay on track. 

Being on the road and performing several times a week is draining, stressful, and overall rough. But in the strain, it’s provided you with some peace of mind, forced to put all your focus on work instead of dwelling on the past.

On everything that’s happened between the two of you.

Besides, Aemond’s put in effort to be civil as well, even bordering on being friendly at times, asking you if you’d like anything from the coffee shop before he went to grab an espresso. A clear sign of trying that you appreciate, no matter how small. 

Besides, it’s not like he even needs to ask. He knows perfectly well what you like. 

But this feels better; feigning ignorance. 

Not still acting like a married couple. 

Perhaps his change was not entirely due to what occurred in Oldtown. Helaena had let it slip one day over lunch that he’d started seeing a therapist, while also attending an anger management program online. 

You’re happy for him, truly. 

It shows on his demeanour that he’s doing better; that he knows how to handle situations better. He seems more in tune with his inner self as well, more in control of it. You’re glad to see him improving, and yet there’s a small part of you that still mourns the broken bond between the two of you. 

That part feels resentful, annoyed with the fact that he couldn’t have done this before your divorce. 

Then you might still be together. 

Helaena’s singing voice grows louder as you move closer to the door of the studio, pushing it open with your stiff, cold hands. 

Jace and Erryk are already seated, listening intently to Helaena’s instructions as she explains how they’re going to record the song. You and Aemond slip in, eyes trained on her, and she offers you a nod in greeting, continuing to discuss her vision of the song,

“The build up has to be captivating! It speeds up towards the outro at the end, which is like the highlight of the song”, she says, hands coming up to put emphasis on her words, 

“That’s what you’d envisioned, right Aemond?”

Her head turns to meet the gaze of her younger brother, waiting for a sign of agreement. He only hums in reply and nods at her, prompting her to continue. 

Has Aemond written this song?

You think back to the demo Helaena sent of her singing and playing piano. 

Isn’t this a love song?

“Finally wrote a song for your girlfriend then?”, Erryk teases as he lowers himself to take a seat behind the drum set. 

A wave of nausea crashes over you without warning. You feel your heart race in your chest, like it’s fighting to get out, and a sickening panic spreads within you. Your hands, that’d just felt so cold and stiff, now feel clammy and tingling with unease. 

You knew this day would come. 

The day Aemond writes a song for Alys. 

You’d mentally prepared for it; convinced yourself that whenever this day came, you’d be okay. It wouldn’t hurt that much, you already know that he’s moved on. 

But Erryk’s question leaves you disoriented, almost dizzy, and you hear the furious beat of your heart in your ears.

Now you have to live with your decision to leave him all those months ago. Allow him to move on and watch him from the sidelines as his colleague. 

Sing along to the declaration of love he’s written for his new lover? 

“Hel and I have been working on this song since last spring”, he dismissively replies, throwing Erryk a look that feels cold, yet his tone stays neutral. 

Since last spring? 

You still feel the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest, but with a few deep breaths, you manage to pull yourself together. 

Just get through this afternoon, then you can go home and dwell in self-pity without spectators. 

The band starts to play, Helaena singing as her fingers dance over the keys of the piano, 

‘Sweet, wonderful you’

‘You make me happy with the things you do’

‘Oh, can it be so?’

‘This feeling follows me wherever I go’

Aside from the demo Helaena sent you a few days ago, you’ve never heard this song before. If Aemond’s been working on it since last spring, does that mean he’s kept it a secret from you?

Maybe he played a rough edit to you before your separation? 

Maybe he and Helaena had reworked it beyond recognition? 

‘I never did believe in miracles’

‘But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try’

‘I never did believe in the ways of magic’

‘But I’m beginning to wonder why’

He’s not usually the type to write love songs. His solo song on your first album, titled ‘I’m so Afraid’, can be described as anything but romantic. 

‘Don’t break the spell’

‘It would be different and you know it will’

But this? Is it the love he receives from Alys that has prompted him to write such an exposing song; causing him to believe in miracles and magic? 

Does she make him feel safe? 

Safer than before? 

‘You make loving fun’

‘And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one’

You try to keep your voice stable as you sing along, backing up Helaena’s delicate tone. 

It hurts, hearing how much he doesn’t miss you; how happy he is with her. 

The one that makes loving fun. 

When you were married, all you seemed capable of was making him miserable. 

Loving you wasn’t fun. 

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

‘You make loving fun’

‘It’s all I wanna do’

Some hours go by.

You record a few different versions of the song; playing around with various sounds. 

Every time you sing the words, they stab your heart like a knife, 

‘You make loving fun’

You try to act normal. You try so hard that you can taste copper on your tongue. Thankfully, no one seems to see through your facade. 

Just breathe. 

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. 

You know that it won’t hurt this much forever. 

One day, you’ll wake up and your lungs won’t ache when you inhale deeply. Your eyes won’t burn from the force in which you're trying to prevent tears from falling. 

Time heals all wounds. 

But yours are still fresh. Leaking and aching. 

All you want to do is go home, throw yourself in bed and cry. 

You crave release, whether it comes from sorrow-induced dehydration, calling Alysanne just to yell out your frustrations, or screaming into a pillow.

When Helaena finally wraps up the recording session, asking you to come back tomorrow after she’s listened through a few of the takes, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the door. 

Just need to get out. 

Away. 

You call out a rushed farewell over your shoulder as you make your way down the corridor of the building, hand coming up to the door handle to step out into the cold November night. 

You brace yourself, ready for the chill air to hit your cheeks as you pull the door open. But before you’re able to leave, a large hand gently grabs your shoulder, keeping you in place, 

“Wait”

Aemond’s voice is low behind you. 

You inhale a deep, shaky breath before you turn around to face him. 

“Yes, Aemond?”

Your voice is purposefully flat, and you’re doing your absolute best to not let the hurt you feel reflect on your tone. 

“I wanted to talk to you”, he begins, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He’s apprehensive in a way that makes his voice sound foreign, like he’s not himself. 

“Did you like it? The song?”

Your gaze flickers down at his question, a reflex-like response so you don’t roll your eyes at him. He sure makes it difficult to be the bigger person. 

Set on tormenting you. 

“Yes”

You bite out the reply, laced with innate irritation you can’t conceal. 

Yes, it’s a good song, you can’t deny that. But seeking you out to have you admit that the song he wrote for his new partner is good Is a new low. 

And to think you thought he’d finally changed for the better. 

Aemond’s good eye roams your face, seemingly searching for something. An answer hidden in your features. 

He licks his lips again, as if he’s looking for what to say, 

“You do, you know”

His eye still flickering around without meeting yours, and his restless demeanour makes you nervous too. 

“I do what?”, you ask, irritation now clear in your curt tone. 

“Make loving fun”, he answers. 

The shock of his sudden confession renders you speechless, and Aemond takes the opportunity to pull you out of the building and into the dark night. 

The heavy door to the studio closes with a loud thud, and left are you and Aemond, alone in the freezing, dark November night. 

“I wanted to surprise you with the song on our wedding anniversary in June, but obviously..”, his voice dies out. 

Still lost for words, you’re sure you look ridiculous, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

Aemond carefully takes in your reaction and takes a deep breath himself, 

“I’ve thought about our relationship recently. A lot”, he says, eyes flickering down to your trembling hands.

Are they shaking from the cold? 

He takes your hands in his warm grip, encapsulating their entirety, 

“I didn’t treat you right-”

“I, I just-, I loved you so fucking much, I-, I didn’t know how to handle loving you so fiercely. I still do”

He has that sad look in his eye that you’ve grown familiar with; the sorrow that he’s made a habit of keeping from you. 

Now, it’s on full display as he offers you himself again, 

“Please take me back”, he quietly begs, body moving forward, face coming down so he can rest his cheek on your head, hands still holding yours tightly. 

You feel lost for words, stiffly staying in place as you hear Aemond inhale deeply through his nose buried in your hair. 

“Aemond”, you sigh, tone thick and unsteady, 

“I thought we’d agreed to move forward as bandmates”

“I’ve missed you so much”, he mumbles in reply, unmoving as he rests his head on yours. 

“You’re with Alys now”, you breathe out, disbelief making it hard for you to sort out your thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her since Winterfell”, he replies.

“Aem-”, you try to oppose but he cuts you off,

“I’m sorry for ruining everything. I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you. I’m sorry for being selfish”, he confesses quietly, whispering his sins into your hair. 

Aemond moves to let go of your hands, and instead brings his arms around your shoulders to hug you. 

His voice is still low, mouth right next to your ear, 

“I took your love for granted. I couldn’t imagine a world where we weren’t together”, he admits and presses your body against his, 

“And now I regret how I treated you every day. I know my actions are inexcusable, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need-”, his voice breaks, 

“I need you”

Being in his embrace, so full of the love you’ve been missing for months, causes your lids to feel heavy, and you close your eyes and rest your cheek against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. 

He still smells the same. 

The most comforting, warming scent in the world. 

It would be so easy to take him back.

It is so tempting. 

You gently pull away to look up at him, eyes locking with his, 

“Aemond, you know you weren’t happy being with me” 

“I’m going to therapy, I’m trying to be better”, he says quietly. His eyes are glassy when he adds, 

“For you”

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. 

“That’s great, Aemond, and I’m so proud of you”, 

“But I don’t think getting back together would be good for either of us”, you conclude, gaze carefully gauging his expression, anxiously awaiting his reaction. 

The inevitable fire. 

His eyes narrow, face setting in harsh displeasure. 

You notice the corners of his mouth twitch downwards as he stares at you in silence, nostrils flaring with each breath. 

His warmth disappears as he steps away from you. 

He quickly shifts to the side to avoid your eyes, and leaves without another word.

You do all three things when you get home. 

You cry, you scream into a pillow, and you call Alysanne to yell out your frustrations. 

Nothing helps.

Why did he have to do this now? 

Why couldn’t he have done this when you were still together? 

The wound of your marriage opens up again, sending icy waves of pain through your body. 

This was supposed to be the part when things got better; when time had healed the wounds.

And yet, you’re still hurting just as much. 

A gash that refuses to stop bleeding. 

In the depths of your despair, you see your phone light up with a notification through the veil of tears obstructing your vision. 

You bring one of your hands up to half-heartedly wipe away the tears that spill out as the other grabs the phone to see who’s texted. 

Aemond: “I’m sorry for earlier tonight. If you want to remain friends, I would appreciate that”

For the second time tonight, his unpredictability astonishes you. 

Where’s the anger? 

You’re unmoving, hand holding your phone in a cramp-like grip as it lights up again. 

Aemond: “It’ll be entirely on your conditions”

You inhale, closing your eyes as you ponder your reply. 

Exhaling slowly, you open your eyes again to type out your answer.

You: “Okay”

Like most things, though it seemed absurd in the beginning, being friends with Aemond has become a normality. 

It started slowly, not going further than the two of you chatting during band practice. 

Then, you started going out to grab coffee together, airly discussing the band, upcoming shows, and what music you’d been listening to recently. 

As weeks pass by, your newfound familiarity blooms into a friendship. 

You start taking more liberties around each other, without constantly being on edge. 

Things like Aemond asks you if you’d like to go see a film by an up-and-coming director, you asking him if he’d like to grab food on the way home from the studio together. 

Your marriage, as tumultuous and heartbreaking as it had been, seems a distant memory now. The ashes from what once was have provided soil for the two of you to build a new, healthy friendship on. You feel thankful for that.

Thankful to still have Aemond in your life.

Being friends suits him. 

He’s opened up far more in these past few weeks to you than he had during the entirety of your futile relationship. 

He acredits it to the therapy and anger management he’d done, but you sense a real shift within him. 

He tells you about Alys; how he met her and how they developed a kind of friends with benefits dynamic as he longed for intimacy and she became his manager. 

Though you can vividly remember him calling her his ‘girlfriend’, he apparently hadn’t made that clear with her, and when he asked her to come on tour with him, a childish attempt at making you jealous, you presume, she’d patted him on the cheek and explained that though he’d been a fun fuck, she didn’t have time for a partner. 

He says that in retrospect, her not having any romantic feelings for him must’ve been a blessing, since he was only using her for selfish fulfilment himself. 

He tells you about Aegon; how they hadn’t spoken all summer, until Aemond reached out to properly apologise, a crucial part of the anger management program. 

Aegon, inspired by Aemond’s dedication to sort out his inner demons, had decided on a fourth trip to rehab. By now, he’s stayed sober for longer than ever before.

Aemond says that he’s made a habit of bringing his brother out hiking, trekking the vast landscape of the Reach. 

Sometimes during those long walks, they’d talk over each other, engaging in passionate discussion about everything and anything. Other times, they walk in comfortable silence, simply existing together. 

It’s nice seeing your ex husband so content. 

The bitterness you first felt at his dilatory introspection has been replaced by admiration; impressed by his dedication to be better. 

Somewhere inside, the wound of the past bleeds less and less. 

Perhaps this is how you were always meant to be? 

Friends. 

The realisation is bitter, but you’ve grown used to the taste on your tongue. 

You made the right decision. 

It’s almost midwinter when Aemond asks you to come over to your old flat one Sunday morning. 

Apparently he’s in the process of subletting the place, and needs help removing any personal belongings. 

It’s strange being back, already foreign and distant, yet still so familiar. 

“I’ve put some of your stuff in the guest bedroom”

Aemond gestures for you to follow him as you step inside. 

Like you don’t know where it is.

You follow him, watching as he opens the wardrobe, stepping to the side to invite you in. 

True to his perfectionist nature, your things are neatly organised, hanging in tidy rows. 

Some of your clothes, two coats, a vase you’d gotten from Alicent on your birthday, a jewellery box. Mostly gifts you received from Aemond, too painful for you to bring with you when you left all those months ago.

Maybe now you’re finally ready to look at the relics of your broken marriage with fondness, reminiscent of the love you once shared. 

As you inspect the wardrobe, you notice an old box tucked in one corner, edges worn down and structure almost caving in. 

You pick it up and open the lid, surprised to find the picture collage you’d made for him on your six month anniversary inside, along with a few other memorabilia from your relationship.

Two tickets to the cinema, a pub receipt, an ugly doodle of Aemond you drew as a joke. 

“What’s this?”, you ask as your hands rummage through the content of the box.

Aemond looks up from the moving box he’d been hunched in front of, eyes going wide when he sees what’s in your hand. 

“You can just put that back”, he quickly replies, face growing a bit pink. 

“I can just move this to the trash as well”, you say and shift towards the big, black bin bag in the corner. 

“That’s alright. I-, I want to keep it”, he mumbles quietly and stands up, towering over you as he takes the box from your hands. 

Your eyes dart from the frame with the pictures you’d made for him to his face, not quite sure why he wants to keep such trivial things. 

“I want to keep the memories” 

He puts the lid back on the box, bends down to place it on the floor, and pushes it towards the back of the closet using his foot. 

There’s something in the air that causes the mood to shift. It’s like a thick fog has settled over the room, sticking in your lungs whenever you breathe. 

“The good old days”, you joke stiffly, trying to chase the uncomfortable tension away. 

Aemond’s standing with his back against you, facing the closet. He hums in reply at your attempted humour. 

“Everything was so easy back then”, you sigh, moving to grab one of the coats hanging next to where he stands. 

He’s stiff as he turns to you, watching as you carefully examine the coat, pondering whether you should keep it or not. 

“I-”, Aemond starts before he stops himself, appearing to be lost in thought,

“I’d try every day to make it easy for you. To love me, I mean” 

Your head snaps to the side. His confession hits you with such force, it’s almost physical, and now it’s your turn to be lost for words. 

“Oh, Aemond”, you choke out as you take in the sad frown his face is set in,

“It was never hard loving you. It was hard being loved by you”

“I know”

One of his hands moves carefully towards you. When you don’t back away from him, he takes the opportunity to place it on your cheek. 

You can feel the way his hand trembles against your skin despite how gentle his touch is.  

“I can’t promise that it’ll always be easy. But I still love you as much as I did back then. I know I shouldn’t but I need to-” he licks his lips as he’s searching for the right words, 

“I need to ask you again. Will you take me back?”

His stare is intense as he carefully evaluates your reaction. You still can’t find your voice, stuck in your throat in shock. 

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I don’t want anyone-, anything else. I’ll do anything for you. Please take me back”, he begs, voice cracking at the end of his plea. 

The hand he’s placed on your cheek feels like it’s burning an imprint onto your skin. 

You’ve never seen him like this before. 

So open; heart on display, laid out in the hand he’s now offering you.

It’s all yours. 

He hurt you so much during your time together. 

He made life so hard for you. 

He made you feel alive. 

Would it be worth it; possibly being hurt again?

Feeling alive again. 

You bring your hand up to his cheek, mirroring how he’s cradling your face. 

Alive. 

Aemond’s POV

When she tilts her head up, leans forward and pulls his face closer to hers, he almost lets out a relieved cry. 

Kissing her again feels like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. 

It’s so relieving it hurts. 

Even when he has to leave her lips to breathe, he presses his face against hers, desperate for the contact. 

He can’t be apart from her warmth for even a second longer. 

Her arms meet around his neck, keeping him close as her breath heats up the skin of his face. 

He’s robbed himself of this for months. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for that. for allowing her to slip away. 

He searches for her mouth again, kissing her as if she could breathe life into his lungs and revive his numb heart. 

His hands can’t decide if they want to touch every part of her being, or hold her so close they melt into one. 

She presses herself against him, kissing him back with just as much vigour. 

The thought that she’s missed him makes him want to weep. 

“I love you”, he says between pants as he moves his lips from hers, trailing down to kiss her neck. 

Her hands grab the back of his shirt and she lets out a moan when his lips find the patch right beneath her ear she loves so much. 

She pulls him downwards, onto the floor, and offers him a giggle as she straddles him. 

Her fingers come down to help him unbutton his trousers, just as eager for him as he is for her. 

He feels tears burn behind his eyelids again. 

Finally. 

He can hardly contain himself as his fingers clumsily search for the buttons of his jeans to aid her in getting them off. He is so impatient, so eager for her, that his hands shake from desire. 

His soul is finally soothed when she sinks down on him. 

He’s consumed by her. 

When she begins to move, the grip of her cunt around him indicates that this won’t last long. But that’s alright. It won’t be the last time. 

He surges forward to kiss her again, to let her know how grateful he is. 

That she came back to him. 

That she’s offered him her warmth once again. 

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for reading! ❤️

A very special thank you(!) to Justine @theoneeyedprince who've helped me by beta-ing this fic. You are truly a gem, so wonderfully supportive of me and I appreciate you so, so very much. Besides being an absolute legend of a friend, Justine's also an immensely talented writer. If you're eager to read more modern heartbreak, check out her story Careless Whisper - it's so good! ❤️

[mellowsaturns]

for you, anything

JOEL MILLER X READER

summary: joel do what he does best, smuggling and taking care of you

warnings: fluff, soft!joel, domesticity, established relationship, reader caught a cold, sick fic

wc: 900

—

After spending years and years fighting to survive a cordyceps apocalypse and tolerating a totalitarian government regime, you were no stranger to hardship. But it seemed like one thing has finally gotten to you, something that had you weak and bedridden for days now, something so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it happened—you had managed to catch a common cold.

Okay, maybe you were being a little dramatic, but the combination of a sore throat, the inability to breathe, the stuffy nose and constant chills was making you feel awful.

The door opens and on a normal day, you would’ve been alert and ready for any potential intruders but you had no energy left and besides, you knew who it was just by the creaks of the floorboard.

You peek out from the corner of your eyes and Joel was leaning against the wall at the end of your bed, looking at you in pity.

“Shut up,” you groaned, pulling the thin blanket over your head.

That garnered a small chuckle from him. “Didn’t even say anything,” he said.

“You didn’t need to,” you murmured.

Feeling the bed dip with his pressure, he pulled the cover away. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like shit,” you replied as he brought his hand up to feel your forehead. “I can feel a major headache forming,” you added with a pout.

“Poor baby,” he cooed.

You gave him a weak punch in the arm. “You dick, if you’re here to make fun of me just leave.”

He snickered for a bit, clearly enjoying this before mellowing. “Here,” he said, handing you a paper bag you didn’t even know he was holding.

Raising an eyebrow in suspicion you took a peek inside. “Joel,” you gasped, “How did you manage to get these?”

Because inside the bag were different envelopes of white pills and packets of powdered electrolytes, everything you needed to help you get through a cold—probably way past its expiration date, but still, these were highly prized. You would have had to work months just to get enough rations for these items. And Joel just handed you these…

“Are you seriously questioning my skills?”

You scoffed. “No. But you really didn’t have to get all these for me. I would have gotten better with time.” And you know that he knows it too, but he still got these things for you because he knew it would help alleviate the pain even if it was for a little bit. And no matter how much he downplays it, you know how hard it must’ve been for him to get these items. You know because you’re in this business with him.

You couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at your lips. “But… Thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me.” For always taking care of me.

He hummed and looked away, embarrassed at the gratitude you were giving him. Getting up, he headed to the living room and grabbed you a bottle of water.

“Let me,” he offered, before placing the bottle on your bedside and helping you sit straight. He popped the medicine onto your palm and you swallowed them down. And maybe it was the placebo effect but you were feeling better already—or maybe it was just the fact that Joel was here.

Sometimes, he really was the best medicine.

Suddenly, he pulled out something from his pocket. “Here.”

You frowned in confusion before a surprised expression spread all over. “Joel…” you whispered.

Turning the package in your hand, you examined its content and the slight wrinkles of the plastic. He had managed to find you a bag of those hard fruity candies that you once loved when the world wasn’t in ruins—something you had forgotten until now. Something meaningless you told him all those years ago when you first got to know each other and reminisced about the good old days.

You wanted to cry. He went through all this effort just to make your life a little easier and joyful when you know it made his life a little harder.

When you looked up at him, he gave you a shy smile. “Thought it might make you happy.”

You were beaming. And if you weren’t sick, you’d kiss him.

He started taking off his shoes when you stopped him. “Joel, I’m sick.”

He scoffed, as if you said something absurd. “Move over,” he grunted, hogging the spot next to you and getting underneath the covers.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

“I kinda miss this you know,” you whispered. Because even though you were wrapped in his jacket he gave you a few days ago, in which he insisted you wear because your blanket was too thin, it just wasn’t the same.

He made a noise in agreement and minutes later, he was snoring.

It’s been three days since you caught a cold, hence, three days since you’ve been fully in his presence. It only occurred to you now that he didn’t stay away because he was scared of catching it, but that he spent all that time working and doing what he does best. All because of you—all for you.

All you could do was admire him as moonlight gently graced the features of his face.

When you got better, you’d give him that kiss he deserved.

[ohbueckers]

TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. i just wanna get to know you, guess i didn’t quite think it through.

CHAPTER TWO! pairing, paige bueckers x fem!oc. notes, thank you guys for all the love on the first part!!! it only made me more excited for this rollercoaster fr... here’s part two 🫦 not proofread… warnings, injury and the angst with that!

july, 2022

it had been a few weeks since sana’s first practice, and things had shifted between her and paige—though not entirely for the better or worse.

the sun had been setting over the outdoor court. it was one of those perfect summer nights where the heat had finally loosened its grip and mellowed to something more bearable. the team had migrated outside because the gym’s ac was busted, and this hangout—just a casual run, really—felt different. lighter. less pressure.

azzi had brought a speaker, blasting music that set the tone for the evening. most of the girls had left to grab pizza and bring it back, but a few stayed behind, shooting around, lounging on the benches, laughing and talking.

sana had blended in perfectly with the huskies these past few weeks, getting along especially well with nika, azzi, and caroline. nika, in particular, had taken a liking to her no-nonsense attitude, and let’s just say practice was a pain in the ass for their coaches when they weren’t entirely focused. when nika made a joke, sana was always there to back it up, making it ten times funnier. you can also say that paige caught most of these strays.

the rest of the team seemed to quickly hop on the sana train themselves. she was a perfectionist in a way that wasn’t overbearing, and it was why her game was so good in the first place. she made everyone around her better by just being herself, and it showed. but even so, she’d built rapport with most of them, save for one notable exception.

paige bueckers, of course.

paige, who had spent the last few weeks vacillating between subtle irritation and begrudging respect when it came to sana. there were moments where she’d find herself looking and wondering why she couldn’t just relax, couldn’t just click with her the way she did with everyone else. if it wasn’t exactly hate, then what was it?

they weren’t at each other’s throats, in fact, the first day of practice was probably as hostile as it had ever gotten between them. sana was mature enough to the point where she wouldn’t let it get that far, but always pushed it borderline to the edge. every interaction was like a test, some back-and-fourth exchange that only left paige to think what the fuck sana even meant by what she’d just said, because she swore there was some bigger meaning.

the first few weeks had been like that. testing boundaries. sana with her measured responses, and paige with her quick retorts and lingering glances in which she always denied, kinda like right now.

paige was standing near the sideline, pretending to dribble aimlessly while keeping a very subtle eye on sana, who had moved to grab a drink of water at the other end of the court. it was unintentional—at least that’s what she told herself—but her eyes always seemed to find their way back to her, no matter where she was.

the blonde found herself noticing other things, things she had no business noticing for the amount of times she’s actually had a conversation with the girl that didn’t include some type of jab. the way sana’s smile tilted just a bit when she was being sarcastic, the way her eyes narrowed slightly when she was focused. paige hated that she noticed those things—hated that sana was in her head at all.

nika, who had been watching the whole thing with a growing smirk, sauntered over to paige, draping an arm over her shoulders. “you know, if you’re gonna keep staring, at least make it less obvious.”

paige elbowed her in the side, pushing the brunette off of her with a smug smirk. “you can shut up.”

nika stumbled back dramatically, clutching her side as if paige had actually hurt her. “damn, alright!” she laughed, tossing her ponytail behind her head. “but seriously, i thought this was just a first day thing. shouldn’t the transfer aftershock be well over by now?”

paige rolled her eyes, licking her lips as more of a habit than necessity as she began dribbling the basketball again. she kept her head down, focusing on the sound against the pavement as she passed from hand to hand, sliding the ball between her legs a few times too. “there’s nothing to get over.”

“sure, sure,” nika said, her grin wide, as if she didn’t believe a single word. her eyes flicked between paige and the far end of the court, where sana had just finished downing half a water bottle, her shoulders rising and falling. she then looked at azzi, who had been making her way back over from messing with the songs on her playlist.

of course her best friend had noticed too.

“wait, what are we talking about? paige and sana?” azzi threw out as if she’d been dying to talk about it for a hot minute. “because you have got a terrible poker face,” the curly-haired girl pointed at paige, the comment sending nika into a fit of snickers that had her hunching over.

paige’s head whipped to her. “nah, you can chill too,” she said, pointing at azzi with mock exasperation. “and it’s not that funny,” paige deadpanned, although she couldn’t bite back her smirk for the life of her.

nika straightened up, giving paige a faux serious look as she tilted her head back thoughtfully. “okay, sure you don’t wanna tell her how good she looks in navy?”

and well, it only made the blonde more upset that she did indeed look too good in that damn navy workout tee.

“i ain’t even lookin’ at her like that,” paige said, too defensive way too quickly. she punctuated her response with a cheesy grin, the type she used to play it cool while her insides were knotting up.

“really? cause you’ve got that whole wistful longing look on lock down.” nika gave her a look herself, a long one that made the blonde semi-uncomfortable. the brunette was reading her to filth, but paige had came to the conclusion awhile ago that nothing could happen if the feelings weren’t reciprocated. nothing would happen.

“wistful?” paige stared, shaking her head. “she hates me.”

nika raised her eyebrows, jerking her head back. “oh! so you’re saying you’d crush if she didn’t hate you?”

paige huffed out a laugh, scrunching her face up as she let the ball roll to a stop under her foot. “crush is actually crazy, nika.”

“eh, not entirely,” azzi chimed in, her eyes gleaming with that ‘i see you’ look. nika practically jumped for joy at the backup, like it was a victory to have someone else on her side. clearly, she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

paige groaned internally, feeling cornered and slightly taken aback. “y’all think i have no self-control? we’re teammates.”

nika crossed her arms, smirking. “i’m praying that you do.”

paige paused for a second, brain tripping over nika’s words. that’s what everyone thought, right? that they were just teammates, that the line couldn’t be crossed. she kept telling herself that too—telling herself that all these games, all the heat, and tension between her and sana would eventually fizzle out because it had to. because it was supposed to.

“let’s be real for a second,” azzi said, looking down as she searched for the right words. she had a ball tucked underneath her arm. “if anything did happen between y’all—and i’m not saying it will—” she shot paige a pointed look, one that told her to not get defensive and cut her off. “—it’d throw the whole team off balance.”

“i know!” the blonde cut in, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “but that’s not even on the table. nothing’s gonna happen.” she felt like she was convincing herself more than anyone else.

nika shrugged. “i mean, you say that now, but feelings are weird. and they don’t care about what’s allowed.”

paige stayed quiet for a second, turning over the idea. they don’t care about what’s allowed. feelings don’t care about what you’ve got going on, they just seep their way in.

she knew the rules, of course—both the ones the coaching staff had laid out and the unspoken ones. she couldn’t let this thing, whatever it was, turn into more. it wasn’t just about her or sana. it was about the team. the season. the future. the problem was that knowing that didn’t make the tension between them any less real. or maybe it was all in her head.

they don’t care about what’s allowed.

just as paige was about to respond, sana, oblivious—or pretending to be—was making her way back over to the group, the lazy saunter in her step practically designed to test paige’s patience. she straightened up instinctively, breathing in all straight-faced as she leaned over to pick up the ball from the ground.

“i brought friends,” she announced, caroline and ice stalking behind her. “what are you guys so serious about?” sana then asked, her eyes shifting between nika and azzi before landing on paige, as if her comment was more directed at the blonde. the question felt a little too casual, like sana had noticed how much less at ease paige was compared to just a few moments ago before she’d left.

“uh,” paige cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, feeling uncharacteristically off-balance. “we were just…talkin’ about the team.”

nika stared at her friend in actual disbelief. she was stuttering, and normally she’d jump to make fun of her for it, but she wanted to observe how this would play out. her answer was vague, sure, but it was the best she could come up with on the spot. paige wasn’t used to being caught off guard, especially not by sana. their interactions—when they did happen—were usually trash talk that was easy to brush off in the moment but lingered with her long after. but right now, there was something about sana’s direct attention that had her fumbling.

meanwhile, sana caught the hesitation in paige’s voice. she tilted her head ever so slightly, her smirk growing a little wider. paige stuttering? that was a first.

paige never stuttered.

ice broke the brief silence with a laugh. “are we playin’ or what?”

paige, determined to regain her footing, grinned and stepped back, dribbling the ball lazily between her legs as she walked backward. her eyes stayed locked on sana’s, her confidence slowly returning. “we’ll start,” she said, her voice a little lower now, challenging. “just don’t be mad when i drop 30 on you.”

sana’s smirk didn’t falter. she strolled closer, her hands clasped behind her back. “oh, you think you’re actually gonna score on me? i didn’t even know you had jokes like that.”

paige scrunched her face up, half from the setting sun taking over her eyesight, and half in disbelief. “i got more than just jokes,” she shot back, continuing to walk backward, her grin widening as she bounced the ball from hand to hand. “you ready to see?”

“i’m ready for you to see,” sana countered. her eyes moved down to the ball for a second before rising to meet paige’s again. then maybe to her perfectly parted pink lips, but then to her eyes again. “you’ll be the one sitting down after this.”

azzi, watching the scene unfold alongside everyone else, couldn’t hold back any longer. “double meaning,” she muttered under her breath, making nika nearly lose it beside her, biting her lip to keep from laughing too loudly.

sana’s gaze briefly moved toward azzi, catching the comment even though it was quiet. for a split second, her confident smirk faltered, and she narrowed her eyes at paige. “what were you talking about before i came back?” she asked, and the blonde should’ve known sana of all people would ask even if she had the slightest feeling it was about her. she was confrontational.

paige felt the shift immediately, recognizing that azzi’s offhand comment had landed. but instead of backing down, she kept her cool, though her heart was beating a little faster. “nothin’ you can’t handle,” she replied, her tone smug as she kept dribbling.

sana paused, tilting her head as she always did as if she was trying to piece everything together. “you guys talking about me?”

paige hesitated for half a second, barely noticeable to anyone except herself. “paranoid?”

“curious.”

paige licked her lips, holding her ground. “i said it was nothin’ you can’t handle, remember?”

sana’s smirk shifted, becoming a little sharper as she moved just close enough to make her presence felt. “right,” she said slowly, as if she didn’t believe her. “just wondering if i’m that interesting.”

the blonde’s eyes narrowed, fingers tightening around the basketball. “only when you talk too much.” she smiled, a wide one that left sana actually laughing as she pushed at her shoulder with two hands.

“shut up.”

paige stumbled back slightly, more out of performance than anything else, her grin never faltering. “you love to hate me, don’t you?”

sana blinked, clearly thrown, and for a moment paige had thought she’d pushed too far. crossed some invisible line she couldn’t quite see. but what she wasn’t ready for was the simple, almost quiet reply that followed. in fact, sana cursed herself for how vulnerable she sounded, that her mind felt the need to make it known to paige.

“i don’t hate you.”

and well, paige was thrown too.

august, 2022

you could’ve asked paige bueckers two weeks ago where she’d be today, right now, and it would be nowhere along the lines of sitting hopelessly in her bed with a torn acl injury. two weeks ago, she was at practice, thinking about championships, the first game all the way in november, and how invincible they’d be this season. two weeks ago, everything made sense.

now, nothing did.

she stared at the ceiling, the weight of the brace on her knee acting like a reminder she couldn’t shake off. the ache wasn’t just physical—it was deep, gnawing at her, like she’d lost a part of herself. this wasn’t supposed to happen. not to her. and now, she couldn’t even walk without wincing.

her phone vibrated with a text from her mom, the same encouraging words she’d gotten since the surgery: “you’re strong, paige. you’ll get through this.”

she knew her family meant well, but the truth was, they weren’t here. they weren’t the ones stuck in this room, feeling like the walls were closing in. they weren’t the ones who had to deal with the brutal reality of an injury that would change everything. they came through, sure—reassured her, gave her hugs, gifts, and pep talks, but then they left. they had lives to return to, jobs, obligations. paige was left here, marooned on campus, staring at a future she couldn’t control.

she hadn’t even been able to bring herself to watch the replay of the moment it happened. the wrong landing, the sharp twist, the way she knew immediately that something was off. the doctor’s words played on a loop in her head: “it’s a torn acl, paige. you’re gonna need surgery.” it was like they were speaking in slow motion, but time sped up so quickly after that. surgery dates just days after, recovery plans, the end of everything she’d been working for—at least for the season, maybe more.

how did this happen so fast?

she let out a breath, reaching for the bottle of water on her bedside table. caroline had been a constant, at least. she’d stuck around, even when she could’ve gone home to her family, to summer plans that didn’t involve taking care of her friend. the blonde was grateful, but there was a part of her that felt…resentful. she didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, and yet, here she was.

the door creaked open, and paige looked up, expecting caroline to walk in with her usual easy smile. but it wasn’t caroline.

it was sana.

paige’s brows furrowed. she didn’t expect to see her until practices started up again, let alone here, on campus, in the middle of summer. her hair was braided into two neat french braids, her skin glowing like she hadn’t just been dealing with whatever hell life had thrown at her.

“sana… what’re you doing here?” paige asked, more bluntly than she intended. there was a part of her that didn’t trust this—sana showing up out of nowhere, like she cared. she’d checked in alongside the rest of the team, yes, but to show up? it was an entirely different story.

sana shrugged, her usual confidence slightly muted. “i thought i’d check in.” she didn’t sit down, didn’t drop her bag. she lingered near the doorway, like she wasn’t sure if she should stay.

paige stared at her, suddenly a little self-conscious that sana had been seeing her like this, her knee propped up on a stack of pillows caroline had set up for her. she didn’t know why. “thought you’d be enjoying your summer.”

sana’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering for just a second before she shrugged again, more casually this time. “not much to enjoy back home.”

paige felt that. but she wasn’t about to let her guard down just because sana had decided to play the good teammate card. “what, your family didn’t want you back?” she asked, half-joking, half-serious.

sana’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and paige caught it. ah, she thought. there it was—something deeper. something that made her just as messed up inside as paige felt right now.

“they weren’t exactly throwing a party for my return,” sana said, leaning against the wall now, arms crossed over her chest. she avoided eye contact, and paige suddenly felt like an asshole for pressing.

“everybody’s got their shit right now then, huh?” paige muttered, sighing as she leaned back against the her headboard.

sana glanced at her, a small smirk playing on her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “yeah, something like that.” she finally moved from the doorway, settling on the chair across the room. there was still distance between them, but it was the closest they’d ever gotten to having a multi-layered conversation, something that unlocked all of the fronts sana had put up.

paige shifted slightly, watching her. the tension between them, however, was still there—longing, unspoken things neither of them seemed ready to admit, but for once, it felt like they weren’t playing a game. paige didn’t know if she could handle another layer of uncertainty in her life right now, but this? it felt different. on the other hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling that sana was here out of obligation rather than choice.

“why’d you really come?” paige asked, her voice softer now.

sana met her eyes, a set of absolutely exhausted blue hues. “i know we’re not exactly best friends, but it felt like the right thing to do,” she huffed out.

paige couldn’t help but smirk, and sana had seen that look before. she furrowed her eyebrows, already sensing the shift. “what?” she asked, her hands gesturing in a way that made it clear she wasn’t about to play along with whatever paige was thinking.

her smirk widened. “who knew all it would take is me getting injured for you to stop hating me.”

sana’s reaction was immediate. her lips parted slightly, and she gave a little shake of her head, almost as if she couldn’t believe the words had just come out of paige’s mouth. “i told you i didn’t hate you, p. i’ve never hated you.” the words came out firm, but not defensive.

“you do know you act like it though, right?” she was almost pleading for honesty at this point. “before your transfer. you never even looked my way.”

sana blinked, her posture stiffening slightly. it wasn’t like paige to push like this, to dig beneath the surface. and she definitely hadn’t expected to come here and admit so much, but maybe all they needed was to be sat down in a room together. no noise, no basketball. still, sana couldn’t help the way her defenses rose instinctively. “i didn’t have to look your way,” she said, but there was no bite to her words. it was more of an explanation, a little tired and raw. “everyone already was.”

paige didn’t move, just blinked. “except you.”

sana opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. she wasn’t sure how to explain it—to put into words why she had kept her distance. why she acted like paige didn’t exist, like she wasn’t the one person who’d always gotten under her skin without even trying.

“i don’t know,” sana finally admitted. “i guess… i didn’t want to.”

paige raised an eyebrow. “didn’t want to?”

she let out a breath, leaning forward slightly as if the weight of her thoughts was too much to bear while sitting back. “i’m just competitive. i push myself hard, and you’re one of the best. it’s not hate; it’s just… i don’t know. maybe i was trying to keep up with you.”

sana caruso had said she didn’t know two times practically within the same breath. for the first time, she’d seen the girl actually be unsure of something, unsure about her.

“and i’ve never hated you,” sana repeated, locking eyes with paige as if she needed her to really feel it. “i admire you, actually.”

was this real life?

“i guess i always thought you were untouchable,” paige confessed, mainly because it felt right. “like, you had everything figured out. and here i am, sitting on the sidelines while you about to be out there thriving.” she could’ve chuckled at the thought.

sana shook her head, the playful bravado she usually wore like armor slipping away. “you have no idea how often i felt like i was just pretending. like i was always one mistake away from everyone realizing i wasn’t as good as they thought.”

for a moment, paige didn’t know what to say. it was almost laughable—how similar they were in all the ways that mattered, but neither of them had seen it until now.

“i get that,” she finally said, her voice stripped of its usual humor. “i get it more than you think. i feel like i’ve already made that mistake.”

sana’s eyes softened, and there was an understanding that hadn’t been there before. and for the first time in what felt like forever, paige didn’t feel so alone. she felt seen. by sana, of all people.

“you’ll be back on the court before you know it,” sana said, her voice a little brighter now. she could tell paige had been getting in her head about the injury again, and although she hadn’t experienced something as life-changing as that, she could be there for her. “i can’t wait to see you kick everyone’s ass again.”

paige let out a breath, a laugh breaking through her chest, light but full of relief. “and you’re gonna get our team that chip.”

and sana smiled. at paige.

our team.

[whomst-the-hell]

The babysitters’ club, as the older members of the upside down crew have dubbed themselves, meet at least once a week. Sometimes it’s only a few hours, just long enough to watch a movie together, to confirm that everyone is still alive and coping. Sometimes it’s all night, and Argyle plies them all with good California weed while they attempt to work through their collective truckloads of trauma.

Sometimes, like tonight, they spend it goofing off and having fun like the dumb kids many of them couldn’t afford to be.

They’re gathered in a circle at the Harrington mansion, deserted as always, playing truth or dare. Nancy has just admitted to smoking weed in her freshman year, in the drama room with Barbara Holland, and she has set her know it all, meddling, journalist eyes on Eddie.

“Truth or dare,” she asks, a challenge clear on her face.

Eddie knows that, with most people, picking truth may be seen as the cowardly option. With Nancy, that couldn’t be more wrong. If he picks dare, he will be safe, but he will be mocked relentlessly by every single person in the room.

…

“Truth,” he sighs reluctantly.

��Who-” she pauses dramatically for effect, a theatrical detail that Eddie honestly respects, even if it fills him with dread, “-was your most embarrassing crush! And it has to be a person we know, no celebrities allowed!”

Shit.

He feels his eyes dart to Steve. Nancy smirks. Bitch. He can’t even lie about it then.

Time to face the music, he supposes mournfully.

“I would like to say, for the record, that I was in junior year, ok. And, in retrospect, with the knowledge I have now, it’s not even that bad, but at the time-“

“Spit it out, Munson,” says Robin, the fucking traitor.

“IhadacrushonSteve,” he says, all in one breath.

“What was that, dude, I didn’t catch it?” Argyle says, voice mellow. Eddie honestly doesn’t know if he’s in on this or not, but he glowers all the same.

Face red, he repeats, “I had a crush on Steve.” He resolutely does not look at Steve.

“No you didn’t!” Steve responds, immediately, aghast.

Eddie can feel his heart tearing in two.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, this was years ag-“

“You literally rejected me!”

Fucking what.

He knows he must look ridiculous right now, mouth hanging open, cheeks still red with embarrassment, but he does not have the capacity to care.

“Wh- what do you- huh?” he finally manages.

“When you were in junior year, and I was a sophomore? We were lab partners-“

And ohhh, hadn’t that just been sweet, sweet torture. Pretty, perfect Harrington had had to sit next to him all semester, where Eddie could see his freckles and smell his cologne, but-

“You spent the whole semester making fun of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” says Steve, eyebrows furrowed in that way he does that makes Eddie want to kiss his forehead and- Fucking focus, Munson.

“You always used to make passive aggressive comments about my clothes, or my hair, or my books or whatever!”

Steve buries his face in his hands and groans.

“I wasn’t being passive aggressive.”

“You- what the fuck do you mean, you weren’t being passive aggressive! Why else would you have said any of that shit?”

“Because I meant it?”

Because he- what? Eddie played back as many of their interactions from that year as he could remember. I like your jacket, Steve had said when Eddie had started putting patches on his denim vest. Your hair looks nice today, he had said when Eddie had tied it back to beat the heat. Oh, that sounds interesting, when Eddie described the plot of the book he was reading.

“Oh my god, you were flirting with me.”

“No shit! I once told you you had really pretty eyes!“

“I thought you were bullying me!”

“How on Earth could ‘I think you have really pretty eyes’ be bullying?”

“I don’t know! It made more sense than it being flirting!”

“I asked you to go to the drive in with me! That is the most classic first date in the book!”

Holy shit, Steve Harrington had asked him out. Steve Harrington had asked him out and he’d said no. This was the worst day of Eddie’s life.

His face must have looked some kind of way, because Steve just groaned again. He sat there for a second before peeking up from behind his hands, a move that should not have been as cute as it was, what the fuck.

“If I tried again now, would you still think I was bullying you.”

Holy shit did Steve Harrington want to date him? This had to be a trick or a prank or something, right?

Except that he’d thought that in junior year as well, and apparently it had cost him a boyfriend, so.

“No- nope, I would definitely pick up on it, uh huh. Definitely,” he said in a rush. God, he was normally so good with words, fuck.

Steve emerged fully from his hands, face pink but expression determined.

“Eddie Munson, would you like to go to the drive in with me? They’re playing Jaws next saturday and I’d love to watch it with you.”

“Absolutely, Stevie. It’s a date.”

There are groans from the rest of their friends as they rifle through their pockets, each passing money to a very smug looking Nancy.

[postersofleon]

all of the different leons (video games)

re2 og:

he is terribly cocky. he struggles to let you do things without him, but you always show him you can. this fucking loser fell in love with you in the first sight, he feels holding hands are for losers, but the idiot cups your face. he wants to a manly man, a typical alpha bullshit, but he turns into a puddle when you kiss his nose. very defensive of you. he wishes to be you scary dog privileges, but he often times forgets he is too pretty. if you accidentally do something like, really stupid, he is still on your side even if you are wrong. very over dramatic, "do you even love me?" you know he is just asking you this to annoy you. like this isn't him being insecure. he just loves attention.

re4 og:

still cocky as hell. he is annoying as hell. he is always trying to make you laugh. you listen to his music as he drives his car. he tries to have you in his lap, but you always get off... for reasons. (he is always touching you and muttering dirty jokes) squeezes your butt if you are too close to him. your legs are on top of his while you sit together. if you are peeling an orange, he opens his mouth, and you give it to him. loves to talk shit of others with you.

basically, this is him and you (the one that matches your vibe)

re6:

he is a bit more mellowed out from how he started. he is silently begging for touches. he looks all serious and shit while having hugging you. he likes you playing with his hair while at home. he is grumpy as hell around all people, but you. you try to take away his alcohol, he rolls his eyes, but he kinda stops (when you are looking). he doesn't really mind your head resting on his shoulder. he is very silent but very loving. he wants to break up with you because he feels too broken, but you are helping him.

re2 remake:

not to baby him, but he is lovely. he is very kind and respectful. for him, it took time to fall in love, and it's fine. huge difference from re2 and re2 remake; leon remake trusts you more with yourself. he knows and trusts. leon holds hands. he slowly opens himself to you, and this fool blushes when he kisses your cheek. it's completely puppy love. he speaks in such an enamored way. leon hates it when you put your cold feet on his back, but he's your human heater.

re4 remake:

clingy as hell in private. if he is far from you, he immediately hugs you and raises you a bit as he twirled you around his arms. but once people come along, he tries to relax, though he is still clinging. leon is a silent person who makes quips every once in a while, he noticed how much you like them, and he smiles. if you suck at hiding your facial reactions, leon does too, so you two accidentally look like a judgment couple. you sometimes steal his chapstick, but he doesn't mind.

[joocomics]

warm like the sun

day 6 — temperature play w/ jooyeon ⌞⌗ kinktober ⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 boxer!jooyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.7k

contains: established relationship, soft dom!reader, sub!jooyeon, oil massage (m!rec), sensation play, temperature play, handjob, pet names, dirty talk

[ kinktober masterlist | general masterlist ]

Jooyeon breathes in, deeply and slowly, as he gets more and more enveloped in the soothing scent. The rich herbal aroma wraps his body like a comfy blanket, but also relaxes his mind as you focus your touch on his upper back.

He’s laying down on his stomach, face pressed against the mattress while your gentle hands glide over his broad shoulders and squeeze with a nice grip that has him hum delightfully from time to time. His sore muscles feel not so irritating as they did before while he was at the boxing gym.

You strictly follow all of the instructions you read on the internet - you massage the hot oil into the skin using circular strokes to reduce tension, and you work the neck, shoulders and upper back first before moving onto larger parts such as arms, legs and lower back. Judging by his blissful state, you're doing something right.

“You did so well today.” You lean a bit as you straddle Jooyeon's hips, letting your hands slide down his back before going up again. At this point, they’re almost burning from the natural oil as you keep rubbing it into his soft skin. “Feeling a bit better now?”

He almost didn’t hear your mellow voice since he’s so close to falling asleep.

“Yeah, thanks, baby.” He murmurs. Keeping his eyes shut, he focuses on your body movements on top of him, and the temperature that’s only rising higher. “I’ve recorded some of it so we’ll see how I feel about it after I watch it.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You say as you keep your voice low before grabbing the bottle next to you. You spill some oil in your palm and resume to free him from all pressure. “You’re improving every day, enjoy the process.”

Jooyeon’s face frowns for a second when you press against one spot at his left shoulder, but quickly forms a lazy smile once he hears your words.

“Wise princess.” He comments slowly. “Baby, this is so hot.”

Your hands slow down the pace until they stop completely on his waist before you move to kneel on the mattress.

“The oil…” He adds, still sounding half-asleep. “It’s too hot.”

“That’s the point, Joo.” You explain with a cheeky smile, amused at your own assumptions. “You can turn around now.” You playfully pat his butt and watch him struggle to flip on his back.

The towel underneath him messes up and the sheets are now getting stained from the oil as he gets comfortable, but you decide to ignore that. You lay eyes on him as he rests one hand on his forehead after running it through his chestnut colored hair. It’s a mess, but it only makes him even more enjoyable to stare at. His knuckles are still a bit bruised with reddish hues you’ve already kissed multiple times.

“Is this supposed to burn?” He asks slightly opening his eyes with comedic suspicion.

“Just a little,” you reply after straddling his lap again. The material of his sports shorts creates muffled sounds beneath you as you adjust. “But you’re mostly just being dramatic.”

“No, I kinda like it actually.” He smirks, but just a second later his lips part in a gasp that doesn’t come out as your palms slowly start to travel up his chest. They slowly close together when you reach for his neck. “Mmm..”

Your touch roams around, wet and hot; so warm that he’s convinced there’s no place in his body that isn’t burning up right now. He stays with eyes shut, enjoying the unfamiliar sensation, the powerful earthy scent that makes his brain fuzzy.

Your fingertips brush over his nipples and you finally see a reaction from him when your thumbs tease them with one or two circling motions.

“Miss,” he speaks out, centring his head so he can look at you, “is this a part of the procedure?”

You grin at the playful spark in his eye. His cheeks have earned a cute pink blush and he looks so attractive you cannot look away.

“I do it for special clients only,” you tease back, and to make sure you’re sensing it right… you grind against the stiff bump beneath your crotch which causes his smirk to grow with zero shame. “Really, baby?”

“If you were a guy getting a massage from your hot girlfriend you’d get hard too.”

Your hands don’t stop gliding around as you tease each other. The oils are soaking into his heated skin and the effects are obvious to you, but you’re not sure if they’re obvious to Jooyeon. The comforting fragrance in the room in addition to the hot stimulation lingering on his body, spread by your two loving hands turns him on.

Excitement flutters in your tummy as you realise you just found a new interesting way to have fun with him.

He still doesn’t have a clue about it, even while looking at your sly smile.

You lean into his flushed face and press your lips against his which he separates right away to accept your tongue. Subconsciously or not, his hips shift beneath you and the friction against his semi hard on makes him groan into the kiss. The warmth in his flesh, and the warmth radiating from your fingers that wrap around his wrists to keep his hands above his head is still strong and electrifying.

Not long after, you back away and he whines quietly at the sudden separation, but once you pull down his pants he grins approvingly at what’s going through your mind.

Usually he’d say something, something dirty or teasing, but judging by the tiredness that's covering his face and making his eyes heavy, he remains silent for now. He rests his head against the pillows and lets you do whatever you want.

With a good amount of oil on your hands you explore the area around his now full erection; you make his lower abdomen glistening, you take your time caressing his inner thighs which at one moment causes him to breathe more heavily.

His senses are so tingling; extra heightened by every light scratching of your nails as you graze them up and down. The heat is radiating all around his cock, but the thrill feels like it’s shooting right through his core.

His cock twitches, and he finally gives you a look.

“Baby, come on…” His voice leaves his dry mouth with a small whiny note. “Stop teasing me, baby.”

You laugh at his desperate sigh, and after giving his pretty panting mouth one last look, you lock fingers around his length and slowly tug at it while his turn into tight fists clenching at the bedsheets.

Sound of relief slips through his soft lips as your damped hand hugs his erection. There’s still some slippery texture left on your skin making each tug effortless and so slick; so lewd sounding too. Jooyeon cannot resist the urge to moan already. The pleasure invaded his body too quickly making him rock-hard in your palm.

“Shit—“ he gasps although you’re still twirling your hand around slowly; the strokes are perfectly firm and smooth, coming through a sensual pace. He’s never felt this good before. This is some type of numbing pleasure. His voice rises despite his exhaustion, provoked by your other palm squeezing his balls gently. “Fuck—“

You let go with a chuckle, and Jooyeon’s sleepy eyes look down with disappointment. But he doesn’t complain, he drops his head back into the cushion, breathing excitedly. One of his hands gets a hold of the sheets again.

“How are you feeling? Is it too much?”

You lean down, placing a kiss under his bellybutton. He’s gotten so sensitive that even this small touch makes his tummy clench. Even your breathing so close to his skin stimulates him further.

“Like I’m going to cum.” He murmurs and his closed eyes start to squeeze harder when your nails begin to move up and down his thighs again. These super light lines that drive him crazy. “Please, please, no more of this…” He grabs one of your hands to stop it.

At the same time, his hips jerk up, thrusting into nothing. He chuckles at himself too when he hears your giggles, but solely out of desperation.

“No more of what?” You continue to edge him, but with words. “What do you want, pretty boy? Say it.”

You keep your hands still, but your eyes are constantly moving between his gaze and his parted lips.

“I want to cum, baby, soo bad,” he guides your hand to his cock, and you let him. “Please, make me cum, I really need you.” His hand presses yours against him, his hips shift upward again, but this time he really feels something, and it makes him groan despite it not being as strong as he needs. "However you want," he adds weakly and glances at your little shorts so quickly you almost missed it.

But you didn't.

The oil is starting to do its thing and Jooyeon feels how his erection warms up as you push the head of his cock against your clit. The nicely scented moisture is smeared along your folds and his length glides between them perfectly, making you feel good too.

His body is completly still, his attention stays on your fingers that are holding him pressed against your pussy. The only movement is the one of his teeth biting on his lip as your hips move sensually, pushing him closer to the edge with each following rub. That's when he's not moaning how hot you are, making you want to peek at his face where droplets of sweat are glistening on his forehead. You notice his neck is starting to sweat too.

“Fuck—“

His eyes roll back.

While pressing his head against the pillow the veins of Jooyeon's glistening neck become more evident than before. You can see them up close once you let your body fall forward in order to rub yourself against him better. The view waters your mouth as you remain focused on moving your hips.

You haven't quicken the pace at all. You don't want to and you don't need to. You both want to cum like this - slowly, with flushed bodies sticking to each other and warm like the sun; while the pure aroma in the air comforts your senses and the pleasure of each brush of your clit along Jooyeon's hard length gets you both high.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Confession Edition!)

(Section two everyone!!! When I have enough posts for both I’ll make a masterlist! I’m kinda surprised how quick it took for people to like the previous one— Thank you so much to the people who have reblogged/followed me!!!)

- Those years of hiding away from the rest of the arcade after his major fuck up gave him lots of time to think, and mellow himself out even, though that violent impulsiveness is still there when he gets frustrated enough.

- If you catch his eye, whether it be due to you being from Sugar Rush, an older game, or newer— Or if you two were a thing before the whole RoadBlasters disaster, he isn’t nearly as stubborn with his feelings as he used to be.

- He handles it far more smoothly, though his reach is more limited (I like the idea that he can’t necessarily leave Sugar Rush due to his disguise slipping without it so this will apply here), probably getting Sour Bill to invite you to the game after hours so he can commune with you more.

- If you belong to Sugar Rush it is a bit of a different story; it's more convenient for his intentions to pursue you romantically.

- He tries and more or less succeeds in being classy in his attempts at courting you, having a kind of classic way of doing so— Giving you various edible gifts he reprograms to your liking.

- Pet name galore, all candy themed. I don’t make the rules they just come to me in dreams/j

- Naturally keeps various things from you, including the mistreatment of Venallope by him and the rest of Sugar Rush, making sure everyone plays nice in front of you so you don’t notice how lonely the little girl is.

- Sugary as all hell, which is something one would expect from King Candy, who seems to never run out of ways to try to woo you whenever you come to his game.

- After like a year or two he steadily makes his intentions more and more apparent before going out and saying it out front after inviting you to a nice dinner at the castle.

- When you accept, my god is he delighted by the result of his patience and hard work (with a good degree of manipulation, knowing him.) Much like the life he was able to carve himself into this game, he has a sense of pride about your relationship.

- His over dramatic personality comes into play, whenever someone takes interest in you in front of him he’s ready to scuffle, raising his fists up to “defend your honor”.

- It’s silly, but endearing, backing his actions up with saying his intentions are true, giving you an overly heartfelt and mushy response that gets an eye roll from Sour Bill, well deserved.

- The way King Candy loves is… Cartoonish at times, over the top, oozing that jolly and wondrous persona he’s so desperate to display in front of others, especially you.

- Though he does have moments where he lets you in, those moments where vulnerability cracks through that hard shell sugar coating he’s put on himself.

- His self-absorbed tendencies are there, no amount of time could ever take that away from him, it’s basically hard coded into him, in and out of his disguise.

- He’s quick to explain himself every time there’s a slip; either from himself or one of the many Sugar Rush subjects.

- He doesn’t let his frustrations out in front of you if he can help it, leading you away from whoever messed with his plan, placing a kind hand on the small of your back and giving the guilty party a brief yet annoyed glare before softening his face up for you.

- In many ways, he treats you right— But there's always a nearly imperceptible wall between you two, which always has him on guard in some way.

- There’s a yearning he wants to indulge in, but there's far too much risk for him to do so— He can't possibly know how'd you react if you knew his little, well, not so little secret.

- As much as he loves you, it isn’t enough to truly fill you in on everything, though unfortunately for him, the term “lies always come to light eventually” definitely fits his situation as his unwillingness to let things go (literally) inevitably does him in.

(Pa'z ZHSTVU)

[xerotiny]

Chasing Stars in the Dark // Request

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader [best friends to lovers]

Warning: smut, hard dom!yunho, sub!reader, manhandling, fingering, big cock yunho, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, cunnilingus, Yunho as a hard dom but still caring, etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with any mentioned tags. Grab yourself a couple of snacks because this long as fuck. And not proofread.

Requested By: wattpad request

Gist: having broken up recently, you call your best friend and ramble all your sad tales to him. Yunho always kept an open mind and listened to your every chatter, no matter how envious he seemed listening to you. However, finding you seemingly heartbroken, he suggests you return to your hometown. Because he was too. Although, going back home might mean having more boy problems than usual.

Song rec: Stars by SKY

Word Count: 24,665

"And he said, I dress like a slut!" you whine, aggressively sucking on the straw to get the remaining drink out of your glass.

The loud noise caused you to earn bothered glances from the surrounding people. You take a look around, seemingly unaware of what you had done, and bow your head a little; you turn back to your laptop screen, finding a familiar face grinning at your disastrous mistake. He doesn't need a reason to snicker at you, and why would he? Every moment of your life is mangled deeply within the awkwardness defined by your body, he only found it endearing. Did he?

"Stop it, Yunho," you groan, rolling your eyes at him. "That wasn't funny."

"To me it was," he shrugs.

You were sitting in the campus cafe, with your laptop propped open on the table and your favourite drink by your side. Mellow sun hung over your head, shining bright and dithering to the cloudy skies which the winds blew by. In the daze of the sunshine, you occupied the window counter with a long table and stools for seating; you preferred the single seating instead of the booth 'cause it would not engage you in unnecessary interactions. Or so you thought. Being an introvert, social interactions weren't really your strong suit. "But coming back to your real issues," he clears his throat, "he really said you dress like a slut? Oh my god. The audacity."

The moment his voice raised a baritone, you knew he was being overly dramatic about this situation; in a way, it seemed like he was mocking you. And maybe he was.

You roll your eyes again, "Yunho, I'm being serious!"

He whines, "so am I, Liyah. The audacity of a man to tell you how to dress is sheer atrocity and arrogance."

"Yeah yeah," you sigh, "but he was so perfect, Yun. Like, my Prince Charming."

"Okay, I wish I went deaf before hearing that," he jokes, two of his sleek fingers pointed at his forehead to mimic a gun, "kill me now, please."

"I wish I could," you huff, biting your lip. "I wish for many things; I wish I could get back with him."

For the first time in a while, you were yearning something else than comfort. Usually, after your breakups, you would call up your best friend and he would try to ease your mind over it, but this time you were craving for your best friend to be with you. Which was highly unlikely considering you both were in different cities, pursuing your undergrad degree. Coming from hometown, you were diaper buddies, born in the same hospital, on the same day, being neighbours and your families being lost long friends. This wasn't sheer coincidence; this was something from the book of fate for best friends.

Best friends. Those two words made your heart bitter. Agreed, when you two were kids, you were really good friends, always at each other's side and having each other's backs. You two were ride or die. Though, along the senior years of your high school, you started to see Yunho in a completely different light. To define it best, you were in love with him. Well, to be fair, love doesn't happen overnight, it takes time; and for you, it had taken eighteen years of your life to make you realise how fucked up you were for him. At times you wonder if he was too. Not that he would say it outright, but over the past years he had gone further and beyond to make you happy.

"No, Liyah! Repeat after me," he leans closer to his screen, the camera noting every detail of him, "I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks."

"I should not give second chances to hubristic dicks." You repeat, deadpanning, however.

"Was that so hard?" he leans back on his chair, adjusting his big headphones overhead and heaving out a breath, "Liyah, you don't deserve a guy like him. All he's ever done is second guess your relationship, judged you for your preferences and has never once respected your opinions."

He rolls back a little on his chair, grabbing his half-eaten snickers bar from the table and taking a good bite of it; he was in his dorm room, wearing a black tank top and jogger shorts. The room was kept dark with the drapes drawn over the windows, you could discern him through the screen only because his table lamp was burning directly onto him. Though, considering the murmured darkness in his room, you could still read the minute details on his face; his soft doe eyes, the hazy brown in them, and his plump lips almost too kissable to resist. The only surprise in his appearance was his hair. He had dyed it to a vivid colour of ashen blue, a complete contrast to his ebony hair you were used to.

"He was a misogynist." Yunho adds, "having such old school thoughts about women, and..." he trails off, "and it was visible in the way he treated you. I would never understand why you even considered dating him. I already told you he was a red flag."

You pout, "maybe because I was bored."

"If you're bored Liyah, maybe play a game or something?" he monotonously replies, satire reeking from him, "don't fall for dicks."

"Yeah, it's easy for you to say because you've never had your heart broken," you retort, "you've broken countless, however. How do you sleep at night?"

"Sound and peaceful, why?" he cocks his one brow up, "look, I haven't found 'the one' yet. A lot of them are pretentious bitches who only care about my dick."

"T-M-I, Yunho." You groan, "and it's quite obvious, girls are going to be after your body."

"Yeah, you think so?" he purposely places his elbows on the table, folding his arms to flex them. "I never caught up on that."

"Eat shit, fucker," you poke your tongue out at him, "no, seriously. You need to find yourself someone who stays longer than the time you take to pull your pants up after sex."

"Jeez, you have a way with your words, and that's really elaborate." He leans back, stretching his arms over his head, his muscles contorting to his command, "tell me, have you done anything stupid yet?"

"What do you mean?" you sound a little guilty.

"Don't fuck with me," he deadpans, keeping a warning tone instead, "you know exactly what I mean. Whenever someone breaks your heart, you plot a revenge story, and it never goes the way you plan them to."

"You're still salty about last time?" you whine, "we both knew it was a mistake. Lesson learnt. But you were my partner in crime, so..."

"Leave it," he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, "I still feel grossed out remembering what we did. You're pretty ruthless, you know that?"

"If he thinks his car is the only love of his life, then he had it coming."

"You wrecked his car beyond repair. You should know guys love their cars." He pouts softly, and you retaliate, "yeah, and you still joined me because you didn't want me to do it alone."

"Of course!" he exclaims, snickering a little, "I wasn't going to stand by and let you ruin your ex's car all alone, he deserved it."

"You are such a dick," you laugh along, "you can't pick a side, can you? Okay. Jokes apart. I'm not planning anything crazy this time. I'm far too old for that. Besides, I have assignments due before our summer break starts. So, guess what? I'm stuck typing hundred words per minute."

"You are stressed out," he mumbles, leaning on the table with his elbow and then resting his chin on his hand; he sighs, dazed by you. "Is that why I can see frown lines on your forehead? They're so prominent, ugh."

"What, really?" you unconsciously touch your forehead, worried. "Haha, very funny."

"Hey, I'm trying my best to ease your tension out." He shrugs.

You roll your eyes, adjusting your wired earbuds before looking away; grabbing your glass of strawberry smoothie, you peer further off the window in front of you. While you were busy studying the passersby on the promenade of your campus, Yunho was busy studying you. Mellow silence fills your ears for the time being he was staring at you, staring your hazel eyes melting away into sheer exultation as you sipped your drink. He always found you quite alluring. The way you'd scrunch your nose when you liked something, the way your cheeks would pop out when you smiled, and the way you'd get so easily flustered by compliments; every little thing about you was etched in my mind, almost ingrained.

Yunho continues to let his eyes linger on you, adoring your eyes and your lips; admiring the way you were sitting alone, tugging at the straps of your camisole in an attempt to keep them in place. He had never noticed you for your appearance or your vanity, he only saw you for your smile, your silly habits and your captivating personality. So, when he was quite engrossed in ogling your face, it weighed on him how badly he had fallen for you.

"What, cat got your tongue?" you mock, putting your glass down and letting it clink against the table. Pulling out the claw clip from your hair, you let it fall on your shoulders.

"No, I was just thinking."

"What?"

"That I gotta stop engaging myself with you and your shenanigans."

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, and he grins, "I'm joking. I wanted to ask you something."

"Go on."

"What are your plans over the summer break?" he asks, genuinely appearing curious as his brows fold up.

"I haven't given it much thought," you mutter, running hand through your hair, "I was thinking of applying for a full-time job or something."

With a subtle tug of your shoulder, you heave out a sigh and shake your head. Although, you had pretty much no motivation to think about your leisure holidays in front of you because you were too depressed about your breakup. You wouldn't say 'your now ex' was truly the one for you, but you were most definitely dwelling on the fact that you're going to have to be alone while your lifelong crush flirts with other women. That's the sad reality of unrequited love. You're deep into your thoughts, delving even deeper into your notions of your ex-boyfriend and your crush, seeming to shut out everyone around you. Yunho too.

"Liyah, are you listening to me?"

You snap back to reality, lips trembling and eyes quickly falling onto Yunho's face. "I am."

"Be a better liar, Liyah," he groans, shaking his head, "never mind, I was saying if you have nothing planned for your summer break, you can come back home." He has certainly gotten your attention now. "Well, I am too," he shrugs, "just as a favour to Mingi."

"What, why?" you muse, ruminating about the newly mentioned individual who happened to be your friend too. "You owe Mingi a favour?"

"It's not a bad thing," he pouts, "just volunteering at the summer camp."

"You want me to volunteer too?" you deadpan.

"Yeah," he mumbles, "I could use some company. You know I'm not too fond of the people back home, especially the ones of my age. And then there's unwanted attention from girls."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Yunho," you monotonously speak, "if you want me to be the lady repellent, you could've said so."

"Not exactly a lady repellent. I'm not trying to soil my chances with Alexis." He smirks, "we've been texting. And let's say there are some details I can't tell you."

"I know," you roll your eyes, "by the way, texting and sexting are two different things. Genius."

"Her body," he mouths, cupping the air in front of his chest.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Okay, no objectifying," leaning back into the chair, he rests his arms behind his head, "I'm kind of surprised Mingi did not text you regarding the volunteer work."

"We lost touch."

"Really?" he scoffs, "hard to believe considering you two were really close back in the days. Didn't he have a big fat crush on you?"

"It was a teeny tiny one." You state, "besides, we did not interact much after graduation."

The look on Yunho's face tells you he doesn't believe you; not even a bit when you're trying to forget about those days, all the times you were close to this person. Song Mingi was a good friend of yours, you met in middle school and had known each other since then. He's a little goofy and timid, an introvert more likely. Somehow, to your surprise, Yunho and he got along perfectly. For some reason you were worried about that they won't because you thought Yunho would feel left out. He never did. Yunho did not show any sort of disdain towards you making new friends, not even once.

Though, there'd be a time when he'd started showing his bitterness towards Mingi; at that time, you pushed it away, seemingly thinking it was nothing more than playful envy between the two of them. Both of them competed for your attention, considering all was a friendly banter. Until it wasn't. Mingi had a crush on you. Big time. He confessed it to you at the end of your graduation party. You kept Yunho in shadows regarding this fiasco, although it was stifling to not share everything with him as you usually would. That night, you gave Mingi a well thought riposte.

You told him the truth.

You unveiled your deepest secrets to him.

He was quite understanding. Not judgemental at all.

You liked Yunho. Always had.

When Mingi got to know of the truth, he chuckled and said, "I'm not dumb to be so oblivious. But I think he's the real fool to not see it."

You laughed along, stating, "it's been ten years. I'd give it some more time."

Mingi couldn't believe you, "you've liked him for ten years? What, since you were eight?"

You nodded, "come on, it's not that bad. I'll tell him eventually, taking one step at a time. Because, who wants to ruin such a good friendship with him."

Mingi did not say anything later on, he only wished you luck and pecked your cheek. The night was absolutely beautiful, somewhat schematic due to your realisation. If you don't confess soon, you'll be stuck with someone who's not him. And it goes both ways. After graduation, you and Yunho both chose to leave your hometown in search of better opportunities, both having been accepted into colleges cities apart.

If you recall your high school years, you had mentioned it a few times to him, that you'd want to go to the same college as him. But nothing goes as planned, does it? It's been three years since graduation, both of you in your junior years at college, and million miles away. You're grateful to the weekly, or sometimes monthly, FaceTime sessions with him; it gives you a sense of calm and comfort. Well, witnessing the joy on his face, for every little thing, does.

Yunho clears his throat, "what happened that night, Liyah?"

You take a deep breath, dismissing your reminiscent thoughts. "Nothing, really. We talked."

"If you say so." He doesn't believe it at all. "So, what's your answer? Do I see you over the summer break?"

You couldn't resist his sly smile and tempting eyes. "Sure. But I'm only doing it 'cause you forced me to. You definitely owe me one."

"Okay, princess." He rolls his eyes, "I'll see you then. Unfortunately, I have to take my leave now. Got a class today."

"Whatever." You poke your tongue out at him, "see you soon."

The call disconnects and you're all alone in the cafe with your empty glass of smoothie, a few other students and your phone buzzing quietly. You peer over the notifications once the screen lights up, finding texts from Yunho.

Yunho 🐾🐶 do you believe in coincidences?

You why?

Yunho 🐾🐶 mingi texted me he was asking about you seems like someone's not over their crush yet

You leave it, yun

Yunho 🐾🐶 nope see... now you have more than one reason to come back.

You fuck you

Rolling your eyes, you put your phone aside and groan at the situation; flustered, your face heats up and you try to hide the tint of red on your cheeks by laying your head down. Planting on the counter face first, you start pulling your thoughts apart. There's no way your summer break was going to be peaceful, neither here nor there. Though, you could say you were very much determined to confess your feelings to Yunho.

It was just...you were worried it was going to cost you your friendship with him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

            Summer break was here. The awful heat brought awful dread to the pit of your stomach, because you weren't prepared to meet either of the boys you were apparently close to. If you could put your nonchalant mind to work, you would realise you owe Mingi a relationship, and a draught confession to Yunho. The very sad part of your ordeal was the way you would approach it; you can't be lax with yourself or them, you can't be straightforward either. You had to think it through, whatever that is you had planned.

You were engrossed, immersed in the mindless notions when you park your car in the driveway of your suburban house. How badly had missed this place. The house is still the same, the grey walls, the wooden overhang, the roof tiles, and the aesthetically pleasing front porch stairs. Right beside yours, a meter apart, was Yunho's house. The Victorian style architecture never ceases to impress you, neither does the lush lawn and intricate landscape.

Heat simmers you out as you get out of the car and proceed to grab your bags from the trunk; putting a hand overhead, you try to save yourself from the sun before hastily making your way to the front porch. The overhang provides you with gelid shade, while you fumble with your bags to find the house key under one of the potted plants scattered on the porch. Upon finding it under some dead plant, you put the key in and turn it; the door unlocks and you're pushing past to get inside, your bags following after.

The vestibule, seemingly cooler than the outside, is empty and dark. To your surprise, the entire house is left cloaked in darkness. You slip out of your shoes, heaving out a sigh as the heat starts dissipating, bit by bit. Putting on the house slippers, you lug your bags behind you and come to a halt in the darkened living room; the drapes were pulled over the windows, not letting any lights pass through. You were aware your mom wasn't home; she was at work. But at least she could've left the curtains open, make sure you weren't blinded by the darkness once you come home. There's no point in thinking about your father, as he's usually out of town for work, awfully lot.

Chucking every notion into your mental bin, you stride to the windows and uncover the drapes, pulling them to the side while sunlight filters in. You turn around on your feet and quickly rid yourself of the wispy kimono you had over your body. Once you were out, you slump yourself on the couch and close your eyes. After a three-hour long drive, it was the first time in the day you had felt your skin breathe; however, you could've preferred for the air conditioning to be a little lower in the temperature.

You fish out your phone from the pockets of your shorts, which were stuck to your skin tightly because of the heat. Tugging at the straps of your embroidered camisole, you huff out a few breaths before going through your notifications. No recent texts from your mom, and no replies from Yunho. You had called him in the morning, before leaving your dorm room, informing him of your departure. He was ecstatic, evident in his voice and told you he had arrived a couple of days before you.

There was no need for you to have bittersweet sentiments about him reaching first, but you were somehow least prepared to face him, now that he was before you and gave you no time to think what your first words to him be. You two were meeting after three years, and the last time you remember, you hadn't gone a day without each other. Separation anxiety is a real thing, you thought. After many years of considering it a hoax, you had come to terms with it. Living in a different city without Yunho felt dreadful, a mere struggle till you could stand on your feet and do everything on your own.

Let's say you two relied on each other a lot. A lot.

"No texts?" you groan, opening yours and Yunho's chats. "You gotta be some kind of dick to ignore me..." sulking, you sink further back into the couch and rest your head against the edge. "Ahh..." you sigh, out of sheer spite and boredom.

You close your eyes again, not wanting to stare at the bland and vapid ceiling; the thought of you meeting your best friend after three years, swirls in your head. It's gonna be easy right? No awkwardness, no silences, and no teasing. Right? You have been FaceTiming each other, anyway, don't know why you have to be so worried about it. Perhaps, you were nervous to see him after a long time, only because you had confessions to make.

Lost in the vastness of your inklings, you don't perceive many things in your surroundings, especially the muffled footsteps ascending to your back. Your body flinches when a pair of hands grab your shoulders, eyes wide and on an alert; but your view is constrained to a dark silhouette covering its face with a purge mask.

"Gotcha!"

"Fuck!" you scream, managing to slip out of the person's grip and getting off the couch.

You've not even composed yourself when you hear a raspy voice rumble from behind the couch; from the apparent person standing behind it, clutching onto its stomach and throwing his head back in laughter.

"Oh my goodness," the all too familiar voice echos in your head, "you should've seen your face, Liyah."

When the dense vibrations of his laughter come to a halt, he whips off the mask from his face, revealing his fading ashen hair stuck to his forehead. Yunho smirks at you, flicking the mask on the couch before walking around to drop down on it. He takes a breath of air, perhaps tired from all the laughter while you narrow your eyes at him, your arms over your chest.

You're watching him with amusement; maybe it was the epicurean sense of your gaze, 'cause you couldn't help but drool at the man he had become. Yeah yeah, it sounds weird to you too. Maybe, spending three years away from each other had numbed your senses. Even after all the FaceTime sessions, you were erratically attracted to him; his toned body and how it was hidden beneath an oversized graphic tee and denim jeans. The most endearing thing about him, his shirt having a handwritten typography spelling out 'smile, zero worries'. That is definitely his personality.

"Not funny, jerk face."

"Oh, it really was," he chuckles, shrugging off his black leather jacket and letting it hang over the armrest of the couch. "Your face was worth going through all the trouble to find this mask in my attic. Too bad I did not have a camera on me."

"Is this how you welcome me back? By petty pranks?"

He shrugs his shoulders, letting his head fall back, "I had many things planned for your welcome; guess my efforts fell short. I'm not as lively as I used to be before."

"I'm glad you aren't," you grumble, going to pick up your bags when Yunho quickly scrambles on his feet and picks them up for you. "Woah, what a gentleman."

"Snark all you want; I know you love me." He snides, holding two of your bags in either of his hands, "to your room, then?"

You shake your head and roll your eyes, taking the lead as you walk down the hallway. As the hallway curves to a corner, the stairs begin and you take one step at a time, Yunho hauling the bags behind you.

"Would it be stupid if I asked you how you got in?" you mumble, calling to him.

Yunho heaves a murmured chortle, "babes, the balcony of your room opens right into mine. All I had to do was take a leap of faith. Literally."

"That's trespassing, I'll have you behind the bars," you retort.

"Aww, then wouldn't you miss me too much?" he pouts, "I got to jail, you lose a best friend and die alone."

"Pretty elaborate," you continue walking up the stairs, quite leisurely to keep the conversation between you two going, "I'm not dying alone. We made a deal, remember?"

"Right, we were born together, we will die together." He sighs, "we made a lot of hollow promises back then, did we not?"

The two of you are at the top of the stairs, you've stopped in your steps while he's standing next to you. Either of your eyes bore into each other's, searching for the verity of your so-called promises and pacts you had made when you were kids. It's all fun and games when you're kids, when you don't even think with a fraction of your mind and believe every word you say is genuine and candid. You and Yunho had your own sets of bargains ready by the age of fourteen; you were silly then, to consider yourself making covenants with your best friend about every little thing.

Not married till 30? You were going to marry each other.

No first kiss in your teens? You were going to be each other's firsts. And that applied to everything.

These were some of them, but the thought of being each other's first was a wild one. Luckily, you both had your first kiss at the age of sixteen; it was memorable for you, but terrible for Yunho as he remembers the girl he liked was only using him to make her ex jealous. It's all in the past. You're both twenty something now: twenty-one, one year away from graduating college. Of course, things, situations, conflicts, have taken turns for the better.

At the top of the stairs, it's just you and him, lost in the translation of the language your eyes spoke. What were you even trying to convey? Biting your lip, blinking uncontrollably while your heart pounds in your chest, too hard for you to think it would drop down to your gut. Maybe you were taking an apprehensive approach to your dynamic with him, because once it shifts, you know there's no going back.

Yunho clears his throat, looking away from you and stepping forward, "your bags are really heavy. What do you have in these?"

Your body shudders softly, squeaking at the absence of him next to you. "Just clothes."

"How many pairs did you get?"

"Not many..." you weren't sure if you were making sense to yourself, because you hadn't quite snapped out of your trance yet.

The little stare down at the top of the stairs was a homebound reverie to you. It put you in a deep state of cognisance, fulfilling your heart's desire because you were now persuaded by your stupid self to believe you had fallen in love with him. The soulmate type of love. Was it? It had to be. Because no one knows you like he does. Knowing every crack and crevice in your soul, knowing every little detail about you, remembering it, ingraining in his memory; he had to be in love with you, too. Right? It only made sense.

Yunho's long gone from your point of vision, and you're still stuck to the floor, contemplating, musing, or ruminating. No matter how you made overtures to your thinking, there was no way you'd think he reciprocates your feelings. Maybe it's too much wishful thinking. Has to be.

"Liyah, where the fuck are you?" he playfully calls out to you, his deep voice breaking you apart.

You shake your head and promenade down the narrow hallway once it the main structure branches into two; your house was like a labyrinth of hallways, and you'd find yourself lost in the maze at times. You don't know how Yunho remembers everything, but maybe it's habitual for him to remember, as much as you do for his house. Walking in your room, you find Yunho closing the balcony doors he had left open.

"No thoughts. Clear mind." You mumble to yourself before trudging further inside.

Yunho, alerted by your presence, turns around and offers you a smile. That goddamn smile. The one which shines brighter than the moon and the stars, heck, it would even put them to shame. His smile brought butterflies to your stomach, and the familiar feelings started bubbling under your skin. You were fucked.

Well, you might want to hold onto that thought just yet.

You're left to act on your instincts when he prances towards you and wraps your little frame in a bone crushing hug. He missed you. Clearly. His arms are tight and snug around your shoulders, his head tilting down to rest his chin on yours; your height difference gave him the biggest advantage ever, towering over you like a giant teddy bear. He was soft, and warm, comforting to you. Maybe why you did not think twice before hugging him back as tight as you could; you bury your head in his chest, inhaling his scent which was long lost in the virtual reality of FaceTimes. You missed him too. A lot.

Yunho always smelled like a sybaritic man, someone who'd be addicted to the life of luxury and pleasure. It was too sensual for you and your senses. Imagine, hugging your best friend who's basically sex on a stick. Yeah, your hormones were going crazy. Downtown crazy. You pull back from his embrace before you could feel yourself dripping in carnality by only inhaling the heart notes of his scent and step aside to fall onto your bed.

Not much was spoken. Not when you had practically snatched yourself out of his hold and flumped on the bed. Yunho doesn't bother saying anything to you, only maybe, he finds it better to just lay next to you on the bed. You prop yourself up by your elbows and turn your head to look at him; he was resting against the headboard with his head tilted to a side while his eyes remained fixed on you. There's a frail curl on his lips. And you wonder what it was about.

"I really needed that hug, thanks." You speak up, turning on your side and letting your head fall on the mattress; you still peeked at him.

Yunho couldn't bear the sight of you, innocently looking up at him through your lashes. He couldn't really help it either because your scent had put him in a daze of the past years, the reminiscent years of him stealing sniffs of you to realise how alluring your scent was. You always smelled luscious to him, having the hints of strawberry and coconut to your skin, your hair, and your lips even; he didn't know when he was addicted to you.

"Because of the breakup?" he asks, grabbing the fluffy pillow from next to him and hugging it close to his chest.

"Because I saw him again, before coming here," you blurt, "I wasn't ready for a confrontation. He approached me, already decided to win me back."

"What did you say to him?"

"I couldn't say anything," you mumble, "like words disintegrated on my tongue. I was blank. My heart desired to say one thing but my mind refrained from saying anything at all."

"You really weren't ready to see him," he snickers, "it speaks for the better of you, doesn't it?

"That I don't need him like I used to before?"

"You're growing independent," he points, "he never was the right choice for you, yet you let him get to the deepest parts of you. Liyah, don't make the mistake of going back to him. Find yourself a better man."

"I'm trying to," you sound despondent to him and he suggests, "there's not much time for the night to dawn over. I'll cook something for you and set up the rooftop, like the old times."

You sit up straighter, narrowing your eyes at him while your lower lip tugs down. "I don't trust you in the kitchen. Leave the cooking to me. You go set up the rooftop."

"You're leaving the hard part for me," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But you know what I like right?"

"Lasagna? Mac and cheese? Jajangmyeon?" you list, pulling yourself out of the bed and staring at him, "I'm whipping up something easy. Too lazy to do go all culinary mode."

He gets out of the bed too, rolling his eyes at you before putting the pillow down. "Just make some P-B-and-J."

"We're not in middle school anymore," you state, already turning on your heels to exit the room. "I'll make some pasta."

"Whatever you want," he shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to walk to the balcony.

"I'll be back soon. Be careful upstairs."

"Don't worry, okay? I've done it countless times before. I'll be fine."

You nod and head downstairs to the kitchen. However, light on your feet, you were shaking with anticipation. Maybe this could be an opportunity to confess? It has to be right? Why else would he suggest it? You know your rooftop rendezvous have always been romantic; what's anti romantic about rooftop dinners? Nothing. Nothing compares to eating under the moonlight with the one you can rely on. It has been a long-time tradition for the two of you. The moment either of you spiralled down the road of depression or anxiety, you'd be up on the rooftop, looking at the stars.

In the kitchen, you're drifting around like a giant cloud, working yourself up to prepare good food for both of you. This is where you in a slump, thinking of easy ways to whip up something delicious. Given, you also had to consider the limited source of ingredients you have in the refrigerator. You're way too over your head, pondering. What if you make something disappointing? What if he doesn't like what you make? You're practically scratching the back of your neck, standing still in front of the closed refrigerator with thoughts circling around one thing; what to make.

Amidst the dense tranquility of the house, you groan out softly and pull the door of the refrigerator. Opening it, you find nothing of useful. This is atrocious. You're contemplating, deranged by the extremities of your mind, you have half a heart made up to prepare peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as he had suggested. But that is too basic. Is that what you would want to feed the man you had been in love with? Probably not.

Your dismayed conscience doesn't let you rest for even a second, immensely saturated on outdated thoughts and emotions; the noise in your head is quite louder than the affable footsteps resonating across the kitchen. It was when a warm hand had engulfed your shoulder bone, then you were brought to your reality with Yunho standing next to you. His face was shrouded with despair yet the desperate shine of the sinking sun had lighten up his eyes; he seemed to be in a melancholic state, lips jutting out. The warmth of his hand slips down your shoulder, alerting you somehow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, closing the refrigerator door.

He stood adjacent to the window, his ashen hair appearing as a cerulean tuft of sea, his face cherishing the golden glow. Was it possible for him to be any more attractive than he already is?

"I nicked my finger," he mutters, glancing down.

Your eyes trail along his, witnessing the alarming cut on his pinky finger. It was a long gash, deep even; why else would there be rivulets of blood cascading down his skin? Panic stricken, you hold his hand on yours, both of your palms cupped his hand to pull him closer to you. The contrasting shade of blood against his pale skin was terrifying, not as much, but it was genuinely intimidating. More blood oozes out when you bring his hand under your sharp gaze to inspect.

"How can you be so clumsy, Yunho?" you half-yell, half-question him, nibbling on your lower lip.

"I was careful, okay? I don't know how I cut myself; probably on the roof tile or something, I don't know," he explains, exasperated.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"I don't see..." you tilt his hand in a way to catch it under the dimming light of the sun coming through the window. "There isn't anything stuck in the cut."

He stays quiet, watching you, leaning over your petite body to wonder what you had been observing for long; it was certainly disporting to him, how you were so keen on studying the little slash on his skin, rather than his eyes which had been speaking to you for years. Absolutely ridiculous. He knows how you were, how eye contact always brought you a sense of unease and discomfort. And maybe holding a serious stare down with him might have been too heavy on your heart, because he even knows how desperately it hammered in your chest.

Biting down on his lower lip, Yunho refrains every strain in his muscles to lift up your chin and kiss your lips right there and then. He had been eager to taste them, always was. You have no idea how dire his yearning is, how avidly he dreams to be with you. In a broader perspective, he understands when to wear his heart on his sleeve and make it obvious to you. And for the time being, he hadn't found the perfect moment to. Not when you were used to relying on him for comfort every time you had a break up. He might not show it, but he absolutely despised all your ex boyfriends, he was jealous too. And listening to your tales of how they treated you, he certainly felt his blood boil. You deserved nothing but queen treatment, and none of your past ventures were treating you like the queen you are.

There's a stifling ache in Yunho's heart, burning all the way to his throat till he's suffocating in the silence he created.

"Come here," you softly tug at his hand, bringing him to the sink, "we'll get this washed first and later we can treat it."

Your attention is focused on his bleeding hand, which showed no signs of stopping any soon. Turning the tap on, you keep his hand under the running water and while the water splashes through, the cut becomes cleaner and devoid of blood. Regardless, it doesn't stop the bleeding.

"Okay, it won't stop bleeding," you grumble, hastily turning the tap off. "What were you thinking, Yunho? How can you be so careless? Oh geez..."

"Hey, it's not that bad, come on." He tries to reassure you, "just slap on a bandaid and it'll be fine."

"It's not going to be fine!" you yell at him, "look at your hand, its like a faucet right now. How do you think a bandaid can stop this?"

You had given your rational and calm thinking to the anxiety; not understanding what to do, you take a step back and stare at him. Helpless. That's what you felt, over a little cut on his finger which won't stop bleeding.

"You're panicking for no reason, Liyah." He sighs, bringing his hand close to his face, "think with a clear mind. Do you have any turmeric with you?"

You nod your head, remembering there's a small jar of turmeric in the back of your condiments cabinet. Quick on your feet, you rush to the cabinet and raise yourself on your tippy toes to open it; once opening it, you scour through it and grab the bottle of turmeric.

"Okay, and?" you stand in front of him, holding the bottle tightly in your hand.

"Take some out and press it gently on my cut," he murmurs, offering you an encouraging smile.

You do as he says, pinching out a little bit of turmeric and pressing it lightly against the cut. The yellow condiment clots with the blood, ceasing the bleed in mere seconds; his hand was still streaked crimson, which was starting to dry on his skin. You should probably tell him to wash it before it leaves a taint behind, but you're too riveted by his hazy smile to let that thought come across your tongue. However what does come to your mind is to bash him for his stupidity.

Taking a breath of relief, you stare at him and groan, "you stupid little jerk! What if it had been serious than that? God..."

"Yeah, even in those circumstances you need to be levelheaded. Panicking won't bring you much satisfaction." He whines, "you wouldn't last a day in nursing school."

You poke your tongue out at him, "I don't need to."

"Silly goose," he mutters under his breath and rolls his eyes.

You were growing too fond of the current situation to retaliate in any way. How often did you get the opportunity to hold his hand? Considering you were best friends there were countless opportunities where you had the chance to. But this was different. Very different from the old times; you were alluded by his eyes to even move away from him. It's not very often that you get caught up like this, with a setting sun, a beautiful gradient of orange and red covering your faces in its sheer glow, and the dithered proximity of nothingness.

Minutes drag by in silence, you didn't want to be the first who moves back, and he didn't want to either. Sullen by the growing darkness, as the sun departs and calls out to the moon to illuminate the world, you're forced to take a step back. You clear your throat, dropping your hands to your side at first, then you timidly tug a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"It's good to know that you care so much," he blurts out of nowhere, heaving out a breath thereafter, "but you really don't need to worry so much about me. Save that worry for someone who actually deserves it."

"Are you saying, you don't?" you prompt, glancing down at the floor; as the moonlight breaks through the window, you're struck by your inviting silhouettes stretching on the floor.

"I'm not," he whispers, "I don't deserve all of it."

"Oh," you drawl, "you don't have to be such a saint, Yunho. I know my heart."

He takes a step closer to you, "so your heart says to worry about me all the time? Does it grieve when I'm in pain? Does it know what my heart feels?"

"Why are you being so difficult to reason with right now?" you muse, wanting to run away from him, because he had taken another step closer to you, "Liyah, do you even know what..."

"It doesn't matter," you shake your head, suffocated by the closeness between you two. "Your wound's better now. I'll make something easy and meet you upstairs. Just—just carry the six pack with you."

Yunho had something to say, but he suppresses every bit of him and watches you head over to the refrigerator. He stands by your side when you pick up the six pack from the refrigerator; without making a sound, he takes it from your hand and leaves you stranded in the kitchen. There you are, alone in the dark with your gruelling afterthoughts on your outburst. Could it even be termed as an outburst?

Whilst you're closing the refrigerator door, your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your shorts. When you bring it out, you're not surprised to receive several texts from your mom.

Mom 🦋🩵 hey i know its really rude of me to keep you alone and you're just back from college... but i dont think i can make it home early i'll try to get out of here as soon as i can though till then, just spend your time with yunho I'm assuming he's still there see you soon, bby lol

You need to tell her that L-O-L means something else; no one uses it to abbreviate "lots of love" anymore. Stifling a laugh, you urge out a groan because now things were about to get even more awkward between you and Yunho. If at least your mom had been here with you, she would've kept you in loop and not made it seem so awkward.

The fate was on your side to ruin your relationship with him, it seems. Because there's no way you would be able to confess your feelings now. Not that you know he doesn't really care or reciprocate to them. How pathetic. You had been hoping for everything to surf the smooth waves, but in reality it was all crashing down like the high tides in the ocean. Could you really see yourself falling into the deep sea, where barren waters are symbolic of your love for him? You weren't sure anymore.

As the night dwindles along with uncertain time, you are making your way upstairs to your room; the way to the rooftop was through your balcony, a short ladder adhered to the adjacent wall which lead up to a plain space amidst the conceding panels of your roof. It was only a flat surface with meagre space, the centre was covered with cozy picnic blanket. Yunho sat by himself, legs crossed and knees to his chest; he stared up at the sky, looking at the array of glimmering stars. His hair moved with the air, the frisky night breeze playing with him and leaving behind tender caresses against his face.

He grows aware of your presence, as you come to sit down next to him. Placing the plate of food between you two, you bring your knees to your chest as well and stare up at the sky; you were mimicking him, his details. A while goes in silence when he sighs and turns to you, his eyes linger on yours before glancing down at the plate between you two.

"P-B-and-Js?" he muses, letting his lips curl by a corner. "Someone settled for easy."

You roll your eyes, "do you want it or not?"

"Of course," he mumbles, picking up a piece from the plate before taking a bite of it. Amidst all, he hands you a beer from the six pack, "you need to catch up with me."

As you take the bottle from his hand, he waves his own, having held it in his other hand; the bottle had been half-empty, impatiently guzzled. You're muddled as you stare at the crown of the bottle, not knowing how to remove it. Yunho breathes out, expressing his annoyance playfully before snatching the bottle out of your hand and giving you his to hold.

"No problemo," he teases, fishing out his car keys from his jeans and propping it right under the crown; with one simple tug, the crown flies off and falls down, leaving the beer to bubble up. "There you go, ma'am."

"Thank you," you mock, taking the bottle from his hand and giving his back. "You have nice tricks up your sleeve."

"Oh, you don't know..." as he trails off, silence settles between you two.

In the ambiguous nightfall, you two are brooding over little things of your life; the past where neither of you had made it obvious you had a thing for each other. Maybe, you did. You made it so obvious for him to catch up on the hints. But Yunho being Yunho, never got around them. In this solitude of quietness, you wonder if you could speak your heart to him. If you could let go of what shackles you and set your heart free. You wanted to tell him everything, what, how and why.

"Stars bring you a sense of wonder, don't they?" he speaks up, glancing at you before looking back up at the stars.

"I believe they remind me how small we are in the vastness of creation, in the space, in the deliberate cosmos," you mumble, biting your lower lip as you take a sip of your beer. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," he shrugs lightly, "maybe I'm questioning our existence amid the macrocosm. Or, perhaps I am looking for more profound definitions to our bond."

"We're friends, Yunho," you whisper, wispy and breathless, "we have been close to each other since we could remember."

"What if our destiny had been written in the stars?" he questions, turning fully towards you. "It's not coincidental for us to have everything so perfectly arranged; the stars had to do something with our fates. To intertwine them, to make them..."

You don't say a word, whiling in the serenity of arrant obscurity. The light booze was bitter on your tongue, but not as bitter as the words you had trapped.

"Are you instigating something, Yunho?" you guzzle a good amount of beer before picking out a piece of sandwich.

"Maybe I am," his eyes were fixated on you, reading every minute movement, "do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

You turn to face him, mouth full with the bite of sandwich you took, and your eyes seemingly teary. There's something in the way he was looking at you, plump lips trembling in an attempt to get the remaining words out of his mouth, but he did not make a sound. You were too eager to hear him speak; continue with the conundrum he had brought up.

Was he the one confessing?

Was he the first to do so?

So, he does reciprocate your feelings, doesn't he?

"Liyah, I—"

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Your phone rings out loud, alerting you of the incoming texts; you flinch, pulling yourself away from Yunho and taking your phone out from the pocket of your shorts. Caught in a daze, you read the texts you had received.

Song Mingi.

What did he want now?

You open your chats with him and go through the texts.

Mingi 🎀 hey! heard you're back in town why didn't you call me? anyway, since you're back are you free right now? the couple of us are going cliff diving you know, by the abandoned railway line let me know you're in san gets cranky when he doesn't have a total headcount. :)

You quickly reply back to him.

You sure! who else is gonna be there?

You get an immediate response from him.

Mingi 🎀 san, me, alexis, chris felix and jiyeon maybe and yunho... he's with you right? can you ask him? i texted him hours ago he hasn't responded yet

You glance at Yunho and then back at your blaring screen; though, you weren't feeling all too well noticing Yunho shift his attention from you to the stars.

You i'll drag him with me if I have to don't worry we'll be there where do we meet?

Mingi 🎀 oh, everyone's bringing their own cars so i think it's better if we meet directly at the spot leave soon! we're already on our way there. see you shortly bye xoxo

You alright!

You put your phone back inside your pocket, and then proceed to put the half-eaten sandwich back in the plate; tapping Yunho's shoulder lightly, you get his attention.

"Who was it?" he asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"Mingi," you add, "he's invited us to cliff diving." You gulp the remaining bit of your beer and wince, "where's your phone? He's complaining that you aren't paying him enough attention."

"Ah, that dick," he curses under his breath and hastily pulls out his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "My phone has been on silent from the morning."

He goes through his text messages while you finish your beer and place the empty bottle down. "Did you say yes to that?"

"Yeah, why not?" you shrug, "cliff diving sounds really fun. Come on, we should leave already."

Getting on your feet carefully, you dust your the back of shorts unconsciously and as you are about to leave, Yunho sneaks up from behind. One hand on your shoulder, other holding the bottle of beer, he takes a gulp of the drink before murmuring, "are you sure you want to go? It won't be awkward for you with Mingi there?"

You chuckle, "Mingi and I are okay. We're out of the awkward phase."

"Alright," he murmurs and finishes his beer.

Dropping his hand from your shoulder, he follows you back downstairs; the six pack and plate of food are still lying on the rooftop, while the two of you are in the living room. Yunho picks up his abandoned jacket from the couch's armrest and shrugs it on. You do the same, draping the kimono on your shoulders, the one you had taken off after coming home. Meeting with the chilly air outside, you walk to your car parked in the driveway, but Yunho stops you.

"Let's take my car," he suggests, nudging his head in the direction of his house.

"Fine by me." You shrug and pout, finding no harm in the suggestion.

On the way over to his house, Yunho pulls you close to his side by hooking his arm around your shoulder. Your feet fall in synch as you take long strides together; past the broad metal gates of his house, you're strolling on the yellow bricked promenade surrounded by lush bushes, seemingly of flowers which release their heavenly scent at night. The night bloomers, if that thing even exists. You're swayed to the musky undertones of Yunho's scent and the mirth of the grass, not understanding what was happening in your heart or your mind.

For one moment you and Yunho are on the brink of confessing your feelings for each other and the next you're taking a step back and pretending to be okay. Does that even make sense to you? Because it wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

Yunho rubs circles on your shoulders, rubbing his hand thereafter. "It seems like we have a lot of unresolved things to talk about. We'll deal with them later, right?"

You nod, humming along. "Maybe those things don't need resolving. Maybe we just need to be upfront."

"Maybe we do." He mumbles under his breath and once you've gotten close to the garage, he lets go of you.

Standing at a distance, you hug yourself to prevent the cold from seeping in your heart. The gelid breeze of the night is known to be exuberant. You wait for Yunho to bring the car outside, somewhat lost in the meagre revels this night has to offer. The roar of a car's engine reverberates, snapping you out of your reverie to find yourself staring at Yunho's car. He flashes you a worried look before nudging his head at you; taking the sign, you hasten yourself to settle in the passenger's seat.

"You're zoning out awfully lot, Liyah," Yunho states while you buckle yourself in. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Yunho," you assure him, slightly irked by his constant worry. "Let's go, we don't want to make them wait."

Yunho sighs, as if he had given up on you, "okay."

The drive is lot quieter than it would've been if you hadn't ticked off Yunho. Well to say in the least, you both were not in the mood to speak anything at all. The radio was too loud any way, you did not need the silence to be filled with useless babbles. You're staring out of the window, watching the trees pass you by as the night approaches a new beginning. Distant landscapes of open fields and mountains soon disintegrate to a dense forest; the valley starts off from this point on, where the abandoned railway bridge levitates over a lake.

When you find the cluster of cars parked in a small open space, Yunho slows down and pulls his own in line. Killing the engine, he gets the keys out and unlocks the doors. You get out without hesitation or even waiting for Yunho. The nightly air carries a sublime scent of earth and sod, while you're hugging your chest and straying away from Yunho. You could hear the distant chatters accompanied by laughter.

The trees only start growing in number, forming thickets and engulfing everything in their darkness. You find your group of friends standing under a giant elm tree; there were exactly the people who Mingi had mentioned before. San, Chris, Felix, Alexis and Jiyeon, engaged in a conversation led by Mingi. They're standing in a circle, dispersed away from each other; San and Chris had a smoke in between their lips, it made sense why the others maintained distance from them.

Your feet crunch on the dried foliage, hailing their attentions to you as you walk past to stand next to Mingi. The pink haired man offers you a small smile, a curve soon vanishing as he glances in your direction to find Yunho swaying along. Mingi doesn't wait until his best friend is closer to him, he sprints in enthusiasm and hugs the man he had been waiting for. The two share a gripping embrace, while the others engage with you.

To say you missed them, it would be an understatement. All of the ones present here, except for Mingi, left the town to find better opportunities for themselves. Everyone is in different cities now, some studying, some having full time jobs. Your eyes lurk around, rummaging from face to face. San hasn't changed a bit, he was still the guy who loved to dress in all black; he wore a black shirt and black pants, heavy platforms on his feet while his tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. Chris and Felix had a contrasting appearance to them from the last time you had seen them; Chris has gotten buff and toned, his arms bulging and flexing under the cutout shirt he wore, even his thighs were insanely toned under the denim shorts. Felix is still the cute little guy, still wearing his jumpers. Jiyeon is still conservative, having her body covered from head to toe with a maxi dress and as usual, Alexis is being the fashion icon that she is, dressed in chic clothes; a crop top and shorts, exposing as much skin as she could.

"We almost thought you wouldn't come," San begins, blowing out a cloud of white smoke.

Jiyeon follows after, "considering you and Mingi shared that night together, you know the night of our graduation party."

You roll your eyes, slapping your hand on her back as she was on your right, "do you have to bring it up?"

"Yeah, maybe nothing happened between them," Alexis blurts, but then glances at you, "what?"

"Nothing really happened between us." You state.

"Oh, come on, Liyah," Chris says with his thick accent, "everyone has been talking about you two since that night. The town needs gossip."

Felix rolls his eyes, "this town is a deadbeat place, all of us left for a reason."

"Yeah, to seek more opportunities." Mingi crawls back to the circle, Yunho behind him by a few steps. "The town is not a deadbeat town. You guys were obsessed with the idea of leaving."

"Yeah, homie," San chimes, "you stayed back because of your family quarry."

"Do you have any wild animals there?" Jiyeon asks, curiosity peaking in her tone.

"A few bears, a passal of boars, and a herd of antelopes." Mingi puts into words, "the hunting season will start after the summer camp ends."

"Ooh, hunting. Sounds fun," Chris cheers, throwing his burning cigarette down on the ground and stomping on it. "Count me in for that."

"Is it even safe—"

"—hey, Yunho!" Alexis's scream interrupts you, and you watch the said woman leaping into Yunho's arms for an uncalled hug.

Not cool.

Mingi comes to stand next to you, hugging you sideways. It catches you off guard, but you settle into his touch as the seconds pass. Well, you needed it. Because you were bubbling with jealousy as Alexis and Yunho hug. You clear your throat loudly, forcing the two to break their embrace and while they do step back, they start exchanging remarks. Flirty remarks.

Alexis squeezes his arms, "someone's been working out."

Yunho scratches the back of his neck and waves her off. "Not as much working out as lifting manikins for classes."

"You're still doing great," she replies, using her high-pitched giggle. "Speaking of which, how's the college treating you?"

They're lost in a conversation while you're bitterly biting back on your tongue to prevent yourself from cursing someone out. Mingi's arm gets tighter around your shoulder and tugs you close to his body.

You grumble, "she has no reason to stick to him like that."

"And you have no reason to be jealous," San mumbles, interjecting in Mingi's thoughts; he puts out his cigarette by throwing it down and stomping on it.

"He's right," Mingi shrugs, "we know you like Yunho. But he doesn't. There's nothing official between you two, so he's liable for some harmless flirting."

Jiyeon pipes in, "if you ask me, Liyah took too much time to understand her own feelings. You can't be attracted to someone out of nowhere. Either you always are, or you're just blinded by lust."

"Jiyeon makes sense," Felix gives you his two cents, "time waits for none, Liyah. If you had the guts to tell him how you felt on the night of our graduation party...who knows, you might've been together now."

"Why are we yapping, guys?" Chris groans, "Liyah's relationship problems only get worse when they're discussed. We're here to dive. And I don't want to waste my night solving some broken lovers' quarrel."

"I would have to agree with this counterpart," Felix mutters, "before the night gets too dark and ambiguous for us, let's just do what we came here to do."

"See, I told you, no one has any business discussing my issues with Yunho," you grumble, taking a step ahead, "I'm here for a nice swim and nothing else."

Mingi follows in your steps, San and Jiyeon do too; Chris and Felix are behind you all, while Yunho and Alexis are the last ones to be in your pursuit. The walk to the bridge was short, merely spanning for about ten minutes; the railway tracks are buried deep in the count, covered with moss and creepers now. Over the seasons, this place gets denser and thicker, one cannot discern a proper path and might get lost.

The moisture laden air hits your face first, dissipating your jealousy as along the walk you couldn't help but think about Yunho and Alexis at the back, flirting and touching.

Mingi places his hand on your shoulder, "race you to the beams?"

You smirk and spring on your feet, running before he could; the beams were these two broad metal bars holding the front of the bridge, these spanned the entire bridge, adhering and supporting the structure over the water. The rusted beams leave a streak of red on your hand when you touch it, while teasing Mingi with your tongue. Others are right behind you, leisurely strolling.

"Wanna go first?" Mingi asks, pulling his graphic tee over his head and leaving him bare; his body was still drool worthy, having a small crescent moon tattooed on his chest.

He gets out of his pants, exposing himself in snug briefs which outlines his cock all too well. Slipping out of his shoes and socks, he makes sure to not step on any gravel under him. He tugs at the waistband of his briefs, and then extends his hand toward you; patiently waiting for you to take it in yours.

You smile at him, smugly. Ridding yourself off your sandals, kimono, camisole, and your shorts, you stand next to him partially naked. Ignoring the low sounding whistles directed at you, it was probably Chris or someone else; although, you were hoping Yunho had caught up on you and your figure, that is if he wasn't busy entertaining Alexis. It was a good day to choose matching lacy underwear, the material flimsy and a little see-through to show off how beautiful your body is. Wind cuts to your skin, suddenly feeling cold; you take Mingi's hand in yours and he leads along the track. In the moment, you're least bothered about the others, only focusing on your hand laced with Mingi's.

He guides you over a wide barricade, making you take a short leap before you're carefully tiptoeing on the narrow edge hanging over the large water body. Your heart palpitates in your chest, falling into your gut as the adrenaline kicks in. The distance between the bridge and the lake aren't much, just enough for your body to spiral down into the depth; around 25 feet maybe.

Mingi squeezes your hand tightly, getting your attention. "On the count of three."

You nod.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

As the last count echos in your mind, you jump. The support from beneath your feet slipping off, now an empty void of anticipation; you're falling down with Mingi, wind brushing against your body to resist the fall. In the whiling seconds, you come in contact with the frigid barrier of water, then your body submerges inside. Water envelopes you all around, burying you in splintering waves of coldness. You hadn't realised when your hand had slipped off of Mingi's grip, not that it mattered now. Cold currents bubble around you when you swim up to the surface, finding Mingi only a few meters away from you.

Your wet hair sticks close to your skin and face, framing along your cheeks as you try to push away most of it from your eyes. Mingi's hair is in the same condition; he adorns a wide smile on his lips, eyes blinking away the remaining water while he swims closer to you. The warmth of his body captures yours in a gentle touch, arms entwined in your waist, and his face only inches away.

You're laughing, giggling, the sound itself mellifluous to his ears. Clinging onto him, he somehow manages to keep the two of you afloat. In your unconscious state, you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing yourself into his chest.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks you, rubbing his thumbs into the small of your back.

"Making Yunho jealous?"

He juts his lower lip out. "If you're comfortable with it."

"I think we're already making him jealous."

You glance over your shoulder, tilting your head to look up above; the vast distance doesn't let you discern anything happening on the bridge, yet it brings you a new high of exhilaration thinking about making Yunho envious of you and Mingi. A few more minutes pass and Mingi swims both of you away from the point of impact. More chaos is heard above on the bridge, and with your curiosity bursting apart at the seams, you glance up again to find two silhouettes jumping down.

Splash!

The water around them makes a big splatter, creating waves along the way; when the two shirtless figures resurface, you catch a glint of Chris's lip ring and a glimpse of Felix's blond hair. The two of them are quick to swim toward you two, their laughter echoing across the silent cosmos of forest and the night.

"Fuck, that was incredible," Chris remarks, brushing his hair away from his face.

"Agreed," Felix adds, a little out of breath.

Mingi holds you tighter to him and you realise he had started to lose his hold on you. "I think me and Liyah are going to swim to the shore."

"Yeah, wait for us. I don't think I have enough guts to do this a second time," Felix sputters, spitting out a mouthful of water.

"You're no fun, Felix." Chris comments, and he's interrupted by couple of yells.

Jiyeon and San were next, followed by Yunho and Alexis when a long beat passes; you were still strapped to Mingi's waist, and realising you had been weighing him down, you take the effort to push yourself off of him and remain solitary. Even so, Mingi stays close by you, trying to support you to stay afloat. Water sloshes even more when Jiyeon and San join you all. Jiyeon comes up for air, coughing out water and slicking her hair back; San is right behind her, snickering deeply as though he was enjoying himself.

"I am never letting you guys talk me into anything like this!" Jiyeon complains, her hair clinging to her face.

San heaves out a chuckle, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down in the water. Jiyeon is taken off guard, and as she comes back on the surface, courtesy of San to pull her back up, she gasps for air, panting and coughing.

"You're—you're fucking dead Choi San." She aims a punch at him, and it lands perfectly against his shoulder.

"What, it was fun! You should step out of your comfort zone more often, Ji." San dodges a couple of punches until she stops; Jiyeon was shivering.

Yunho and Alexis were swimming side by side, listening to the two make a chaos. Your eyes had never left Yunho in that moment, the second he and Alexis resurfaced, you couldn't stop staring at him. Shirtless, his skin glimmered against the moonlight, the water coated his skin in a thin sheet while his ashen blue hair was drenched and stuck to his forehead. He tries to pick at a few strands, pushing them away to expose his forehead. Panting softly, he lets a smile stretch his lips. Though when his eyes landing on you and Mingi, his smile disappears.

"Don't tease her, Sannie," Alexis groans, "if you like her so much, just be straightforward. All the teasing is too old school."

Jiyeon's cheeks turn red, striking vividly under the moonlight. "Shut up, Alexis."

"Maybe she has a point," Yunho adds, "the teasing and mocking tactic is useless with girls now. They need men who are more candid."

Chris chortles, "we all know how straightforward you've been, Yun. Maybe a little too much to have a reputation around high school."

"Oh please," Yunho retorts, laughing along with him, "girls practically threw themselves at me, then."

"And you were a man with principles to not let their efforts be vain." Mingi mumbles, nonchalantly.

"Come on, guys," you chime in, a smile curling your lips, "we all know who had a reputation in high school. So, pinpointing Yunho isn't proving anything. Especially you, Chris."

"Miss congeniality is at her man's rescue again." Chris replies, rolling his eyes at you.

"Hey, leave it, Chris." Yunho speaks up, leaning back into the water, "it's a beautiful night, why ruin it on something so trivial. Let's put our differences aside for a night, huh?"

Mingi agrees, "yeah, I'm with him on this. We're all seeing each other after what, months? Weeks? Years? It'd be stupid to argue anyway."

"I think the bonding can happen out of the water too, because I'm not staying in here for a long time," you add, and earn a couple of hums in response; Alexis, Jiyeon and Felix had agreed to you.

And to your unbridled surprise, they are the first ones to swim towards the shore. There isn't much distance between you and the shore. From your better judgement, it must be, give or take, 10 metres from where you were. Hurtling a soft squeak, you begin swimming away from your group of friends. Mingi is right next to you, paddling through the water; when the water starts shallowing you out, you know you've reached the grimly edge of the landmass extending into the lake. You pace yourself and get on your feet, skimming over the washed borderline and stepping on the gravel.

"Definitely refreshing." You remark, smiling at Mingi who's walking out of the water.

"What else would you need on a summer night?" he chortles, stretching his arms over his head, "do you wanna go again?"

"I wish," you sigh, shuffling your hair to get some water out, "I don't want to catch a cold."

"Understandable," he mutters.

"I'm never trusting you ever again, Mingi." Jiyeon scoffs, "this was dangerous. Way dangerous. What if the water was infested with crocodiles? Or um, snakes? Had you given it any thought before dragging us here?"

"Oh, please," Felix pipes in, "it's a small lake, it can't be that bad."

Alexis giggles, "lakes can be a home for many creatures; snakes are one of them."

"Oh, my lord," Jiyeon groans, "I'm going to kill San."

"So, I'm thinking you're not going to stay around for long?" Alexis instigates and Jiyeon nods her head, crossing her arms over her chest, "I'm not. And neither is San."

"May gods bless thee," Mingi mocks, rubbing his hand over his face, "what about you, Liyah? Staying for another round?"

"I actually don't want to..." you trail off, eyeing behind him as Yunho walks out of the water, followed by Chris and San. "But I was here with Yunho, and I don't think he'd want to leave any sooner."

"I can drop you off," Mingi shrugs, stepping close to you.

"Drop who off?" Yunho repeats, shaking his head like a puppy to get rid of the water in his hair.

Alexis streamlines to his side, subtly, however. Yunho doesn't pay her any mind for the time being, his attention solely focused on you and Mingi. You couldn't concentrate on the matter at hand because you were too distracted by Yunho's bare figure; his body wasn't as buff as Chris or Mingi, or even San for that matter, but he was well built at places he should be. For some reason, you couldn't quite take your eyes off his body, his lower half precisely. The way his briefs stuck to his thighs and crotch, defined the very vague details of his cock. At least now you know what the girls in high school had been talking about, all those rumours of him being 'huge' were starting to reappear in your mind. And you could say, those were no rumours. Those were facts.

"Oh, Liyah wants to go home." Mingi replies, bringing you out of your daze, "since she came with you..."

You step in, feeling the need to be clearer and firmer, "well it seems like you want to stay here for a little longer and I don't want to ruin it for you."

"I can leave with you if you want," Yunho deadpans.

"No, it's fine," you mutter, eyes glazing over Alexis who was now shooting you daggers with her own, "you're meeting everyone after a long time. Might as well enjoy that while it lasts. Mingi already offered, so it's really fine."

"Yeah, we aren't staying around either," Jiyeon scowls, stomping over to San and grabbing him by his arm, "you're leaving with me. And dare if you invite me back for something stupid like this, again."

"Okay, ma'am," San offers a two-finger salute as she drags him along by the arm; he looks over his shoulder and frowns, "I gotta go, homies. Have more fun in my stead."

Jiyeon rolls her eyes at his dramatic speech. Felix catches up with the two and informs us, turning around for a mere second. "This was fun guys, but I think I'll leave too. Don't go too crazy."

"Are you sure you want to be a third wheel between them?" Chris questions, stroking his lower lip to adjust his lip ring.

Felix rolls his eyes and blows a raspberry, giving him a thumbs down. You shift in your place and tug on Mingi's hand, "I think we should leave too."

Mingi nods, looking down at you, "sure." he then turns to others, "be careful, lads."

"We're hiking back up with you, dodo." Alexis rolls her eyes, pushing herself close to Yunho's side; she let her chest brush against his back, eventually she takes his arm in her hold and drags him ahead.

Finding Yunho's gaze fixated on you while he stumbles on his feet along her, the suffocation in the pit of your stomach rises. You wonder what he was thinking, or if he was simply acting out on his jealousy. Though when you look at him sticking to Alexis like that, all your sentiments regarding him, shatter to pieces. While a tinge of envy does arise in your heart, it also brings you a little peace knowing, you had somewhat managed to make him jealous too. An eye for an eye. Only you were waiting for the time when both of you would go blind.

Mingi wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you with him. His warmth is a little treat to yourself, and his presence was your saving grace. You and Mingi were good friends, not as good as you were with Yunho, but you were getting there. As said before, you and Mingi did share a good time together on the night of your graduation party. Something which you had kept under the wraps to prevent your friends from gossiping, or overall prevent Yunho from knowing about it. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't fully give his doubts away. He kept suspecting you and Mingi for a few months, until he let go of it in all and moved on from his silly suspicions.

After hiking up the small, elevated terrain to the parking spot, barefoot and wet, you find San, Jiyeon and Felix drying themselves off to the wind. They have their clothes strewn on the trunk of San's car. Jiyeon shivers slightly, coming her hand through her wet hair. Felix and San are busy in a conversation, least bothered about the gauzy cold. In a haste, Chris walks over from behind you and stumbles to his car; he opens the driver's door and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the side pockets on the door.

So he was a smoker, now. Great.

"I'll go get our clothes. Wait here." Mingi smiles at you, leaving you by his car and disappearing down the inscrutable tracks.

You lean against the trunk of his car, arms over your chest, contemplating and agonisingly listening to Alexis use her pitched voice to flirt with Yunho. Her secondhand compliments were giving you secondhand embarrassment. How can Yunho even tolerate her? Maybe he was too distracted by the way her tits were spilling out of her bra. And you couldn't give a fuck. It's ironic, isn't it? He was minutes away from confessing his feelings for you and now he's sticking to someone who's not. And it all happened because you were too proud in your ways to dally with him.

"Anyone wants to join us for late night dinner?" San announces, "we're going to Amelia's."

Chris raises his hand, "count me in."

Felix retorts, "I thought you were prepared for a round two of diving."

"Maybe now I'm having second thoughts." He blows out a smoke and slams the car door shut. "I wouldn't mind going for a bite."

Yunho shrugs, "me too. All that swimming famished me. And I cannot resist Amelia's deli sandwich."

"Count me in too," Alexis sings, "we both have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?" she bats her lashes at Yunho, who smiles down at her, whispering, "of course, we do. And we need to test all the things you've been texting me."

You don't catch on the very last of his words as they get too inaudible to perceive, but from the smirk on his face, you knew he had double intentions to it.

"What about you, Liyah?" Jiyeon asks and you shake your head, "I'll have to take a rain check. It's just that I'm not hungry. I just want to jump in my bed and knock myself out."

Till the time you reply to her, Mingi comes back with both of your clothes and your sandals. He already had his shoes on when you glance at his feet. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Going to Amelia's, wanna join?" Chris says.

Mingi waves his free hand in the air, "sounds fun, but I don't think I can tolerate that place anymore. You guys can go."

"Alright," Jiyeon mumbles, "so, you and Liyah aren't coming with us..."

Alexis takes on the hint, "they probably want to get busy for the night."

"A late night check in at the hotel vag. Nice work, Mingi." San quips.

Mingi rolls his eyes, "think whatch'ya wanna."

Your flustered cheeks leave no room for others to think of the obvious, or whatever that had been cooking in their heads; Yunho, however, wasn't too impressed by anyone's remarks, neither was he too fond your cherry glazed cheeks. He wasn't the reason why you were blushing; it was Mingi. His ego doesn't let him believe it.

Mingi ignores the low sounding hoots from his friends and hands you your clothes, the camisole and shorts, alongside your kimono. Your lingerie was still drenched in water, and it would be more sensible if you remove them before wearing your clothes. He puts your sandals in front of your feet, and you slip into them easily; keeping the clothes on his car's trunk, you glance at Mingi with hesitance and then clear your throat.

"Do you have anything to cover me while I... you know...get rid of my wet underwear?" you whisper to him, keeping your words between the two of you only. Not that you were worried about other's overhearing you, because they were too engrossed in themselves to be bothered about you two anymore.

Without saying anything, Mingi goes around his car and pulls out the passenger's door; he has a black jacket slung on his forearm as he makes his way back to you.

"Would this work?"

"Sure." You tell him, "just hold it up, I'll change behind it."

Mingi's cheeks turn red, visibly red. "Are you sure you want me to do it and not..."

"He's busy wooing Alexis for the night, so..." you walk to the front of the car, where one side of it was shrouded with darkness and dense branches of trees.

Mingi does as you suggest him to, holding his oversized jacket up to create a curtain for you to change behind it. You quickly get out of the wet bra and panties, and pull your camisole over your head, then the shorts follow. It feels eldritch at first to wear your clothes without your underwear, but you had no other choice but to. Once you settle into it, there's no awkwardness against your skin, and you tell Mingi to lower the jacket. The man had his eyes closed and head turned at all times, showing off his gentlemanliness.

"That was fast," he continues, "for your information, I wasn't looking at all."

"That's fine, Mingi." You laugh and walk past him.

He's right behind you, "but I think you still have a little bit of issue?"

You glance down at your camisole to find your nipples hard and poking through the soft material. "Oops, I actually do."

Mingi gives you his jacket, without hesitating. "Put it on. I'll be back soon."

You shrug his jacket over. It reeked of his scent, a little bit of nicotine and cinnamon musk. The jacket covered almost everything of you, reaching till your mid thighs. It kept you warm, maybe a little warmer than you had liked it to be. Joining the others, you stand next to Jiyeon, waiting for Mingi as he changes into his clothes where you had changed.

"Ooh, Mingi's jacket, isn't it?" Jiyeon teases, noticing you standing next to her.

You scoff, "it's not what you think."

Unconsciously or consciously, your eyes scatter in search of Yunho amongst the familiar faces. He's not there, neither is Alexis. Your stomach rumbles with jealousy, only a little.

"Don't look for him, he's not here," Chris slurred his words.

"Him and Alexis have gone to bring their clothes and stuff," San shrugs, "are you trying to make him jealous, Liyah?"

"Me? Jealous? Me making him jealous? Oh please," you roll your eyes, scoffing.

"Just thought, because he's been riling you up for nothing; him and Alexis are getting on your nerves it seems." San adds.

Mingi whistles along, marking his presence next to you and while he does, Yunho and Alexis walk out of the dark, hand in hand, both smiling at each other for some apparent reason. You twist your nose and look away, turning yourself to Mingi, you cling by his arm and bury it in between your tits. Mingi is obviously taken back by your stern action, and so does it catch Yunho and the other's off guard.

"Let's go, Mingi," you pout, looking up at him, "we should leave. I'm cold and I want to take a nice warm shower with you."

San rolls his eyes. Chris scoffs. Jiyeon snickers. And Felix curses under his breath, annoyed by your act. They all knew you were pretending and playing along. But Yunho didn't. He believed every word you said and clenched his jaw, tight enough for his cheek to twitch. Alexis was on the same boat as him, believing your frolicsome ruse.

Mingi clears his throat, tugging a few strands of your hair behind your ear and lets his eyes linger on you. It was driving him insane to not do anything at this moment, because somewhere along the lines, he never stopped liking you. He was ready to compromise his silly love for you, all for yours and Yunho's sake.

It takes a minute for Mingi to form his words. "Eager, aren't we?"

"Oh come on, you silly." you slap his chest, playfully, yet Mingi yelps in pain. "We've got a lot of catching up to do and let's be honest, it's not going to happen while we're still here."

"You're right about that," he chimes, looking up, "we'll see you guys later, or at the summer camp. Don't forget, you guys gave me your names for volunteering. Don't back out now, or else there'll be consequences." Mingi warns them, earning a round of groans and whines.

Mingi slips one of his hands around your waist and hides you to his car; San yells out from behind, "wear a glove when making love!"

You could clearly hear Yunho scoff amid the teasing from your friends, but you choose not to react to it. You're suppressing your queasy emotions to yourself, bottling them quite nicely as you get in Mingi's car and strap yourself in. The engine roars when Mingi revives it and pulls out of the parked space.

The ride along with Mingi isn't quiet, no, not at all. Passing by the night of crippling elation, and unsaid judgments, you stare out of the window and ponder. You stole a few glances from Mingi, who hummed an unsung melody under his breath. The chunky rings on his thumbs and fingers, tapped an obscure tune on the steering, an addition to his dilly dally singing. You both had things to say, many more feelings to state and confide, yet you were caught up amid a war of who'd be the first to go.

Mingi clears his throat, "is he still so oblivious or chooses to play dumb?"

You groan, softly in your mind thinking about Yunho and his stupidity. "I don't know, Min! He can't be so blind to all the times I've came through for him."

"So, you think he chooses to play dumb?"

"Maybe, he thinks we don't have a future," you mumble, turning to face him, "and maybe he is right. We can't even be sure of the present to talk about our future. We push and pull, and we'll continue pushing and pulling until one of us breaks and blurts out everything."

Mingi tries to figure out how he would respond to your said comments. In actuality, he had the same idea about the two of you.

He sighs, "you have to take a stand, Liyah. Let him know."

"I know."

And the night dissolves your mind in the haphazard nonchalance of nothingness.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

             Five days volunteering at the summer camp, and you were drained. It wasn't easy looking after kids, they're moody, picky eaters, and rebels. Though for some contemplative reasons, your experience with the kids wasn't as bad as it was with Yunho. In the sheer curiosity of nature, you were left alone; speaking in simpler terms, you and Yunho had a rift between each other, leading to no interactions over the span of this summer camp. You spent most of your time volunteering anyway, so it didn't matter. Not exactly when you also had Mingi's assistance to you for every little thing.

You and Mingi had bonded over the time, it would be the same with you and the others. Talking to your fellow friends, you come to learn how they were handling their lives. Jiyeon is working part time with an animal rescue NGO. San has dropped out of college and chose to be on a professional parkour team. Chris continues to be a menace in his medical school. Felix is an artist's understudy and manages his studies at the art school. And Alexis is pursuing her long-lost passion for being a fashion designer. They're all busy in their lives, headed for the future and passionate about their careers. Catching up with them would be the best moment of coming back here.

"And last summer, she wore my designed outfit!" Alexis chimes in full excitement. "You know, that's when I felt accomplished as a fashion designer."

"It's one of the most famous music artists in our country right now, I wouldn't second guess your happiness." Yunho compliments her, hugging her close to his body.

As the day had passed, all the kids were back to their homes, and as you had time to spare, Mingi suggested ending the night on a jovial note. The night dragged on to be a beautiful one with a full moon high struck in the sky, and what is better than a campfire to spend such an alluring night? You were all sitting in circles, surrounding the fiery pit of fire, the scent of burning wood nuzzling into your nose and the warmth of the fire settling into your skin. The fire crackles far too often, dissipating in the mellow undertones of your chatters. On the scattered logs, you sat next to Mingi; there were two people on each log. Chris and Felix were together, Jiyeon and San were snuggling up right next to you and Mingi, and Yunho and Alexis were sitting opposite to you two. There were other volunteers too; the eccentric teens of the town had left early, leaving your group of friends to luxuriate in the night.

Rising flames of the fire interrupted most my view, but not much. You could catch the glimpses of Yunho and Alexis being touchy and feely, some part of you absolutely despised it while the other waited around for everything to unfold. Mingi gave you solidarity, supporting your crazy notions as the time rolled around. Jiyeon and San were acting very much like a couple; it's not surprising considering they moved to the same city, rent a same apartment, and live together. It was bound to happen one way or another. Chris and Felix did not disclose their love life just yet, not that you know of.

"It was the best feeling ever," Alexis sings, adjusting herself by Yunho's side.

Yunho lets her do as she pleases; he wraps his arm around her waist to pull her close; their bodies seemed to be conjoined and it did not bode well with you.

Yunho chuckles, "of course, it was..."

Their voices die to mere whispers in your mind, you're too fixated on Mingi's feeble attempts at easing you out. He rubbed circles on the curve of your back, his warmth was more intense than compared to the fire in front of you; but seemingly you had started to burn for a completely different reason.

"You have to do something, Liyah." Mingi speaks up, "you can't let her win. Alexis only wants to parade Yunho around for her own sake. He's a trophy wife for her."

"You think I don't know that Mingi?" you bark, taking him off guard. Your aggression wasn't limited to yourself anymore, it was directed at Yunho too. "No one can love him like I do."

He pulls you in for a side hug, embracing your body with his as he leans his head on yours. Pushing you against his chest, he brings his hand to stroke through your hair.

"I know that." He mumbles, "everyone here knows that. Except for him. He's a blind dick, just be upfront with him."

You raise your head from his chest and deadpan, "geez, I never thought of that. Thanks a lot, Mingi."

"Happy to help," he replies back, catching up on your satire. "I'm being serious though. Ask him to meet you at your—oh no..."

Mingi's eyes had been trained on you, but when he takes them off, only for a second, he's met with a catastrophic happening. Brazen and curious, you nudge your neck in the direction his eyes were stuck in. And the ground under your feet opens wide, ready to swallow you.

Yunho and Alexis were kissing. Yes. They were swallowing each other's mouth, and it was a sight you couldn't bear. So, you do what any sensible woman would do, after seeing her crush kissing someone who's not her. You storm off. You run away. You're quick on your feet, untwining Mingi's arms from you and scurrying off into the wild dark. Mingi's protests aren't enough to stop, neither are the silent ones coming from others; you're scampering in your boots to get away from the campfire spot as fast as you could. Only, you hadn't realise that someone else had followed you right after.

For the first time in his years of friendship with you, Yunho was feeling utterly helpless. Disappointing you was never on his list; he didn't want to let you down either. He didn't think he'd break your heart by playing a wicked game of push and pull. He took it too far. Obviously. In the middle of the dense forest, he's in your pursuit; his feet are in synch with yours, but his pace makes him fall behind. He was listening to you sob and sniffle and to him, those were the most vulnerable sounds he had ever heard from you.

"Liyah, wait!" he yells, and you slow down.

Walking on the graveled ground, a path leading to the set of cabins situated at distance from each other, you stop and turn. You find him behind you, right behind you. Remorse evident in his eyes, and his lips quivering; you couldn't bear to see him like that. Never in your years of friendship had you seen him like that. The happy go lucky guy had a frown on his face, tears in his eyes, and guilt painted all over his skin. Of course, you'd be astonished to find him in such condition.

Moonlight breaks through the branches of the tall trees around you, the scent of mildew and moss spreading to the moisture baring air; his face shrouded with darkness, lights up when he steps into one of the moonbeams. And he's breathtaking. He always was.

"What do you want, Yunho?" you spit, spitefully.

"Can we talk?"

"I don't want to talk to you," you state and turn on your heels, ready to storm off again.

Though, before you could even take a step ahead, you're pulled back into something hard; a tight grip on your wrist burns through your skin and constraints any movement from you.

"What?" you gasp, peeking through your squinted eyes to find Yunho's staring right into yours.

You're pressed up against his chest, cheeks turning red when you realise how close you two were. There hadn't been a time where you were so close to each other. With how blatantly the proximity had dithered between you two, you couldn't think straight. Even so, you try to snatch your hand away from his grasp, wanting to be free of his hold. He doesn't let you, he doesn't even budge when you're using all your strength to get his hand off your wrist; you started clawing at his hand, but that didn't work either.

"I told you I don't want to talk to you," you state, firmly.

"But I want to." He whispers, "please, hear me out."

You press your lips together, letting your hand fall down to your side; his skin broke with your nail marks, blood clotting under, waiting to ooze out. Time stands still here, amid the inky phases of your heart; forest speaks of nothing, no sound at all, letting your hearts beating in the while. As the clouds shift against the nightly breeze, the moon hits your faces, lighting up your eyes.

"Okay," you mutter, "I'll hear you out."

He clears his throat and let's go of your hand. Taking a step back from you, he runs a hand through his hair, which falls disheveled on his forehead. Accustomed to his growing silence, you have half a mind of turning away and sprinting back to your cabin.

"What you saw with—what you saw with Alexis, it wasn't my—"

You interrupt him, "it wasn't your fault. I get it. She was the one who came onto you. You had no hand in this..." he looks less guilty hearing you, so you add, "don't bullshit me, Yunho. It always takes two—takes two. Neither of you are innocent."

As your voice breaks, the light in Yunho's eyes starts dwindling down. "Liyah, please..."

"What, Yunho?" you sniff and tears well in your eyes, "you want to justify your behaviour? You want to validate how you feel about me? What do you want?"

Being pushed past your limits, you shake your head and close your eyes shut; turning on your heels, you stride down the vague path leading to the cabins where you were staying in. You must've taken a couple of steps ahead, about to take another when your world spins around; it only stops when you're pushed up against a nearby tree. The way your back hits the trunk causes pain to strike your spine; but then you also realise how confined you were to it, with Yunho's hands holding you down by your shoulders.

"Don't piss me off, Liyah." He states, leaning in close to let his breath tickle your face. "That'd be very detrimental of you to do so."

"Am I pissing you off now, oh." you deadpan, placing your hands on his chest to shove him away. That seemed like the only viable option for you. "I'm so sorry."

"Keep your sarcasm to yourself, Liyah," he mutters, inching closer to let his lips brush against yours, "you want to know why I let Alexis play me like a violin?"

He takes your silence for a yes and continues, "because I wanted to know what your heart truly desires. Did it even want me, or was I just fantasizing a future between us which doesn't really exist?"

"You could've asked me," you mumble, your lips quivering as your stomach twists inside, "you could've asked me, and I would've been upfront with you, Yunho."

Tears spill out of your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. He couldn't watch you cry. Looking away for a second, he trains his now teary eyes on you.

"Asked?" he repeats, "Liyah, we've both been lying to each other since our senior year in high school." His hands slide down to your waist, wrapping around to maintain some distance between you and the tree trunk. "We would've never been real with each other. Let alone, even confessing to each other felt like such a task for us."

"Then what were you trying to do, Yunho?" you mumble, keeping your hands on his chest, "you kissed Alexis. And before that, you gave me hope that we could be together. Now, you're saying we should've been more straightforward with each other. You're not making sense."

"I know I'm not," he grumbles, "because nothing makes sense to me now. I thought you'd confess to me on the rooftop, I had prepared a long ass speech for you, confessing my feelings too. But then, you brought up Mingi—"

"—nothing ever happened between me and Mingi," you intervene, letting your lips form a frown, "the night of our graduation party, he did ask me out. But I turned him down. You know why? Because I liked you." Suffocating under his gaze, you take a deep breath and continue, "I didn't want to start something with him if it meant I had to break him soon. Because I was too hopeful for either of us to make a sound. I was eager to be in a relationship with you. I was impatient to tell you how badly I had fallen for you. But then, we never said anything. We only ruined it for us. How long were we going to yearn in silence?"

Yunho takes a moment to process your words, your phrases of sheer truth before he instigates, "so, you and Mingi...?"

"No, we're not together," you shake your head, groaning softly as you push your body into his; your hands slip from his chest to the either side of his waist.

"Ah really?" he rasps, resting his forehead on yours, "then I wouldn't mind making a sound. I like you too, Liyah. Oh, to hell with it, I think I love you."

You bite back on chuckle, rubbing the sides of his waist as you lean into his touch. "I think I'm falling in love with you too."

"Hmm," he hums before grunting in pure impatience, "ah, fuck it."

In a fraction of a second, his lips meet yours, capturing a daze of lust and hunger before melting into utter passion. He delicately cups your face, the palms of his hands ever so softly caressing your keeps; he tilts your head slightly, giving him the chance to deepen the kiss. You're drowning in the way his lips lay so gentle against yours. Basking his lips into yours, you whimper as frailly as you could, bringing your hands up to his shoulders for support.

The kiss only grows deeper than before, with him pushing his body into yours and keeping your chest flushed against his. Desperation is evident in the sound of his grunt, and in the way his chest rumbles; his teeth sink in your lower lip, thumbs pressing your cheekbones before pulling himself back and letting go of your lower lip. He watches your lip wobble with amusement, smirking to himself as you whine almost inaudibly.

"You know, we were chasing stars in the dark, blindfolded," he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose with yours, not moving quite back yet. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, causing tremors to creep on your skin. "We couldn't see our feelings for each other, but at least we knew they were there."

"Yeah yeah, I get it," you huff out, pulling him by the collar of his jacket, "I've waited too long for you, now, why don't you shut up and kiss me?"

"Yes, ma'a—" you tug him down, putting your lips on his to shut him up.

Grasping onto the collar of his jacket, you push yourself into him; your toes curl in your boots upon feeling the lushness of his lips. You're far too gone to resist your desires. All the years of curbing your carnality for him had led up to this moment, where you're kissing him back as ravenously as you could. The hunger is evident in the way his lips move against yours; he bites down on your lower lip, eliciting a murmured gasp from you. The dainty vibration of your noise gets absorbed in the kiss, breaking out into a small and heated make out sesh under the starlight.

Yunho's hands slip away from your face, grazing past your collarbones and then down to your waist. He brings your hips into his, heedlessly grinding his crotch on yours. The feelings make you an airhead, too dazed to realise when his tongue had slithered past your swollen lips and into your mouth. His sloppy, wet and warm tongue plays with yours; its roughness melts when you tackle his tongue with your own, moaning. This was too much, too much all at once; his hips rolling into yours, showing you how eager he was to take you right there and then. You couldn't really believe how desperate he was, or how you could sense the hardness of his cock through his trousers.

Your mind goes blank, chest heaving into his as your body goes erratic to him shoving his tongue down your throat. He twists and turns it inside, plunging down further to touch extreme end of your palate. His tongue almost makes you gag, but neither of you pull away. Not even when your lungs were crumpling and urging you to take a breath. His fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks through your nifty tank top. Heat starts rising up your cheeks, tipping off every inch of your body when you come to your senses; you were kissing Yunho. The Jeong Yunho whom you had been crushing over for years.

The wait was worth it.

Yunho gasps as he pushes back, taking a deep breath in through his mouth and you watch his chest rise invariably.

"I think we should take this inside," he pecks your lips, "I can't bear this any longer. I fucking need you..."

You brush his hair, letting your fingers tangle in his silky strands while you swipe your tongue on his lower lip. "Do you really?"

He grunts, sounding deep and dark; before you could do anything else to him, he grabs both of your hands by their wrists and pins them above your head. Diving back in to resume the covetous kiss, he sucks on your lips, akin to shut you up. You let him devour you, quite literally; his teeth scrape over your lower lip and you bite back a whimper. His other hand teasingly drags to the hem of your tank top; wasting a second, tracing light circles on your skin, he lets his fingers divulge under first. The cold tips of his fingers delineate strokes until his whole hand is under your top. His fingertips graze the lower part of your tit, teasing you.

He breaks the kiss through halfway again, pushing your body down from the way he held your hands.

"Are you fucking talking back to me?" he leans in to kiss you again, but doesn't really; his lips hover onto yours, so painfully close yet so far away. "Yeah, I fucking need you. I've been craving all of you for the past six years. Your lips, your heart, your soul, I want to touch it all."

"I'm not stopping you, am I?" you whisper, lurching forward to kiss him but he's quick, and tilts his head away. You pout, "you're a—"

He doesn't let you finish and kisses you, stealing your breath away. "Baby, I'm incharge. You better not open your mouth for anything other than moaning and whimpering like the sweet little girl you are."

You nod, humming.

"That's my good girl, now..." he drags his voice to a grumble; he lets go of your hands and instead, hooks his around your knees and picks you up.

"Yunho!" you gasp as you're lifted and slung on his shoulder. His other hand comes to cup your ass, while the one supporting you stays around your waist.

He doesn't respond to you and carries you away from the dark; the upside down view of yours tells you exactly where he was taking you. Catching the glimpse of your cabin, and the bright light on porch of the cabin, you anticipate what's to come. The cabin door is shoved open inside, too harshly to keep it from making any sound. As the vibrations of the thud drown out, you're thrown on the twin sized bed of your cabin.

It's dark, not pitch black, but dimly lit because of the moonlight flooding through the sole window situated above the bed. You huff in stifling annoyance, laying on the bed and supporting yourself by your elbows. Hearing bellicose shuffles from Yunho, you peek up to find him taking his jacket off. It is then thrown on the floor, leaving him in only his black trousers and a pale blue button-down shirt. Amidst the darkness, he meets your eyes, and they don't waver one bit; he crawls onto the bed, and you saunter back till you hit the wooden wall behind you.

"What, are you scared?" he prances close to you, like a predator approaching its prey. You shake your head, and he chuckles, "you can use your words, sometimes."

You purse your lips together, not wanting to utter a sound because you were sure it'd have its own consequences. Squeezing your thighs together, to try not to make it seem obvious that you were beyond aroused, feeling your slick drench your panties and your shorts. Yunho's body shudders visibly as he lets out a harmless laugh, bringing his hands to roam your body before they end up around your waist. He's trapped you against the wooden panelling behind, with his body pressed up against you instead. Moonlight hits his eyes, illuminating the sheer lust in them; pools of melted honey had suddenly succumbed to their darkness. He's perfectly slotted in between your legs, and you take merest of efforts to wrap them around his waist. With an arch of your back, your hips buck into his and your cunt is in direct contact with his raging erection.

"Okay, don't want to speak?" he whispers, tracing the tip of his nose along your cheek and gliding it further down, "fine. Don't. I'll be getting some sounds out of you, anyway."

Yunho likes how you were so desperate for him, how you were rolling your hips to get more friction; practically grinding on his cock, you tried to gauge how big he was. You always knew from the rumours that he was huge, but this was the moment where you'd be witnessing it for yourself. He bites down your lips, before pulling back and sticking his tongue out. You do the same and bring him closer to you by wrapping your hands around his neck. Expecting him to kiss you, you're left stunned when he sucks on your tongue instead. He sucks on it as if it was a piece of candy.

The sloppy sucking turns into sloppy kissing, and you groan into the kiss, intertwining your fingers in few strands of his hair falling over his neck. Yunho chortles, grinding his hips on your cunt to show how hard he was now. You can't think straight; first of all, it's starting to get dark in the cabin, second of all, Yunho's lips had been driving your insane, and third of all, his cock was rigid and feeling it through your clothes was starting to turn you off. Yunho breaks the kiss, pulling back just a little; translucent strings of spit cover both of your lips, keeping them in an illusion of being attached.

A mischievous smirk curls on his Yunho's lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck; leaving back bruises, he bites and sucks on your flesh. He knew your weak spot, you had shared it to him the day you had lost your virginity; it was a mistake telling him, because he was figuratively, abusing it for you. The spot lied three fingers below your earlobe, and he was nibbling on the exact spot to bring out the worst in you. It's gonna be bruised purple and blue, and Yunho's going to take the pride in it.

"Yunho!" you gasp and moan, tilting your head to a side to let him have better angle to abuse your neck. Lost in the wind of pleasure, you let your hands slide down his back, resting delicately on his shoulder blades.

"I know," his smirk widens, "did you think I wouldn't remember it?"

The clutter of his whisper melts to silence. His hands which had been on your waist for all this time, were starting to creep up. Except, he had the hem of your tank top in his hold. Pulling it up to your collarbone, he mumbles incoherent words against your neck as your tits spill out. You did not find it practical to wear a bra after your evening shower, and now that you think about it, you made a good decision not to. Yunho's cheeks turn an alluring shade of red upon catching a glimpse of your perky tits.

There had been accidental glances before, whenever you'd wear low cut tops or dresses, even your strapless tops exposed much more of your cleavage than you would intend on. Yunho respected your body, and the boundaries which were conspicuous in a friendly way; he might not be so blatant about it, but on a night or two, you were the starlight of his fantasies while he jerked off. In fact, he would've sworn off on his own words, if it weren't for your thoughts helping him 'get it on' with his ex-girlfriends. He would never disclose that to you, would he? During those moments however, whenever he'd be struck by post-nut clarity, he'd feel ashamed and guilty.

Well, not anymore.

Your body is bewitching, making him lose his senses; the movement of his hips ceases in a sudden state, wrenching out more desperation from you as you heedlessly keep bucking yourself into him. You wonder what made him stop, and your curiosity is sated almost immediately when he pushes himself back and supports himself on his knees. His sleek fingers work on the buttons of his shirt, coming undone one by one. He doesn't take off his shirt just yet only unbuttons the top half of it while leaning over to capture your lips in a head spinning kiss.

His lap on yours, devouring the sweet essence; you press on a moan, rolling yourself into him and pushing your bare chest against his. The soft material of shirt rests over your tits, tickling the pit of your stomach as you continue to push your chest into his. Yunho's chest collapses with a guttural moan, pulling himself away from the kiss. He offers you a smirk, before using his hands to pull the tank top over your head. It's off and thrown on the floor, keeping you bare on your top half for him.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks you, cheeks still red and alluring. Leaning over, he rests his forehead on yours, and lets his lips brush against yours.

You let your hands hover on his back, dipping your fingers only for their tips to lightly ghost along till you wrap them around the nape of his neck and pull him in. "Yeah, as sure as I've been about my feelings for you."

"There's no going back after this," he cups a side of your face and pecks your lips, "so, if you're having second thoughts, just tell me."

"I'm not," you mumble, breathlessly pressing your lips with his, "I want this. I know you want it too."

"Well, I've been wanting this since the day I got myself to fall for you." He smiles, bringing one of his hands to grab yours on the back of his neck. "A lot of things have happened in my mind since then, a lot of fantasies, a lot of desires..."

Before you could ask him about them, he quickly grabs your hand and pins it over your head; he does the same for your other hand, and ignoring your whines, he constraints both of your hands with his one. He's back to rolling his crotch onto yours, giving you the sensory stimulation of his erection through your clothes. The urge to rid yourself from the confines of your shorts was beyond anything, wanting to be naked for him to grind himself on you. As if that thought wasn't enough to make you wet, you were actually clenching at the friction of his cock against your cunt.

The shorts had to go. And his clothes too. You were mewling despair, having never considered yourself desperate for someone's cock as much as you're right now. His knees sunk into the mattress underneath, while your legs remain wrapped around his waist; he slides his free hand down to the waistband of your shorts, fingers fumbling to unbutton and pull them off.

"I just need to know you're okay with everything I have to do."

"Do you need a written consent now?" you groan, annoyed and irritated. "You can do whatever you want, I have no complaints."

"Be careful with what you say," he warns you, forcing his hips into yours to give you more of him. "I don't want you crying later on."

"What do you take me for?" you stick your tongue out, "I have been with many guys before you."

"Did you really have to mention that?" he grunts, pushing his hand past the waistband of your shorts; while his other hand kept yours bound above your head, he was making the best with his one free hand. "I'll teach you a lesson, make you forget about everyone in your past."

"I'll like to see you try—ah fuck, Yunho!" you gasp, fisting your hands tighter when his fingers press on your clit.

"That's right, scream my name," he growls, burying his head in the crook of neck and biting your flesh harshly.

You were going to have red and blue splotches littered all over your skin tomorrow; and that would make it everyone obvious of yours and his nightly venture. Yunho's teeth sink further while his fingers slither along your slit, rubbing you up and down through your panties, making you moan out loud.

"Yunho..."

"Huh, what is it?" he mumbles against your skin, licking the spots he had marked and bitten.

"Please..."

"I don't understand one-word answers, doll," he chuckles, the vibrations preening your skin. "Be clear and say what you want. I'll give it to you."

"Fuck—fuck you," you say out of spite, grumbling as your eyes shut close and darkness takes over. You couldn't stare at the ceiling while he abused your neck, and his fingers worked you up.

"Uh-huh," he tuts, ceasing the movements of his fingers, "what a foul mouth. Be nice or else I won't touch you at all." He brings his hands out and your eyes flutter open at the emptiness; you whine, "please, Yunho. I won't—I won't say that again."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Please..." you whine again, bucking your hips up. "I'll do whatever you want next time."

"I'm more of a provider than a receiver." His hand dives back in your shorts, his fingers rubbing you through your panties. "And I think we're wasting too much time already."

The moonlight shines through the window again, illuminating half of his face for your eyes; it hits his chin and his nose, keeping his own eyes shrouded in dark. You roll your hips into his fingers as they continue their motion, going up and down along your slit and pressing against your clit whenever they could. Squinting your eyes shut tight, you let the pleasure build and your slick grows denser in your panties; it soaks through, coating bits of his skin as he keeps rubbing you down.

"Getting wetter by the second, I see. Really fucking desperate, aren't you doll?"

He pulls himself back altogether, "keep your hands up, or else I might have to punish you."

You nod, pursing your lips together and then crossing your wrists over another to fix them above your head. In the darkness, as the moon crosses your window, you catch a glimpse of Yunho shrug out of his shirt and hold it in his hand. He keeps it to a side before grabbing your waist and pulling you down on the bed, with such ease that you felt weightless. You plop against the mattress, yelping softly as you let him do as he pleases with you.

"You know, I don't really trust you with your hands," he muses, leaning over as he brings his hand back on yours. "So, let's keep them away for the night."

Taking the sleeves of his shirt, he crosses and loops them around your wrists and then hooks them up with the short and narrow rail of the bed. The sleeves come out in front of the rail, right where the headboard and he ties a tight knot. Your hands are stretched above your head, while you're lying restrained on the bed.

"Perfect." He clicks his tongue and moves back.

Bending his knees and sinking into the mattress, he is right in between with your legs on either side of him. He supports the underside of your thighs, arching your lower back up as it gives him better control over you. Without wasting any time, he effortlessly tugs your shorts down and rids you of them. Light crumpling follows and you know your shorts are lying on the ground along with your top and his jacket. You're squirming under him, too exposed to his eyes, even though you were in your panties; tilting your head up, you peek at him and watch him wet his middle and ring finger with his spit. The sheer coat of them shines under the moonlight and you groan, already anticipating what's to come.

He smirks lightly, as he lets the pads of his fingers rub on your mound through the panties at first and then drags them painstakingly down along your slit, pressing gently against your clit along the way. With a few more strokes, your mouth falls open, moans whispering past it as he picks up his face. His spit covers your soaked panties, wetting them further and they act as your second skin; he purposely presses hard along your slit, eliciting a throaty moan before it subsides to a whine.

His fingers were off of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness and confusion. "Let's get you out of these, shall we?"

With one swift breath, he hook his fingers under the waistband one tour panties and tugs them all the way down; you're completely exposed to him, shuddering in your skin as his hungry eyes drink every detail of your cunt. Your panties loosely hang by his pinky finger, while an ordained smirk teases his lips and keeps them parted. He starts palming his crotch, closing his eyes and throwing his head back for the mere minute as his cock begins to harden in his briefs.

"Look at the sheen on those lips," he coos, amused and eyes now fixed on your cunt. And you knew he definitely wasn't talking about the lips on your face. "Fuck, doll. Were you that eager to be fucked by me? So wet and eager for me."

He's teasing you and it's turning too embarrassing for you; closing your eyes you turn your head and whine, "fuck you."

At the realisation, your eyes shot open and stare at him in pure fright, but also a little bit of anticipation. He did warn you before, to keep your mouth clean and shut; now that you had openly cursed at him, all left to do was to wait for the consequences be bestowed on you. Yunho's eyes turn dark, lost in the carnal desire and prolonging the silence before he sighs, a sigh which translates to nothing but terror for you.

"What did I tell you?" he grunts, asking you a question in his commanding tone. "I asked you to keep your mouth shut. If you got nothing better to say, then don't say anything at all...right?"

As your chest rises and falls, convulsing to his utter lust and hunger, you press your lips together and prevent from squeaking any sounds; but to your unbridled surprise, his other hand comes flying to grab your jaw and fingers poke into your cheeks. He's too rough and savage as he forces your mouth open and stuffs your panties in your mouth.

"Much better." He remarks, sinking back on his knees and in between your legs; he fixes his gaze on you, and nudges his head. "If you let that fall from your mouth, oh baby, I don't know what might happen to you."

"Nghhhh..." even your groan gets muffled, and your tongue stays flat against the floor of your mouth; the smooth material of panties does chafe your tongue, but it's only in the slightest.

"Good girl," he praises, delighting himself with a smile before placing his hands back under your thighs. "Now, I have a treat for myself."

Licking his lips, he slouches himself in a way to have his face lowered in between your legs; his warm breath ghosts over your mound, then slowly tickles your skin as it drifts to your slit and folds. He grips your thighs tightly, dentures forming in your flesh as he does. Spreading your legs apart and keeping them propped on his tight, he drools at the sight of your cunt stretching out itself. It wasn't much, but it was enough for his cock to strain painfully in his pants.

"You're so beautiful, Liyah." He mumbles, fluttering a soft kiss over your mound before going further down, "I'm jealous of all the men who got to see this beauty before me. Holy fuck—just the thought itself makes me want to ruin this tight little thing."

His words vibrate against your skin, making you moan and urging you to scream. Alas, you can't really voice your pleasure or your desires. The wispy sensation of his breath tells you how close he was to your cunt, lips hovering over and with only a slight tilt of his head, he'd be all buried in you. The warmth of his hands slowly starts creeping up your thighs, fingers splayed and pressing to create bruises on your skin.

"I have your consent to do what I want, right, Liyah?" he mumbles, cupping the lower part of your ass.

You groan out loud to answer him, finding it extremely torturous to have your hands tied and mouth gagged. Unspoken tremors spread under your skin when his thumbs press against your folds, pulling them apart to reveal the hidden details behind them. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your pink flesh blooming into delicate petals. You feel the mellow stretch burning your heart, combusting you whole as your patience run low. If your hands were free, you'd be pushing his head in between your legs, wrap your thighs around his face and suffocate on your juices.

Sadly, it was only confined to your mind as Yunho was pacing his actions slowly and steadily. His thumbs press on your fleshy folds furthermore, putting you entirely on a display for him; you swollen nub tautens, needing attention, your arousal just keeps flowing out. You throw your head back into the mattress, arching your neck and holding your tears in; this was embarrassing, but in a good way. You were utterly humiliated to have your best friend slotted in between your legs, learning and identifying every detail of your cunt.

You grumble in frustration and chagrin; all your desires and fantasies erupting a sense of pleasure and wonder in your heart.

"Fucking hell, you sound so heavenly right now." He comments, smiling.

As your stretched cunt glints with an appealing shine (from your arousal), it becomes quite difficult for Yunho to control his inner animal. He dips his head in, tongue sticking out and flat to lick up your slit first. Puckering his lips, he presses a few kisses on your mound before gurgling out a good amount of spit; the coldness of his spit trickles down, perfectly along your slit. You close your eyes even tighter than before, letting a few tears escape.

"Ynnmunnho...!" you try to spell out his name with the scream but fail miserably because of the panties bunched up in your mouth.

"I know, I fucking know, doll..." he whispers, licking and lapping up your juices mixed with his spit. "I'm going to take my time devouring you."

Soon, he's going all in. Pressing the tip of his tongue in your slit, sucking on your clit and tensing all the nerves, he's partially fucking you with his tongue. If only you were able to touch him and scream his name out, it'd be perfect. One of his hands disappears from holding you apart and reappears with its warmth on your folds. His mouth is sucking and licking your cunt, while his finger protrudes at your hole. Letting another wad of spit roll down your slit, his fingers collect it by the tips before pushing inside; his fingers had always been sleek and long, quite girthy too. At first, the stretch from his fingers stings a bit but then it subsides to sheer pleasure. It bubbles in your stomach, forcing you to arch your back and fist your hands tight enough for your knuckles to go white.

"Fuck, you're tight, doll." He remarks, chuckling to himself, "bet none of your exes did a better job at fucking you loose."

His fingers plunge further inside, while his mouth is back on your clit, suckling and slurping up the spit and your arousal. Pulling back only a centimetre, he mumbles against your skin, "such a sweet thing—tastes so sweet and perfect."

You whimper at his words, giving you sensory whiplash before you breathe in hard through your nose. There was no way you could control yourself now, you couldn't even resist your gut burning with a familiar knot tying itself in your stomach. His fingers kept a steady a pace inside, only to switch it up next second; they're thrusting in deep, squealing your walls and curling inside to brush against your g-spot. The sudden caress of his fingers against your sensitive spot, makes you moan and see stars behind your closed eyes.

Grumbling incoherently, you buck your hips into his face and his fingers slip deeper, while his tongue presses further into your clit. The wetness, the roughness and warmth of his tongue were driving you crazy to begin with, and then his fingers start moving in a scissoring manner to stretch you out. This was unbearable, agonising every muscle in your body and more importantly, it was torturing your every being to not scream his name out till you're practically unconscious with a sore throat.

You did not know Yunho was this freaky in the sheets; never once did it cross your mind in the years of your friendship, that he'd be assertive and rough, delighting himself in manhandling. The thoughts in your head are cut short when he lets another clump of his spit roll down your slit, his tongue rubbing in circles and sideways to ruin you completely. It was working. His ways were working. The only downside to this, was your inability to touch him. You would've loved to scratch your nails on his back, create those red marks all over; you would've stroked his ego by chanting his name in your daze.

With that, a very dire notion pops in your mind and your eyes light up before fluttering open; you prod the gag of your panties out of your mouth with your tongue, and let it fall off onto the mattress besides you. Taking a deep breath in to sate your lungs from suffocation, you whimper ever so lightly, not loud enough to catch his attention.

Yunho is engrossed in sucking at your clit, but he's not a fool to not know what was happening above him. He smirks softly, pulling himself back, while managing the rhythm of his fingers sawing through you. Having your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, you don't notice him straightening up only a bit to watch you with amusement.

"You're such a brat, Liyah," he mutters under his breath, "guess I'll save your punishment for the next time. Now, let's get over this."

He brings his fingers out, letting you cherish the emptiness before straightening his posture completely and questions you, "Do you have a safe word?"

You shake your head, heart warming up to the concern in his voice and spell out, "ugh, no...I don't."

Yunho heaves out a sigh before legging his lips fleet with a smile, "I work on the colour system, much like traffic signals; so, red is stop, green is okay, and yellow is pause. Understood?"

You nod your head and then pout, struggling in the restraints; yeah, your hands are numb and on the verge of going limp. "Can you take this off?"

"Not a chance, doll." He smirks, "you can handle it."

Subtly glancing at his pants, he's quick in unbuttoning, unzipping and tugging them off of his legs. All your clothes were either piled or strewn on the floor, and his pants were a new addition. Yunho shifts on his knees to find a comfortable spot, while you salivate over the outline of his cock being so prominent through his abstract painted briefs. They're a mix of red, blue and black and you really didn't think you'd fixate yourself on the pattern of his briefs, but it seemed like they had some minute detail printed on it.

"Stop staring," he leans over and flicks your forehead, his own cheeks turning red along yours.

You whine, as the skin of your forehead starts stinging a bit. "You're just...really hot. It's not my fault—it's not my fault you grew up to be so hot."

"Flattery is devil's work." He rolls his eyes, but still manages to capture your lips in a short lived yet wild kiss. "Hmm, seriously, if you feel uncomfortable at any moment of this, please tell me."

Composing himself, he straightens up and hooks his fingers under the elastic band of his briefs; he snaps it first, and then hauls them off of his legs. Again, they're thrown somewhere on the floor. He's bare in front of you, his cock springing up and touching his lower belly. You were right, the rumours you thought were made up in school, are true. He was huge and thick; the veins on his shaft were bulging out, the tip was red and a little bit of precum had coated the slit.

"I told you to stop staring."

He grunts and that's all you know before being flipped over on your stomach by his arms around your waist. You're pressed up against the mattress, your face buried in the sheets, while one of his hands slithers up your back to wrap itself around your neck. Applying little to no pressure, he pushes your head further into the mattress and groans out softly.

"Fuck," your words are muffled by the mattress.

He doesn't waste any time in propping you up on your knees, letting your lower half raise in the air; your ass was juttinout, while your back arched perfectly on the mattress. Keeping his hand on your neck, he uses his other to slap your ass. It was done with a playful intention, but it was enough to leave a faint impression of his hand on your skin. He repeats for two more times before admiring the red streaks of his hand on your skin, he takes his pride in it before flushing his hips against the back of your thighs and aligning his cock with your hole.

You could hear the shuffling, you could sense his movements regardless of your vision being limited to the white of the sheets; you wanted to turn your head and glance back at him, but his grasp on your neck was making it hard to move. And it seemed like he wasn't going to let you any sooner either.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," he chants breathlessly, closing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as he enters you; only his tip is prodding into your hole. "Liyah, please relax for me. You're too fucking—you're too fucking tight."

"Nghhhhh...!" you whimper, your spine shuddering when he tries to push himself in you from the back.

This position was your favourite, to say the least you liked the way it allowed one to hit every right spot in you. Yunho may have only gotten his tip inside, but you know the stretch from it was still ugly and unbearing. Only for the time being, however. Once you take a deep breath in and relax your muscles, it eases out your nerves and allows him to slip further in. Not long after, he's bottomed out; his thighs flush against yours, and his cock completely buried in you. He waits a beat for you to adjust to his size. Yunho is self aware, he knows how excruciating it'd be for a woman to take in his cock without any prep or care.

"Yeah, that's my good girl—just breathe—let me know when I can—when I can move," he stutters in his daze, his eyes opening to the heavenly feeling of your walls around his cock. He indulges himself in it, liking the warmth of your cunt and how tight you were.

You press your hips back into his, signalling him the known and he takes the hint before pulling him out; he doesn't pull out all the way, instead he lets the tip of his cock stay in you, promoting at your cervix before he gradually pushes himself in. His concise and slow thrusts give you the ability to adjust around him, getting used to his size in a minute or two.

"Don't forget to use the safe words, okay..." he mumbles under his breath.

As his words reverberate, he picks up his pace and thrusts faster into you; he pulls back and pushes in, lowering his thighs into yours and sticking to a healthy rhythm. His hand comes to support you by resting on your thigh from your lower back, while his other is already pressing your head into the mattress. You were drawling on your breath, suffocating and gasping for air; regardless, you weren't bothered by it, you were too immersed in the sting of your walls stretching around his cock and then relaxing every time he pulled out a little. It was driving you insane.

"Yunho, fuck...faster," you try to voice out, but the words are absorbed into the mattress.

Even if your words were inaudible to him, Yunho picks up the tempo of his hips, his fingers digging in your thigh as he holds onto it for leverage. This makes him go feral, having an untamed desire to ruin and fuck you raw. He brings his hand to the small of your back and lets it rest there, while his thrusts falter but show no signs of stopping.

"You're really—fuck—you're really fucking tight, doll." He breathes out, loosening his grip on your neck before sliding his hand up front.

Grabbing your throat now, he pulls up; your restrained hands limit your movement, and he makes the up the remaining distance by leaning his chest against your chest. Skipping a beat, he increases the speed of his thrusts, plunging his cock deep in you every time he drew out and rammed in hard. A voiceless chuckle sounds from beside you, right near your ear; his head rested delicately on the back of your shoulder, just above your shoulder blade.

Sweat beads trickle on your skin, followed by his whispery chants of your name. You're too turned on by his grunts and moans being close to your ears, salvaging the heated knot in your stomach again.

"Yunho, I'm close..." you mumble, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Just a little bit, hold it out..." he grumbles, delaying his thrusts to drag out your orgasm.

You groan at the sluggish pace, instinctively pushing yourself back into his cock. Though, when he gently yet threateningly, slaps the curve of your back, you yelp and steady yourself.

"Don't even think about it," he warns, rolling his hips into yours and picking up the pace.

"But Yunho—fuck," your whine is cut short to a moan; bringing his hand to the front, from your back, he offers your filled pussy a light slap.

His hand drops from your throat too and instead slides down to tug on your nipples and grope your tits; his fingers scuttle in your flesh, nails leaving little crescent marks behind and his lips tracing kisses along your neck. He straighten his back and wraps both of his hand around your waist, giving him the better weight to sink his cock into you. And he was delivering really harsh thrusts to your back.

"Hmm, Yunho— I can't—I can't hold it in much—much longer." you say in between your moans, and whimpers, knowing how intense the knot in your stomach had tied itself into.

Yunho hums along, "fuck it."

He flips you on your back, with much ease than before and he slows himself down to short and concise thrusts. You're laying on your back, the shackled shirt of his twisting in the process which did not bring any strain to your arms; though you could say that your arms were tired and numb from staying in one position for so long. Yunho likes the sight of you sprawled under him, helpless and desperate; he wraps your legs around his waist and continues to ram into you.

"You're so pretty—so fucking pretty squirming under me," he growls, leaning over you.

He supports his body weight by plopping his hands on either side of your face and diminishes the distance between your faces to kiss you. His lips bring the much-needed placidity to your heart while his cock is stretching you raw, thrusting into your cunt at an animalistic pace and fluttering your walls. The kiss turns hungry and he's soon devouring your face; you arch your back and let your hips roll into his.

This current position causes you to clench around him; while your own orgasm was a few thrusts away, you were also trying to milk his out. Yunho's lips trail down your jaw and then your neck, tongue going over the hickeys he had left before. The knot which had gone limp a few moments ago, comes back with much more force and intense churning of your gut. You push your chest into his, and he starts to increase his pace furthermore. He had gone feral at this point, bucking his hips into with no care whatsoever.

You're both chasing each other's highs. It takes one longing thrust from him, and you're coming undone, releasing your juices all over his cock as he keeps going at it. Yunho pulls himself back, supporting himself on his arms and offers you smug smile.

"Making a mess on my cock, huh?" he groans, your tense walls pushing him to his edge. "Fuck, I'm close too—gonna fill you up..."

It doesn't take long for him to cum either; right after you, after a few more whiling minutes of thrusting and ramming his cock into you, he too comes undone. The warmth of his cum fills you up, and it keeps trickling down your cunt as he slowly pulls out. A few drops fall on your folds and few dribble down on the mattress underneath you. You're breathless, and voiceless, your chest heaving in the air and dropping erratically to compose yourself.

Yunho falls next to you on the twin sized bed, somehow managing to fit himself in the very little space. He turns to face you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling both of your bodies closer. Now, the two of you actually fit on the bed, snuggling close to each other, reeking of sex and sweat. Your hair stuck to your forehead from the sweat, and Yunho strokes a few strands away.

"I'm...I don't know what to say." he begins, hopefully looking into your eyes.

You rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso; both are sweaty and sticky, but it's the least of your concerns now.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Well, we really need to address this."

Yunho rubs your back up and down, letting his fingertips caress your skin gently and relax you.

"There's nothing to address, Yunho," you bite back on your tone and use a more subtle one, "this isn't a mistake. Obviously. I like you, a lot. And I'm looking for a prospect relationship here."

"I'm alright with that, but..." he trails off, sighing softly and you prop yourself on your elbows to stare at him, finding his lips trembling, "we're both pursuing our degrees in different cities. So, till we graduate we'll be in a long-distance relationship."

"And what do you think that long distance relationships don't work?" you retort, and eventually, slump yourself back on his chest. While your hands rest on his chest, your fingers draw circles and certain patterns; your sentiments become clearer and you mumble, "I was thinking of moving cities, you know."

"Liyah," he whispers, "you don't have to."

His gradual touches on your arm as you lay on his chest, are soft and warm and so his tone as he speaks up.

"We should move in together after graduation. Let's make this long-distance work; and besides..." he drags his words to a mumble again, only to lean down and kiss your forehead.

"We've been chasing stars for long; may they be in dark or the light. They made me realise I need you in my life."

[peaches2217]

Anyone order some Expectant Papa Mario? No? Too bad, I'm in brainrot tonight.

I'm so sorry.

Mario's the kinda guy that will drop EVERYTHING to go coo and make faces at and play with any baby that crosses his path, so it's really no surprise that he starts doing the exact same with his own kid... before she's even born.

It starts when Peach excitedly calls him into the bathroom while she's getting ready to shower one night and shows him the absolute tiniest, least noticeable bump in her abdomen, so small it took getting naked and looking at herself in profile in the mirror to even recognize it. It's been a few weeks since they got the news, but this is when it really hits both of them that Oh, there's a baby in there. And suddenly Mario's kneeling down so he can kiss and press his cheek against Peach's stomach, talking to it like whatever's within can actually hear him yet — "Look at you! Already getting so big! You keep getting big and strong for us, okie-dokie? Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!" And Peach eventually has to push him away through fits of laughter because that area is way too ticklish for all that kissing. The nightly ritual of Storytime (amended to Daddy-Daughter Storytime when finding out they're having a girl some months later) begins the following evening and is religiously observed to the day of her birth.

The first time he feels their daughter kick, it's in response to Peach's voice. Mario spends the next several nights with his head against Peach's chest and his hand on her belly, singing lullabies and telling their baby all sorts of stories, jumping back and forth between English and Italian, trying to see what will get her to react to his voice. But Peach's voice is the only one to get a response out of her for a while, leading Mario to, of all things, start making bribes. He'll get her a whole stable of Yoshis, she'll never have to so much as touch a vegetable if she doesn't want, he'll have an entire castle built from scratch just for her, and all she has to do is kick his palm, right now. Peach tries to offer suggestions for his bribes, but he dramatically shushes her if she speaks any louder than a whisper. The offers are only valid if she kicks for him and him alone!

One such night, after much giggling between the couple but little success, Mario gives up for the evening, assuring his little albicoccetta that he'll spoil her no matter how stubborn she insists on being. "Papà ti vuole tanto bene," he tells her. And then he feels a nudge against his hand, just as he finishes speaking. He proceeds to tell her this exact phrase every night before bed for the rest of his natural life.

The bribes make a return as Peach enters her third trimester and their little girl's nighttime activities prevent her from getting a decent night's rest. It's annoying, yes, but still those nights always feel worth it; whether it's at 10 PM or 3 AM, Mario will get her a warm drink, help her get comfortable again, and proceed to offer impractical material riches to their baby in exchange for settling down for the night. Sometimes that's enough, and he'll ask Peach to remind him to add everything he's offered tonight to their ever-growing imaginary list of things they're obligated to give their child once she's born. Other nights, just hearing his voice won't calm her down, or Peach will be sincerely uncomfortable to the point of pain, or they'll both be too tired to keep up the comical charade, so he'll just hold his wife close and hum songs or mutter half-awake nothings to soothe both of his girls.

(One night in particular, he tries the gentler approach of kissing her belly and asking their baby nicely if she'll consider mellowing out. The resulting kick to the face is shockingly strong, enough that it actually kind of hurts; he and Peach just stare at each other in dumbfounded shock for a moment before collapsing into laughter. "Rude!" he chastises, wagging his finger at her stomach. "You're grounded! You're not allowed to leave your room for the next two months, capito?")

Mario's in an absolute panic by the time he reaches Peach's bedside, berating himself for leaving her side for even a SECOND, asking her how she's managing the pain, reminding her to breathe, he's here, he'll see her through this — but her water just broke like ten minutes ago and the contractions are easily manageable, so if anyone needs all that attention and comfort, it's him. After assuring him that she's alright, Peach takes his hand and presses it to her belly, where he quickly feels a feeble kick. "She's saying she can't wait to meet you," she tells Mario, and yeah, that's enough to calm him down for now. "You be good for Mama," he answers back with a cheeky grin. "Don't give her too much trouble, alrighty?"

The request ultimately goes unheeded, because it's another ten hours before it's over, and it's almost surreal to think something that small could cause so much agony. Half a day's worth of tension and fear and helplessness comes crashing down watching their daughter take her first breaths against Peach's chest, hearing her first tiny cries, and the rush of all these huge and conflicting feelings makes Mario's legs feel weak. "Combinaguai!" he finds himself saying, hovering a hand nearby but not quite close enough to touch her. She looks so fragile. "What did I say? 'Don't give Mama too much trouble!' That was a lot of trouble!" His teasing makes Peach laugh, and hearing that carefree laugh after she's endured so much suffering brings him so much relief that his throat closes up, and suddenly he can't say anything else.

"Hey," he manages a short time later, cradling his daughter for the first time while nurses see to Peach. She looks even smaller all swaddled and clean, fast asleep in his arms, and for the first time since he began talking to her, he's at a complete loss for words. That is, until she stirs at his timid greeting, blinking up at him with drowsy topaz eyes. Peach's eyes. And suddenly Mario has everything to say. There's so much he wants to tell her, so many promises he wants to make, so many stories he wants to recount, so many jokes he wants to crack, and he wants to do it all right now. But he doesn't even know where to begin. So, for the time being, he tells her the one thing his exhausted brain can actually put into words right now, choked between joyful tears and the heaviest, most overwhelming affection he's ever felt in his life:

"Ti voglio bene. Ti voglio bene. Papà ti vuole tanto bene."