#curse financial insecurity

[cazshmere]

Lilith (h12) / Mean Lilith in the Houses and What We Feel Ashamed Of 🥀

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! (long post ahead)

🥀 LILITH IN THE 1ST HOUSE : feeling ashamed about your appearance, your personality, how you present yourself to the world, feeling insecure about your face, shying away from social events, embarrassed about how you act in social situations, fear of being perceived as 'too much' so prefers to stay in the background, sometimes embarrassed for using your body/physical appearance to get the things you want, feeling ashamed about self-expression, embarrassed for needing validation or attention from others, constant fear of being scrutinized or judged, feeling guilty for standing out or being bold, ashamed of the attention their natural magnetism attracts, fear of being seen as selfish for prioritising yourself and your own needs and desires, might struggle with imposter syndrome, feeling undeserving of your accomplishments or afraid that others will see through your facade, tendency to overthink how you come across to others, leading to excessive self-doubt and anxiety about first impressions, ultimately hindering your ability to be authentic and true to yourself in various situations.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 2ND HOUSE : feeling ashamed about how you derive your self-worth or validation, ashamed of your finances or the way you accumulate your income, ashamed of how greedy you can get when you want something, feeling ashamed for being too lazy, embarrassed about how much comfort you desire, ashamed with how you spend your money or how much you end up spending, feeling guilty about shopping too much or indulging in luxuries, feeling guilty for placing too much value on material possessions, ashamed of relying on material wealth or status for self-esteem, embarrassed by the need for external validation through possessions or financial success, feeling guilty for being too possessive or overly attached to things, shame around fear of financial instability, even when secure, and embarrassed by needing excessive comfort or luxury to feel secure.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 3RD HOUSE : feeling ashamed about sibling rivalry or competition, embarrassed by how often you curse or use foul language, ashamed of having negative or intrusive thoughts, feeling guilty about being too opinionated or outspoken, ashamed of struggling with communication or expressing your true feelings, feeling insecure about your intellect or how you articulate yourself, feeling embarrassed by being misunderstood or judged for your ideas, ashamed of gossiping or engaging in idle chatter, and feeling guilty for harboring resentment towards others in your close circle, embarrassed about the neighbourhood you live in, embarrassed about the vehicle you drive or the transport you use to commute.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 4TH HOUSE : feeling ashamed about your family dynamics or family background, embarrassed by your mother’s behavior or choices, feeling insecure about where you live or the condition of your home, ashamed of your roots or where you come from, feeling guilty about wanting to distance yourself from family expectations, feeling embarrassed about your private space or personal sanctuary, ashamed of your emotional vulnerabilities or how you express feelings at home, feeling guilty for wanting more than what your family can offer, feeling insecure about how your upbringing shapes your identity, feeling like the black sheep of the family, and feeling guilty for being different from the rest of your family, can even feel embarrassed about crying in front of others.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 5TH HOUSE : feeling ashamed about your dating history or past relationships, embarrassed by your romantic choices or how you express love, feeling guilty for not being able to commit or for being perceived as a flirt, ashamed of your hobbies or interests if they seem childish or trivial, feeling insecure about your creative pursuits or the way you express yourself artistically, feeling embarrassed about seeking validation through attention or admiration, ashamed of your playful side and how it might be viewed as immature, feeling guilty for prioritizing fun and pleasure over responsibilities, feeling uncomfortable with how your personality might overshadow others in social or creative settings, and feeling ashamed of overindulgence in addictions such as gambling, substance use, or alcohol, often leading to feelings of regret and self-blame for losing control.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 6TH HOUSE : feeling ashamed of your body or how you perceive your physical appearance, embarrassed by your work ethic or how you manage your responsibilities, feeling guilty for not working hard enough or for procrastinating, ashamed of how you spend your time or how it reflects on your productivity, feeling overly concerned about health and fitness, often leading to obsessive thoughts about diet or exercise, germophobic and ashamed of your fear of germs or dirt, feeling insecure about your daily routines and how they compare to others, feeling guilty for not taking care of your mental health or neglecting self-care, feeling uncomfortable about your ability to balance work and personal life, feeling ashamed of interpersonal dynamics with coworkers, including rivalry or competition, embarrassed about being perceived as a slacker or underperformer in a team environment, feeling guilty for not being a team player or for asserting your individuality too strongly, and feeling anxious about workplace criticisms or how you fit into the office culture.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 7TH HOUSE : feeling ashamed about your relationships and how they reflect on you, embarrassed by how the public perceives you in partnerships, feeling guilty for relying too heavily on others for validation, ashamed of how you act in one-on-one interactions, often feeling insecure or awkward, feeling uncomfortable with confrontations or disagreements in relationships, feeling guilty for having enemies or strained relationships with others, embarrassed about your fashion choices and how they may be judged by others, feeling ashamed of your desire for intense connections while fearing vulnerability, feeling insecure about the balance of power in partnerships, feeling anxious about being seen as too needy or demanding in your relationships, feeling pressured by societal beauty standards and how they affect your self-worth, and struggling with the desire to conform to certain beauty ideals while also feeling rebellious against them, embarrassed about any legal issues that you’ve got into.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 8TH HOUSE : feeling ashamed about the many secrets you keep and how they shape your identity, embarrassed by your sexual partners or choices regarding sex, feeling guilty about your desires or fantasies, ashamed of your struggles with intimacy and vulnerability, feeling insecure about your emotional depth and how it affects relationships, feeling uncomfortable discussing taboo subjects or exploring darker aspects of life, feeling guilty for being drawn to power dynamics in relationships, ashamed of your fascination with death, transformation, or the occult, feeling anxious about your financial entanglements or shared resources with others, feeling like your hidden aspects are too intense or overwhelming for others to understand, feeling ashamed of opening up emotionally due to fears of rejection or betrayal, struggling with feelings of jealousy or possessiveness in intimate relationships, feeling uncomfortable or ashamed of your body, especially in sexual situations, feeling guilty for exploring non-traditional sexual practices or desires that might be seen as taboo, being overly analytical about emotional bonds and feeling guilty for questioning their depth, feeling insecure about trusting others, leading to feelings of shame for being suspicious or paranoid, feeling overwhelmed by the fear of losing loved ones, leading to emotional withdrawal, and feeling ashamed if relying on partners for financial support or feeling insecure about financial intimacy, and struggling with attachment issues and finding it hard to release past relationships or experiences.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 9TH HOUSE : feeling embarrassed about your beliefs and values, especially if they differ from those of your peers or family, ashamed of where you studied for university or the subjects you chose to pursue, feeling guilty about your academic achievements or the degree you hold, feeling insecure about your intellectual capabilities or how they compare to others, feeling uncomfortable discussing your travel experiences or lack thereof, feeling ashamed of the places you’ve visited or not visited, feeling anxious about sharing your philosophical or spiritual views, fearing judgment for your perspectives on life or morality, feeling guilty for being too opinionated or outspoken about your beliefs, struggling with a sense of wanderlust while feeling tied down by commitments or responsibilities that prevent exploration, feeling ashamed that others may misinterpret your beliefs or values, feeling insecure about not completing a degree or feeling unworthy of your academic accomplishments, feeling uncomfortable with enjoying or adopting elements from other cultures without fully understanding or respecting them, feeling embarrassed about not having traveled enough or not having 'exotic' travel stories to share, feeling ashamed of challenging established beliefs or societal norms, particularly those taught by educators or mentors, feeling uncomfortable or unqualified to share your knowledge or beliefs with others, fearing judgment or rejection, being excessively critical of your own beliefs or ideologies, leading to feelings of confusion or self-doubt, feeling guilty for being too rigid or intolerant in your beliefs while desiring a more open-minded perspective, and feeling ashamed of not measuring up to certain spiritual or philosophical standards set by others.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 10TH HOUSE : feeling embarrassed about who you look up to and your role models, feeling ashamed of your father or the way he acts, feeling insecure about the career you are pursuing, feeling guilty about how you climb the social ladder, feeling uncomfortable about using taboo or unconventional methods to increase your social status, feeling ashamed of your ambitions, fearing judgment from others for perceived superficiality, feeling guilty for being too focused on reputation, feeling overwhelmed by public failures and mistakes, feeling insecure about standing up to authority figures, feeling shame for wanting too much and being perceived as greedy, feeling burdened by the need to curate a specific professional image, feeling guilty for neglecting personal relationships in favor of career aspirations, feeling inadequate in your field and fearing a lack of expertise, feeling embarrassed about choosing non-traditional career paths, feeling overly concerned about public perception of your career choices, fearing being pigeonholed into a specific role, and feeling emotionally detached from your work while struggling with conflicts between personal values and professional obligations.

🥀 LILTH IN THE 11TH HOUSE : feeling embarrassed about your friends and the way you act around them, feeling insecure about your online personality and how you present yourself on social media, feeling ashamed of how you use technology and fearing judgment for your digital habits, feeling guilty for being too obsessed with online gaming or virtual communities, feeling uncomfortable about your interests and hobbies if they are seen as unconventional, feeling anxious about not fitting in with social groups or communities, fearing rejection or criticism from friends, feeling insecure about your contributions to group dynamics or collaborations, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure to conform to social norms within friendships, feeling ashamed of needing validation from peers, feeling guilty for having differing opinions or beliefs from your friend group, feeling hesitant to express your true self in social settings, feeling isolated despite being surrounded by others, as if you don’t truly belong, feeling pressured to engage in activities that don’t align with your values, feeling guilty for resisting peer pressure and worrying about the consequences on your friendships, struggling with the fear of disappointing friends by not living up to their expectations or demands, feeling overwhelmed by the complexities of group relationships, feeling ashamed if your beliefs about social issues don't align with those of your friends or peers, feeling embarrassed about having friends who are considered outsiders, feeling guilty for not keeping up with trends or fads that your friends are engaged in, worrying excessively about how you are perceived online, feeling insecure or jealous about your friends’ success and achievements, feeling pressured to compromise your values to maintain friendships, worrying that others may not view you as reliable or dependable, feeling self-conscious about unique personality traits or habits, and feeling disconnected from others in online communities despite frequent interaction.

🥀 LILITH IN THE 12TH HOUSE : fear of revealing your dreams and subconscious desires, shame around mental illness or struggles with mental health, insecurity about hidden fears or anxieties. guilt around spiritual beliefs or practices, especially if they’re unconventional, fear of being judged for retreating into isolation or needing alone time. overwhelm from emotions that are hard to express, shame around vulnerability and feeling the need to hide your true emotional state. fear of being misunderstood or judged for your inner world, shame about feeling disconnected from reality at times, guilt for engaging in escapist tendencies like drugs, alcohol, or other substances. fear of being perceived as weak for needing solitude or indulging in unhealthy coping mechanisms and addictions. fear of hidden enemies and betrayal, shame around being suspicious of others. insecurity around self-sabotage, feeling guilty for destructive patterns that hold you back. embarrassment about repressed memories or past traumas that surface unexpectedly. fear or shame around having psychic or intuitive abilities, worrying others will think you’re strange. fear of losing control of yourself emotionally or mentally, shame around emotional breakdowns. embarrassment or guilt around belief in past lives or karmic ties. insecurity about helping others or being overly compassionate in secretive ways. fear of hospitalization or institutionalization, and shame around the possibility of needing help in these areas. guilt over unexplained fears, phobias, or anxieties that seem irrational but still affect your life deeply.

banner/pic credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[kenzieluvsnanami]

kenzieluvssukuna :: personaltrainer!sukuna x thick!reader (18+) ☆

desc ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ ever since you were young, you've struggled with your weight - it becoming one of your biggest insecurities. now as an adult, you actually have the financial freedom to invest into yourself leading you to start going your local gym. you end up running into someone who was willing to help you... the only problem was that he didn't seem as invested in your weight loss as you were. cw ✧✩₊˚. modern/no curses au, body image insecurity, fatshaming🙄, sukuna knows how to use a phone, slow burn-ish (they don't smash in this part), mastúrbation (f), séxting // 3.5k wc // part 2

“Are you sure you should eat that?” “You would be so much prettier if you just dropped a few pounds.” “You’ll never date anyone looking like that!”

Ever since you were young, all the people in your life ever seemed to be concerned with was your weight - whether that be murmured judgements amongst themselves or just directly to your face. At first it used to upset you, the ostracisation making you feel like there was permanently a spotlight on you no matter where you went; strangers silently judging you, making assumptions or just flat out insulting you.

If you wanted to go out to a restaurant, it felt like you were be shamed out of eating anything that could be deemed as “unhealthy”. Shopping for clothes was a difficulty - irregular clothing sizes meaning that the majority of your teenage shopping trips ended with you tearing up in the changing room as you fought with many a pair of stupid jeans that fit your calves perfectly well, but as you tugged them up to your plush thighs they got painfully stuck; your mom having to intervene and haul the wretched things back down.

As you grew out of adolescence and into adulthood, you quickly learnt how to mask the insecurity and self-doubt you had accumulated, leaning fully into the “funny, fat friend” role. You kept a fake smile plastered on your face as friends and family lamented on about the woe’s of constantly being approached by men and how lucky you were that you didn’t have to worry about that.

You weren’t nearly as perturbed with your appearance as others seemed to be, puberty being instrumental in recomposing your juvenile body to its current physique - majority of your fat moving to fill out your hips and bust. You definitely still had a tummy and back rolls but the thickness of your thighs and generous glutes were something that you felt your friends were at least a little envious of, often catching them gawking at the way your hips swayed as you walked or how your breasts jiggled as you moved your hands around.

Regardless of your growing acceptance of your larger body size, there were still times when you felt like that young girl who was relentlessly bullied and mocked due to something as superficial as how she looked. You wanted to move on from ever feeling like that again, which is what lead you to start going to the gym.

If you could mould yourself, to how other’s wanted you to look and be seen as not even beautiful but just normal - maybe you wouldn’t have this heaviness in your heart, maybe you would finally feel fully accepted by the people in your life and maybe you’d not constantly feel on edge when in public or open spaces.

Your first few trips to the gym were pretty mundane. You made sure to properly stretch before attempting weighted exercise - deep squats and hip flexors being your favourite warm-up, the slight tension and warm rush of blood flow putting you in the perfect mind frame for a challenging but rewarding workout.

The routine and order that the gym was able to give you didn’t just help you to achieve your goal of weight-loss but also caused a drastic improvement to your mental health; your brain being able to just.. switch off as you pounded your feet into the conveyer belt of the treadmill.

However, your gym session a couple weeks ago was is were things started to change.

You sauntered in, light pink hydroflask complementing your pastel two-piece - a sports bra with interweaving straps around your back for increased support and cycling shorts that nicely hugged your ample hips and gave your rear a helpful lift.

Making your way to the padded area used for low impact exercise, you got to work. Starting out with a deep stretch in your hamstrings and then working back up to your upper hips. As you leant back up from a standing toe touch, you felt an intimidating presence looming over you. You stumbled back slightly, eyes flitting upwards to take in this unwelcome interruption.

The first thing you noted was that he was muscular - corded muscles rippling as he squatted down to meet your gaze. He had thick, black markings all over his body from what you could tell, two lines on both his upper thighs and forearms being the only visible ones currently, peaking out from his snug fitting compression shirt and loose training shorts.

He even had it on his face, symmetrical lines running from the top of his jaw down to his chin meeting in a small triangle alongside a pointed line across his nose. His hair was almost the same colour as your bottle - a soft pink that seemed almost contradictory to his hard exterior.

“Your form.” He grumbled. You blinked back, not really grasping what he was trying to say.

“For God’s sake, your form woman! Are you trying to get injured or something?” His dark eyes observed you with something that was… unfamiliar. You were used to people looking at you with disgust or even pity but he looked at you with a genuine curiosity.

“You keep rounding your back. That will cause you more harm than good in the long term” he continued on, not seeming to take your lack of response as a deterrent.

“Stand up.”

It was unclear to you why you were mindlessly following this random man’s instructions but nevertheless you humoured him - following his sharp commands as he directed you into a form that was better suited to your body type, taking into account your larger proportions which allowed for a much deeper and satisfying stretch. You went to crane your head up as you heard the man’s voice behind you.

“Aht- I never said you could move” he chided, reaching out a large, calloused palm to press you back down into the corrected pose. “I was enjoying the view.”

It took you a moment to understand the implication of what he meant, cheeks burning as you stood up properly. “I don’t think I got your name..?”

He smirked, passing you a card with his name and number on “…'name’s Sukuna, I work as a personal trainer at this gym sometimes.”

He paused, shamelessly looking you up and down - pretty much just eye-fucking you in the middle of the gym. “if you ever need someone to help you work out, ‘m here.” He sauntered off, not even bothering to wait for your response.

The rest of your workout was spent mulling over the intriguing man you had just met. Whilst his methods were… unconventional and he could be a little assertive, he clearly knew a lot more about the gym than you and could be quite useful?

When you got back to your place, the first thing you did was take a good look at the card he had given you, saving the number on the back and sending him a quick message.

…

you: heyyy, it’s the girl you helped at the gym today! tysm for ur advice, it was really useful. :) would you be free anytime this week to help me with some leg workouts?

sukuna: i remember you

sukuna: do you want to look like this?

sukuna: [image attachment]

…

Unsure of what he was really talking about, you immediately clicked the image expecting it to be a photo of a previous client who was in a similar position or honestly anything but a selfie of his glistening torso.

Black markings continuing down from his shoulders meeting into the middle of his pectorals, two symmetrical pointed lines running deep along his tensed abs, an arm slightly raised to show the circle on the top of his deltoid. He was in a dark room but the flash from the camera gave you a good view of his lap - legs spread wide, the grey sweatpants he was wearing allowing you to see everything.

…

sukuna: so?

…

You were…stunned to say the least. I mean you did get the vibe that he was checking you out but you weren’t used to men being so forward with you. You genuinely wanted him to help you work out though so you responded back earnestly stating that whilst you did appreciate his physique, you weren’t trying to completely change the way you looked - you had actually grown from your original aim of going to the gym just for weight loss and wanted to instead focus on improving your stamina and muscle gain, any pounds shed from that alone would be satisfactory for you.

…

sukuna: i understand

sukuna: lets meet tuesday

sukuna: i have the perfect workout for you

…

The wait for Tuesday to come felt absolutely agonising. The day before you had actually gone through your closet looking for your cutest gym set to wear, spending hours agonising over whether you should go for a unitard that clung tightly to your curves or one of your more… skimpier sets that allowed for a little recoil when you moved.

Whilst you knew this definitely wasn’t a date and had already come to the conclusion that Sukuna was certainly the type of trainer to flirt with all his clients - this gym session definitely felt charged in some kinda way.

You walked into the gym that Tuesday quite apprehensive; bringing your light blue hydroflask this time to better match with the set you decided on, a cropped slim fit shirt and looser pair of shorts (to allow for greater range of motion but it does help they also show the underside of your ass).

As soon as you stepped into the gym, you spotted the pink-haired man standing in the padded area you normally start in, his eyes dragging up your frame; a slow grin spreading across his lips as he beckoned you over with two of his fingers.

The walk to him felt like an eternity, dark eyes tinged with a streak of red as he unreservedly studied you - eyes flitting down to the high cut of your shorts, ass jiggling with every step you took.

You felt blood rush to your face, Sukuna’s ogling making you feel so shy. You finally reached him, his hooded gaze rendering you speechless for a good minute or so as the two of you just looked at each other silently.

“Hello to you too” He sniggered, turning to the side to reveal the assortment of weights he had selected for today’s workout. “This is going to be the hardest workout of your life.”

“Sounds good!” you innocently beamed, always being up for a good challenge and it seemed like Sukuna was willing to give you one.

“Woman, I don’t think you understand,” He wiped a hand over his jaw, seeming to be finding your misguided enthusiasm hilarious, “…’nless, you are some kind of masochist - there is no chance you’ll enjoy this”

You looked up at him after he said this, smile faltering slightly at the sight of the very poorly hidden smirk on his face. He was really going to try push you to your limit but… he didn’t know how stubborn you could be.

The two of you went through the warm-up smoothly enough, Sukuna’s critical eye spotting the myriad of mistakes you were making; hands sliding against the soft, contours of your body to position you in the correct positions.

It was hard to remind yourself where you were when his broad palms reached around the expanse of your thighs, lingering in the inner crevices as he squeezed lightly to encourage you to push back against him to deepen your stretch. You really couldn’t tell whether Sukuna was affected in the same way you seemed to be, his previously heated gaze being replaced with a much calmer and cooler one - his focus seeming to be on making this workout the “hardest one of your life”.

You then moved onto weights, the main target of the day being glutes as requested by you. Sukuna had queried about what muscle groups you targeted least and from there promised to make you a future guide to help you work them out more; but explained that today he would start with something familiar, “I don’t want to scare you off.”

To help improve your weight lifting form, he would model how he wanted you to position yourself and then get you to copy him. This would have been extremely helpful if you were actually paying attention to what he was doing, your mind being more focused on the way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he moved into the poses; you could literally see the tendons wrapping and twisting as he dropped into a squat, thighs flattening out as adductors tensed up creating a deep crevice in the middle.

“Woman.” he growled, dragging you out of your daydream. “I know you didn’t just call me here to lust over my body.” He made eye contact with you through the mirror in front, “You could’ve just come to mine if that was the case”.

Sukuna really knew how to make you flustered, whether that be on purpose or that just being his personality. You couldn’t really decipher whether he actually meant what he said or if his matter-of-fact tone just made everything flirtatious. It didn’t help that he really didn’t mind getting up close and personal with his training, hands securely gripping your sides as you held two dumbbells above your head, gently easing into a weighted squat. He made you do this 20 times - your body trembly and achy by the 15th rep.

“Sukuna….I don’t think I can do anymore” you wheezed, beads of sweat running down from your hairline.

“Don’t be a baby” he muttered into your ear, causing you to suddenly become hyperaware of his proximity to you; his body essentially caging you in as he helped to pull you down. You shivered slightly, willing your body to focus on the really heavy fucking weights above your head and not the man hovering behind you. You flicked your eyes back up to the mirror to centre yourself only to find Sukuna’s eyes glued to your rear - the squat position you were currently in making it look even bigger than normal, your spread legs isolating each cheek with the sliver of undercheek peeking out tensing up into your thigh due to your poor balance.

It was kinda comical to see how transfixed he was - eyes completely blacked out with his grip becoming slightly tighter as you dipped lower and lower. As you came back up you tipped yourself forward purposefully to seem as if you were going to fall over. Snapping out of his daze, Sukuna fully pulled you back into his chest; lower back brushing up against his semi-hard length as your weights clattered against the floor. You turned your head upwards to try and catch his eye only to find him already staring back down at you, face stern, “S-Stop messing around, woman.” He barked out, swiftly moving to create some distance between the two of you.

The rest of the workout continued without much interference from yourself or Sukuna; the second half primarily consisting of cardio which meant that little guidance was actually needed. Whilst you were grateful for his assistance, you couldn’t help but feel like you wanted something more - missing the physical contact that was so prevalent at the beginning of your workout.

“All done!” you smiled as the machine slowed to a stop, your gruelling 30 minutes on the stair-master finally being over. You staggered over to the pink-haired man who was lazily lounging on the couch at reception, proud that you had struggled your way through his workout and lived to tell the tale.

“Why are you so…happy?” He looked mildly conflicted, impressed that you had managed to make it through his workout but disappointed that he hadn’t managed to break you.

“’Cause I completed your workout, silly” He found the cheesy grin on your face infuriatingly cute, the way your your eyes crinkled up and dimples poked out actually making his heart beat slightly faster.

“I’m not silly, brat.” He spat out, hand moving down to ruffle your hair, much to your annoyance.

“Since you found this workout so easy, let’s see how you find the one at my house.”

Oh.

The look on Sukuna’s face was akin to the likes of a predator that had just caught its prey; a wide, malfeasant grin plastered on his face as his eyes went to a darkened black.

He was talking about… oh.

You could literally feel yourself dripping as you glanced up at Sukuna, mouth dry as he strolled out of the gym silently - looking back with a gleam in his eyes as the doors to the gym slid shut.

The drive home was quiet, mind reeling at the sudden turn of events. Yes, Sukuna had been very flirty during your interactions but you never thought it was going to escalate to this point where he essentially invited you round… to fuck.

You got home, showered, changed, ate and tucked yourself in for bed in a daze, thoughts still scrambled as you tossed and turned desperately trying to turn off your racing thoughts.

DING

Your hand reached out to grasp your phone. You knew that it could only be one person texting you at this hour.

…

sukuna: mine friday @ 8?

sukuna: unless you don't want to see more of this

sukuna: [image attachment]

…

Oh, he definitely did not waste any time. Your finger raced to click open the attachment, the picture this time being a selfie from a lower angle showcasing a little more of the pink-haired man’s lower body; boxers pulled down to show you his harsh v-line and happy trail that confirmed that the curtains do match the drapes. You could see the the small veins wrapping around his flexed forearm as he twisted his arm to the side to show the sheer amount of muscle he had managed to build in just that one area, bicep almost tripling in size.

As much as you wanted to pretend his excessive showmanship didn’t impress you, your body was telling a different story; thighs slowly rubbing together as you felt heat rush down between your legs.

…

sukuna: i know what you are doing

sukuna: show me.

…

Sheets pushed to the side, you pulled down your shorts with an inhumane level of strength. Something about how self-assured and confident he was just made you horny. The way he just told you what to do and you actually did it was something you didn’t realise you’d liked so much until now, your body trembling with need.

You started filming, a hand spreading apart your folds as the one holding the phone drew closer to showcase how drenched you already were. Your swollen clit was red and angry, begging for attention as your fingertips slowly skimmed along the edges of your cunt. As much as you wanted to wanted to give Sukuna a real show, you also really wanted to come. Eventually, you brought two fingers to your sensitive clit and smeared all of the slick you had gathered before, just the mere pressure making you groan lowly in pleasure. You leisurely started to build up speed, fingers readjusting to allow you to prod into your tight hole, fingers pressing up against your walls in a way that only allowed you to squeeze down onto them.

Your room was filled with the sounds of your quiet whimpers and moans as the pressure in the lower half of your body started to build up more and more to the point where you were about to climax. Your breathing became shallower and was replaced by heavy pants as you tried to evade the inevitable for a little longer, not wanting to stroke Sukuna’s ego any further by coming almost immediately at the sight of him.

Right when you couldn’t hold back any longer you decided to cut the video - he could see you come when the two of you meet on Friday. Until then, he’d have to be satisfied with your video.

You sent the video and threw your phone on the bed, left hand joining your right in plunging into your cunt; your body arching away from the bed as you reached your peak and came hard, gushing out all over your sheets.

Your head felt fuzzy as you lay there for a moment, the only sound in the room being your phone rapidly buzzing.

…

sukuna: fuck

sukuna: you look so good

sukuna: cant believe you cut it there

sukuna: what a little tease

sukuna: you'll see what i do to women who tease me.

…

Friday could not come sooner.

part 2

a/n ✧✩₊˚. ive been binge watching industry and wow being a banker actually seems interesting wtf.. i had to cancel my gym membership cause im moving for uni and i miss it so much i cant wait to start going again 😜

[astroamorsworld]

Astrology Observations #27

Im starting to compile a list of reviews for my paid readings on my masterlist so check it out if you’d like😊

If you guys would like a reading, feel free to DM me, i’m also trying to reach a certain financial goal as i’m in a bit of a crisis😩

Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. Enjoy!

Please do not copy my work.

💀Having a Mars-Chiron conjunction is absolutely awful. Like especially if you have it in your 4th house in a solar or lunar return chart, so if you see this in your chart then brace yourself.

💀I feel like having transit chiron opposite your ascendant can really make you go through this period of insecurity and having low self esteem.

💀Having pluto afflicted in your 7th house or having pluto negatively aspecting planets in the 7th house can indicate a breakup.💔

💀If where you live crosses both venus/mars in your astrocartography chart then it’s probably really easy for you to get a roster.😭

💀I feel like if you have your 2nd house ruler in a hard aspect with pluto in your lunar return chart then your self esteem could drop off a CLIFF that month.

💀Not an observation but my next perfection year is my 8H perfection year and i don’t know what to expect😬

💀The way people with a Mars-Uranus square freak out about things is genuinely something else😭

💀Having tons of Chiron squares and oppositions in your chart is not for the weak😩

💀I don’t know too many people with Sun-Uranus oppositions but you guys have such unique personalities. Truly a rare breed😚

💀I feel like having neptunian influence on your venus is a blessing and curse… more so for me a curse😭😭 like when you’re dating someone you give them your all and when you’re not dating someone you become so delusional😫

💀I really hate having saturn on my MC, career aspirations take forever to fufill😞

💀I feel like libra moon men are so nonchalant. They’re also pretty boys🙄

💀Aquarius and Pisces men are the WORST.

Check my pinned for more

[oddinary4bts]

Now We Reign | myg

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering

☆word count: 34.9k

☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Seven months ago

                 Music had always been home to you. A refuge, a safe haven from your family life as you had grown up. It had been held in the keys of your piano, and in the pages of your diary. Songs after songs, lines underlined and others erased. Clever play of words, rhymes and music to accompany it. Some of them had made it to your first EP, but most you had tried to forget.

Your past wasn’t one you wanted to revisit. Not when you had gotten a deal with a record label, something you hadn’t expected to happen at such a young age.

Idol life had never been something you were aiming for. You chose the backstreets, the smaller scene, and produced indie music as you went. It still got you a following, one that had been growing through the years, until your name was known all over Seoul.

You wondered if it had reached your hometown too, but the silence on your phone was clear enough: even if your parents had heard, their older daughter had been dead to them a long time ago. You had stopped caring through the years, pouring your hate for your family in your songs. You had even dived in the genre of rap a little. Rhythm and poetry, laced together until you lost yourself in the music.

It was different from your usual, but it had gotten the attention of a big name in the music industry. He had suggested a collaboration, offering to produce the song. All you had to do was help with the lyrics, though you were pretty sure he had that part covered. Of course he also wanted you to record some parts of the song for him, needing a female voice to be able to carry the meaning. Nothing too complicated.

After all, Min Yoongi already was a successful established artist. Far more successful than you ever thought you would be. It had taken you by surprise, when he had contacted you. It had been a random Tuesday night, and your agent had been going crazy, so much so you had had to tell him to calm down otherwise you were going to drop the collab. Minhyuk hadn’t needed more to oblige, and you had found yourself working on the song in the following weeks.

You weren’t surprised when Min Yoongi came to you with an almost finished version of the song. You had tweaked some parts, and surprisingly enough, he had trusted the changes. Even if you had made him rework one of his own verses, Yoongi had listened to you intently, and had seen the intelligence behind your suggestions.

You could only hope he would see the intelligence between the changes you wanted to make now. Because the song was set to release in a few weeks, and you were pretty convinced he didn’t like last minute changes.

Maybe that was why you found yourself going to his place, with a whiskey bottle as an offering so he wouldn’t be too mad.

Yes, you knew where Min Yoongi lived. In a far more luxurious condo building compared to your own, with a huge condo that stood on two stories of the upper levels. It offered him a beautiful view of the city, though you had yet to visit at night. Indeed, he had only made you come here once, on one of the early Saturdays of your collab.

You realized as you stood in front of the building that this was stupid. You hadn’t even texted or called him in advance to inform him of your impromptu visit. Had only decided the changes about an hour ago, and had rushed to the liquor store to grab the expensive bottle you currently held.

But life seemed to have plans for you. Other than that of running away into the night before you had the chance to embarrass yourself. That is, life had planned for you to run into Min Yoongi as he was walking back home, and you both stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before you collected yourself, offering him a respectful bow.

“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, and you hesitated before you straightened.

His hands were in his pockets, protecting him from the cold the evening held. He had an unreadable expression on his features, as if the sight of you was an inconvenience, but he didn’t want to let it show.

You weren’t stupid enough to believe collaborating with him had made you friends. Min Yoongi was a professional through and through, in everything he did. Apart from his members, you knew he didn’t mix work and personal life.

He said your name, and for a second you thought you saw confusion on his features. “What are you doing here?”

You stood there, not knowing what to say for what probably was a good ten seconds but felt like an eternity. His eyes flitted to the whiskey bottle, and you were pretty sure a disapproving look passed in his gaze, not lingering long enough for you to be sure you had truly seen it.

“I have some suggestions to make for the song,” you said. Your voice held strong, even though you felt incredibly uncomfortable under his stare.

His eyes widened a little, and his lips parted for a second before his mouth fell shut again. He looked behind you, to the hall of his building, before settling his gaze on you again.

“What do you have in mind?”

Oof. At least he was letting you talk. “It’s for the last bridge,” you started. “I think I could sing the last part differently. It’s lacking emotion.”

Yoongi had bothered you about emotion a lot when you had first been recording. Had told you he was surprised you couldn’t carry your usual emotion in this song. Which meant he had listened to your album, and you hadn’t known what to make of it for a time.

But you knew mentioning emotion was the way to go. Indeed, Yoongi slightly tilted his head to the side, still as unreadable, but you were convinced he was considering it.

“What makes you think you can get it better this time?” 

There were no clues in his tone to let you know what he might have been thinking.

You had to refrain from scoffing. “I have what you need, trust me.”

He pursed his lips, just a little. A crack in his professional mask.

Because the song held sadness. The angry nostalgic kind. And hadn’t it been for the fact your parents hadn’t even deigned to call you for your birthday, you probably wouldn’t have found the right emotion in you to deliver the performance Yoongi had first wanted from you.

“Very well,” he said, nodding once. “You can record it in my home studio.”

You nodded too, agreeing to his invitation. You weren’t foolish enough to pass on the opportunity. You fell into step with Yoongi as he started moving towards the door again, the bottle of whiskey heavy in your hand.

“I brought a gift to apologize for being here so late,” you tentatively said. Not really knowing what approach to take when it came to the ice radiating off Min Yoongi today.

He had never been openly cold before. But you could feel it in the hard stretch of his shoulders, and the muscle that feathered on his jaw whenever he clenched it. Something was upsetting him, something that had made him go on a walk at a late hour just to clear his mind.

You were familiar with such walks. You getting to his place had started as a walk like that. Until you had seen the liquor store and decided to be gone with formalities.

You hadn’t expected him to let you see his emotions. Even if a minute ago you had been at a loss with how he felt, now you could physically feel the anger on him. But ever so the professional and gentleman, Yoongi held the door open for you, breathing in one last time the cold air of the night before he stepped in behind you.

And just like that the unbreakable mask was back in place. It wasn’t like you minded: like him, you prided yourself in your professionality. Just because Yoongi was a big name in the industry didn’t mean that you were going to forfeit your nature.

Maybe that was the reason why the elevator ride was so awkward. Yoongi had dived his hands back in his pockets as soon as he had hit the call button, and then after he had pressed on his level. You were just standing next to him, and the silent elevator smoothly went up the floors until you reached his. You found yourself straining to look ahead, avoiding to glance at him.

He seemed as if he needed privacy, and you were not going to be the one to take it from him. Fortunately, the whiskey bottle was a rock in the awkwardness, keeping you steady even as your head turned from wanting to disappear. It gave you something to do as the elevator moved, and you almost dreaded the moment it would come to a stop.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do. You thought about your parents, about the phone that hadn’t rang today, and you clenched your jaw as the emotions swarmed in.

Min Yoongi wasn’t the only one in a mood.

The elevator halted, slowing on its hinges until it had fully stopped. The doors slid open, and Yoongi walked out. You took a steadying breath before following him, and you looked away as he typed the code to his condo on the pad on his door.

Fancy condo buildings and their technologies be damned.

The pad whirred as it unlocked the door, and a few seconds later, you were in Min Yoongi’s condo. You breathed in, inhaling the remaining scent of a home-cooked meal. It smelled good, infinitely better than what you could cook, and your stomach had the nerve to growl as you watched Yoongi take off his shoes.

You fought the blush that was creeping on your cheeks as Yoongi glanced at you. “Have you not eaten dinner?”

You hadn’t. You had tried getting seaweed soup, but just the thought of eating it alone for your birthday had made you sick to your stomach. The only thing that was fueling your body today was the coffee you had drunk this morning and the sandwich you had forced yourself to eat at lunch time.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll get something to eat at the convenience store after, it shouldn’t be too long anyway.”

He watched you carefully, and you wondered if he could tell you were in a mood. You didn’t even know if he cared. He didn’t really seem as if he did, because he only nodded his head curtly before motioning to some slippers left abandoned by the door.

“You can put these on,” he told you, and then he was walking down the hall, shrugging off his coat.

You watched him go with a confused expression, before you did as told. You hesitated for a good minute before you followed him, almost feeling as if you were intruding on his personal space.

In all truth, you were very much so intruding on his personal space.

You didn’t remember much of his condo from your first visit. He had directly guided you to the studio, which was on the second floor. First door to the left. But tonight he hadn’t gone straight for that, so you followed the sounds until you reached a kitchen area.

Yoongi was putting some food in a bowl. Jajjangmyeon, from the looks of it, and you surveyed him as he slid the bowl in his microwave, before shutting the door and dialing the cooking time.

He turned to look at you, before motioning at some glasses he had put on the island, under the expensive looking chandelier.

“Why don’t you pour us a drink?” he suggested. “I’m reheating a plate for you, I don’t want your stomach to be gurgling while you record.”

You would have been embarrassed had this not been the first kind thing someone had done for you today.

Indeed, you didn’t have a lot of friends. Kept most of them at a distance, and none really knew when your birthday was. Mostly because you hated birthdays and had always thought them to be useless. Just another mark to add on the calendar, another year gone by without any news from your family.

“You don’t have to,” you said, and pink tinted your cheeks as you moved in.

He folded his arms on his chest, leaning against the counter. His eyes held an intensity you shied from as you focused on the glasses instead. “I would do it for anyone I collab with.”

You pursed your lips, nodding slightly, and the room fell silent except for the buzz of the microwave. You stopped in front of the glasses, putting the bottle down next to them. Not really knowing what to say to fill the silence, you uncorked the bottle, and the oaky scent of the whiskey filled your nose.

The familiar smell eased your nerves a little, and you poured the two glasses as Yoongi fished the bowl out of the microwave. He put it down next to you, and you glanced up to meet his face.

You hadn’t realized it before, but Yoongi had pretty features. His face was round, just a little, softening the edges of him, and his eyes were like gems on his face, shining in the light from the chandelier.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, before grabbing one of the glasses to give to him.

He bowed in thanks, taking the glass from you before inhaling the whiskey. “That’s an expensive bottle.”

You chuckled. “I felt bad for coming over so late.”

“It could have waited until tomorrow.”

It wasn’t reproachful, the way he said it. Just a statement, and maybe even a question. As much as he was professional, Min Yoongi wasn’t an asshole. He knew you were going through something, and although he clearly didn’t want to prod, he also didn’t want to pretend as if everything was okay.

You shrugged. “I tend to live my emotions quickly. If you want a raw result, then it had to be tonight.”

He wet his lips, and his eyes fell to the jajjangmyeon. “Then eat so we can get to work.”

 *****

                 You finished recording for the fifth time. Each time Yoongi had suggested something a little different, something he believed would work better for the song. Less angry, more sadness. Find nostalgia and all that same crap.

You expected it when Yoongi said, “Let’s do it one more time. I think we almost have it.”

You glanced at him where he was sitting at his computer. You considered biting his head off, but then you nodded curtly.

He was right, there was way too much anger in your voice. So you shut your eyes, thinking about fifteen-year-old you having to leave your parents’ house because, “we won’t support you if you decide to give up on your life for some stupid dream”. You thought about you, living in the backroom of an old man’s restaurant, working shifts for him in exchange for a place to live, until you had been old enough to move to Seoul. You focused on the loneliness, on the knowledge that there was no one in this world at your side.

It always hit harder on your birthday, didn’t it?

When you felt ready, your eyes fluttered open, and you nodded at Yoongi, indicating that he could start the track you listened to for recording. You let the music fill you, syncing your soul with the chords that filled your ears until you were one with it. Until it was time to sing. Then you started singing, eyes shutting instinctively. You let the emotions guide your voice, let the loneliness formulate the lyrics.

It was over before you even realized it. The track fell silent, and still you kept your eyes shut.

“That was perfect,” Yoongi complimented you.

Even that wasn’t enough to bring your eyes to open. You had to take a few breaths, fighting the urge to break down that had taken over you. When the wave passed, you let your vision adjust to the world again, though it was blurry behind the bitter tears. You blinked them away, ignoring the feeling of Yoongi’s heavy gaze on your profile.

“Fucking finally,” you muttered, and you stepped away from the mic, taking off the headset.

Yoongi followed you with his eyes as you moved closer, putting the headset down next to his keyboard. “Don’t you want to hear?”

“I don’t need to.”

It wasn’t even confidence that motivated your words. Just nostalgia. Yoongi offered you a curt nod, before listening to it himself. He seemed satisfied with the result, because he nodded his head, rolling his chair away from the desk as he folded his arms on his chest. His gaze locked with yours, and a smile ghosted on his lips.

“I’ll send you the final result tomorrow,” he said.

You pursed your lips. “Sounds good. I guess I’ll get going then.”

You had half turned away from him when he spoke up. “Don’t you want another drink? That bottle was expensive.”

It really was. Way too expensive for your light wallet, but Yoongi was a whiskey connoisseur. You couldn’t have shown up with something less. Even if the bottle could have paid for your groceries for at least two weeks.

It wasn’t like you needed to eat three meals a day anyway, right? And with the money you were ought to make from the song, you could tighten the belt for a couple of weeks more.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “It’s late, I shouldn’t stay.”

Yoongi nodded, getting up from his chair. He hadn’t finished his glass yet, and he held your gaze as he downed it in one long gulp. You watched his throat muscle work, before letting your gaze drop to the ground.

“I’ll let you leave with the bottle then,” he said after he swallowed. “I have plenty of them already.”

“You really don’t have to,” you quickly said, with a panicked gaze.

He was smiling now. It took you by surprise. “Then you’re going to stay and drink another glass with me, mmh? We’re allowed to celebrate finishing the song.”  

Hopefully it was the loneliness in you that made you say yes, and not the softness that took over Yoongi’s features. He seemed relieved, as if he had been embarrassed to ask, but he recovered quickly guiding you back to the kitchen area downstairs.

This time around, you took your time to admire his condo. To admire the simple elegance of the place. It was far more luxurious than your own apartment, which was a one bedroom with a single working light and water stains on the ceiling. Yoongi’s place was all but that. It was full of light, spotless, with scattered pieces of art to decorate. Nothing too excessive or fancy, and it almost made the condo look a little empty. As if Yoongi hadn’t really taken the time to decorate.

Or maybe he had just recently moved in, and his busy schedule was keeping him from decorating more.

“You’re lucky this is my favourite bottle,” he said with a friendly smile as you stopped next to the kitchen island, where you had left the whiskey earlier.

“Glad my guess was right.”

He wet his lips, before pouring himself another glass. He grabbed yours from the sink, pouring you a glass as well before offering it to you. “And here I thought you were a connoisseur.”

You didn’t have the money to be a connoisseur, so you just offered him a secretive smile, followed by, “Maybe I am”.

He chuckled, and then guided you to the living room. Another spacious room, with a rug in front of the couch you assumed was worth more than everything you owned. You tried not to let it show on your face, but you were pretty sure Yoongi could tell you were impressed.

The feeling was entirely replaced by surprise at the sight of the little dog that was sleeping in a dog bed under the wide window.

“Why haven’t I seen that dog before?” you asked, eyes widened.

“You like dogs?”

You nodded, and you took a couple of steps towards the animal. It almost looked dead where it was lying, but then the little dog looked up at you, blinking away sleepy eyes.

“He’s called Holly,” Yoongi provided as the dog got up, stretching and yawning. “He’s lazy.”

You faked offence for the dog. “Poor little baby, he’s just tired.”

Yoongi laughed, and the sound made you quickly look away from him. As much as it had been unexpected, it did wonders to the sadness that had been clinging to your form all day.

“Sorry Holly.”

It was your turn to laugh as the little dog barked before running to Yoongi, begging to be picked up. Yoongi took a sip of whiskey, before putting his glass down on the coffee table. He sat down on the couch, cuddling the dog to his chest as he got comfortable.

It was so domestic you just stood there, staring at him. He motioned to the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”

It broke the spell, and you blinked a few times before obeying, busying yourself with sipping the whiskey to ignore the way your cheeks were burning.

“How long have you had the dog?” you asked, trying to fill the silence that was threatening to fall into awkwardness.

And as Yoongi started telling you the tale of how he got his dog, you slowly settled yourself more comfortably on the couch, drinking the whiskey as you enjoyed listening to him. He looked far friendlier than you had ever seen him, and it slowly became easy to forget you were just a collaborator.

Maybe if it hadn’t been your birthday, you would have refused the third glass he offered. And maybe, maybe if your mind hadn’t started fogging with the alcohol, you would have refused the fourth.

By the time you started the fifth, you were drunk, and Holly had gone into hiding somewhere, letting you sit closer to Yoongi on the couch. Luckily enough for you, you could stand your alcohol pretty well, and you forced a mask on your features so Yoongi couldn’t tell just how inebriated you were.

Not that he was faring any better. Yoongi had a red flush to his cheeks, and he had run his hand in his hair earlier in a way that had let it ruffled. It made him look good, and you tilted your head to the side as you listened to him tell you about his recent concerts in Vegas.

“It’s funny,” you sighed as he fell silent to drink from his glass. “While you were having shows in Vegas I was busking in Hongdae.”

He swallowed the oaky alcohol, licking his lips dry from the drops that had lingered on them. “I saw videos of you busking.”

Your eyes widened, and you let out a small chuckle. “Please save me the embarrassment.”

He laughed, slightly shaking his head. As if the thought of you being embarrassing was the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life.

“Don’t be embarrassed, I’ve been there too.”

An eternity ago, maybe. But the condo around you looked nothing like someone that used to be a busker. “You’ve had far more success than I’ve ever had,” you said, voice low.

His eyes connected with yours, and for a moment all there was was the synchronized beating of your hearts. He was the one to break the contact, and it almost felt as if you were going to fall forward from the rupture.

“You’ll get your success too,” he whispered. “Your music is amazing.”

You blushed, but the flush from the alcohol did a good job at hiding it. “I do hope so.”

A smile played on his lips as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. He played with the rim of the glass, almost pensively. “Army will love your music.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. “For giving me this opportunity.”

“You deserve it.”

His gaze moved back to yours. Yoongi had pretty eyes, deep eyes that told tales of suffering and healing. He had gone through a lot, to get where he was now. From the interviews you had listened to, you actually had a similar past to his. And you felt understood, as he gazed at you. With a softness to his eyes you had never really seen anywhere else.

Min Yoongi had experienced the worst this world has to offer, but he had also experienced the best. You could only hope your turn would come someday.

You took a sip, holding his gaze for a moment, before cowering away. “You know,” you started. And you didn’t really know what to say. Only thought he might understand. “It was my birthday, today.”

He straightened, surprise moving on his drunken features. “Was it?”

You nodded.

“Happy birthday,” he said, with a grave voice.

You shifted a little closer to him, only because he was looking at you with too much intensity for you to resist. The air turned warm, hot, filled with expectancy.

“Thank you.” You wet your lips, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Thank you for letting me record it.”

“I hope it helped.”

Another nod of your head, as you took yet another sip of the whiskey. This time mostly because the feeling inside of you needed to be ignored. To be avoided at all costs.

Too bad alcohol kills the inhibition, right?

You couldn’t even tell who did the first move. All you knew was that your glass was snatched from your hands, put down on the coffee table and then you were tasting the alcohol on Yoongi’s lips. The kiss was ravaging, taking your loneliness and burning it down, until all you could feel was Yoongi’s body under your hungry hands.

His own hands were all over you too. On your back, on the nape of your neck, in your hair. One large hand sneaked to the front until it had wrapped around your breast, and you moaned in his mouth. You grabbed a handful of his hair and sucked on his bottom lip as he pulled you closer.

You climbed on his lap, and you held yourself on his shoulders as your mouth found his again, kissing him with no restraint, no inhibition. Min Yoongi was a damn good kisser. It made you ache with want, as you imagined the other things his wicked tongue could do…

The hand on your breast hadn’t really moved since it had found it, so you put one of yours above it, pushing it harder. Searching for more pressure, more friction, anything that would make you forget the loneliness of the day.

Maybe Yoongi was trying to forget something too. You didn’t really care. It wasn’t like your brain could think past this moment or the next. All you were focused on was the now, and the bulge you were currently perched on.

You grinded your hips, probably a little too hard, and Yoongi grunted, pulling you closer, grabbing your hips until he could hold you in place. Yet he didn’t resist as you rocked your hips again, and the hold he had on your hips only turned you on even more.

You moved from his mouth to his neck, trailing wet kisses down until the collar of his shirt, and then up to his ear. He threw his head back to rest it on the couch, exposing the pretty column of his neck. You sucked on his Adam’s apple next, before finding his lips for yet another heated kiss.

As you kissed, tongues entwined, your hands moved down his chest, searching for the hem of his shirt. You pulled away from him just long enough to rid him of the piece of clothing, and you didn’t even look back to see where you had dropped it. You were too busy crashing your mouth on his again, chasing the remnants of the whiskey. He kissed you back with the same intensity, his large hands still holding your hips, though he let you have control of your movements.      

The thought he was letting you do whatever you wanted made your blood sing, and you pulled away to kneel between his legs. He was breathing heavily as his eyes opened, meeting your gaze while you were working on his belt. You struggled with it for a bit, and he offered a helping hand as you moved to caress the length of him through his jeans. He instinctively bucked his hips, and you put your face down on his thigh as he finished unbuckling his belt.

You looked up at him innocently, before begrudgingly lifting your head so you could take off his pants. He pushed up from the couch just enough for the jeans to move under his ass, and soon enough all that was left between you and him was the white fabric of his boxer briefs. You barely hesitated before kissing the hardening length, and his hands clenched into fists on each side of him. It made you feel wicked, and you replaced your lips with your teeth, though you didn’t bite down.

Your goal wasn’t to hurt him after all. You just wanted to see how far Min Yoongi would go before begging you to suck his dick. So you teased him, teased the sensitive cock that was growing harder from all your ministrations. But you never gave in, never pulled the underwear down.

Yoongi breathed out an annoyed breath, and you smirked up at him. “Is there something that you want?”

His mouth fell open, and he looked startled that you asked, as if it wasn’t already clear what he wanted.

You landed another kiss on the tip of his dick, licking at the wet spot where his precum had leaked through the fabric. “Don’t you want something?”

He nodded.

“You’ll have to tell me with words,” you purred, and the smirk on your lips turned devilish as you pulled his underwear down, just enough for his cock to rest free on his stomach. You waited for him to say something, tutting as he just remained silent, with that same widened gaze as before. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Suck my dick,” he said with a small voice.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t there something missing?”

He almost looked scared for a moment. Intimidated for sure. Even if he was the big name between the two of you, you currently had him wrapped around your finger.

“Please?” he tried.

“Good boy.”

You finally gave in to your desires and his, eyes dropping to the dick in front of you. As everything that came with Yoongi, his cock was pretty. Large enough that you knew it’d be a stretch, with a pretty tip that shone red. A bead of precum appeared on the slit, and you immediately leaned in, licking it.

Yoongi hissed, and from the corner of your eyes you could see his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.

“You can touch me, you know,” you told him, grabbing one of his hands.

You meant to put it in your hair, but instead Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hand, his long fingers keeping you from moving.

Well, this was a start. You didn’t usually hold hands when you were sucking someone’s dick, but if that was what he wanted, then you were happy to oblige.

You got to work, licking a long stripe from the base of his dick up to the head, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive part before letting your lips close around it. You sucked on it, resting your tongue flat against the length of him before you went down, slowly, taking in as much of him as you could. You stopped when he hit the back of your throat, and he grunted once again. His free hand flew to your hair, pulling it to the side so he could look at you.

You moved back up, playing with his frenulum as he was almost out before going down again, quicker this time.

Yoongi never forced you to suck his dick. Only hissed and grunted, as you worked on him, his dick hardening in your mouth with every bob of your head. He tasted good, and you started going faster, just to hear more of the pretty sounds he let out when he hit the back of your throat.

You moaned around him, testing the waters to see if he liked that. Most guys usually did, and Yoongi wasn’t any different. He met your gaze, and he looked spent for a moment, a panting mess under the ministrations of your mouth.

He licked his lips as you hollowed your cheeks, drawing circles on his dick before you pulled out. You sat back on your heels, jerking him off quickly as you met his gaze.

“I want to sit on your face.”

If he was surprised, he gave you no indications of it. Only let go of your hand so he could lie down on the couch. You let out a small laugh, cocking your head to the side.

“You’ll have to undress me first.”

“Right,” he muttered, and he sat up quickly, hands reaching for you.

You couldn’t resist moving closer until you could press your lips on his. He wasn’t expecting it, and it took him a few seconds before he was kissing you back with the same fervor you had applied to his dick. Which was a lot, and you moaned in his mouth as his tongue found yours. You let him have dominance this time, just because his hands were undressing you, unbuttoning your pants and fighting to get them down your legs.

You pulled away from the kiss so you could stand up, and a second later your pants were pooling around your ankles. You weren’t wearing particularly attractive panties, so you took them off yourself, and the piece of clothing met your pants on the ground a second before you were stepping out of the pile.

You took off your shirt yourself as you were climbing on his lap again, and you grinded on his dick once before motioning to the couch. “Lay down.”

He wet his lips, nodding a single time before he started moving. You stood just long enough for him to be able to lay down, and then you were already climbing back on top of him, legs on each side of his face. He grabbed your thighs as you lowered yourself on him, and the first lap of his tongue on you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You hadn’t been wrong. Yoongi knew how to use that wicked tongue of his. Dipping it deep inside of you to get a taste, before focusing on your clit. Torturing it with a light pressure, until you grinded into his face to seek for more. He got the message then and he flattened his tongue, pressing into you harder, lapping you in time with the grinding of your hips.

Unfortunately for you, you had never really been able to come when you were drunk. No matter how hard you chased the high, it always evaded you. Yoongi was by far the best you had had in a while. Or it was just the fact he was Min Yoongi, and he was pliant to all your wishes. Listening to you when you told him to press circles on your clit, obeying when you suggested sucking instead.

He really was wrapped around your finger, wasn’t he?

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you praised him, the sentence finishing in a moan. It only made him work harder, and your legs were shaking by the time you spoke again. “Do you have condoms?”

He couldn’t reply. Not when you were riding his face like that. So you reluctantly moved down his body, and he gulped in air as you sat back on his dick.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

You let out an unexpected laugh, and a smile appeared on his lips. It disappeared as soon as you crashed your mouth on his, and he grabbed your face to kiss you deeply. His chin was wet from your juice, but you didn’t care. You tasted all of yourself on him, licking him clean until you were satisfied.

When you sat back on him, he had a dazed expression on his features. His hair was a mess all around his head, and you let out another small laugh as you bent, just enough for your hands to reach the strands, taming them gently.

His eyes had gone dark when you straightened again. You wondered if what you had done was wrong, but you didn’t want to know. So you moved your hips, circling on his dick, and he hissed again.

“Do you have condoms?” you repeated the question.      

His hands rested on your thighs, caressing them up and down as he said, “In my bedroom”.

You grinded again. “As much as I’d like for you to fuck me raw, we should get a condom.” You got up, albeit reluctantly, and you offered him a hand.

The perspective that he was about to fuck you probably chased whatever darkness had invaded him, because he grabbed your hand as he stood, before bending down to take his whiskey glass too. He chugged it, and you only had time to take a hold of yours before he was pulling you behind him.

You drank small sips of your glass as you followed Yoongi, eyes falling to his ass. It was pretty, and you were once again struck with how everything was pretty when it came to Min Yoongi. For all the rough edges of his professional personality, Yoongi was pretty, with softness behind the mask.

And you could glimpse at the softness, as he pulled you behind him, uncaring that you were both naked halfway up his staircase. His thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly, and you held his hand a little tighter.

It did feel less lonely, all of a sudden.

Min Yoongi’s bedroom was dark. Walls painted in a dark shade of grey, comforter ink black. The only light thing in his room was the canvas over the headboard of his bed. A painting, abstract at that, in shades of white and beige that seemed like a beacon in the darkness of the wall. The furniture in the room was black too, and the tiled ceramic floor completed the décor in its own shade of grey, almost matching the paint on the wall.

The room was tidy, so tidy you weren’t even sure anyone lived here. But then Yoongi let go of your hand, carelessly walking to a night table, and his gaze slid to you as you stopped at the entrance.

You cocked your head to the side, downing the rest of your glass with your eyes still holding on to his gaze. His chest moved quickly, up and down, as if he was out of breath. And maybe he was, and the predatory look you set on him made adrenaline run through his blood. He wet his lips, and his gaze dropped, before sliding to his bedside table.

He fished a condom out of it, and he was about to tear the package open when you talked.

“Let me do it.”

He froze, and then a smirk moved on his lips. It made everything in you sing with burning lust, and you crossed the distance between the two of you. You dropped your glass on the bedside table, before biting in your bottom lip as you turned to face him. He held out the package for you to take, and you took it from his long fingers. You had expected his hand to drop at his side, but he instead moved it between the two of you, cupping your breast through the bralette you were wearing.

You gulped, instinctively stepping closer to press his hand harder against you, just the way you liked it. He understood, and his other hand cupped your other breast. He massaged them, hard, pinching your nipples through the fabric of the bralette. The friction of the fabric on the sensitive buds had stars forming on the periphery of your vision, and you let out a moan as you tore the package of the condom open, fishing the actual condom out with eager fingers.

You didn’t have time to reach down to his dick before Yoongi moved on his knees. He sucked on the skin of your thigh, hard, leaving a purple bruise behind that he soothed with a kiss.

“Let me just eat you out more, mmh?”

You didn’t have the ability to say no, so you sat on his bed and pulled his head closer to your heat, other hand clutching the condom so it wouldn’t fall on the comforter.

Yoongi’s tongue truly was skilled. And it moved fast on your clit. You could see the mirage of an orgasm on the horizon, but the alcohol in your blood kept it away, frustratingly so. Even when Yoongi slid two fingers inside of you, curling them to hit a sweet spot inside of you. It felt divine, and you moaned for him, telling him just how good he was. It made him work harder, and he eventually whined, resting his head on your thigh to look at you.

“I want to feel you on my dick,” he said, and he sounded almost shy. As if voicing his desires was forbidden.

You bit your lip again, letting out a ragged breath as your heart beat wildly in your chest, almost drowning out his words. “Then get on the bed.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly laid down next to you, stroking his dick as you kneeled next to him. You swatted the hand away, and he smirked again as you started rolling the condom down his length. You jerked him off a couple of times when you were done, before climbing on his lap.

He watched you carefully. As if he was only then realizing what was happening. He still let you position him at your entrance, and you sunk down, just enough for his tip to start parting your folds.

“Can I?” you asked, stopping there.

He wet his lips. “Please.”

It was your turn to smirk wickedly, as you sunk down on him until most of him was inside of you. It stretched, but he had prepared you so well he slid right in, and you moaned as he bottomed out.

“You’re big,” you praised him. “What a good fucking boy.”

His hands flew to your hips, fingers digging in the supple skin. “You say that as if you’re not fucking wet for me.”

Oh. Min Yoongi did have a dominant bone in him.

“Aish,” you moaned. “You’re going to fuck me, mmh?”

He sat up a little, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you down with him. “If you ask so nicely.”

You were surprised by the small laugh that fell from your mouth, but it quickly died as Yoongi started jackhammering his hips against yours, his dick fucking into your walls so deliciously, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He held you tight against him as he fucked you, and your dominant side returned as he let out a moan in your ear.

Your hand snaked between your bodies, until it was wrapped around his throat, finding the two sides of it. You cut the blood supply to his brain, fingers digging in the arteries, and he let out a louder moan this time, something that somehow resembled your name. Still he didn’t slow down, and you sucked on the side of his jaw, mouth needing to do something to muffle the pleasured sounds that kept tumbling from it.

You released your grip on Yoongi’s throat after a time, and you moved until you could catch his lips for a quick yet languid kiss. You swallowed the grunts he let out before sitting up on him. He only then slowed the roll of his hips, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours.

“Let me fuck myself on you a little,” you said, head cocked to the side. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Please.”

You didn’t need more to start moving, slowly, in a dance that had to be frustrating to him after the relentless pace he had set. Yet it felt heavenly, stretching all of you wide open, the drag of his dick along your velvet walls making you reach for something to hold on to. It turned out to be your breasts, and your hands slipped under the bralette as you palmed yourself.

“So fucking good,” you breathed, and Yoongi’s large hands settled on your hips again, guiding you on him.

Making you roll your hips more, impaling you on him until he was fully in.

“I think I could fuck you all night,” he declared, and he seemed astonished. As if he hadn’t expected the ordeal to feel this good. And it did feel good, far more than you had ever thought it could.

“Hope you have good stamina then,” you said, half teasing, but the lustful look adorning his gaze told you that he just might fuck you all night.

“For you?” He wet his lips, moaning as you circled your hips in just the right way. “Fuck, I could come like this.”

Surprisingly enough, he didn’t let you continue. He stilled your hips, before sitting up again. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and the following moment disappeared in your mind, dizziness taking the forefront of the scene as Yoongi spun you until you were lying down, with him on top of you.

It took him a few seconds to realize he might have moved you too quickly, but he soon said, “Are you okay?”

You huffed out a breath, eyes fluttering closed. “That was dizzying.”

He chuckled, and he pushed back inside of you. You hadn’t felt him fall out, but you sure as hell felt him as he slowly slid in, all the way.

“I wanted to see what you look like under me.”

You opened your eyes, and you were relieved to see the world was not turning as much anymore. “Like the sight?” you teased, and your hand shot between you to press circles on your clit, lazily.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he was thrusting into you again, fast and hard.

You cried out a delighted moan and you timed your ministrations on your clit with his movements, until everything seemed to blend in together.

Yoongi fucked you for a while. He did have good stamina, and the more you praised him the more he kept going, with sweat dripping from his forehead, wetting locks of his hair. He looked sinfully good, the sounds he made a melody you had never imagined you’d hear, one that mixed with your own moans until it was a song, of passion and desire and everything in between.

You couldn’t quite tell how long it lasted. Only that Yoongi’s movement grew sloppier, his breathing ragged as he bent down to hide his face in your neck. He sucked a spot on your skin, and your hand found the nape of his neck to hold him in place.

“I think we’re too drunk,” you murmured as Yoongi slid in and out, slowly, but never fully stopping.

“You feel so good.”

You chuckled, and your fingers drew circles on his scalp for a few seconds before you replied, “We won’t come”.

Yoongi persisted for a time, dragging his length inside of you until you started digging your nails in the skin of his back. “Right.” He thrusted in twice more, before stopping all the way in, his dick fully impaling you. “You just feel so good.”

You stayed like that for a time, unmoving, your breaths in sync as your hearts slowly returned to a normal rhythm. Yoongi’s dick had gone soft by the time he pulled out, yet he remained on top of you, breathing in your scent.

“I should go,” you said after what felt like an eternity. Your eyelids were drooping, and you held him close to you as you spoke the words.

“Stay for the night,” Yoongi murmured, his lips moving against your neck. His voice was deep, scratchy, and it made you want to be closer to him, until you were blended with his soul.

He was comfort. For a reason unknown, Min Yoongi was comfort personified, and you really didn’t want to go. Even if you were slowly coming down from the buzz of alcohol. You sighed, before pushing him to the side.

“You’re crushing me,” you admitted, and he let out a small chuckle, before rolling to the side.

He settled next to you, an arm draped around your stomach, face nuzzled into your neck. His proximity felt strange. For someone that usually seemed closed off, Min Yoongi appeared to have let you in… tonight.

Was it the song, or the fact that you had been alone on your birthday? Had he found pity in you, and tried to gift you with his own form of comfort? It made you feel pathetic, but his steady breathing as he fell asleep calmed you down, melted your worries away, until sleep found you in its hold too.

Yoongi didn’t let go of you while he slept.

 *****

                 Dawn was grey. Colourless, as if the sun was the source of all colours in this world. As if its absence kept the colours at bay, changed them into shades of black and grey that melted together in a strange picture. It was unfamiliar, foreign, as if you weren’t supposed to be awake at this hour.

It took you a moment to realize the greyness wasn’t from dawn, but from the colour on the walls. A moment longer for the pounding in your head to awaken, reminding you of the alcohol you had ingested the night before.

You weren’t at home. In fact, you were lying on a mattress far more comfortable than anything you could ever own, in a luxurious yet sparsely decorated room that was far from your own.

The comforter had slipped from your body as you slept, and you shivered from the chill air. A breeze was playing in the curtains by the window, and it smelled of rain, though the panes of the window were still dry. You turned your head to the side, afraid of the sight that would come.

Min Yoongi looked like a prince, lying next to you. His hair formed a crown around his head where it rested on the pillow, and his soft features looked regal in the morning light. His mouth was slightly opened, and little snores came out of him each time he exhaled.

His hand had fallen from your stomach at some point in the night. It rested next to you now, fingers reaching towards you but not really touching. As if he had never meant to let go in the first place. Still, you were glad he had.

Because with the morning, reality rushed back in.

It ceased you, grabbed your heart and squeezed it in your chest as you watched him sleep for a moment longer. Just because he was peaceful, and you wished to revel in the peace. Refused to let reality crush this moment, not before you had it committed to memory, locking it up in a safe corner of your heart.

But when it was locked up, you took the key and threw it away, never to be found again.

You blinked the grogginess away, eyes searching around you for your clothes. It took you a few seconds to remember you had discarded all of the fabric downstairs last night, except your bralette, and you winced at the thought that you would have to go down there naked to get dressed again.

You sat up, shivering once again in the chill air, goosebumps raising on your flesh until your skin looked pricked by it. You glanced at Yoongi before getting up. The song came back to your mind – the gut-wrenching lyrics screaming of loneliness, of never finding solace in people’s company, of seeking for a family that never comes.

Loneliness felt worse in the grey light of dawn. And right on cue, rain started splattering on the window, drowning out the sounds of Yoongi sleeping, and the rustle of the sheets as you slipped out of the bed.

The ceramic floor was warm under your feet, and you tiptoed your way to the door. Not daring to look back, barely even daring to breathe. You didn’t want Yoongi to wake up, not when you were about to leave without saying goodbye.

For some reason, you thought he might understand. You thought Yoongi could understand that loneliness sometimes needed to be dealt with alone. No matter how salvaging last night had been for the lone heart in your chest, the morning called for something else. For reality to settle back in. What had happened last night was unprofessional, inherently so, and it filled you with dread.

Maybe that was the reason you were fleeing after all.

You reached the door, hand settling on the knob. You couldn’t resist looking back then, as if you just needed to make sure that this moment had been real. Yoongi’s hands had moved a little while you were walking away, fingers reaching for your warmth. A frown moved on his features as he didn’t find it, but they relaxed as he exhaled loudly.

He was still sound asleep, and infinitely peaceful. You hoped nothing would ever break his peace.

You slipped out of the bedroom, shutting the door soundlessly behind you before walking down to the living room, where you put on your clothes. You had half a thought of leaving a note behind, to explain why you hadn’t stayed, but you didn’t know where Yoongi might have paper in his condo, and you didn’t want to linger around long enough for him to wake up.

You were putting on your shoes when he appeared at the top of the stairs, draped in a white robe to keep the cold at bay. His features were back in the same icy mask he had sported at the beginning of the night yesterday, and you gulped as he stared you down.

“You’re leaving early,” he stated as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms on his chest.

His hair was a mess from last night – long gone was the crown you had woken up to see. He looked unkempt, and there was a line from his pillow on his face. It made him look human, terribly so, and you felt bad for wanting to leave.

“I don’t think I belong here,” you admitted.

With a small voice, as small as the fear inside of you. Because yes, you were lonely. But being here in this too big condo with someone that was just supposed to be a work collaborator… it made you feel out of place.

A line appeared between Yoongi’s brows, and he pushed up from the wall to start walking down the stairs. “I invited you to sleep over, you have all the rights to be here.”

You wet your lips, chasing the frustration of not being understood away. “I mean, we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” You watched as Yoongi finished walking down the stairs, sitting on the very last step. “It was fun, I won’t deny it, but it was unprofessional.”

He leaned against the wall again, looking at you with a gaze that made you feel naked, as if he was seeing right through your soul. You turned your head away, wanting to flee but not having the courage to do so when his eyes were on you. As if, if you stayed unmoving, maybe the whole situation would disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t see you anymore, the way that he was seeing you now.

“It was,” he agreed, to your surprise. “I’m not big on regrets though, I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.”

“I-” you caught yourself before you added more.

I what? I don’t regret it? I’m not big on regrets either? Why then did this morning taste awfully like regret?

Yoongi just held your gaze, not prodding but visibly expecting you to continue. Maybe you owed him as much.

“I’m just afraid it will ruin our professional relationship,” you admitted.

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I thought so. I can always push back releasing the song if you prefer.”

Your eyes widened, right as your heart stopped in your chest. Did he know how much you needed the money? Did he know that you were on the verge of giving up on your dreams because you couldn’t afford your apartment?

“I don’t know,” you said, and it was true. You didn’t know if you wanted to risk not releasing the song, but you didn’t know if you wanted to keep working with Yoongi in the immediate future either.

You needed to get rid of the loneliness alone after all.

“Then think about it,” Yoongi suggested. “I can always pay for all the work that you did, and if you feel like releasing it some day you just let me know.”

You pursed your lips. It was a good idea. A decent suggestion, yet it felt wrong. Because releasing the song was certain to open up the world to you. Or so you had been hoping. Could you give up on that dream?

“I will,” you said. “I’ll think about it, and I’ll let you know.”            

Yoongi nodded, before stretching his legs in front of him. “Can we talk before you leave though?”

You didn’t know what he wanted to talk about. Only knew that the longer you were to stay here, the more the loneliness was going to drown you.

“What is there to talk about?”

His features turned grave. You were struck that he looked as if he was going to announce the end of the world, as if the Earth was about to stop turning and you’d all crash into a wall at eighty miles per hour.

“I have to admit something,” he said. His eyes found the floor again, though he had been avoiding your gaze for a moment now. “I have someone in my life.”

A lump formed in your throat. A disgusting, guilty lump that tasted like bile. “You cheated on someone with me?”

He slowly shook his head no. “We’re on a break. I just thought you deserved to know.”

The loneliness was real. It was a feeling you knew all too well, in all of its labyrinths and corners. It wove its way in every crevice of your soul, and God knew your soul was filled with crevices. With cracks, from all the times you had needed to glue yourself back together.

“Oh.”

It was all you could voice as the enormity of his revelation dawned on you. Was that why he had looked upset yesterday? Had he tried to forget his own loneliness by drowning in you?

Had it worked?

“I’m sorry.”

Min Yoongi did look apologetic, but you found him a coward. A coward for avoiding your gaze like he was right now, for looking devastated sitting there on the stairs. And maybe he truly was devastated, if he was on a break with the person that he loved.

Why had you come when you were at your most vulnerable?

“Thank you for your honesty,” you said, voice blanched with the horror in you. Because you were horrified, to think you had slept with a man that belonged to another. Though the pounding in your head reminded you that it was alcohol that had caused the ordeal, that it wasn’t you, and you clung to that thought.

Because if your inhibitions hadn’t been lowered, you would have never slept with Min Yoongi.

He remained silent for a little eternity, and then somewhere in himself he found the courage to look at you again. You almost wished he hadn’t.

“Do you want me to send you the song today, still?”

It was a fair question. One that could bring you back in the charted territory of your professional relationship. It felt safer, and you let out a shaky breath to calm the pit in your chest.

The pit had always been there, you reckoned. It just was harder to ignore on this dreadful dawn.

“Sure,” you answered, though you had no intention to listen to it.

No, it was probably better to put this all in the past. To forget the comfort Yoongi had brought to you last night. You almost wished you had been able to run before he’d woken up, but you weren’t a coward. This conversation would have been needed at some point.

“Is there something you want to say?” Yoongi enquired, gently. With a voice that sounded far older than he was, far wiser than he had to be.

“I don’t know.” You parted your lips as you wanted to continue speaking, but nothing came out. So you shut your mouth, rocking back and forth on your heels as anxiety spiked through you, replacing the initial horror. “I am sorry it happened.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be. As I told you, I don’t do regrets anymore.”

You would have liked to be able to tell if he was lying, but Min Yoongi was an unreadable book when he wanted to be.

“I hope you fix your relationship,” you said. You really did, if only to forget last night had ever happened. He remained silent, lips stretched in a tight smile. “I…” you trailed off, and it was your turn to lower your gaze to the floor. “I appreciated last night, though.”

He wet his lips. “I won’t lie to you. I appreciated it too.”

“But life is life, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question, one he didn’t reply to. “I guess I’ll go.”

He sighed, loud enough for you to hear. It wasn’t an annoyed sigh. No, it sounded as if he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

So much for not regretting, uh?

“I’ll send you the song,” he reiterated. “Please take care of yourself.”

It made a drop of anger fall in the ocean of loneliness you were drowning in. Because you had shown him the darkness in you last night, and he had hidden the truth from you. And maybe he didn’t even owe it to you, you just wished he had said something last night, before it was too late.

Before your body knew that it was molded to fit his perfectly.

“Will do,” you replied curtly.

You turned away from him then, hoping he couldn’t see the hurt in your eyes. You didn’t even know if you were allowed to be hurt. Didn’t even know if you were actually hurt, or if you just needed to be alone.

In all the misery that it brought you, loneliness was your comfort zone.

 *****

                 The days had stretched into eternity, busking keeping your mind from rushing back to the events you had partaken in with Min Yoongi. Minhyuk had been appalled, when you had told him that the song would likely never be released. You had told him enough about what had happened with Yoongi, without ever really confirming that you had slept together, yet Minhyuk hadn’t let it go.

He only had when you had received the money Min Yoongi had promised to pay, earlier this afternoon. It was an astronomical sum for someone who got by with busking. As your contract with Minhyuk asked for, you had shared half the sum with him, and still it left you with far more money than you had ever owned.

Min Yoongi hadn’t offered an explanation as to why he had paid you so much money. And you hadn’t asked for one yet, choosing to go to Hongdae to change your mind instead. To remind you that busking was who you were, even if you hadn’t rented an area for tonight.

No, tonight you would just walk around and watch people live their lives. Happy, smiling, unaware of the abyss you felt like you were drowning in.

Seeing Min Yoongi on your birthday had been a mistake. The anger had turned into something else, something far more intimidating. Disgust with yourself, with your acts and your choices. Regret that you hadn’t stopped when you should have, and that he hadn’t said anything before it was too late.

You wondered if he was back with the person that owned his heart. If you leaving like that had pushed him back in their arms, if their relationship had found grounds to work again.

You were jealous. But also hurt… because Yoongi had been comfort. You wished you had told him, wish he had known what it had meant for you to be with him on your birthday like that. When you laid awake at night, sleep evading you, you wondered if it would have made a difference.

Would Min Yoongi have let you go on that dreadful dawn if you had told him?

You couldn’t know. But then again, sometimes, during those same sleepless nights, you wondered if it was too late. If there was a chance you could tell him. If he had chosen not to get back with his partner.

If he too sometimes laid awake at night thinking about your body against his.

Loneliness was making you go crazy inside.

You sighed, taking a deep breath of the fresh evening air. Hongdae was lively. Filled with laughter and chatter. And with your own dark cloud, that seemed to loom over you wherever you went now.

You were at a low point in life. You were aware of it. It was hard to see the good in things when you had turned your back on the little sense of company you had been able to find in Yoongi. Though he hadn’t really been company, no? Just a brief connection in a sea of temporary people.

Only Minhyuk stayed around, and he only did because he worked for you.

But the money… The money was more than you had ever thought you’d have. It made you wonder, was that what celebrities made when they worked together? Why such astronomical sums for people that didn’t even need money in the first place?

Or maybe Yoongi had known that you were struggling with money. Maybe that was his way of apologizing. You weren’t prideful enough to hate him for it. As a matter of fact, you had been debating calling him to thank him, or even going to his place. Maybe that was why you were in Hongdae after all.

Long walks to clear your mind usually always worked, didn’t they?

A couple in front of you burst out laughing, and the guy grabbed his girlfriend’s hand, pulling her in a hug. Public displays of affection were rare in Korea, but Hongdae held a different crowd. A looser one, that didn’t live up to the expectations of elders. It was a crowd you found you rather enjoyed, especially as you busked and they enjoyed your music.

You brought happiness to their lives, didn’t you? Why then was happiness evading you?

You scoffed, and the guy threw you a glance. Your eyes dipped to the floor, and you almost winced in embarrassment. You thought about telling him that you weren’t scoffing because of him, but it would have been useless, wouldn’t it?

His attention was already back on his girlfriend, as if he was but the mere moon and she the Earth. It was cute. It really was, in a heart-wrenching kind of way.

So much for dealing with loneliness alone, right?

You wanted to talk to Yoongi. Wanted to thank him, wanted to let him know he had been the first to make you feel something in a long time. Hell, you hadn’t had sex in over a year before him.

Could you just go and talk to him? Could you tell him that you had been too shaken that morning, and that you hadn’t been able to tell him the thoughts in your skull? Your imprisoned mind, clustered in a dark corner of your head, had been subdued to your loneliness.

Surely he would understand.

A group of friends walked past you, and their joy felt contagious. You wanted to cling to the feeling of your lips stretching into a smile, wanted to use the warmth they carried themselves with to forget the cold in you.

Being a lyricist made you far too dramatic for your own good, didn’t it? Because you could see around yourself, people that were alone too. Walking with their hands in their pockets, with light in their eyes as they watched the scene around you. It didn’t have to be a sad scene. You didn’t have to cling to the sadness.

It didn’t matter that it was your comfort zone. If you ever wanted to get better, you had to stop using it as a shield. Had to shrug the coat off, and step into the summer warmth, leaving the winter cold behind.

Only, it was still cold at this time of the year.

You thought about Minhyuk. Minhyuk, who had always believed in you. Who trusted that you would make it someday, that he just had to encourage you in the process. Minhyuk, who had fallen in love with one of his friends, and had a beautiful love story to call his now.

There was happiness in this world. And you weren’t selfish enough to believe you didn’t deserve happiness. It was just hard to find it when your family had forgotten about you, when you woke up to learn he belonged to another.

You didn’t have feelings for Min Yoongi. At least you tried to convince yourself of it. You didn’t really know what you felt. Only that what had happened on your birthday had to be caused by more than just the alcohol. Because it hadn’t been your first time being vulnerable and drunk in a man’s company. It had been your first time jumping on that man though.

You had enjoyed working with him. Had found his work ethic inspiring, and had felt as if your soul was singing whenever you worked on music together. There was something in Min Yoongi that resonated in you, as if his existence triggered a harmonious frequency inside of you. A terribly unprofessional harmonious frequency, yet you hadn’t found friction to slow it down. Only had your treacherous thoughts and sleepless nights.

Maybe talking to him would release you. Would free the mind that was clustered in your skull, would let it fly into the sky again, to soar above clouds and mountains and valleys.

You probably needed it. Needed to say thank you for the money, and tell him you would find the strength to listen to the song someday. Just not when you were already so vulnerable.

And a hidden, dark corner of your heart also wanted to tell him how you had felt that night. Wanted to tell him he was comfort personified, and that you were thankful you had had the chance to experience it, even if it had been but a mere, fleeting moment in your life.

A romantic through and through, weren’t you?

Or maybe it was just Hongdae’s air, and the ambiance it held. Of happiness, that you could find if only you reached out far enough.

And life was about risk, wasn’t it? If you never talked to Min Yoongi, never told him the thoughts in your imprisoned mind, then you would be stuck with them for the rest of your life. Stuck with their decaying form, until they turned your memory into a prison in and of itself too.

You didn’t want the memory of Min Yoongi to turn into decay. Wanted to remember the good parts of it and let go of the bad. He was the one saying he didn’t do regrets anymore, wasn’t he?

Maybe you didn’t have to regret this either. But for that, you needed to tell him the feelings in your mind.

You sighed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Long walks really did wonders to you, didn’t they?

You should have left your apartment before.

Instead of beating yourself up for it, you took a few steadying breaths, before heading straight to the nearest subway station. It wasn’t particularly late, and by chance you’d get to his place before the hour would be indecent.

It wasn’t like night hours were indecent to Min Yoongi. He was a night owl, much like you were too. Him letting you in his condo the last time at such a late hour was proof enough of it.

It was in that mindset that you made your way to his condo, with no gifts this time. Considering where the last time had led you, you didn’t want to risk offering him anything. You just wanted to talk. To tell him thank you for that night. For making you realize that you weren’t quite alone in this big wide universe.

This time, Min Yoongi wasn’t outside when you arrived. It occurred to you that there was a possibility he wasn’t even home, but then again he had always come off to you as the kind of person that usually stayed in most of the time. So you walked into the building, nodding your head curtly at the security.

It was the same person you had seen the two other times you were here, and you had become familiar enough to them so that they’d let you pass without asking a question. You were glad for it – you didn’t know what you would have told them anyway. You had no business being here, belonged to an entire other world.

Still, you found yourself on Min Yoongi’s door mat. Fist hovering in front of the door, not daring to knock or ring the bell. You stayed there for a good five minutes, trying to assemble enough courage to make a move, but all you could do was stare.

It seemed staring was enough, because five minutes later, after you rang the bell, the door turned on its hinges, and Min Yoongi appeared.

His gaze widened, quite at the same time as yours did. Blood flushed your cheeks, and you let your hand fall at your side.

“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, an echo of your greeting the last time you had seen him. Your lips stretched into an easy smile, and you wondered if your heart picking up its rate in your chest was a normal physiological response to the presence of Min Yoongi.

Maybe it was.

Yoongi didn’t move. In fact, he looked as if he was holding his breath, and as if all colour had leached from his features.

You understood why when a small figure appeared behind him, and all colour leached from your features next.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and her eyes slid to you. “Who’s that?”

Your brain went empty. Entirely empty. There was the sound of ringing, but everything else was distant, as your vision blurred on the edges, until all there was was a tunnel leading right to Min Yoongi’s pretty features.

The moment stretched into infinity, and your heart rocked against your ribcage three times before Yoongi spoke. You didn’t hear his voice, only saw the lips you had been kissing just a couple of weeks ago moving. And then the pretty girl disappeared from view, features casted into a frown, and all that was left was Min Yoongi and you. Him, inside of his home; you, in the hallway.

It felt like two entire different worlds.

“I didn’t know you were going to come,” he said.

Sensations rushed back to you, and your gaze dropped to the floor.

“I…” you trailed off.

“Is it about the song?”

All you could do was nod, as you blanched standing there. And you did blanch, as if all your blood had exited your body. It was dizzying, and oxygen felt foreign in your lungs.

He led you inside. Right to the studio. You could hear the girl talking as you made your way there, likely to the dog from the sounds of it. And then Yoongi shut the door of his studio, and the sounds faded to nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

It was all he said, as you just stood there not knowing where to look. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if it was right for you to be in here.

“Oh,” you let out. You wet your lips – had they been so dry this whole time? “I came to say thank you for the money.”

He watched you carefully for a few beats of silence, before replying, “You deserved it”.

You chuckled. Bitterly, achingly, or somewhere in between. “I’m not sure I’m worth all of that.”

“I paid you the amount of money your work is worth,” he declared simply. He moved in the room, sitting in the chair in front of the desk. “It was the right thing to do.”

You slowly nodded, before glancing over your shoulder. “Is that…”

You didn’t have to finish your sentence for him to understand. He looked apologetic, once your gaze settled on him again.

“It is,” he confirmed.

It had no business hurting as bad as it did, and yet you felt as if your heart was ripped in two. “Oh.”

His hands were folded in his lap, his shoulders hung low. He looked horrified, somehow, as if only then realizing that all that had happened was wrong. Wrong, and the kind of thing one should regret.

“Have you listened to the song?”

You held his gaze for as long as your heart could manage, before letting it drop to the comfort of the rug on the floor. “No. We probably shouldn’t release it.”

You felt out of breath. The breakthrough you had had while in Hongdae was foreign now, as if it had happened to someone else. Loneliness caught up to you, and all you could do was watch the fall as it happened.

“I’ll put it on hold.” He sounded disappointed, and he wasn’t looking at you anymore when your eyes flitted to him.

How had he been comfort? He was all but comfort now, the source of the ever-growing loneliness that was seeping through every inch of you.

“Thank you.”

Another silence. You were drowning. Drowning in the heaviness in you. It was like quick sands – nothing could stop the sinking, the fall. Falling and falling. You had thought you would fall into him, hadn’t wanted to let yourself formulate the thought, but the hope had been there. The hope had been there, and now you were falling away from him.

“Listen,” Yoongi started. He paused, ran a hand through his hair, folded his arms on his chest, let his fingers fall back into his lap. “I am sorry.” He wet his lips, and you found the strength to look at him. He wasn’t looking at you, and it didn’t seem as if he’d ever have the courage to do it. “I don’t want us to be left on bad terms.”

“We are nothing to each other, aren’t we?” you commented, voice sounding strangely high even to your own ears. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“I honestly didn’t think you were going to come back.”

“I never should have been here in the first place.”

His eyes kept at their journey on the rug, as if he could see lines down there, or maybe one of those drawing you traced with numbers. It was hard to know what he could imagine, hard to know the thoughts in his head.

Could he tell you were falling?

“I know,” he said. His voice was tired, exhausted, remorseful. For someone that didn’t want to regret anything, you could tell he was regretting this, far more than you had expected he would. “She came back two days ago.”

So, if you had been there a week ago, the end would have been different? Now, where would you be when the end came? Alone, as always.

“I’m happy for you.” You surprised even yourself at how genuine you sounded. Maybe because it truly was genuine. Min Yoongi deserved to have someone that loved him around. Someone he loved too. After all he had been through, he deserved it.

He said your name. Intimately, not with any formalities he usually reserved for it. It hurt, far more than everything before. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” you reassured him, even if it sounded false. “It was one night, I’m just a little… shocked.”

You tried to play it cool with a smile, but his eyes were still stubbornly following the lines of his invisible drawing, so he didn’t see it.

“I understand.”

You weren’t sure if he really understood. You didn’t even know what there was to understand. You had slept with Min Yoongi once when you had both been vulnerable, and he had fixed his relationship after. It was just life. You weren’t one to catch feelings easily. He had just been comfort, and it always hurt when comfort was ripped from you, didn’t it?

It was going to pass. Even now, a few minutes later, it was lesser. The initial ache in your heart turning dull, and oxygen returning to your lungs and blood. It didn’t quite feel like drowning anymore, and you could watch him without feeling like your heart was going to stop.

No, you just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened. Blame it all on a fever dream, and move on with your life.

“It was nice to work with you,” you said. Your voice had returned to its normal tone, and you took in a steadying breath. “I’m going to treasure the memory.”

At that he looked at you. “So will I.”

You exchanged a long look. Filled with words unsaid, with possibilities that could have happened had you never left that morning, or had you come back before. Had he been waiting for you? Had he considered not getting back together with her if you were to come first? It was hard to tell, and yet it didn’t make you feel anything. No, the initial shock and hurt really had dwindled away, because you were even able to smile at him, a tight-lipped smile but one nonetheless.

Or maybe your coping mechanism had just come in clutch, pushing all emotions to the deep, dark depths of your heart.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

He slowly nodded. “You deserved it. You really did.” He seemed to consider it for a time, before he added, “You are an amazing artist. I’ll be on the lookout for what you release next”.

You chuckled. “We’ll see what I come up with.” You looked around, committing the setting to memory. Committing Min Yoongi to memory, him and his long hair and sad eyes.

“If you ever want to release the song, just let me know,” he said.

You weren’t sure that would ever happen, but if it could ease the remorse in his sad gaze then you would give it to him. “I will, I promise.”

He nodded once more, wetting his lips. “And if you ever need anything, I’m just a call away.”

A call and a world away. Min Yoongi wouldn’t be your comfort. Had probably never been comfort to you, you had just been blinded by the loneliness of your birthday.

“Right back at you,” you said, because it was the civilized thing to say. “I doubt I have anything that you might need though.” It was said like a joke, but it landed in deaf ears, because Yoongi just looked sadder.

“You would be surprised.”

Four words that you hated. That you found yourself to hate for a long time, after you left Min Yoongi’s place that night. Never looking back, not even as you walked outside, each step feeling like another crevice forming, until you were back to that same pathetic lonely self you had been before him.

You were going to need to pick your pieces up yourself, were you?

 *****

 Present day

                 Doing interviews still felt foreign. Strange, as if they were meant for someone else than you. Someone that existed a year ago, someone that was just a regular busker.

Not someone that had just sold out an entire concert venue. It still felt unreal, and you always thought you were going to wake up from the dream some day. Thing was, you only woke up to more comments, to more views on your videos.

All thanks to a certain BTS member you had been trying to forget. Three months ago, Min Yoongi had mentioned you in an interview. It had been uncalled for, out of nowhere really. He had been asked what inspired him with his music and he had said fellow artists. When the interviewer had pushed for names, it was yours that Yoongi had given, and Army had immediately jumped on the boat.

Until you were the talk of Korea as the new soloist that everyone needed to know. It was crazy, how your life had changed in just a few months. Now, people recognized you when you walked in the street, fans asked for your pictures. You didn’t know if you liked it, but it was a dream come true.

Your parents had called you, once. You hadn’t picked up, and they hadn’t tried again. You lived in blissful peace now, without the money problems you had had last year, without the fear that one day you would just lose it all. In truth, the fear still existed, but it was more distant. You were a rising star, and for now you didn’t think you had reached the top yet. No, you were still shooting up, and you were willing to work your ass off to make sure you wouldn’t fall back down.

You deserved the success you were having. Had worked blood and sweat to get that success.

You hadn’t talked to Yoongi after. People had suggested collaborations, Armys had posted edits of you (of you?!) next to Min Yoongi all over the Internet. Videos of you busking had gotten millions of views, and Minhyuk was doing his best job to make sure to shut down any hate before it reached you.

You still saw some comments sometimes, but you didn’t really care. You couldn’t be liked by everyone, and that was just life. You had long accepted such a thing.

But yes, doing interviews felt strange. Especially as people tried to desiccate your past, to find every little truth there was to know about you. You were good at keeping most of the truth to yourself, just giving them little snippets of your life here and there to make the fans feel like they knew you.

You were pretty sure none of them knew your loneliness though. Loneliness that was a lot more bearable now that you weren’t struggling with money anymore, come to think of it.

The questions you hated the most were those about Yoongi. And you got a lot of them, especially from male interviewers. They tended to ask questions that were a lot more sexist than their female counterparts, who usually focused on your work instead of on your life. But the male interviewers came with the rest, and even if you had asked Minhyuk to try and filter most of them out, you still had to answer some questions once in a while.

That was how you found yourself on a talk show you had only watched behind the screen of your computer before, sitting across a famous host that had been asking increasingly more personal questions as the hour that you were to spend with him slowly passed.

It was awkward, yet you tried to be your most friendly self, to smile when you were supposed to and to laugh politely whenever he made a joke you personally thought to be degrading. You were relieved when he finally concluded the interview, and you dipped behind the scene as soon as you were allowed, heading straight to the refreshment table.

You were gulping down a water bottle when a familiar figure moved out of the hallway leading to the dressing rooms. Minhyuk sported a toothy grin, and he stopped next to you as you finished the water.

“You were fantastic,” he complimented you. “How can you be so good at this?”

He had asked that same question numerous times already, and you still didn’t have the answer for it. You had always been a huge introvert, yet whenever cameras shone their light on you, you found courage in you to act and pretend to be at your most comfortable.

Only the people that knew you the best could see through the mask, and though Minhyuk knew, he still was amazed that you could just do it like that.

You shrugged, winking at him as you put the water bottle away in a recycling bin. “I don’t know.” You sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the host of the show. He was walking towards you, and you immediately hated the look on his face as he beelined towards you.

He stopped a little too close for comfort, with a placid smile on his lips that felt wrong.

“You’re good at avoiding juicy questions, aren’t you?” It was said like a joke and his eyes even sparkled as he let out a small laugh.

Immediately, you let the camera-adequate you take the lead, and you echoed his laugh. “I want my personal life to stay personal,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

The host nodded, glancing at Minhyuk as your manager moved next to you. “But seriously, how did Min Yoongi come to know you? I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

You pursed your lips, the perfect picture of indifference, even though Yoongi’s mention still felt a little strange. “Honestly, I don’t know. I am very flattered that he likes my music enough to say he’s inspired by it.”

The host looked at you suspiciously, as if he was trying to read between the lines, between the words you had said to find the truth about you and Min Yoongi.

You didn’t think anyone but you and Yoongi really knew the truth. Even Minhyuk didn’t know everything, and he was your manager.

“When’s the collab going to drop?” the host continued. “Surely you must be working on something.”

You shrugged. “I can’t say we are planning to release something together, unfortunately. We’ve never worked on anything together.” An easily crafted lie, that you had said so many times in the last three months that you almost believed it now.

You had yet to listen to the song you had made together. Had buried the file away in your computer, somewhere you had tried to forget as best as you could. It hadn’t really worked, especially not now that Yoongi was mentioned to you almost daily.

“That’s a shame, I’m pretty sure lots of people would love to see such a collab,” the host said pensively. He then offered you a smile he probably thought was kind, but mostly looked paternalistic. “You should try to get him to collab with you, it’d give you a lot of visibility.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t need visibility, but it was a lie. Well, maybe not anymore, because Yoongi had already given it to you.

You wondered what had brought him to mention you. What journey his mind might have taken to lead to you, when he knew damn well what had happened with you was unprofessional. Maybe it was his way of apologizing, of giving you the little something that he could even though you hadn’t contacted him about the song. Maybe he even believed it would make you change your mind about the song, but that was unlikely.

Not when it could make people say that you were only using Yoongi for clout. No, you wanted your success to be all yours now that he had opened the door for you. It wasn’t like you had asked him to, so it wasn’t using him, right?

Minhyuk’s phone started ringing, taking you out of your reverie, and he stepped away to answer the call. He got lots of calls now, and every day it seemed like there was more. More that people wanted to know, wanted to see or wanted to hear.

It was unlikely that it’d stop someday. But it was okay. Being in constant motion kept you from feeling your usual loneliness. Made it lesser, smaller, until it was so easily ignored you almost thought it was absent.

The host dug his phone out of his pocket, and you watched as his eyes skimmed the screen, before looking at you with a delighted smile. You furrowed your brows, but you didn’t have time to say anything before Minhyuk let out a cheer as he jogged back to you.

“You are never going to believe this!”

You looked at him with a slightly widened gaze, glancing at the host once. “What?”

“You’ve been nominated as rookie of the year for MAMA.”

Your mouth fell open, quite at the same time as your heart stopped beating in your chest. “What?”

Minhyuk nodded quickly, and he pulled you into a crushing hug. “Look at you! I knew you were going to make it.”

You laughed, pushing on his chest so he’d release you from his hold. “Are you sure?”

You couldn’t really believe it. It didn’t make sense to you, and all you could do was meet Minhyuk’s gaze as his eyes filled with proud tears.

“He’s right,” the host said. He raised his phone, showing the screen to you. Sure enough, you read the article that had just come out, and your name was the first thing that caught your attention. Then everything blurred behind a wall of unexpected tears, and you let out a disbelieved laugh.

“How?”

Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders, smiling fondly. “Because you’re the best at what you do?”

Both of you knew you had Min Yoongi to thank for that. Hell, without him mentioning you three months ago you would probably have given up on making music all together. But no, he mentioned you, and you skyrocketed, your music even making it to the radio.

It was unbelievable, and it seemed new heights could be reached. Because MAMA was a lot of visibility, and publicity too. A room, full of other artists, and you were one of the nominees? It truly was a dream, wasn’t it?

You could only thank your lucky star for it, though you’d never go to the extent of thanking Min Yoongi, would you?

 *****

                 You had been hesitating for a few hours now. Watching your phone, reading Yoongi’s contact on the screen, and then shutting off the device to focus on the lyrics you were currently writing. It was hard to focus – your mind just kept going back to Min Yoongi.

You didn’t know if you wanted to thank him. To tell him this was all thanks to him. It felt too real, like acknowledging it would take your success away. And you couldn’t lose it – it was one of the last things you had.

Your mother had tried to call you, the day after you learned that you were nominated as rookie of the year. You had sent her straight to voicemail, like you’d been doing for a while anyway. You deleted the voicemail without listening to it, uncaring of what she would have to say to you.

Nothing would ever make you want to have her in your life again, in any way whatsoever. She was dead to you, and you wanted it to stay that way.

You sighed, and your eyes fell to the paper you were writing on. Your handwriting looked more like scribbles, and you had doodled some flowers at the top of the page, as if they’d help you find some inspiration. Needless to say, they hadn’t, as your thoughts always trailed back to Yoongi.

You looked at the two lines you had already written. The only two lines your brain had been able to come up with in the last three hours since you’d sat down.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to a city

You didn’t like it. Something about the two lines didn’t work together, and you decided to strike through the last word. Because what city was it supposed to represent? Seoul? You’d been in Seoul for so long it didn’t seem quite right anymore. Unless the city represented something else entirely. Perhaps a dream?

You sighed once more, replacing the word city with dream.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to a dream

You already liked it more. You replaced the ‘a’ in front of ‘dream’ to ‘my’ before humming it out loud. You knew you’d still have to tweak it a little, but already the next lines started forming in your head.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to my dream

Bright light and Heaven’s door

I knock and scream at them to open

In a world where no one knows my name

I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs

You’d think they’d ring true and high

But I think they’re the devil in disguise

They push me out and in the mud

I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me

In the land where no one knows my name

I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away

They say one day I’ll understand

But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay

It always hit you like that. Once the inspiration found you, you couldn’t really stop. You had to put the words on paper, ink staining your hand as you barely let it dry. You wrote quickly, eyes not blinking, brain entirely zeroing in on the spot where the tip of your pen kissed the paper, tracing the curves of the words you were ingraining.

It was an exciting feeling. Because yes, you felt like your success was all you had left, but it was a lie. Because even without your success, you’d still have this. Your pen against the paper, the flow of words spilling out of you like an overflowing glass, nothing but you and the lyrics.

It was your home when you were younger, and you knew it would always be your home. Music, that is, and the lyrics that found their way out of the confines of your skull.

You reread the verse, smiling to yourself. You knew it would likely change a little by the time you’d consider the song ready, but for a first draft you really did like the sound of it.

Especially considering it had helped you escape the will to contact Min Yoongi.

Your eyes slid to the window of your apartment. The sun was setting outside, coloring the world in shades of gold that made it feel like you could conquer it, if you so wanted. You felt infinite then, as if the start and the end happened all at once, and never at the same time. Like there was just this moment, right now, and nothing else, but also everything else. Every little moment, stretching into infinity.

It was a recurring feeling to you, whenever you found your inspiration, like it was some old friend coming home.

Once the sun was fully set, dusk settling on the world outside, you focused back on your apartment. You had to cook dinner soon, but somehow the idea of it exhausted you. Perhaps because you had used a lot of brain power on the song, and now you just wanted to rest. You figured ordering some food tonight would be okay, and you ordered fried chicken as you moved to your couch. You turned on the TV, moving to a channel that played some drama you’ve been invested in, and you watched the show for a while, up until the fried chicken was delivered.

You were on your way back up to your apartment when your phone lit up in your hand, and you almost threw it across the hall when you saw the name on the screen.

It made no sense. Like you had summoned him from the depths of your skull. Like you had passed the itch to call to him, and unlike you he hadn’t been able to resist the urge.

You picked up the call, hands shaking lightly, as you neared your apartment door.

“Hello?”

There was a short silence, and then the unmistakable deep voice of Min Yoongi filled your ears. “Hey, Y/n.”

Your throat felt dry, a lump keeping you from swallowing properly. It indeed made you gulp, and you could only hope that he hadn’t heard.

“How have you been doing?” he asked.

You stopped in front of your door, putting the fried chicken down long enough so you could dial your password and push the door open. “I’ve been great,” you replied truthfully, because there was no use to lie to him.

You still were lonely, but it was easier now.

“I’m glad,” he pensively said. It took him a while to speak again, but once he did he said, “I wanted to congratulate you for being nominated as rookie of the year.”

You blushed, immediately embarrassed, even though you were walking in your apartment and no one could see you. You put the fried chicken down on the counter, and then headed to a cupboard to grab a plate.

“Thank you,” you told him. “I think it’s… because of you.”

He chuckled, deeply, and the sound brought you right back to that night you had spent in his bed. Your blush turned furious, and you gulped once.

“You’re getting the success you deserve, as an artist. It’s all you.”

“Right. No one would know about me if you hadn’t mentioned me that one time.”

You heard him sigh, and regretted how your words had come out aggressive. “I just told the truth.” He paused, and you could almost hear his brain work as he figured his next words carefully. “Your music does inspire me.”

“Seonbaenim…” you trailed off.

“Ah, no need to call me that anymore,” he gently said. “We’re equals now.”

You doubted you’d ever be his equal, but you still let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

Another awkward silence followed, as you put your plate down on the coffee table in your living room. You had gotten a nicer apartment once the money had started to come in, which meant you finally had more than just one room – an improvement that you still were struggling to wrap your head around.

You went back to the kitchen to grab the fried chicken, and then you settled on the floor, next to the coffee table.

“I was wondering…” Yoongi finally said, and you almost startled at the sound of his voice, as if you had forgotten he was on the other side of the line. “Would you like to… grab dinner one of these days? To celebrate your nomination.”

“Dinner? Us two?

He chuckled once more. “Now that I’m thinking of it, it might be coming out of nowhere to you.” He laughed, and you wondered if he was blushing just as furiously as you were.

Because you weren’t expecting him to want to see you again. It made you think of his girlfriend, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were still together, or if they were broken up now. You didn’t think he’d suggest dinner if they were still dating, but it was hard to tell.

Maybe that was his way of making things professional with you again, because he wanted to release the song.

“Is it…” you trailed off, struggling to find the words. “Is it to discuss the song?”

You were pretty sure you could hear him gulp. “Ah, nah, the song doesn’t matter. I’m not going to force you to release it, not when you’ve made it clear you’re not interested. I just thought… you deserve to celebrate?” He paused, just long enough to collect his thoughts before he continued. “Unless you’re already celebrating? You have a manager, right?”

You didn’t think you had ever heard Yoongi string so many words one after the other before, except when he was rapping or singing. It made you laugh anxiously once more, though you reckoned the anxiety was slowly dwindling to nothingness.

“I do,” you answered. “But I’m not celebrating with him. We’ve never really hung out outside of work stuff before.”

“That could be considered as an important work event, no?” Yoongi pointed out. “Your first nomination… it always means a lot.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, eyes reading the words on the unopened box of fried chicken again and again. “It does,” you admitted, voicing it for the first time. “I…” Your eyes filled with tears, and you took a deep, steadying breath. “I still can’t believe it.”

His voice was kind when he spoke again. “It’s hard to believe it at first,” he said, gently. “That’s why you deserve to celebrate.”

“But why… Why with you? We’re not even friends. Barely work acquaintances at best, especially after…”

You didn’t finish your sentence, and it seemed it had stunned Yoongi into silence, because he didn’t say anything. Didn’t reply, and for a moment you imagined that he had hung up. But he hadn’t, so you waited patiently.

“I have to admit,” Yoongi said, his voice infinitely small. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry for how things went between us. I guess I’m trying to make amends? And I really want to make sure you celebrate this nomination the right way.”

“Isn’t that weird though, considering what happened?”

He pondered for a time. “Maybe. It’s only weird if we let it be weird.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you still didn’t know why he wanted to be the one celebrating with you. You barely knew each other, outside of the song you had worked on and that night you had slept together. He didn’t know about what you did for fun, about what you liked and disliked. Could only imagine what your relationship with your family was, if he listened to the song closely. Yes, he could relate to your love for music, as he had the same one, but he still didn’t know you.

Had that night with you mattered to him, too? Had he felt comfort when he was by your side, in the soft sheets of his bed?

“Right,” you let out. “I just… I don’t know. What about your…”

“Oh.” He paused, sighing. “We broke up months ago.”

Your eyes widened, the revelation giving you hope that you hated. You weren’t sure you were supposed to be hopeful right now. But he still had called you, right? Still wanted to celebrate with you, no?

“Oh,” you echoed. “I’m sorry.”

“It was my decision,” he admitted. “You made me realize some stuff… but I’d rather talk about it in person?”

So that was the reason why he wanted to see you after all. And somehow, it made your initial reticence disappear, until you found yourself saying, “Sure. I think that could be a good idea.”

You could hear the relief in his voice as he spoke. “Great! Would you want to come over? I could cook you a nice meal.”

You smiled, softly. “You want to cook me a meal? We could just go to a restaurant and…”

But you couldn’t, right? People could recognize you, paparazzi could take pictures of you, rumours could blossom left and right.

“You know what?” you added before he could say something. “Yes, I’d like to come over. I’ll find a nice bottle to drink?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “Are you available sometime this week?”

As you scheduled your dinner with Min Yoongi, you wondered if he could hear the wild beats he had ignited in your chest. You wondered if he could hear the hope in your voice, hope that you tried to push away. Because the last time you had been hopeful, you had ended up hurt, badly. Way more than you had been before he had come into your life. You didn’t want to give him this power over you once more, and so you promised yourself one thing, and one thing only.

You would only be friends with him this time around. Nothing more. Because your self-preservation came first.

 *****

                 Yoongi didn’t move, in the few months you didn’t talk to him. He still lived at that same fancy building you had used to hate, yet now you lived in a similar one. Not quite as expensive, and your apartment didn’t lay on two stories like his condo did, but making your way to his place wasn’t quite as anxiety-inducing as it had been then.

You had told Minhyuk that you were going to visit Min Yoongi. It felt like you needed him to know, now that you were famous enough to get recognized. Not enough for the receptionist to let you pass though. Indeed, the lady stopped you as you were walking in, clutching an expensive bottle of wine in your clammy hands.

“Excuse me,” she said, and your eyes widened as you turned to look at her.

You stopped in your tracks, and your heart picked up its pace in your chest. “Yes?”

“You don’t live here.”

The sudden will to reply ‘Obviously’ almost made you blurt it out, but you swallowed the word like a lump in your throat, glancing towards the elevator.

“I’m visiting a friend,” you told her, though you hesitated on the last word.

Because Min Yoongi wasn’t really a friend. Yet at least. And you reckoned you had no idea if he’d be one someday, especially after what had happened a few months back. You had been hopeful since your call on the phone, but ever since this morning you rather felt anxious, like you were about to be swallowed up by the ground never to be seen again.

Still, you stood strong, head up high as the lady eyed you up and down.

“And who is that?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked as she clearly didn’t believe you.

It might have been your fault. You had decided not to wear too expensive clothes, because you still weren’t used to even having some. Indeed, you had been receiving designer clothes by a couple of different brands, but you had yet to sign with one, feeling a little too overwhelmed from it. You had never been big on fashion after all, and if it wasn’t for Minhyuk’s suggestions, you were pretty sure you would have had more than one faux pas so far.

“Uh,” you let out, and your eyes dropped to the wine bottle. “Min Yoongi,” you revealed, and somehow you wondered if you just looked like a crazy fan.

Did it happen, sometimes? Did fans try to visit him, pretending they knew him?

The lady’s gaze narrowed as you looked up at her, trying to appear as convincing as you could. “He didn’t mention he had a friend coming over.”

Maybe you had grown lucky after all these years of bad luck. Maybe your stars had finally aligned, maybe the ocean’s waves were finally beating the shore in your favour. Because Min Yoongi stepped in from the outside world, hair ruffled by the wind, with a slight flush to his cheeks as if he’d been rushing home.

At the sight of the wine bottle in his hands, you assumed he was.

“Seonbaenim,” you instinctively said as a way of greeting, as your heart decided it was time to run wild.

He looked better than you remembered him to be. Healthier, as if the months had been good to him. And maybe they had been, the same way that they had been for you.

“I told you not to call me that,” he reminded you, after a few silent seconds of him just staring at you. “You can call me Yoongi.”

It was way too casual for you, so you just nodded your head as your cheeks burned.

Yoongi made his way towards you, nodding at the receptionist. You had half a thought of saying ‘told you so’, but you refrained, choosing peace over war. In truth, you weren’t quite sure you could speak right now, as your heart just kept rushing on and on as if it was running the last few miles of a marathon.

Silence was all that accompanied you and Min Yoongi on the elevator ride up to his condo, though once the doors slid open, he glanced at you. You wondered if it was blush dusting his cheeks or if the wind had been colder outside than what you had thought.

“How are you?” he asked, and as soon as your gaze met his, he looked away.

You gulped down the anxiety, before saying, “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Great.”

You followed him out of the elevator, all the way to his door before you managed to speak again. “You got some wine? I thought I was the one that was supposed to bring it.”

He chuckled, shyly. “Just trying to be a good host.” He dialed his code in, before pushing the door open. “After all, aren’t we supposed to be celebrating you tonight?”

You pursed your lips, walking in behind him. “Well,” you choked out, before gulping down another lump. “I wouldn’t have gotten nominated if it weren’t for you, as I said before.”

“Oh please,” he let out as he kicked his shoes off, and you quickly did the same. “How many times will I have to tell you that it was all you?”

You shrugged, and your eyes slid to the stairs, picturing him there all those months ago. It made your gaze drop to the ground, and the heaviness of his gaze on your profile told you that he had noticed.

“Was it?” you said, chuckling awkwardly as you tried to keep the atmosphere light. “It rather feels like it was all thanks to your interview.”

He shrugged it off, sliding his feet in a pair of slippers. “You can grab those slippers.”

Your eyes moved to a lonely pair closer to the door, and you nodded.

“I really was thinking of cooking something?” Yoongi said as you were putting on the slippers, and you wondered if he was purposefully ignoring what you had said. “I’m not big on take-out, but I do like to cook.”

You truly met his gaze for what felt like the first time tonight, even though it really wasn’t, and it felt like the whole world had slowed. Like the lights had dimmed, and the walls and art decorating them had gone out of focus. The only thing you could see was his soft gaze, and the way he had a small, shy smile on his lips. You were pretty sure you could count the lashes on his eyes, and it made you feel like you were falling forward, while simultaneously staying in place. Like motion sickness, and you blinked a few times as your gaze dropped to the floor once more, too much of a coward to hold his.

“Sure, I’d love to cook,” you replied, worrying at your bottom lip. “I can help.”

At that, a true, bright smile moved on his features, and it made the room feel warmer, cozier. “Then let’s go cook, Y/n.”

The way he said your name had your insides go molten, and it took you a good few seconds before you actually managed to follow him as he walked towards the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself cooking with him, talking about everything and nothing with just a little bit of awkwardness clinging to the air. You didn’t think it was a bad thing – it was only normal after the months and what had happened. After all, even then you hadn’t been particularly close to him. Yes, that night, he had been comfort personified, but you rather thought that It was only because you had no comfort in your life then. Nothing to cling to to make you want to get up day after day.

One full glass of wine later, as food was sizzling in a pan on the oven, Yoongi leaned against the counter, looking at you. You felt shy under his gaze, and you busied yourself by refilling the glasses. It didn’t help, as it forced you to step closer to him, but at least it occupied the silence for a time.

“How have you been adjusting to this?” he asked, motioning around him.

You were aware he wasn’t talking about his kitchen, but rather about your new life. It made you ponder for a time, because you thought you were adjusting well, though you weren’t quite sure if it was just an act. It was still too early to tell, and you didn’t have it in you to lie to Min Yoongi.

“Honestly,” you let out, slowly, as your eyes got lost in the rich colour of the wine. “It’s been easy, so far. But I don’t even know if it’ll last? And each time I do an interview, or talk in front of people, it just feels like someone else takes over. I’m not even sure it’s me.”

He remained silent for a while, making you feel as if you blurting out your truth was a little too real for the relationship you currently had with him – which was none, you reckoned. You saw him take a sip of wine from the corner of your eyes, and it took him a moment before he swallowed. Once he did, he finally spoke up, making relief flood through you.

“I understand,” he said. “More than you can imagine. I’ve felt this way since I debuted with Bangtan all those years ago. Struggled with it a lot if I’m honest.”

You worried at your lip, slowly nodding your head. “And how have you adjusted?”

He smiled, softly. “All thanks to the members. They supported me when things got rough. Made sure I was never alone, and helped me to be comfortable with my public persona.”

You could taste the slight tang of jealousy on your tongue, yet you pushed it away, ignored it as best as you could. “I can imagine. It must have been… great, to have all of them around as you climbed the ladder to success.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tilting his head to the side. “That’s… why I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone in this?”

He looked startled, for a few seconds, eyes a little wide as his mouth fell open. He had a line of red wine drying on his lips, and your gaze focused on it as your brain took the words in, spinning them around until they made no sense whatsoever.

“I…” you trailed off. “Why?”

He sighed, probably realizing that he had been too upfront. “No one should be alone in this,” he carefully said, and he turned away from you to check the food on the stove.

It smelled delicious, but he must have deemed it wasn’t ready, because he put the lid back on the pan and faced you again.

“And I know… I know we shouldn’t be talking about the song,” he continued. “But I also heard your lyrics.”

Lyrics of loneliness and despair you had spat in his mic that day you had come to record. On your birthday, the epitome of loneliness every year.

“You did,” you said, shying from his gaze once more. You took a sip of the wine, let it roll on your tongue, and then you spoke again. “It hasn’t been as bad as before,” you admitted, carefully. “It doesn’t feel as lonely as before. I think it’s because I’m not struggling with everything else anymore. Like… financially, and all that. I used to not even know when my next meal was going to be, and now I can always order or cook if I have time for groceries.”          

The kind smile on Yoongi’s lips felt like the warm rays of a spring sun, and you couldn’t help the shy smile that grew on your own lips. “It does help,” he said. He glanced at the food, before settling his gaze back on you. “I bet you’ve been feeling like you are running out of time, though.”

“Gosh,” you let out, and you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. It feels like I always have schedules to do, and whenever I don’t I feel bad if I’m not working on new lyrics.”

“I totally get that.”

There was a silence, only interrupted by an alarm Yoongi had set for the rice cooker. He turned it off, and then his gaze slid to his kitchen table that still stood empty where it was a couple of meters away.

“Let me set the table,” he told you, not meeting your gaze, and then you spent the next few minutes watching him do so, feeling a little awkward in your spot in the kitchen. It was lessened when Yoongi put some music on, some chill beats that wouldn’t make the conversation hard.

“Thank you,” you told him when he moved back to the kitchen to check the food. “I could have helped.”

“No,” he said, reassuringly. “I told you, we’re celebrating you tonight. You already helped with cutting the vegetables.”

If someone could call your poor attempt at cutting the onions as help, then you would take the compliment. “Right,” you let out, laughing lightly.

And for the first time tonight it didn’t feel awkward or forced. It felt comfortable, as if watching Yoongi set the table, in the mundanity of the action, had brought back the comfort he radiated back then.

“Trust me,” he said, offering you a toothy grin.

It was surprising, and it did things to you that made your cheeks burn and your tongue ache for the taste of wine. So you took a long gulp, before moving to grab the bottle and place it on the table.

“Here, I’ve contributed,” you told him, and your nose was a little scrunched up, awkwardly so, when you looked at him again.

He laughed, a sound you reckoned you could get used to hearing, and then he started putting the food in bowls. “I don’t know what I would have done without your input.” He sounded sarcastic, teasing, and maybe, just maybe you really could be friends. “Thank you.”

“No problem, seonbaenim.” This time, you said the formal nickname teasingly, and he rolled his eyes, slightly shaking his head.

“You have to stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“Would you rather me calling you ahjussi?”

The way his smile fell to be replaced by a startled expression had you burst out a laugh that was nothing but feminine, one he joined after a few seconds.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asked, and you grinned at him as he carried the bowls to the table. “I see.”

The atmosphere shifted, after that. Conversation grew easier, not forced, and the exquisite taste of the food made you feel like maybe you could cook after all. You finished the first wine bottle as you ate, which you reckoned might have been a bad idea, because you were tipsy by the time Yoongi uncorked the second one, his cheeks having turned red from the few glasses he had already ingested.

“Are you sure we should be drinking that too?” you asked, and you giggled as he threw you a no-bullshit look.

“Celebrating, remember?” he replied. “We have to be getting drunk.”

“Just us two?”

His gaze widened slightly, and he put down the wine bottle. “Unless you don’t want to.”

You raised your glass, looking at the light over his kitchen island through it. “I do want to. Just feels like we should… not be stupid this time around, no?”

His features were somber when your gaze slid to him. “Right,” he said, slowly nodding. “I didn’t invite you over with any intentions, if that can reassure you.”

You were too tipsy for where the conversation was going, so you said, “I want to be your friend, Min Yoongi. Let’s not be professional this time. Let’s just be friends.”

His eyes lit up, slowly followed by a smile that took over his mouth in the most beautiful way. He looked heavenly, standing there, long hair behind his ears, pale, expensive Louis Vuitton sweater rolled on his forearms. He looked princely, like he had looked that night, and it made your gaze slide away.

For preservation, perhaps.

“I’d love to call you a friend,” he said, gently. “I’d really love to.”

You pursed your lips, steeling yourself for the glance you sent to him. “Then pour me some wine, Min Yoongi.”

He laughed, and soon enough he was back at the table next to you, talking about what growing up was for him. You could see the similarities in your past, and maybe that was why you had always been comfortable with him before. Because he really did understand where you were coming from, though he had been able to fix things with his family.

Which wasn’t something you ever wanted to do. You were content with not talking to them, and you were pretty sure that wouldn’t change. Especially not as the only reason why they were contacting you now was because they probably had heard about you on the television.

“I swear!” Yoongi said, slightly shaking his head, a long time after the conversation had shifted to anecdotes about his past and yours. “I’ve never seen anyone get so worked up about some bananas.”

You laughed, quickly followed by him. The retelling of a fight between Jungkook and Hoseok had you shedding a tear, and Yoongi watched you carefully as you dried it with the back of your hand.

“That is so stupid,” you commented.

He nodded wisely. “I know. But it’s been a long time. Jungkook-ie was mostly upset because it was a gift.”

You chuckled. “Bananas?”

“Yes.” Yoongi laughed, and then his eyes slid to your empty glass in front of you.

You were halfway through the second bottle, and the alcohol had been buzzing through your system. The scene had lost its focus around you, the wine fuzzing it up until all that was left were Yoongi’s pretty features. His cheeks had turned red a while ago, and you reckoned yours probably had too, sometime between your third and fourth glass. You didn’t really care – this Yoongi was comfortable, friendly. Something you had been needing more than you would have ever cared to admit – a friend.

You liked how easy it was, that friendship. And it really was, even in the days and weeks that followed you reconnecting with Yoongi. Like maybe that was what you had always been meant to be – friends, and nothing more.

He never talked to you about the song again. Never pressed you to listen to it, to release it, but if you were in his head you’d know that he was dying to drop it out of the blue, to have his fans know just what you felt, what he felt. Because the loneliness that had inhabited you when you had written your share of the lyrics was common to him, though it was growing less frequent now that you were in his life.

Min Yoongi really was comfort indeed.

 *****

             After weeks of talking once in a while, of hanging out even more rarely, with Yoongi’s and your busy schedule, MAMA arrived. You were anxious about it – it was your first award show after all. Yoongi was there in spirit to reassure you before, sending you an expensive whiskey bottle as a gift. He was getting ready with the members of BTS that were attending, which meant you weren’t going to see him before the ceremony. So all you did that day was prepare with a glam team hired by Minhyuk, and then you were driven to the venue where MAMA was held.

It was surreal, to sit in that venue. With the other artists, the whole scene of music that was Asia. You were sat next to Twice, a group you had never expected you’d see in real life. Sana and Jihyo congratulated you on your nomination, and you immediately went into camera mode, easy smile and bright eyes on display.

If you were honest, the camera mode was barely faked today. No, you rather were amazed by the scene, by the crowd and the buzzing of chatter and laughter. You awed at the sight of so many famous people, of Twice and Stray Kids and some groups you didn’t even know. You hadn’t realized you were part of it before today, and now you could see IU sitting on the other side of the venue, along with some people you didn’t recognize.

Imposter syndrome chose this moment to hit you. Out of nowhere, the way the first bolt of lightning strikes, even before the sound of thunder is heard. With clammy hands, you watched as the lights dimmed, and the crowd ushered until a spotlight shone on the animator of the evening. You barely could listen, barely could watch the groups performing. All you could think was that you were alone in this room, without anyone by your side.

Not even Minhyuk. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to – for some reason, he hadn’t received an invitation along with you. Something you didn’t quite understand, but didn’t really have anything to say about it. Because, after all, you were just a rising star, and rising stars tended to fall into darkness more often than not.

Why would you be any different?

You were starting to panic. You knew it, and yet you couldn’t help it. Sana must have noticed, because during a commercial break, she leaned closer to you.

“Hey,” she greeted you once more. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”

The whole of Twice turned towards you, and your eyes widened. “Uh,” you let out. “I don’t…”

But Jeongyeon was already extending a water bottle towards you, and you thanked her as you took it. Your hands shook a little as you uncapped it, but the first swig had the anxiety calm down, just enough for you to thank the girls again.

“It’s okay!” Sana reassured you. “We know how overwhelming this can be. Can’t imagine what it must be like for someone alone.”

You winced, glancing around. Your gaze stopped as it met Yoongi’s. He was not too far from IU, with the rest of the BTS members in attendance. You hadn’t noticed him before, perhaps because they had arrived late.

You had been so early you had been able to see everyone walking in.

Yoongi nodded his head at you, offering you a secretive smile. It grounded you in the present, and you finally felt the wave of panic recede, the way the ocean recedes at low tide. It calmed you down, and you found yourself able to actually enjoy the show from then on.

When it was time for the award for rookie of the year to be announced, anxiety returned to you. It wasn’t the same kind of anxiety – no, it was the kind that one anticipates, uses to push themselves forward. You leaned on the edge of your seat, almost imperceptibly, listening as they called out the names. Smiling shyly as they said your name, and the big screen shone with an image of you. You watched yourself, prettily sitting there, with your hair perfectly styled and makeup on fleek, feeling like you were watching someone else entirely. It was an out-of-body experience, somehow, especially as the camera you took over.

The crowd was silenced expectantly as the announcer opened the envelope, slowly. You thought you could hear the envelope tear. It was like it was echoing, on repeat like a song stuck in your head. All you could do was watch as they got the paper out, and when they said your name, loud and clear, your eyes widened as your lips parted slightly.

For an unknown reason, your head turned towards Sana first, and she offered you a bright smile as the room erupted into claps. You slowly got up, feeling thousands of eyes following your every move, and your own gaze slid to the other side of the room once more.

Yoongi was clapping, with the softest smile on his lips. It was a smile you rarely saw from him – it was fond, like you were the sun after a long night. He mouthed a congratulation, only meant for you – something personal, that you tucked in a safe corner of your heart. It made you stand straighter, and it guided you towards the scene as you walked to accept your award.

You bowed as you were handed the trophy, its weight surprisingly heavy as it landed in your hands, and you smiled widely as the announcer congratulated you. You thanked them, and then moved to the mic, letting the camera persona take over.

And take over she did, giving thanks to the people that helped you. You couldn’t resist but gaze towards Yoongi as you kept talking, and you had to bite your tongue not to thank him too. Because to you, it was thanks to him that you were standing there, in this spot. The winner of rookie of the year – a year ago, you were all but an unknown busker, barely getting by. And this year, you were shining in the light, rising towards the heavens.

An out-of-body experience indeed.

When it was done, you could barely remember anything. From the whole evening, if you were honest, as if it was too good to be true. You had been invited to an after-party, and on your way to it, after you had changed into a less formal attire, you found yourself coming back to your body.

You blinked once, twice, letting out a small, disbelieved laugh. The driver glanced at you, cocking an eyebrow in the rear-view mirror.

“Sorry,” you apologized, and then you let out another laugh. It sounded a little crazy, perhaps, but you didn’t care.

Your body was the vessel of a happiness it had never known before, and you were going to enjoy it. To drink it till the very last drop, because who knew when you’d feel like this again?

You got to the party, almost at the same time as another similar SUV. You smiled as you saw Sana and Jihyo come out, and they motioned for you to join them.

Another friendship you had never seen coming. But it blossomed easily, and they chatted and laughed and drank with you for a while. Long enough for you to forget that there was actually a reason why you had accepted the invitation to this after-party in the first place.

Min Yoongi was in attendance. And you thought you could feel the moment he walked into the place. As if the frantic energy lessened, somehow, and your eyes immediately searched for him. You saw Hoseok first, and he grinned as his gaze met yours, waving at you.

You waved back, which didn’t go unnoticed to Sana and Jihyo.

“You know Hobi-nim?” Jihyo asked, pretty mouth forming a pout. “So the rumors are true after all.”

You winced. “The rumors are out of mind but yes, I do know Hobi-nim.” You did, from Yoongi. You had only met him twice before though.

You didn’t mind Jihyo’s comment. Mostly because it was said so genuinely, so nicely, with no ounce of jealousy or any other negative emotion behind. You didn’t think she had it in her anyway. Neither did Sana, who just said, “Rumors are always out of mind. Don’t pay attention to them.”

Easier said than done, but you still nodded your head, before glancing towards Hoseok again. This time, you noticed Jungkook and Yoongi too, and the latter offered you that same secretive and fond smile he had offered you earlier. It made something in you constrict, and blush crept on your cheeks.

“You can go with them, if you want,” Jihyo told you, noticing the emotions on your face. “This is a safe place for us celebrities to mingle.”

Sana chuckled. “We like parties like this. Makes us feel a little more normal.”

“Do they happen often?” you enquired, and you broke eye contact with Yoongi to meet the girl’s gaze.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Unfortunately.” It was her turn to look towards Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook, and then she added, “Do go with them. Yoongi-nim is looking this way.”

This time, you turned fully beet red, but luckily enough the expensive foundation on your skin held, hiding your emotions. To Sana’s eyes, perhaps, but you were pretty sure Jihyo knew.

And knew what? You didn’t even know. Yoongi was a friend, nothing more, and you liked it that way. You liked that you could count him as a friend, because God knew you needed friends in your life.

“Well then, better go talk to him before he makes rumors spread,” you joked, and the two girls laughed.

Before you went, you exchanged numbers with them, promising that you could meet up in the following days, and then you were off to meet Min Yoongi, where he stood close to a wall on the other side of the room.

He didn’t like parties. That much you knew. He had only decided to go because he wanted to be there for you, whether the outcome of the evening was positive or not. And it was positive, the brightest thing that had ever happened to you. An evening built of the stuff that makes the sun shine – bright, ever-lasting. You clung to that feeling as you reached Yoongi’s side, and Hoseok and Jungkook dipped as soon as you appeared, leaving you alone with Yoongi.

“Congratulations,” he said, this time aloud.

It still felt personal, and you tilted your head to the side, offering him a smile. “I should congratulate you. It’s because of you.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You know it was all you. You have to stop saying it was me.”

“Right.” You narrowed your eyes, imperceptibly. “Of course I won rookie of the year because I was busking in Hongdae.”

“Come on,” he let out. “We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

“And we’ll go over it a thousand times more until you accept that it’s because of you.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Right. Then why don’t we get a drink to celebrate me? Since it’s all because of me.”

You laughed, eyes sliding to the bar. “Whiskey?”

“Champagne?”

“You like champagne?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. But if we are celebrating something that didn’t happen, then we should drink something we don’t like.”

You cocked your head to the side once more. “What makes you think I don’t like champagne?”

“Do you?”

Your silence was answer enough for Yoongi. You both laughed, and then he motioned towards the bar. “After you.”

You nodded, slowly, and then moved towards the alcohol, and towards your salvation, maybe. Because though Yoongi had always felt like comfort, right now he felt different. New, a little like you had felt that night months ago.

The night you were trying not to think about, whenever you hung out with him. You had never talked about his ex either, as if the subject was taboo. And perhaps it was if you wanted to maintain a friendship with Min Yoongi.

“We’ll take two whiskeys,” Yoongi said as you reached the bar, and you threw him an offended look.

“Whiskey? I thought we were going for champagne.”

“I’ll be damned if you catch me drinking champagne,” he muttered.

It was said so adorably you widened your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “Maybe you’re already damned,” you said, and you raised your hand so the barmaid noticed you. “Can you change that for champagne, please?”

She nodded, and you turned back towards a bewildered Yoongi. “You…”

He fell silent, and you cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

He only snorted, shaking his head slightly as his eyes fell to the floor. “Nothing.”

You moved a little closer, trying to meet his gaze. “Right.”

He rolled his eyes, gently pushing you away. It was familiar, more familiar than your usual friendship, but it felt fitting for the night and its brightness.

Your champagne arrived, and you looked down at the golden liquid as Yoongi handed you your glass. Your fingers barely even touched, yet you felt the warmth of a thousand suns crawling up your arm, slowly. You would have flinched had the feeling not been so pleasurable, especially as Yoongi looked at you again.

He looked at you differently. Like it was his first time seeing you after a long time. Like you were a flower he had forgotten, years ago, and was now only seeing again. It made your heart stop in your chest, before it started again on an erratic beat.

“Enjoy,” he said, and he clinked his glass with yours before downing his own.

Your gaze widened as he put the glass down on the bar, wincing slightly. “What was that for?”

“Your turn.”

“What?” you let out, and you laughed.

His eyes were different again, familiar, when they looked at you this time. The eyes of the friend you had grown to know in the last few weeks. “Finish it, so we can get some real alcohol.”

“I don’t want to chug.”

“Why not?”

You pursed your lips. “I don’t want to get too drunk tonight.”

He remained silent for a time, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Why not?”

Because. Because last time he had looked at you like this while you had been drinking had led to an unimaginable chaos, one you didn’t wish to revisit. No matter how comfortable he was, Yoongi was always going to just be a friend.

“I want to remember tonight,” you chose to say, carefully. “I’ve already forgotten most of the award show, I don’t want to forget the after-party too.”

He laughed, a clear sound that was meant just for your ears, in the loud music playing in the party. It was almost your first time noticing the beat since you had joined Yoongi, as if you had joined him in a pocket outside of this room.

Crashing back to reality had you look down at your glass. And then you knocked it back, chugging it in a few long sips as Yoongi watched you with a widened gaze.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said as you put it down. “Let’s get you some water.”

“Why?” you asked. “Why do you care if I remember or not?”

Your tone had changed. He noticed it right away, and he stilled in front of you, turning to stone. “Because you’re my friend?” he answered carefully. “If you want to remember, then the good friendly thing to do is make sure you do.”

The way he said that sentence, with that low voice of his, the one that only came out when he was in private, or perhaps when he was tired… it did things to you. Made you look at him as if the light was shining differently on him.

Differently, yes, but all the same too. Shining like that night months ago, and if you weren’t in public you think you would have grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.

A terrifying thought if you had ever seen one, and it made you glance around. “Should we… go somewhere else?”

It wasn’t what you had meant to ask. It was threading dangerous territory, a slope that could only lead to mistakes again. To unprofessionalism, though this time your relationship with him wasn’t professional.

You were giving yourself whiplash. All the months, of fame and newfound friendship, were giving you whiplash. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.

“You don’t like the party?” he asked.

You met his gaze. “I know you don’t. We don’t have to stay.”

His lips parted slightly, and your eyes fell to them, admiring their pinkish tint. “What would there be for you to remember, then?”

You.

You didn’t say it, only shrugged your shoulders. “I already partied before you got here. Do you know that Sana and Jihyo are the sweetest girls?”

He smiled, softly. “Are they? I’ve never really spoken to them.”

You wet your lip, eyes sliding to the empty champagne glasses on the bar, almost at the same time as they were picked up to be put away. “Yeah. And honestly, I don’t do parties all that much either.” You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, only then noticing that your hands were shaking slightly. “I only came because you were going to be here.”

“Did you?” he asked.

He sounded like he didn’t believe you, like you were supposed to be enjoying the scene around you. And you were, you really were, but the light was shining on something else entirely now, a treasure you wanted to find, like it was but the red cross on a treasure map.

You didn’t know if it existed, but tonight you wanted to believe that it did.

“Yes, I did,” you replied truthfully.

He chuckled. “And I only came here because you were coming.”

You smiled, knowingly. “So, should we go?”

 *****

                The city lied beneath your feet. An ocean of twinkling lights, out of reach. Like jewels shining in the night, never-ending. You felt small, standing atop the building, and your breath froze in the air, curling up to reach the clouds above.

“It’s cold,” Yoongi stated, and you glanced at him.

His hands were buried deep in his coat pockets, and he was visibly trying to hide his face in the collar. You smiled at him, shivering in a soft breeze.

“The cold is sobering,” you replied, eyes trailing back to the city. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Yoongi took a few steps forward, until he was standing next to you. He contemplated the view, and to your surprise he tilted his head back to look at the clouds.

“The sky looks like it’s on fire,” he commented.

You imitated the position, your eyes trailing to the sky. Indeed, the clouds were shining orange, reflecting the neon lights of the city below. “It does,” you agreed. “Would make for good song lyrics.”

He chuckled. “You never stop thinking about music, do you?”

“I don’t.” You paused, and the feeling of his heavy gaze on your profile had you look at him. “Do you?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, slightly. “Sometimes, I think it’s a gift. Other times, it feels like it’s a curse.”

Understandable. Because if the grind never stopped, then neither could you.

“I’ve started writing a new song,” you revealed, as it felt fitting in the moment. Your eyes trailed back to the city below, and you wondered if this city, this collection of shimmering lights, was what you were referring to in your lyrics. If it was the dream you were writing about. “Why is it that most of my songs are sad or angry?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything for a long time. Only contemplated the city in a pensive silence. Wind lapped at his coat, at your hair, and you shivered again. Your own coat was tightly wrapped around you, but it did nothing to keep the cold at bay.

“Are you sad and angry?” he asked.

You pondered for a time. “It’s hard to let go of emotions that have been integral parts of your life for so long.”

To your surprise, he stepped closer to you. Maybe because it was cold, and your bodies gave off heat, just enough for you to be attracted to each other. Like your gravity sucked him in, and soon enough his arm was pressed against yours.

“The letting go is the hardest part,” he admitted. “Because it’s a comfort zone. But once you allow yourself to feel… it’s a whole new world.”

“How did you do it?”

He sighed, and his eyes dropped to the ground beneath your feet, no longer admiring the city. “I’d say it’s Hoba, that helped me the most. But all of them. They showed me that there’s more to life than anger and sadness.”

“Your music still carries it, though,” you pointed out.

“It does.” Head hung low, Min Yoongi looked the perfect example of defeat. Like he’d run a race, reached the end only to realize he was going in the wrong direction. “The emotions still exist. I still experience them sometimes. And…” he trailed off, looking in the distance. “It’s what my fans want of me. They don’t expect me to release soft music all that much.”

“So, you’re doing it for the fans?”

He smiled, softly. “I love my fans. I’d be nothing without them.”

A year ago you would have been deadly jealous but now, now you had fans of your own. You could understand him.

“They love you too,” you reminded him. “They’d still love you if you released different music.”

He shrugged. “I have an album coming soon. It’s different.”

“Is it?”

A car honked in the world far below. “It is. I can send it to you, if you want to listen.”

“I’d love to.”

He met your gaze, and for a moment it was as if winter had ceded its place to summer, and warmth blossomed inside of you. “As long as you let me read your lyrics.”

You winced, chuckling lightly. “Maybe when the song is ready.”

He faced you, extending a hand in the air between you. “Deal.”

You grabbed his fingers, gently. They were cold, terribly so, and you felt bad for forcing him to be out here. “Deal,” you agreed, shaking his hand.

His thumb moved on the back of your hand, slowly, drawing a strange pattern. Current flew through your bloodstream, and you shivered once more, for a completely different reason this time.

Your brain chose this moment to remind you of that night, months ago, when you had gone to his place wanting to tell him how he had made you feel. When you had seen him with his ex, with his girlfriend. When you had realized he had chosen her, though he had never really known you were an option, had he?

You let go of his hand, albeit reluctantly, but you remained facing him.

“You never told me…” you started, but didn’t know if you should finish. Mostly because you didn’t think it was a good idea to ask, not when the evening still shone like a thousand stars. Especially now that Yoongi was looking at you again, with that fond glimmer in the depths of his eyes.

“What?” he asked after a few seconds, voice small in the infinity of the world.

“You never told me why you broke up with your girlfriend, in the end.”

If the world could stop breathing, you were pretty sure it did, in that instant. It held its breath, as you watched Min Yoongi carefully.

“She cheated on me, before I met you,” he revealed, flatly. “Claiming I was too absent. I took her back when she came back… because I felt lonely. Realized she was the source of the loneliness and broke up for good.”

You held his gaze, hoping yours held nothing of how you felt. Because you felt a lot, as the truth reached your ears. You ached for him, ached at knowing that he had felt like that back then. But you ached for yourself too, because what else had he been pursuing with you other than the company she couldn’t give him?

You had just been in the right place at the right moment. Something that he had been able to use for comfort. The way you had sought his comfort, perhaps.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a while. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

His eyes were unreadable, but his cheeks were tinged red with the cold. He looked pretty, angelic, in front of you. With the burning clouds overhead, you’d almost think he was a fallen angel.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, his voice low once more. Intimate, just for you. “I never should have let her back in.”

“Why?” you asked, and your throat suddenly felt dry. You tried to swallow, but a lump made you gulp.

“Why did you actually come to me, that night?” he asked. “Not when we recorded the song. After we…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was referring to.

He was referring to the night you had believed you could confess to him how you had felt. To that night, where hope turned to decay, and all you could do was let go of comfort. All you could do was go back to the sad discomfort that was your life.

“I…” You bit your lip, pulling on some dry skin. “I wanted to tell you what it had meant for me? When we slept together.”

He gulped. You could visibly see it, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “And what did it mean?”

Your gaze dropped in the vague space between you. It felt infinitesimally immense right now, like he was an entire universe away. “We shouldn’t be speaking about that.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends now.” You met his gaze, surprised to find his pained. “Friends don’t speak about such things.”

“True friendship is when there’s no taboo subject, is it not?”

Min Yoongi and his wisdom would be the death of you.

“I guess it is,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to ruin this.”

He took a step closer to you. So close you could feel his warmth, even though the night was cold. “Why would it ruin anything?”

Your heart beat faster, in your chest. Reaching a speed unknown to it, one that left you breathless. “Because…”

Because what? You didn’t even know. You weren’t drunk, at least not on alcohol. But you sure were drunk on the aftertaste of winning the award, of being right here with him on top of this building as if you were standing in your own pocket in this world. A little like it felt down at the party, but so much more. So much so that you pictured yourself leaning in, falling into his orbit.

“I don’t think it’d ruin anything,” he said, voice so low you really felt yourself leaning in. “I was there that night. I know how it felt.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I told you I didn’t do regret, right?” he asked, question seemingly out of the blue.

“You did.”

“I regretted what I did to you, for the longest time. Thought I deserved to be lonely. So it wasn’t just because of her, that I broke up. It was because of you too. I regret going back to her in the first place.”

Softly, like a feather falling or snow dancing in the wind, your heartbeat found a steady rhythm once more.

“You shouldn’t have regretted,” you said, and you surprised both of you as your hand reached between you, and you cupped his cheek. “I don’t think we would have worked, then.”

“Why?”

“We were too different.” You chuckled, infinitely sadly. “We still are, aren’t we?”

“We’re not different in the ways that matter,” he pointed out.

And when he leaned forward, you welcomed him in as one welcomes a lover home from the war. You let him press his chapped lips on yours, let his mouth move against yours in the slowest dance. As if he was afraid you’d pull away, but tonight you didn’t want to pull away.

It wasn’t about seeking comfort anymore. It really was about going home, to something that could be great.

You kissed Min Yoongi under the clouds, in the winter night. You kissed him with all the longing you had felt, though you had been trying to ignore it. It came back, far stronger now, and it made you grab at his collar so you could pull him closer. He sighed in the kiss, big hands finding your waist, holding you in place.

And when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, your breaths mingled, forming a single cloud that moved up towards the sky.

“See?” he murmured. “Nothing to be ruined.”

“Yoongi,” you breathed.

He said your name, and then pulled away, just enough for his eyes to flutter open. You looked at him too, and when your gazes met, you understood that it really had been supposed to happen this way all along. You hadn’t been supposed to be with him then. Because it was unprofessional, yes, but mostly because you would have always felt like you weren’t enough.

Hell, you didn’t know if you were enough right now, but you were already something more.

“Do you want to go in?” he asked after a moment of gazing at each other. “I’m starting to freeze.”

You laughed, the sound lighter than dust in the sun. “Yes.”

“I’d invite you to my hotel room but…” he trailed off, resting his forehead against yours again. “Let’s take this slow. Let’s wait until we’re back home.”

“We’re going home tomorrow.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s still slower than going at it tonight, no?”

“We can wait longer,” you said, and you were the one that pulled away this time around. Because you needed to look him in the eye when you said the next words. “If we’re going to really do this, I want to do it the right way.”

His smile shed warmth and light on every dark spot of your soul, until you were shining from within. “Works for me.”

 *****

               Dating Min Yoongi felt strange. Unreal, like it was a dream come true. Like you were walking the land of dreams, and really you wished you wouldn’t have to wake up. You didn’t think you would – he pulled through every day. Met you in the middle, in the places that mattered most. He supported you as an artist, and supported you as a person too.

But for some reason, you hadn’t been able to fully give yourself to him yet. You had only been going on dates, never sleeping over, never sleeping together. And if he minded, he never said it.

The holidays came, and Yoongi invited you to a party hosted by Jeong Hoseok. All the other members were in attendance too, except Kim Taehyung, who apparently was away in Daegu for the week. Some of the members also had their partners with them – in truth, everyone did, except Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Jeong Hoseok, though the latter had a friend over that seemed a little too comfortable with him for her to just be a friend.

The girlfriends were nice. Sweet, another group of friends you hadn’t expected to make. None of them treated you differently because you were somehow famous, probably because they were all dating people far more famous than you’d ever be. You got along with Hoseok’s friend the most, and you thought it was only because it was also her first time meeting everyone.

The party was fun. It was more of a dinner, with alcohol and food like a banquet for the gods. You ate so much you thought you couldn’t walk anymore after, yet you managed to make your way home with Yoongi.

Because this time, when he had asked you to sleep over, you hadn’t found it in you to refuse. Perhaps because it was the holidays, and the feeling of coziness and comfort that the days oozed had you wanting to drown in his familiarity.

If Yoongi noticed the switch in you, he didn’t say. Ever so the patient man when it came to you.

You looked at him, during the drive home. His features shone softly, in the neon light of the streetlamps. It made his skin glow like honey, like amber. You reached between you, grazing your fingers on his cheek.

“What?” he asked, letting out a small chuckle. “Have they made you drink too much?”

You snorted, resting your head against your seat. “No.”

He spared a quick glance at you, before resuming his attention on the street in front of him, as he was the one driving the car. Indeed, for this private dinner you had all chosen to drive yourself, instead of asking for the company to drive you around.

“What’s up, then?”

You sighed, a little dreamily. “You’re pretty, Min Yoongi.”

It was hard to tell in this light, but you were pretty sure his cheeks had dusted with pink. “And then you say you haven’t drank too much?”

You laughed. “It’s just a compliment!”

“You don’t usually compliment me like this,” he pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong, but it felt fitting, tonight. Because you were staying over, maybe.

“Well, I should start doing it. You deserve it.”

He snorted. “You’re adorable.”

Now, it was your turn to blush, and your eyes trailed to the street in front of you.

“Am I?”

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers. “You sure are.”

When you got to his place, Yoongi parked his car in the underground parking lot. He forced you to stay in your seat while he walked around the car to hold the door open for you, and you swatted his arm as you got up.

“You know you don’t have to do this with me?”

“But I want to,” he said, pouting. “Can’t I do something for you once in a while?”

“You always do stuff for me.”

It was true. Whatever you needed Yoongi was always ready to provide, whether it was help with some lyrics or a hug.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do more,” he said as you stepped out of the car, standing next to him.

By instinct, you reached between you, one hand resting on his waist as you tilted your head back, slightly, enough to be looking up at him.

“Right,” you breathed, and your eyes moved to his lips as he wet them.

“What’s that look on your face?” he asked, voice low and husky.

You smirked, ever so slightly. “What look?”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to you, and the smirk disappeared. “So you want to be a brat?”

You hadn’t expected that of him. In truth, you didn’t really know how he was sexually, considering the only time you had had sex with him was when you were both drunk and vulnerable, trying to chase comfort in the other’s touch.

“Do you like that?” you asked, breathlessly.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, before pulling away to explore your features with that dark gaze of his. “I like whatever you like.”

“So if I tell you to get on your knees and eat me out you would?” you whispered, smirk moving back to your lips.

He had the decency to blush as he spared a careful look around. “Here?”

You pondered, tilting your head to the side to reveal the soft skin of your neck. “You think we can wait until we’re upstairs?”

“Anyone could see us.”

You looked around. “The garage is empty.”

He murmured your name, dangerously. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Then we shall die together.”

It was the last thing you said before he pressed his lips against yours, ravishing your mouth in a wet kiss that had you moan. His large hands found your sides, pulling you back against the car until you were stuck between it and him. His tongue toyed with yours, exploring your mouth until you were panting, feeling the start of his erection on your lower stomach.

He pulled away, just enough so he could move down and press warm kisses on your jaw. He then bent down a little more, reaching your shoulder, and he bit at the skin over the collar of your coat.

You breathed out his name, sensually, as your hands got lost in his long locks. It only enticed him further, and he grinded into you. It made you throw your head back, and this time he nipped at your neck, not so gently, eliciting another moan from you.

“Gosh, Yoongi,” you said, and he raised his head to look at you.

His pupils were blown wide in his eyes, clear indicators of his lust for you. They made his gaze look like a bottomless pit, one you jumped in right as you pulled him back into another kiss, sucking on his bottom lip.

You blindly reached for the knob of the car’s door, the one for the backseat behind you, and when you found it you pushed Yoongi away, just so you could open it. As you did so, he shut the passenger side door, and he followed you in as you lied on the backseat.

He hovered over you, hair falling around his face, and you pushed it away from his face, holding it in a ponytail-like grip. Some strands escaped the confines of your fist, softly cascading the sides of his face again.

Min Yoongi was a prince. A prince and an angel. A dream, something you had never thought you’d witness yourself in your entire life. And witness you did, with your eyes and every inch of your body that you knew he’d come to worship. Just like you worshipped him and the ground he walked on.

“What?” he murmured as you just kept carefully surveying him.

“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed, and you watched as his mouth fell open.

He had never been good at accepting compliments, even those coming from you.

He whispered your name like a lover’s caress. “So are you. You’ve been a vision, ever since the first time I saw you.”

You wet your lips. “The first time?”

“I was walking in Hongdae, with some company staff. Didn’t get recognized by some dumb twist of luck I’d say. But you were busking.” You thought you could see him gulp. Hear him, as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t walk away. Just kept looking at you, for so long the staff started getting worried. Because they didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. But gosh, you were so beautiful.” He chuckled, lowly. “It was like I had walked into a temple and seen a goddess.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, because you too weren’t good with compliments.

But he wasn’t done.

“And you sang. The voice of an angel, if I’m honest. I was entranced. Then I spent weeks trying to find you, making staff go to Hongdae to try and get your name. Because I needed to know you. Needed to know you weren’t just a construct of my imagination.”

He pecked your lips this time, as if he really needed to make sure you were real.

“When I started listening to your music, I recognized myself in the lyrics,” he admitted. “That’s why I approached you in the first place, and then I just…” He rested his forehead against yours, and your eyes fluttered shut. “I just needed to have you in my life. Any way whatsoever. I was stupid to stay with Yejun, because I think I already knew then that I was going to fall in love with you.”

You repeated his name, like he was a melody. And to you he was. He was your melody, the music that made your soul dance. The muse to your mind, and the song to your heart. “We all are stupid sometimes.”

He chuckled. “I’m relieved the months have led me to you after all. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“You do.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, trying to bring him closer. “You deserve everything in this world.”

The following kiss was slow. Languid, as if he needed to trace his love into you, using his lips to build you anew. It was beauty personified, comfort revived. Everything in you went steady, and then sang to the melody he carried, the one you carried together.

When he pulled away from the kiss to look at you with his dark eyes, cheeks flushed from the ministrations, you read the desire on his features, like one would read a sheet music. Unsure at first, focusing, until the language of music took over you.

At least, that was how it worked for you.

“I want you,” you breathed in the space between you, and he nodded.

“I know.” He laughed, looking around. “You made me get in this car for that reason, didn’t you?”

You barely remembered. All you knew was that you never wanted to exit the safety of this nest, with him. Of his embrace, and of the fondness and desire in his eyes. Whatever song passion was about to have you dance to, you were ready to jump in, feet first and soul open.

“Eat me out,” you breathlessly begged, and his pink lips parted slightly.

“I’m no contortionist,” he joked, unexpectedly. “Can you move up?”

You laughed, slightly pushing him so he knelt between your legs. “You’re annoying. Yes I can.”

He offered you his secretive smile, and then his hands deftly discarded you of your coat. He took his off too, throwing both on the passenger seat. “Then what are you waiting for?”

You bit your lip, a mischievous glint igniting in your eyes. “I think you should work for it.”

At that his face went fully dark, like all the light had gone out. He looked like the devil incarnate, the fallen angel you had thought to see on the rooftop of the hotel some weeks ago.

He said your name like a warning, and it made your head cock to the side. “Aren’t you a good boy? I think I remember you liked me ordering you around last time.”

In truth, you weren’t even sure he had. Just felt like being a brat, and you had always been more on the dominant side anyway.

“As I said,” he murmured, and he bent down to ravish another kiss on your lips, “my goal is to make you feel good. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

That was enough for you, and you quickly moved up until your back was resting against the car door. He took off your shoes, before pulling your dress pants down your legs.

“I’m already dripping,” you purred, hand reaching to palm yourself over your panties. “I think I’ve been dripping all night thinking about you.”

He chuckled. “So you’ve been thinking about fucking me all night?”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just wanted to make you wait.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Eat me out and I’ll tell you.”

He let out a sound between a groan and a moan, and then he moved back, resting one knee on the ground so he could position himself between your legs. “Fuck, baby.” He looked at your clothed cunt, and then his eyes met yours again. “You really are dripping. I don’t even have to touch you.”

You breathed out an uneven breath. “Touch me.”

It was his turn to smirk, though he still obeyed, leaning forward so he could kiss your entrance over your panties. “Like this?”

“You’re a brat,” you said.

“Maybe.”

“Fucking eat me out, Min Yoongi, before I decide not to have sex with you tonight.”

Emboldened, he said, “As if you’d step away now.”

This time, he sucked on your clit, eyes never leaving yours. The devil incarnate indeed. Though, it seemed he had teased you enough, because he pulled your panties to the side, and his tongue dove once between your folds.

“You taste so good,” he praised.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, and then he lapped at your entrance, before swirling his tongue around your clit. “Yeah.”

When his mouth closed around the sensitive nub and he sucked hard, your lips parted on a silent moan, eyes closing tightly with the pleasure that moved through you.

“You know,” he said, barely pulling away. You could feel his hot breath on your pussy, and it only made you ache for him. “This time I want you to come. I’ll make you fucking come until you can’t walk anymore.”

“Jesus, fuck, Yoongi,” you uttered, and you cracked an eye open to see him smirking devilishly between your legs. “You go all romantic on me and then you say that?”

The smirk turned into a smile, and he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Can’t I be romantic and want to make you feel good at the same time?”

“What are you doing talking to me, then?” you asked. “Shouldn’t you be –“

He didn’t let you finish before he dove back in, and this time he dove hard. As if he wanted you to forget every word in the dictionary, every song you had ever sang. All that was left was the sounds of your pants and moans, entwined with the squelching of his fingers when they started slipping in and out of you, following the same relentless pace as his tongue.

Yoongi was too skilled with his tongue. You remembered as much from that night months ago, even though you had been drunk then. You were a little drunk today, but the alcohol had mostly worn off on the way home. So it didn’t surprise you when an orgasm bubbled on the horizon, rushing towards you faster than you had expected it to.

When Yoongi sucked hard, teeth grazing your clit, you lost it, crashing into your high like a car crashing into a wall at eighty miles per hour. You cried out, something that resembled his name, and your hands pulled at his locks, as your hips rocked forward.

He planted a firm hand on your stomach to force you to stay down as he pulled away, resting his head against your inner thigh. His gaze met yours, and he resumed the movements of his fingers.

You hadn’t noticed he had stopped in the first place.

“That felt good?” he asked.

It felt better than good. It felt like a symphony, a complete orchestra guiding you to heaven. A choir, beautiful, angelic.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Fuck it did.”

He smirked, content, as he fingered you, slowly. “That was only the first one.”

“We’re going to have to work on you too,” you purred. “I want to see you come.”

Your words shut him up, as he inhaled sharply, lust burning so bright in his pupils you thought he might combust in front of you. Yet, he pressed into that sweet spot inside of you, arching his fingers so he could play with it until you were seeing stars again.

You stopped him before he could make you come. Mostly because, when you squirted, you were done for after. You weren’t ready to be done tonight.

“Let’s go up to your condo,” you suggested as he threw you a questioning glance. “As much as fucking in a car’s hot, I’d prefer the comfort of your bed.”

“Your wish is my command,” he agreed, and he sucked a hickey on your inner thigh before pulling his fingers out of you. He put your panties back in place gently, and his eyes fell to his fingers. You both watched as he spread them, strings of your juice connecting the digits still. “Fuck, look at this.”

“That’s all because of you,” you praised. “A good fucking boy.”

He chuckled, wetting his lips. “Always, for you.”

He licked at his fingers, as if to clean them, before he seemed to consider something else. When he brought them closer to your mouth, you huffed a moan before wrapping your lips around the digits, sucking as your tongue cleaned them. His breathing turned a little ragged, and he looked as if he was seconds away from fucking you right then and there when you pulled away with a satisfying pop.

“Everything okay?” you asked, teasingly.

“The elevator ride is going to be so long,” he muttered, and you let out a laugh as you pulled your pants up your legs.

He handed you your shoes, and you quickly put them back on as he got out of the car, grabbing the coats on the passenger seat. It took you a few seconds, but soon enough, you were out too, ready to go up.

Yoongi wasn’t wrong. Just waiting for the elevator took forever, and when you were encased in it, you both exchanged a look so full of longing you jumped on him, grabbing his collar so you could pull him into a heated kiss. He pushed you against the wall, sucking on your bottom lip as the elevator moved up, ever so slowly.

It felt like time was stretching, turning to infinity, and he was sucking a hickey on your neck by the time the elevator came to a halt, doors sliding open on his level.

You walked out, hot and bothered, making your way to his door. He dialed the code in, pushed the door open, and as soon as it was closed, he was on you again, pressing you against the door. He must have dropped the coats on the floor, because his hands held your cheeks as he kissed you stupid, toying with your mouth with that wicked tongue of his.

“Yoongi,” you moaned in his mouth, and he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours.

You both breathed raggedly for a few seconds, and then he grabbed your hand, moving it to where his dick pressed against his pants.

“You got me so fucking horny,” he said, and he chuckled, low sound that reverberated through every inch of you. “I’m so fucking hard and you haven’t even touched me yet.”

“Should I suck your dick?” you asked. “I feel like you’d be coming down my throat in no time.”

He moaned as you palmed it harder, and he grinded his hips, seeking friction. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Whatever?” you asked, and you let out a small dangerous laugh. “So if I ask you to fuck my ass you would.”

It wasn’t that you wanted that. You just knew he was wrapped around your finger, ready to obey your every command. The way his dick twitched under your hand told you so, and he let out a breathy sound.

“You like that?” he asked.

You captured his lips in a kiss, and once you pulled away, you said, “It could be fun. But I’d rather have you fuck my pussy tonight.”

He nodded against you, before straightening. His gaze drank you in for a few seconds, and you admired his swollen lips. They looked even prettier like this, especially knowing that you were the cause of it. That your ministrations made him look like this, like he was minutes away from losing it.

You were going to make sure he did. But first, you wanted to make your way to his room. Because as much as you wanted him, you weren’t an animal. You could wait a moment longer.

“Let’s go to your room,” you told him. “Then you can fuck me.”

“Alright,” he said, and he added your name like a sinful melody. “You think you can come around my dick?”

“Fill me up and we’ll see.”

He let out a small whiny moan, and then you pushed him away so you could take off your shoes. He kicked his off too, a little awkwardly, and a moment later you were following him up the stairs, both of you ignoring the barking of his dog.

Yoongi had taken to caging Holly in the kitchen, mostly because he didn’t want the little dog to pee on the carpet of the living room once more. You both ignored the dog, and you would have felt a little guilty had he not thrown you a lustful look over his shoulder.

“I’ll fill you up just fine, if that’s what you want,” he said, in response to what you had said earlier. “I’ll fill you up and watch you drip with my cum after.”

Your mouth fell open, mostly because you were surprised at his crude words.

“You know, I thought you’re more of a sub,” you admitted, and you chuckled. “Seems getting you horny makes you a brat too, uh?”

“Seems you make me a brat,” he replied, and he chuckled too, slightly shaking his head. “I am more of a sub though. Hence why I’ll do whatever the fuck you want.”

You reached his room, and you cocked your head to the side as he paused in the doorway, turning to look at him.

“Take off your clothes.”

If he was surprised by your command, he didn’t let it show. He instead obeyed, slowly unbuttoning the pale nude colored dress shirt he was wearing.

Some Valentino dress shirt he had worn in Paris, that you had told him you loved too much for him not to wear again. He had taken to wearing it more often than not, especially when it was just the two of you.

The shirt fell softly to the ground, slowly. It puddled at his feet, and he cocked his head to the side as your eyes roamed his figure. Barely stopping on the scars on his shoulder, scars you promised yourself you’d kiss later, when the sins had come to completion.

He took his time to rid himself of his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. They burned with desire, so much so that you thought you had caught fire. You weren’t sure you were hearing an angelic choir anymore – you rather thought you had descended straight to Hell, and you were more than okay with it.

The pants fell at his ankles, and he stepped out, blinking once. “Should I take this off too?” he asked, thumbs hooking in his underwear.

“That and the socks,” you said, nodding your head.

He bit his lip, wet it, and then the boxers joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. He bent down, took off the socks, and then he was standing again, in his full naked glory, hard dick standing proud against his stomach. You took a step closer, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, and you pressed a kiss on his jaw.

“Were you good enough for me to suck you a little?” you asked. You nipped at the skin of his neck, and he let out a soft moan. “I’ll suck you if you promise you won’t come.”

He laughed, and he sounded a little scared, but infinitely turned on. “I’ll try.”

You held his dick tighter. “You’re going to have to do better than try.”

He didn’t reply, just surveyed you with his dark lustful eyes, as you dropped to your knees. As if he needed all his focus on not coming, even as he drank in the sight of you on your knees for him. Already licking your lips, remembering just how good he tasted then.

He tasted just as good today. Maybe even a little more, because he was yours, and that had to account for something. He tasted like ambrosia, like the wine of the gods. His dick was rock hard in your mouth, and his eyes shut as soon as you started working on him.

Probably because, if he was to look at you for a moment longer, he was going to come. He really was wrapped around your fingers again, and so you offered the best you had to offer. And when his breathing turned so ragged you were pretty sure he was about to lose his fight against his orgasm, you pulled away.

It looked like it pained him, but when you got up and captured his lips in yet another languid kiss, he kissed you back with a fervor you almost weren’t expecting. It made your head spin, until you were a moaning mess.

Or maybe that was because he had sunk two fingers inside of you again, sliding his hand in your pants, and he was fucking you like that.

“You’re so,” he started, and he hissed as you bit at his neck, “so wet. I’m going to slide right in.”

You rested your head against his shoulder as his fingers kept fucking you, so quickly your legs started trembling. You grabbed his wrist, trying to slow him down, but if there was a thing about Min Yoongi that you were now realizing, it was that he was just as skilled with his fingers than with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you hissed against his shoulder. “Stop, I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss on your temple, and his digits left you empty. He teased your clit for a moment, and your teeth sunk in his skin in retaliation. He cursed under his breath, but he finally slid his hand out of your pants, bringing it up to his mouth to clean himself.

You didn’t move as he did so, mostly because your legs still felt infinitely weak. You only moved when he grabbed your shoulders gently, pushing you away just enough for you to meet his gaze.

“You want me to fuck you?” he teased, and you clenched your jaw.

As you loosened it, your tongue poked at your cheek and your eyes turned dark. Lustful, sinful. Vengeful. “I didn’t tell you you could finger me like this, did I?”

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

You grabbed his balls, squeezing lightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to have him tense next to you. “Oh, I enjoyed plenty. Now, why don’t you get the clothes off of me?”

He smirked, nodding against you, and then he pulled away. His large skilled hands quickly rid you of your clothing, and soon enough you were standing naked next to him.

“Should I fuck you now?” he asked, with that same bratty attitude he was just now getting.

“Bed,” you ordered. “I’ll fuck myself on you.”

“You want to use me?”

You captured his lips in a kiss, sucking on his tongue when it slid in your mouth. “I will use you.”

At that he gulped, but it was enough to convince him to obey. He finally moved towards the bed, laying down on the pillowy softness of his mattress, hands propped behind his head. He surveyed you carefully as you stalked closer, though you aimed for his night table first.

“Is that where you keep your condoms?” you asked.

He seemed scared for a time, sitting up quickly with a widened gaze. “Let me get that for you.”

You paused, hand on the knob of the drawer. “Got something to hide?”

He gulped, seemingly searching for words. His tongue darted on his pink lips, and then he let out a nervous chuckle. “Not really.”

“Okay?” you said, cocking your head to the side. “So I can open this?”

He breathed in, holding his breath as he nodded.

It wasn’t anything embarrassing, if you were honest. All you found in the drawer were condoms, lube and a pair of handcuffs. At least that was what you thought at first glance. You met his gaze, grabbing the handcuffs. Though your fingers grazed something else, and you shot a confused look to the drawer.

That was when you noticed the black anal plug. Your lips parted, and your gaze met Yoongi’s once more.

“So you do like anal play, do you?” you breathed out.

He looked away from you, though a smirk played on his lips. With that deep, scratchy voice of his, he said, “Can’t say that I don’t.”

You let go of the handcuffs, grabbing the anal plug instead. “You use that on yourself?” you asked, raising it in the space between you.

“Both me and my partners,” he replied truthfully.

You grabbed the lube, and then made your way to the bed. “I’ve never had an anal plug in before,” you admitted. “Now you’ve got my curiosity piqued.”

He laughed, and it wasn’t horny or anything of the sorts. Just sweet. “You want to try?”

The dominant side of you wanted you to say you’d rather put it in him, but there was something about the unknown that made your breath hitch in your throat. Because you did want to know.

You put the plug and lube on the bed, before sitting next to him. He put a large hand on your thigh, running it up and down leaving goosebumps behind. He was looking at you expectantly, and you bit your lip, finally nodding your head yes.

“I’d love to try.”

He leaned closer, pecking your lips once in a familiar gesture before motioning to his bed. “I’d recommend getting on all fours. Face-first in the pillows.”

“What makes you think you can order me around, mmh?” you purred.

His hand gently cupped your neck, skilled fingers immediately finding the arteries. He didn’t choke you right away, instead forcing you to tilt your head back. He sucked a hickey on your jaw, and you hissed, trying to move away, but he was firmly holding you into place.

“The fact you want me to use my toys on you, maybe?”

The fucking brat.

You rarely were silenced, when it came to sex, but it seemed Yoongi had found how to render you mute.

He smirked, and then he choked you, mouth finding yours in yet another hot, languid kiss that left your mind spinning. Or maybe that was the absence of a blood flow to your head. All you could do was reach between you, aiming blindly for his dick. He was rock hard, and you jerked him off slowly, mostly because you were too focused on the kiss. On every swipe of his tongue, on every grunt he emitted.

When he pulled away, fingers finally letting go of your neck, you breathed in shakily.

“I guess I’ll get on all fours then,” you said.

It must have sounded funny, because Yoongi laughed, pecking your forehead. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek once more, and you slightly shook your head. “You really are going to be the death of me.”

“Just trying to make you feel good,” he said, face falling fully serious. Serious and dark, like he was about to ruin you. And you liked the switch in dynamics, even though you had always been more of a dom yourself.

You positioned yourself, ass up and face down in the pillows. Yoongi kneeled behind you, and you heard more than you saw when he uncapped the lube bottle. You startled a little when the first drop of cold liquid hit your asshole, but when Yoongi started rubbing it around, your eyes shut and you focused on the feeling.

Though new and foreign, it was a pleasurable feeling, one that made your pussy clench around nothing. Especially as Yoongi pushed against the tight ring of muscle, dipping his thumb inside.

“You think your virgin ass can take it?” he asked.

He moved his thumb out, then in again, slowly. You gulped, eyes still tightly squeezed shut. “I can take it for you.”

He remained silent, and you cracked an eye open to look at him. His cheeks and his upper chest were flushed red, and his gaze dripped with lust for you. You wanted to swim in the lust, to drown in it. No matter what it took.

His thumb slid out, replaced by a finger. A second later, another finger joined, and you let out a breathy sound. Gazes still connected, your mind zeroed in on him fingering your ass, slowly. When he figured you were ready enough, which he probably understood by the breathy sounds and moans falling from your mouth, Yoongi’s digits left you empty. They were soon replaced by the plug that he lightly pressed against the ring of muscle, never pushing in.

“It’s likely to hurt,” he warned you. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“You’d rather me put it in your ass?” you said through gritted teeth.

He bent down, pressing a kiss on your cheek before he straightened again. “I’ve done it countless times before, I’m a lot more used to it than you.”

“Just put it in, Yoongi,” you said, voice low.

He smirked, and when he started pushing in, you clenched your hands in fists, grabbing at the comforter of his bed. He was right – it hurt. But you wanted to show him you could take it, wanted to prove you could, and so you kept the pained whimper in. Kept your gaze connected to his, trying to keep your face neutral too.

It took a moment, and Yoongi had to pull it out a couple of times before he actually managed to get it all the way in, but a few minutes later, the anal plug was fully embedded into you, making you feel full in a whole new way.

“How’s that feel?” he asked, large hands gently caressing your ass.

“Full,” you replied.

He laughed. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet.”

The thought that he was going to fuck you, while you were impaled by his anal plug… it had a moan bubble in your throat, unexpectedly. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Should I handcuff you too?”

Now, you needed to regain control. So you straightened, turning towards him. “I’ll cuff you. Lie down.”

He seemed surprised by the new switch in dynamics, but he still complied, lying down on his back as you fished the handcuffs out of his night table. You also grabbed a condom, and then you moved back to his side.

The key to the handcuffs currently was in the lock, and you took it out, eyeing it pensively. “Should I hide this?” you asked, gaze darting to Yoongi.

He gulped, turning his head to the side to regard you. His hair fell on his forehead, and you put the condom down so you could brush it away.

“Just put it on the night table, we don’t want to lose it.”

You tutted, but you still did as told, knowing that it would be a stupid thing to throw it somewhere in the room. You then gently grabbed one of Yoongi’s wrists, cuffing it. As you pulled his arm over his head, he himself brought his other wrist to you, and you imprisoned it too. You made sure it wasn’t too tight, before sitting back on your heels. It made the anal plug move inside of you, and you let out an unexpected moan.

His eyes widened at the sound, and you leaned down to steal a kiss on his lips.

“Now,” you said once you straightened. “Let me put this on.”

You grabbed the foil package, tearing it open to fish the condom out of it. Yoongi was still watching you carefully, awaiting your next move. You grabbed the base of his cock, before lazily stroking it. He gulped, lips parting slightly.

“You think you’re ready?”

He chuckled, glancing down to his dick. “Pretty sure I am.”

You smirked, cocking your head to the side, though you were done being a tease. You wanted to feel him, to have him inside of you. So you rolled the condom on with an expert hand before climbing on his lap. Your hands landed on his chest, and you gently ran them down, along his ribs, and then back up to settle around his neck.

His pretty eyes just watched, and suddenly warmth bubbled inside of you. Not arousal, but really the kind of warmth only looking at a lover can bring out of someone. You stilled, meeting his gaze, and you wondered if he could see the adoration filling your eyes.

He must have, because he said, “I am going to fall so hard for you.”

You bent down, and it was with lips connected that Yoongi pushed inside of you, slowly. It hurt, stretched and burned, with the anal plug, so he was gentle. He was soft, and when he was fully embedded in you, you pulled away. Just enough to meet his gaze, and see the passion lighting up the depths of his pupils.

“Gosh, Yoongi,” you breathed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Feelings swelled in your chest. Like wind catching in the sails of a boat, until you felt yourself rushing forward. Towards him, finally meeting him. Finally finding the comfort that was meant to be yours. You kissed him again then, slowly, languidly. Passionately, tracing a melody of love and desire on his lips. One he reciprocated, and his cuffed hands moved until his arms were wrapped around you, trapping you into place.

He slowly fucked up into you, lips never faltering against your mouth. He swallowed every little breathy sounds you let out, grunted on your lips until it seemed passion gained over love, and his pace increased. It increased until he was pounding into you, and it was his turn to grunt and moan against your lips.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, and he held you tighter, closer, crushing all of you against him. When his movements grew sloppy, you tried to pull away, but his cuffed hands kept you into place.

He chuckled, sucking on your shoulder. “You’re stuck here, baby.”

“I just want to fuck myself on you,” you whined.

He sighed. “I like having you close.”        

The way he said it made you bite at his neck. “I want you to fucking come, Yoongi. I want to look you in the eye while you come.”

He moaned, and to your surprise he let you go, hands going back over his head. You straightened, eyes finding his, and his ragged breathing told you enough – he was going to come in no time. So you started moving, up and down, one hand massaging your breast while the other settled on his neck again.

“Faster,” he begged, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me,” you commanded.

He hissed, though his gaze found yours. He looked desperate, under you like this, and you smirked, tilting your head to the side. You still started going faster, and soon enough your second hand settled on his shoulder to give you better leverage.

Yoongi was close. You could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open, mind swimming in ecstasy as his high neared the horizon. You wondered how long he’d fight it – how long he’d keep his sinful gaze on you, just wanting to please you.

He moaned, loud, jaw going slack. Still, you didn’t feel the telltale twitch of his dick inside of you, telling you that he had yet to lose it. So you started choking him, moaning his name when his hips started moving up, meeting yours halfway. The sound of skin slapping on skin became louder, and a second later he cursed, loud and clear. His hands flew towards you, and you grabbed at the chain linking his two wrists, picking up the pace as he released inside of you.

Something about the twitch of his dick had you racing towards another orgasm, and you clenched around him. He probably figured what it meant, because he forced you to lean down, wrapping his cuffed hands around you. Holding you close, he fucked into you, rough. The feeling, combined with the anal plug, had you soaring up to the sky, and you came blindly, vision turning fully white.

He milked your orgasm, as it kept going on and on. You were a moaning mess, and his grunts entwined with your sounds until all that was left was you and him, breathing raggedly. You rested your forehead against his, and he kept you close as you came down from the high that sex with him consisted of.

He pulled out of you when your heart had finally calmed down in your chest, and you pulled away just enough to be able to look him in the eye, his cuffed hands keeping you from moving too far.

“Holy shit,” you said, and he laughed, softly.

“Yeah.” He pulled you down to press a kiss on your lips, before moving his hands over his head once more. “That was amazing.”

“Why did we wait?” you asked.

He laughed again. “I would wait for you for eternity.”

“You’re so cheesy, Min Yoongi,” you teased him, and you bent to peck his nose.

He smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m just happy.”

“Your happiness is a beautiful sight to see.”

There was a silence, of you gazing at each other. And you thought, you thought if the loneliness was meant to lead to this moment, right now, you’d do it all over again.

Because happiness, it really was a beautiful sight to see.

 *****

               You watched Yoongi carefully, as he read the lyrics of your song. You had finally managed to finish it, a month into the new year. It led somewhere else than you had first wanted it to, but you thought it was fitting.

You could only hope that he agreed with you.

You blinked as time stretched, with him just reading. You followed his eyes as they skimmed the paper, going back to some line once in a while. You didn’t know if it was because of disapproval, or because he liked your turn of phrase. It was hard to tell, because professional Yoongi was sitting across from you.

Professional Yoongi didn’t let his emotions show on his face.

Holly barked somewhere on your left, startling you. While Yoongi read, you went to the dog, petting it with clammy hands. Because the silence meant nothing good, right? He probably didn’t like the song.

Anxiety was starting to make you spiral when Yoongi said, “Wow.”

Relief flooded through you as you glanced at him. “What do you think?”

“Is this… it’s about us.”

You nibbled at your lower lip. “It is.”

He murmured your name, right as you straightened to walk back to where he was sitting, on the couch. You sat next to him, holding his gaze.

“Never thought I’d be someone’s muse someday.”

You threw him a no-bullshit look. “You are the muse of a lot of people, Yoongi.”

He smirked wickedly. “Am I?”

You said nothing, because really there was nothing to say. He just smiled, that gummy smile of his, and your heart swelled with fondness.

“You’re going to release this?” he asked.

You wet your lips, nodding your head. “I have an idea for a melody, but I thought you… maybe you could help?”

His eyes sparkled. “I have something that could work.”

He grabbed your hand, jumping to his feet to pull you behind him, towards his studio. Halfway up the stairs, you tugged on his hand, trying to gain his attention.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I want to release it with the song.”

He stopped walking, and you almost bumped into him.

“The song song?”

You nodded. “I was thinking of an EP? I have two other songs I used to play when I went busking that I never recorded. I thought, why not record and release everything together?”

His face split into a smile once again, and he pulled you in his chest. You almost fell, and it made the both of you laugh, until you finally started walking up the stairs again.

“It’s a good idea,” he said. “It’s going to be perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, because you doubted that it’d be perfect, but with Yoongi helping you, you knew it’d be good. And good was enough for you. Good was smiles and warmth and the flush of his cheeks whenever you complimented him.

Min Yoongi was good, in all the ways that mattered. He was good to you, and good to the world around him. He was good at what he did, producing a melody for you that resonated with your soul, with the lyrics you had put down on the paper. Lyrics that came back to your mind, as you watched him working on his computer, a focused look on his features.

In the land where no one knows my name

I seek a path that leads to dreams

Bright lights and Heaven’s door

I knock and scream at them, open

In a world where no one knows my name

I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs

You’d think they’d ring true and high

But I think they’re the devil in disguise

They push me out and in the mud

I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me

In the land where no one knows my name

I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away

They say one day I’ll understand

But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay

               It starts out slowly

Your light and darkness, everything

Success comes and goes, and I

If I make the rules, then I’ll make them bleed

Haters, they think they know

But ignorance is their song

They had me on my knees

Now I watch them beg, scream

I’ll never fucking care for them

In the land where no one knew my name

Now I look down to the world

And I think they live in hell

               In the land where no one knew my name

I was no one, I was scraps and mud

The mud’s taken shape now

It screams of your name, more than mine

I was thrown to hell, burned eternity

But I made the rules, right?

If hell is for the lonely people

Then I think we’ve found each other

They brought me down when they could ay

Now I stand tall and proud

Who cares about Heaven, about the choirs

When you stand next to me

They thought they could bring me down

I laugh and say, “Watch them try”

 But can they, when I’ve got you

We made the rules and now we reign

Over this hell of lonely people

And heavy is the crown, yeah

But light is the heart,

With you, a thousand eternities

Won’t be enough to bring us down

In the land where no one knew my name

Still you knew it

And isn’t that all that matters?

In the hours of darkness

Down in the mud

You said my name and I looked up

If hell is a lonely place

Then maybe you’re my heaven

 And maybe, maybe you had always been meant to love Min Yoongi. Reigning over your little world, with him.

That night, you laid in bed entwined with him, listening to his deep breathing as he slept the night away. Silver light from the moon outside lit up his features, and you took a moment to admire him. To admire his softness, and the flutter of his eyelids whenever he moved in his sleep.

He looked like a prince, regal, eternal, lying next to you like this. His steady breathing was comfort, and his beauty was awe. It was unbelievable that he was yours, that he was to be by your side from now on and until the end.

Loneliness was a distant song, when Min Yoongi was next to you. And you knew he wasn’t to go, not anymore. Because, no matter how unbelievable it was, Yoongi was truly meant to reign over the world, with you.

So now you’d reign.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Woooow I hope we enjoyed this! I was really excited to post this after The Forgotten Spaces. What did we think?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist:

@chimchimmarie | @pamzn

[yorsgirl]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐬!

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: On the foremost, you should have seen the red flags in yourself. Dropping this charade at the right time was the right decision. Yet, one look at his crimson tinted eyes and you found yourself wearing your rose colored glasses.

Tropes: Taboo relationship, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, possessive themes, explicit smut, praise, light degradation, fingering, fellatio+handjob, semi public, unprotected, rough, hair pulling, nipple play, choking, undertones of - angst, attachment issues, insecurities, mentions of neglect, no curse AU, adultery, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 4.4k

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

A/N: forgive me, I was supposed to complete something else but instead this had me on a chokehold. Nothing can stop me from writing smut with my king. Hope you enjoy <3

Your reflection stared back at you.

Although the skilled work of your makeup artist showed itself on your rather decked up mien, the very chance at being delighted by your appearance eluded you.

Never did you think that you'd tolerate cheating in your marriage. Yet, here you were - celebrating the anniversary with your husband.

A black tie gala and when he exited the penthouse with you, anyone could say he was indeed looking forward to it. The customized blue Armani suit looked gorgeous upon him. Although you made sure to pass a compliment to him on your way out, the same treatment wasn’t returned.

Of course, he wouldn’t.

What else did you expect?

From the looks of it, tonight would and should mark one of the greatest days of both of your lives. However, neither of you had the guts to confront the elephant in the room. So, once again the charade would have to play. The cover pages of Forbes and Financial times would certainly make this night, a talk of the town. He must be busy with preparations of that, obviously he held little concern over your whereabouts. If not, the scandal wouldn't have stretched on this far.

On what basis did you even think that this relationship would anywhere be successful? Of course it wouldn’t when on the fore front it was always meant to end in shambles.

Besides, sparing him a subtle glance only minutes ago had you clear out of all your doubts. Leaving you to realize two facts: 1 - you wouldn't had been surprised if he would have confessed to have simply forgotten about tonight. 2 - the very same husband had been transfixed by a woman which wasn't you.

With the workaholic of a man he was, it wouldn't astound you if he said that he needed to be away to look into urgent matters. It wouldn't astound you one bit if he just needed his PA to accompany him to that urgent matter. As a good, ideal wife, what did you do? Obviously, leave the room. No matter how long did you stretch the lengths of your restraint, certain glances could never be unseen. Even then, the sharp glares bestowed upon you by everyone in the room rendered you breathless. Rumours seldom held the truth. This instance it did. Almost everyone knew about the scandal, considering the affair wasn't so discreet after all. Evidently, all those glares told you that you were being a nuisance there.

You glanced at the girl again; beautiful. Obviously, she was trying to impress someone. And from the looks of it, from the tiny smirk shot her way, she knew she was successful. Honestly, you can't blame her. He was quite the man with the flames burning in his crimson eyes and that charismatic smirk which even had you put on your rose tinted glasses.

With all the reasons screaming at your face to leave the main venue; you did.

Hence, now, standing afore the basin in the women's room - you could finally let yourself be free.

The black dress clung to your body tenaciously and the red diamond pendant resting on the juncture of your collarbones seemingly did little to cure your case. The jewellery was certainly a gift. Currently, you found the giver of the same gift in the same room as you.

You sharply craned your neck to the side, "What are you doing here?"

A languid smirk rested upon the curve of Sukuna's lips as he leaned against the door of the restroom. "I could ask the same, doll. What are you doing here?"

"Should not be your concern," Reverting your attention back to the mirror, you pushed some fringes of hair before your ear. "I can be wherever I want."

On cue he pushed himself from the door, sauntering over to you. In the limited lapse of time, you sure did make out how the door had been locked shut from inside. Sukuna towered over you, one hand of his rested beside yours on the counter; his breath fanned over your neck, instinctively you tightened your grip on the cool tile.

“Sure, you can doll.” He whispered near your ear, lifting his hand to push the same tendril of hair behind your ear. “However, to me it seemed, you were waiting for someone.”

“Certainly,” You affirmed, shooting a pointed look up at him. Although the close proximity, you refrained from letting your eyes wander over his frame clad in the black Zegna suit which fit him almost perfectly. “I was waiting when my husband will notice that I’ve left his side and come looking for me.” He grasped your arm, forcibly turning you around, though the hold was firm – the venomous pressure was nowhere to be found. “But that’s too much to ask from him, now.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “What a bastard of a husband to leave such a pretty thing like you all alone.”

“Sukuna-”

“Still I am here,” The undertone in his voice was too loud to ignore. Besides, did you really want to?

You reached up, straightening his crooked tie like a dutiful wife. “I didn’t call you here.”

“Now, now doll-” A Cheshire grin slipped into his lips, free arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you looked at me there?”

It wasn’t clear cut lie; you did find your eyes wandering over to him even though you knew he would be up to no good. However, it was still funny. Funny how he took notice of it when all he seemed to be captivated by the other woman in the room. Did he think you wouldn’t find out or did he think that getting someone new would only make this charade all the more entertaining?

With the three of you present in the same only minutes ago, filled with family, friends, rivals and acquaintances, only a handful remained oblivious to the ongoing show. Now, with two of you gone, the few PR team members that lurked around the corner would certainly not pass up the opportunity to highlight this in the internet next day. Just how much they loved stirring the drama and how much the netizens loved consuming it.

You looked up at him from underneath your lashes, “Notice?” You scoffed with a bitter smile. “How laughable. The last time I checked you were rather pouring your attention on someone else, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Jealous?” He tipped his head forward, “And what if I was?”

“Nothing,” You let the strain of the situation reign in your two seconds of silence. “Enjoy your night. If you excuse me now-” You pinched your lips. “I have to call a friend to get me home, now.”

Like a chain reaction, it started.

First, Sukuna’s grasp on your waist tightened. The flicker of a vexation much akin to a match starting a forest fire, burnt in his eyes. “And who might this friend be? Someone I should be worried about?”

Second, with a soft graze of your thumb against his jaw, your question commenced. “Jealous?” A halt of five seconds settled down. Yet, you were more than eager to be the catalyst in this chemical reaction. “What if you should?”

Third, he threaded his fingers into your open hair; knotting the digits in your luscious strands. He tersely tugged them back, inciting a groan from you. Leaning down, his lips brushed against your own, “Then I just have to crush some pests for looking at my woman.”

Last, but certainly not the least – his lips locked onto yours.

Though the kiss was sudden, you found yourself fluttering your eyes shut as you delve into this passion only he can bring. You held his shoulder to bring the needed balance, the coarse fabric of his coat contrasted against your smooth palm. Sukuna angled your head to his comfort, nibbling on your bottom lip and once you give him access, he didn’t miss a second before pushing forth his warm tongue in your mouth. The spicy cologne of his mingled with the slight lime scent of the bathroom and with the way he worked on your mouth, your knees were weakening.

On the foremost, you knew you shouldn’t give in, you knew continuing a relationship built on lies would only end in shambles. Yet, when he pulled back – leaving you breathless for the first time tonight (and all the previous other nights), you again gazed into his red-tinted eyes. Ah! How stupid of you? Still, you found yourself putting on your rose coloured glasses.

“Aren’t you being too brave for your own good, doll? What gave you the fucking right to think of someone else when I am right here?” With delicate measures, he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger; sharp contrast to the, not so empty threat bespoken seconds ago. “Still, it wouldn’t stop me from teaching you a lesson, here and now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Here and now?”

“Here and now.” With that, Sukuna’s lips crashed over yours once again.

His mouth ransacked over your own as he glided his hand over to your bottom and on your thighs to lift you up and place you over the countertop.  Now, on a levelled height with his, you didn’t hesitate from indulging more into the fiery exchange by tracing your manicured nails from his nape to his roseate strands. That surely did incite a groan from him and you could feel the smirk curving into your lips.

Despite the heated encounter, you were left pondering upon your thoughts. What was the point of staying in a marriage where the love given wasn’t the love reciprocated? However, with the way his moulded with yours so perfectly, all the guilty feelings just had to fade away.

Both of you parted once again, though Sukuna was a far from letting you take a moment’s rest. He latched onto your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses over your skin. A rather salacious moan erupted from you once he bit into the sensitive part of your skin. “Ah- you can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You are mine.” The guttural growl of his voice near your ear sent a pulse to your core. He tipped your face up to meet his eyes, “Say it, love. Who do you belong to?”

The diabolical possessiveness of his had always been so disastrous... as well desirous. What was it with him that something so wrong just felt so right? Although you knew you shouldn't give in to him, that this shouldn't continue any longer. Needed to tell him that you couldn't bear the neglect anymore, you knew we were way past thee point of return. As if a scripted play, you found yourself acting again. “You. Only you.”

For a second, his frame went rigid. The next, he was pushing your back against the mirror, hoisting up the longer end of your dress till it decked around your hips and pressing his calloused palm over the soft fabric of your panties. Ah. He sure knew what he wanted tonight and he was going to have it.

While his pupil was dilated with desire, he didn’t fail from passing a knowing smirk when he felt the dampened spot on the garment. “With the way you are wet for me, no one would believe anything else.”

Oh god…

You feigned innocence, “Do you want anyone else to know?” That obviously didn’t end well. Without warning, Sukuna peeled off the cloth and pushed two of his digits inside your slick folds. “Nghh- Sukuna-”

“Everyone already knows, love.” He murmured, lips hovering over the shell of your ear. “Everyone knows that you are mine.”

He curved his fingers inside your cunt, velvet walls clamping around him in a tightness which had his cock straining against his briefs. Scissoring his way through, he stretched you out into a V. Even then, he was ruthless, letting his thumb press over your swollen clit as the juices of your arousal flowed out of your folds. The torturous onslaught over your cunt surely was too much to handle; the barbaric, loud sounds of your moans mixed with curses were like music to his ears. “Ah- Ahh Su-Sukuna… f-fuck.”

“Shh, darling,” He hushed you with a chaste kiss on your parted lips. “You don’t want an audience, do you? But if you do-” He pinched on your clit and involuntarily, did you elicit a loud squeal. One enough to have caught the ears of anyone who might be lingering in the corridors. “I am more than ready to make all of your dreams come true.”

“N-No, ahh- no-none of those are- nghh- my dr-dreams.” You managed to stumble out the few words in your lust drunk state, gripping into his biceps to restrain this torment. Although the treacherous smirk rested upon him, you knew that he was more than serious. Knew that if given the chance, he wouldn’t shy away from indulging you into exhibitionism. One act which repelled you so much. Your image was already tarnished enough among the socialists and elites. Another spot at that and you would be crossing the line of no return. No way were you letting that happen. Or so you thought.

Despite the repugnance, one glance at the man before you, one touch of his skin against yours, one praise of his – calling you his good girl, fell on your parched ears, you just might let him. To imagine it was more the arousing as much as it was perilligious. While on the base level, the act itself repelled you so much when the fleshed out play conjured before your eyes, it was rather difficult to deny it. However, that was a thought for another day.

Sukuna reached his free hand over to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down – stretching it, ruining the material beyond repair and that was the least of your concern. All you wanted was him. His hands, his mouth, his touch. All of him. The cool air of the night hit your nipples, making them stand erect as the man indulged in like a predacious beast attaining his meal after days. He squeezed and kneaded your breast, while latching onto the other as he swirled his tongue over your hardened bud.

With all the added stimulation over your body, you were sent over the end. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you bit into your lips to stop the traitorous sounds, “Su-Sukuna… I- I am-”

“Not yet.”

“H-Huh?” You buckled your hips against his fingers, arching your back for he just mercilessly lessened his pace.

“You won’t cum until I say so,” He leaned back up fully to his original height, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone before they drop to your hips. “Do you get it, love?”

You snapped your eyes shut, toe curling up as the protest marked itself on your features, “Su-Sukuna, it-its…”

“Won’t you do it for me, love? Won’t you please me?” It was so damn painful to momentarily halt your climax when all you wanted was to let go. Yet, like clockwork, you nodded. “There’s my good girl,”

Words were funny. How did he just managed to get the flutter out of your chest with a single praise?

Sukuna again increased the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, curving and coiling them up to his wish and just enough to provide you with the needed pleasure. “Not yet,” He murmured, brushing circles over your clit. “Not yet,” He twisted the digits inside, hitting your sweet spot causing you to sink your nails over the hardened tile. He stretched his finger to the maximum, observing how your cunt throbbed while sucking in air and then he grinned. “Now.”

And like the night the string holding your sanity snapped, this wasn’t so different.

You spasmed around his digits, the climax washing over you like a thunderous wave hitting the shore. Eyes squeezed shut and a trail of drool running down your mouth, certainly you were a sight for his sore eyes. He pulled out his fingers from inside you, wiping it clean with the tissues on the rack as you came down from your high. Your bare chest heaved up and down while you inhaled the copious amount of air.

After you did and once your breathing was levelled, you were more than eager to return the return by yourself. So, when you sank down to your knees – Sukuna liked it a lot. Liked it more when you unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring out free and God… he was huge. The sheer girth and length was enough to put you into a moment of stupor. However, you broke out of it, ejected your spit on your hand, pumping his shaft to lubricate the length.

“Fuck- love, that’s hot.”

“Just returning the favour,” Said so, you placed a soft kiss over his tip before delving your mouth on its length. The salty taste of precum fell over your tongue – lapping it up, you swirled your tongue over the glans penis. Keeping your eyes on him, you forced more of his length into your mouth. Christ. The sheer girth of it stretched your mouth in a painful way yet that wasn’t your concern. For you were too much preoccupied with the throaty moans of Sukuna.

“Shit- you’re so good, lo- ahh- fuc-fuck, just like that.” He wrapped his fingers around the loose ends of your hair, pulling them in a ponytail as he guided you on his length.

His satisfaction rang in your ears and it pushed you further to make this experience hell of a memorable one. After all, when will be the next time this would happen? Or will it happen again? The overthinking was pushed out of your brain when you gagged on his cock – eyes fluttering shut as a tear prickled your eye. Recoiling soon after, you started to bob your head in the same rhythmic manner which he liked while you pumped the rest of his member. The way he grunts out your name again causes your cunt to throb with anticipation. Oh, how much you just wanted him to fill you up to the brim.

Trails of drool run down your lips to your chin and you pull your mouth back from his cock. A string of spit connected your glistening mouth to the tip and just from the sight of it, Sukuna could have climaxed then and there. “Ah- Fuck, doll… you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, not bothering to respond to that. Drunk on insatiable lust must have the courage take over. Cause the next thing you did was, pump your fist over his drool-coated cock with such a rhythm that had him throwing back his back. “Shoot your cum in my mouth.”

Despite the burning ache in his abdomen added to the stimulation and the sight of you on your knees, he still managed to keep up his cocky attitude. “Feeling bold today, are we? I wonder why…”

“Sukuna-” The warning this time was cleared out in your voice. “You know I can just leave you here and you will have to take care of this by yourself. Want that?”

“No.”

How easy was that? You smirked, darting out your tongue as you licked over the tip and took him in your mouth again. Sucking and lapping at his cock, the wanton grunts of his certainly contended you. You eagerly indulge him, coaxing him into the needful climax. His cock twitched inside your mouth. You knew, he was close. He knew, he was close.

Only a second later, he was shooting his cum inside your mouth.

You knew better than to let the aftertaste rest on your tongue. So when the copious amount of liquids started to pour in your throat, you were quick to gulp it down like a good girl. Once done, with the treatment, you let out his flaccid cock with a pop. A short trail of his ecstasy ran down your lips and Sukuna reached down to wipe extra liquid off your mouth.

“Fuck it, love.” He quivered out almost breathless. “How do you manage to be so beautiful always?”

You shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know, you tell me. A lot many people don’t think so.”

On instance, he grasped your arm, pulling you up from the floor. Holding you via the hips, he didn’t waste a second before locking his lips with yours again. However, unlike the first two times, this time, it was a lot softer. A tender gesture shutting you up from all the self-depreciating words, you must have been telling yourself.

Parting a hair’s breadth away, he muttered, “You should know by now that I am not most people.”

You snickered with a sour smile, “I know.”

With that, this time it was you initiating the kiss. You pulled him closer, holding his collar, it felt almost humorous how he still had his clothes on while yours were sliding off your body. The last thing you wanted were words o affirmations about the situation. It’s a distraction. You told yourself. All of it to keep your mind off the true matter at hand; Veiling the truths of a neglectful husband who was repulsed by his wife. You didn’t keep the previous tender tempo, instead engaging in a lascivious dance with his tongue, beckoning back the lustful desire that garnered the both of you.

Of course, it worked.

Of course, the roughness of his actions returned.

Of course, he was feasting upon your mouth as he stepped up and your buttocks hit the counter again.

Only a second later, Sukuna was flipping you on your back – assisting you into his favourite position. Both of you stared back at the reflection of the erotogenic position with your ass lined up with his crotch. Both of you shared the same mind – you nodded and he followed up with shoving his cock in your needy folds. He hit you till the brim, fleshy walls clamping around his member tenaciously, coaxing him to build up another climax.

“Doll, ahh- fuck! You just keep g-getting better- nghh- everytime, ahh-” He groaned from above you, his pelvix smacking against your ass as he continued to fill you up and pull out, just till the tip and inside again. “Fuc-Fuck! Did no one fu-fuck you this time round?”

“N-No.”

“Good,” He struck a rough hand over your ass cheek. “This cunt’s fucking mine.”

He increased the pace of his thrusts, giving you just enough. Just how much you wanted. Needed. And only this experience would ever count. His cock hit till your cervix and you arched your back, tears running down your cheeks. You muffled your whiny screams by pressing your face down on the cool tile. Obviously, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The next second, he was pulling your head up gripping onto your hair strands as he jerked you face to meet the mirror. Your makeup was barely intact with the eyeliner smudged and the lipstick smeared over.

“Sh-Shit, Sukuna… ahh- to-too fast! Nghh-“

“Keep your eyes on me as I fuck you like a good little slut,” Tugging both of your hands back, he used them as a leverage to keep you up.

Now, with your cheek pressed against the mirror, you were forced to witness this unmaking. To keep his words, you did keep your eyes on him – meeting the burning lust filled irises. The diamond neck around your neck swayed in the air as he kept on shoving in-and-out of you.

“Damn it, I knew this would look good on you.” He traced his fingers over the jewel before his hand clamped around your neck – restricting the air supply. He was ruthless in this session tonight and it showed. Was it due to the fact that you were wearing the jewellery he bought you that sparked the need to claim you as his once again? Or was it because you had been bolder in your statements than usual?  

Your lips parted as you tried to take in as much air as he would allow. Pulling you back, Sukuna let your back rest against his hard chest, still drilling into your hole. While you were on the brink of letting go with the pleasure, pushing you over the edge, he was mindful to keep his eyes trained on you. You. Not the reflection. The real you. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he deepened his thrusts. He watched how your eyes rolled back as he worked you into your second orgasm for the night. He watched how you gripped onto his elbow for support when you milked him dry.

An amalgam of emotions passed through his eyes while you were fixed on the daze of your after your climax. All of it flickering to none when he saw you gaining sense. And after a few thrusts, he finished himself inside you.

The next few minutes were a passage of silence. A silence which if used properly would clear up so much things between the two of you. Yet, with the room reeking of recent sex and the sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, both of you knew this confrontation wouldn’t happen soon enough.

“What now?” You questioned, choosing to be the mature one amongst the two.

“What now?” You hummed in affirmation and Sukuna found himself, trying to conjure up the proper response for this situation.

Whoever it was, that said – more than the event, the aftermath mattered – were certainly wise. For you and Sukuna, the aftermath would never be fruitful. An unspoken fact both of you could agree upon. Yet, was it just too wrong to let this charade continue for a little long?

“What do you suggest?” He gazed down on you, a softer tone coating his words as he pushed off the matted hairs from your face. “What do you want to do?”

“Mhm, well-” You slightly rotated your neck towards him. “Its my anniversary, after all. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” He helped you get down from the counter, fixing the neckline of the dress to cover your skin as much as it would offer. “What say, want to get out of here?”

With a know-it-all smile and the thrill of peril daunting over, you answered him.

Meeting his lips for only a second. “Yes.”

___

CBN @/cybernetizens ◦ 3h ago

Wife of Satoru Gojo, have been spotted to leave company’s thirtieth anniversary with business rival Sukuna Ryomen in a scandalous outfit.

9.2k likes | 5.8k comments | 4.5k retweets

-

Buzz @/buzzfeed ◦ 5h ago

New image of Mrs. Gojo with Sukuna Ryomen in indecent outfit and appearance leaves netizens shocked!

2.2k likes | 1.7k comments | 0.6k retweets

-

GJNewz @/generaljapannewz ◦ 10h ago

Elitist and wife of Satoru Gojo spotted to have entered Hotel de Elysium with Sukuna Ryomen. Is this a public statement to announce divorce against husband?

5.6k likes | 2.1k comments | 1.3k retweets

[sketchguk]

part time lover (moodboard)

➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader

➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

➵ word count: 465 (teaser) / 30.8k

➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.

only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison),  jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love). 

➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST

➳ a/n: thank you for all the love you've shown on the teaser. i really didn't expect so much support >.< i hope you're all as excited as i am though !! once again, this is part of the “industry baby” collab! please look forward to all of the other fics in the masterpost 💛

smut warnings below the cut!

➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot

“You can touch me if you want,” he offers. 

You’re not as confident as Jeongguk, but oh, how you wish you were. 

“Do you want to?” He senses your hesitation, yet you nod your head, affirming.

“I do,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I want to touch you- feel you.” 

Jeongguk wraps his fingers around your wrists, bringing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. They’re muscular beneath your touch. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander and for letting your panties soak with arousal ー neither of which you can control. 

Somehow, you resist the urge to look down at his physique. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing his strong forearms, adorned by the dark tattoos that coil up his muscles. Your gaze darts across his features, struggling to focus on the starlight in his eyes. You switch between the edge of his jaw, the dip of his neck, and the plump of his lips. 

“My eyes are up here, angel.” The corner of his mouth draws into a smile ー so bright and devastatingly beautiful. He hooks a gentle hand beneath your chin, guiding you to meet his stare. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

Your voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. It’s nearly inaudible. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.” 

The innocence of your words makes Jeongguk blush. He’s never been the type to be so easily affected. After all, he’s the bold one in the relationship ー confident, decisive, dominant. But you make him weak in the knees.

“You don’t have to ask permission to kiss me.” Jeongguk inches closer, considerate hands squeezing around your waist. “You’re my wife.” 

Why does the thought of belonging to Jeongguk make your heart stutter? You’re certain that this is nothing but pretend, yet the only thing that makes you believe this could be real is the soothing circles that Jeongguk draws onto your skin. He’s present. He’s willing. His lips are right there, right in front of you. You could take the leap of faith and close the distance, leaning forward to kiss him. 

So you do. 

.

.

.

Your eyes are half lidded as you murmur a quiet confession, “I want to kiss you again.” Normally, you wouldn’t dare to be so bold, but you feel drunk on his taste.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Jeongguk draws you closer, dragging your core onto the apex of his thighs, thick and sturdy. “I like anything that you like. Kissing you. Holding you. Just looking at you,” he shrugs. “And if it wasn’t obvious enough… I like you.” 

Jeon Jeongguk makes you absolutely breathless. “Ar- are we still pretending?”

check it out here!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: I know I shouldn't but I say that every time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

Finally, you’re going to college but it can’t be a smooth transition. No, there’s always a hurdle in the road. You have your acceptance and your tuition scraped together, and there’s only one box left unticked; housing.  

It’s as if the ad was meant for you. ‘Book your room now. Single rooms available for campus students.’ 

Maybe people are right when they say your devices are listening to you. Still, you can’t exactly pass up the opportunity. All summer you searched yet just like the rest of your life, you’re running behind. 

The response is so quick, you almost can’t believe it’s real. It isn’t, not yet. It’s just an offer of a walk-through. You’ve done a dozen of those at least and each time, the room went to someone else. But you have to try. You can’t just give up, not after everything you’ve gone through to get here. 

Better late than never. That could be your motto. You should get it inscribed in Latin on something. Maybe a jacket? Are letterman’s out of style? 

You head out for the noon-hour meeting with the building manager. The posting said it was a new development. Hopefully, that means you don’t have to deal with anyone elses' leftover grime. Not that you’re picky. You’ve lived in worse. 

You let Marla know you’re heading out. Your mom’s friend will be even more ecstatic if you get this one. Neither of you expected you to be crashing for so long. It’s getting a bit crowded with her own kids still under the same roof. 

You catch the downtown route and get the connection just before it drives off. The building is slightly off-campus. You don’t mind. You're a bit too old to be kept awake by the frat house ragers. The reminder sparks another swell of insecurity. 

High school feels distant and you feel a bit pathetic running to catch up from behind. You’ll be older than most of the freshmen, even those who took a gap year. At least you’re doing it. Yeah, that’s something. An achievement is still that even if it’s not on the same schedule as everyone else. 

You miss your stop and curse yourself. It’s only a block away from where you need to be but you’re getting close to twelve as you spot the same building from the ad.

It’s a nice place. Modern and sleek. You wonder why anyone would convert it to student housing. Financially, it’s likely a windfall yet students do have a way of ruining a good thing. 

As you come up the walk, the curtain flutters in one of the windows. The boxy building isn’t quite as big as the on-campus dorms. That’s another relief. Not having to deal with the crush of students. 

The more you think about it, the more this seems like the perfect opportunity. You don’t want to get your hopes up. You know better. 

The door opens before you can reach it. You falter as a lithe man breezes through and grins in your direction. His blond hair pales in the sunlight and his blue eyes twinkle. He’s at least a decade, maybe two, older than you but he’s not aged poorly. 

“Ah, you must be Ann,” he extends his arm in a formal greeting, “Jonathan, we emailed.” 

“Oh, yes,” you shake his hand and show your teeth sheepishly. “Sorry if I’m late.” 

“Right on time,” he lets go and checks his watch. “I thought we could have our tour and then get to the usual questions. You understand, we have a strict screening process for residents. We can never be too careful.” 

He turns and strides back to the door and opens it, waiting for you as he steps to the side. You approach as he beckons within. 

“It is as much about out safety as those we choose to live here. We have seen the recent scandals at the college and what with the world the way it is. He tuts as you precede him through the door. His accent soothes your bubbling nerves. 

The entry way is tidy and neat. There’s a shelf of cubbies for shoes and a rack opposite with at least a dozen hooks for jackets and the like. You kick the dirt on your soles onto the mat. 

“You may leave your shoes on for the tour. We will have the house cleaned prior to move-in day. Of course, once you and your flat mates are in-house, it will be up to you to determine house rules.” He points you ahead. “Of course, if you choose to stay with us.” 

“Right, er, yeah, makes sense.” 

“Is this your first year?” He asks. His overly cordial manner helps ease you. 

“Mhmm, um, finally. I had to delay it a bit but happy to finally be going to school,” you explain. 

“Never too late to do something new,” he remarks. He gestures into the front room. 

“We’ve two common rooms, seeing as there will be six residents. We would like you to have all the amenities as a typical building. You see, this is a pilot program. We’ve a government grant for development of student housing.” 

You nod. You don’t really care about the money behind it but you appreciate his explanation. You’d rather know more than you need to. 

“A sitting area; television, sofas, perfect for a movie night, should you choose to spend a night in.” He lets you look around as he keeps to the wall and waits, “in the next,” he leads you on, “some games. Table tennis. A table should you wish to partake in any other sort of gaming.” 

The place is nice. Everything is brand new and shiny. There’s a shelf of board games by the sleek black table with chairs. The ping pong table has four paddles and there’s a basket of balls on a wall shelf. It’s all arranged so perfectly. 

You carry on into the kitchen. It’s huge. You marvel at the pale blue and black aesthetic, accented in silver and crystal. It’s immaculate. A bit much for college kids. 

“Uh,” you turn to him and twiddle your fingers, “did I read the rent correctly? I don’t know if I can afford this.” 

“Yes, two-hundred plus utilities. As I’ve said, we get a supplement from the government for housing students.” 

“Oh, sure, makes sense,” you sway and look around again. 

“There are a few things to go over, do let me know if you have any questions as we go,” he stands back as you tentatively explore without touching anything. “We’ve continuous security in place. You may see any of our staff on the grounds throughout your day. You will of course be acquainted on move-in. And we have on-site maintenance.” 

You nod as you listen and he takes you back around to the entryway and shows you the bedrooms on the other side of the house, only two down there, four upstairs according to him. He allows you even to peek into the bathroom behind the staircase. 

“Now, before I go through the typical questions, there is one condition I might confirm before wasting your time,” he says. “It was in the application but I do like to double-check these things. You are comfortable with co-ed residence? A mix of boys, girls, and all?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you smile.  

It’s not ideal. You’ve never really lived with men but you can make it work. 

“Splendid, well, how about we go and see the verandah? It is a sunny day and I hate to miss the sunlight, especially as autumn approaches so quickly.” 

“Oh, okay,” you agree and reroute as he directs you with an open hand. “This place is really nice.” 

“Thank you. I’ve overseen the design myself so I will happily accept that praise,” he chuckles as he trails after you. “Oh, you’ve not even seen the garden.” 

As if the flight wasn’t enough, you’re met with an endless wait in line to have your visa and documents checked before you can leave the airport. Even after all that, you’re far from settled. 

You pull out your notebook as the signs bring you down to the underground station. It’s neat that there’s a whole set of tracks right underneath the airport. Everything about this new place is so astounding but scary... 

You check your scribbles and stop at the wall map to confirm the information. Your platform is a little further down. You better hurry! 

You drag your bag behind you as you scurry down the scuzzy concrete, your carry-on bouncing on your shoulder. It won’t be long, you just need to get to the town centre and go from there. You can’t wait to see your room.  

You hope the real thing lives up to the pictures. The man on the video chat seemed honest. He was friendly. Jonathan... or maybe Jaime. Oh! You shouldn’t forget. 

You're out of breath as you reach the train door. It's like it's waiting for you as once you board, the compartment door shuts. You find a seat and keep your suitcase stuffed in front of you. It's already cramped without the luggage.  

You keep an eye on the digital banner near the exit. You won't miss your stop. When it comes, you're the first up and waiting to get off. 

Outside, you're swept up in vertigo. The distance between you and home finally catches up to you. You're really there. All on your own. 

You're shaky as you take out your notebook and your phone. You just need to go around the corner... every twist and turn is written down. From the airport to the station to your residence. 

Your bag rolls and rattles as you go down the next street. You recognise the house from the pictures. The lawns are vibrant and green and the front gate adds a homey touch. 

You stop just outside and scroll through your emails. Jonathan said to call when you got there as he'd have the key for you. You find his number and tap it, your phone popping open the call screen. You wait, there's no answer. Hmmm. 

The sudden roar of a motor and blast of air startles you. You look over the hedges at the man with a leaf blower. He clears the trimmings of the finely-groomed bushes. As you glance over, he spots you and shuts off the gadget. 

You smile, tight-lipped and teetering, as he approaches. It's not Jonathan. This man is much the opposite, burly, bald, and bearded. 

"Can I help ya?" He asks in a drawl. 

"Oh, sorry," you giggle nervously "I must look like a mouse in a swimming pool. I'm looking for Jonathan Pine." 

He tilts his head slightly, a squint as he seems to chew on his thoughts. 

"He's 'round. I can get him for ya. Can I get who's askin'?" 

"Oh, Lulu. I'm supposed to be moving in, sir," you push your shoulders up as another uneasy trill crawls from your throat. 

"Ah, you best come on in," he goes to the gate and unlatches it, "here." As you near, he reaches out and grabs the handle of your rolling bag, "you come far?" 

You let him drag the overpacked suitcase. Your shoulders are killing you. You follow him down the paved walk. 

"Yes, I flew in. From overseas," you answer. 

"Shoulda known. You sound like him." 

You laugh again. Your accent is not as refined as Jonathan's but certainly is nothing close to the local one either. 

"Name's Sy, I fix this place up and all. Do the garden, unclog the sink," you stops at the door and sets your bag to stand on it's own. "I'll get Jon for ya." 

You nod and he disappears through the front door. You sway as you peer around. The place is amazing. The facade is just as gleaming as the advert and the gardens are lovely. You've always liked oak trees and you're sure the leaves will be a beautiful shade of copper once the seasons change. 

The door opens again and startles you back to the present. You look up as Sy dips his chin in your direction and keeps the door open. A familiar face emerges and a tiny bit of pressure lifts off your chest. You're definitely in the right place.  

"A pleasure to finally meet in person," Jonathan offers his hand. You shake it and a giggle crackles in your throat, the habit harder to suppress as your stress mounts. "I am glad that you made it and I trust you had a safe journey?" 

"Oh, yes, sir, yes," you answer, "thanks." 

"Sy," he glances at the other man who promptly retreats. 

"Well then, please, let us get you set. You are the first to arrive. Of course, there is no trouble accommodating you early given the circumstances. Such a far way to travel. You must be terribly tired." 

"Oh, a little, but excited too." You go to grab your suitcase but he's much quicker.  

He directs you in first and follows as he rolls your bag with him. 

"I've put you upstairs but if the first floor is preferable, we can rearrange," he explains. 

"Upstairs is fine!" You squeak in a tone higher than your usual tenor. 

"Ah, I recall my first time abroad myself, it was surely nerve-racking. Don't be shy, eh, it does help to have someone who understands the plight, hm?" 

"Thank you, sir. Yes, it's... it's all so new." 

"Mm, you needn't call me sir, Jonathan is fine enough," he insists as you begin up the stairs. "Perhaps you won't feel so out of place once the others come." 

[taisoleil]

Saturn and Ancestors through the Houses

First off, Saturn is an elder. It brings upon lessons, but did you know that those blockages are actually coming from some things your ancestors already experienced? This is the “been there, done that” planet that already knows the pain you’re going through? Why so? Because pain and trauma, which is Saturnian in nature, is carried this way. To understand this we must understand what is a natal chart in the first place.

I got this piece inspiration awhile back from someone on tumblr talking about how our chart are how our parent felt about our birth and what they were experiencing. This information helps us understand not only ourselves, but them. So, why can’t we understand our ancestors through this very system? Saturn is also ruled by time where with wisdom, should come time.

Timelines aren’t as straightforward as you may think. This is why Saturn does so well in the 12H is because of the ability to understand how much time (Saturn) can be an illusion (12H). This is also why your past, current, and future life are all happening at the same time, and why you are your ancestors, and how they live within you. When you reminisce about trauma from the past it’s as if you’re living it in your present moment because of that timelines overlapping.

Saturn really deals with the ancestral trauma and generational curses we all deal with. This may not be something you’ve felt from family, but something you may even be carrying with you due to your lineage. There’s a lot of people in your bloodline, so you never know what you’re carrying until you ask or check in with yourself. More than likely, your family members have been through the same thing.

This post is archived on my site here: https://www.taisoleil.com/articles/2021/6/11/d9mj0oemzek40itx9fonl3cdtblpnw

Full interpretations are exclusively on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/87216320?utm_campaign=postshare_creator

Saturn 1H: One may have felt like they weren’t good enough when it comes to family. A generational issue you may be dealing with is linked with the insecurity of not being enough.

Saturn 2H: Feeling financially held back and traumatized is something you may experience when it comes to your family. You may have an issue with trauma bonding when it comes to money because of the fear of losing it all.

Saturn 3H: Feeling like your ideas were never enough probably caused you to second guess your own abilities. Being able to learn and refine your ideas based on how life shifts is how you evolve. The slightest bit of disappointment shouldn’t shake that.

Saturn 4H: Not being able to have you to yourself may have been a problem. Being forced to grow up early to deal with adult life before you were even ready was probably a thing as well. This is a situation where you had higher standards projected on you than other people.

Saturn 5H: FUN??? In your household??? Probably not! You probably were told to pursue something more serious and steady, possibly stripping you or your own creativity. It probably is hard for you to get out of black and white thinking because you were told if it doesn’t make sense, it cannot possibly be valuable.

Saturn 6H: Speaking of work, aren’t y’all tired of doing that? Having to prove yourself based on how much you do isn’t doing much for you at all. You may have come from a family that is used to breaking their backs to maintain something only to get caught in a rat race they can’t get themselves out of.

Saturn 7H: Learning how to keep the right bonds may be important for you. As with anything in life, some bonds aren’t worth the energy based on the time we spend with people. Giving that many people that sort of lenience is a disservice to yourself.

Saturn 8H: Spending habits are going to be key from you. You may have been a family that was scared that you would miss out on something if you didn’t spend. The contrary to this is that even though money may have not been lost, in your day and age, every penny counts, and you weren’t taught frugality during an economic time where money was more available.

Saturn 9H: Don’t be afraid of new experiences. You may came from a family that didn’t do much. Didn’t venture out or try new things. Because of this, you may stay in your bubble or level of comfort zone that allows you the safety. The Sun finds joy in the 9H, and it can be an ego killer to find out you’ve been wrong about certain things.

Saturn 10H: High expectations can cause you to fold under pressure if you’re not careful. You may have come from a family that was expected of you to do everything even if that means forsaking what seemed to be unimportant.

Saturn 11H: Friendship and aspirations may be hard for you. Your family may have had terrible community/support/friends. People bringing you down is only going to regress your further if you’re not careful.

Saturn 12H: Your Saturn is in joy here. You may understand how to go about things better than others. Your ancestors may have figured it all out, and gave you the keys. Moving through your life, don’t doubt what you know. Instead, think more about what you can do with what you’ve learned.

[cowgurrrl]

It Ain't Me Babe

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️

Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??

Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.

Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester. 

"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her. 

You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text. 

You awake?

You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work. 

"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background. 

"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"

"I'm staring at my waking nightmare." 

"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?" 

"I'm a hack."

"You're an artist."

"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."

"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk. 

"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."

"Hey, some of us like that shithole."

"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years." 

"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."

"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.

"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."

"Sounds reasonable." 

"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.

"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school." 

"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed. 

The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine. 

The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.

"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz. 

"I think so. Are you gonna play music?" 

"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.

Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.

"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says. 

"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.

"How'd you like the club?" You ask. 

"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."

"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least. 

"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me." 

"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing." 

"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need. 

"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head. 

"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.

"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "

"What's in Boston for your sister?"

"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."

"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums. 

"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little. 

"Do you miss her?"

"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."

"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic. 

He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look. 

"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off. 

"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say. 

"How'd she do today?"

"Really good. I think she fits right in."

"She make some friends?"

"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease. 

"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."

"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night." 

"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."

"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?

"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."

"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again. 

"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket. 

"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information. 

"It's for emergency purposes only."

"What d'you consider an emergency?"

"Mr. Miller-"

"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back. 

"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."

"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window. 

"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.

"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)

[mugloversonly]

Impulse Buy

June Prompt "Stuff"| WC: 483 :Gen @steddiemicrofic

That one scene from Modern Family influenced this

Eddie walked through the front door and called out “Steve? You home sweetheart?” He toed off his shoes and walked further in. In the kitchen he heard a mad shuffle followed by cursing. He smirked and headed that way.

Steve leaning on the counter and Eleven sitting on the counter both trying to look as normal as possible. “Hey Eds! Didn’t hear you come in.” Steve said with a forced smile.

“Yeah, just got back from work.” He said leaning against the door frame. “Did you end up going to Target?” Steve stiffened. Bingo.

“Yes, El and I went.”

“Did you stick to the list I gave you?” Eddie asked knowing full well he didn’t.

“Yes.” Steve scoffed and crossed his arms. Eddie narrowed his eyes and turned to Eleven.

“Ellie, did Steve stick to the list?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes.” She said simply and started putting the dishes away with her powers. Steve slapped the counter top.

“I told you.” He said indigently.

“You’re right, sorry. I should have trusted you.” Eddie said and went to give him an apology kiss. Before he could, El spoke up.

“He had two lists.” She ignored Steve’s noise of betrayal. “The list you gave him, and a second list.” At this Eddie glanced at Steve and saw him tomato red.

“What did it say?” Steve pleaded for El not to tell him.

“Friends don’t lie. It said ‘all the stuff we want’.” Steve pursed his lips and sheepishly smiled at Eddie.

“Show me.” Eddie demanded. Steve hung his head and shambled to the spare room. He swung open the door and Eddie stepped in and gasped in shock. Eddie rubbed his hands on his face. “Why?”

There on the bed was a huge Lego Star Wars Death Star Set. “You like Star Wars!” Steve defended.

“How much was it?” Eddie was doing his best to stay calm.

“$400…” Steve mumbled. Eddie’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“Get rid of it before I do.” Eddie threatened as he walked out of the room and took Eleven home.

When he came back Steve was staring dejectedly at the unopened box. “Do I have to return it?” He asked. Eddie sighed.

“Not if you really want it, love. It’s just…” Eddie paused. “You’re always buying stuff we don’t need $400 gone…” He looked at his hands and fiddled with his rings. “That’s rent money you know?”

Steve was an idiot. He forgot that Eddie grew up financially insecure. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” He tilted his chin and met his eyes. “I’ll be better at sticking to the list okay?” Eddie’s lips quirked up.

“Thank you Stevie.” He said. Steve kissed him.

“No need to thank me.” He replied. Deciding to change the subject, “I can’t believe Eleven ratted on me so fast.” Eddie threw his head back and cackled.

ao3

[uriekukistan]

hiii i wanted to reiterate my participation in the @ficsforgaza initiative, since it's been a while since i mentioned it, and i have a few new wips :D for more information on how to participate as reader, or as a writer, you can visit this post!

how it works: in exchange for donations to vetted fundraisers, i will write at a rate of 100 words per $1. as a reader, you can either choose to "sponsor" one of my current wips/ideas, or you can make a request! please send screenshotted proof with your personal info blocked out.

even if you aren't interested in sponsoring my writing, please consider donating to one of the fundraisers anyway, if you're financially able!

SPONSOR A WIP!

send proof of donation along with which fic you'd like to sponsor :)

untitled megumi/itafushi psychological horror fic (Jujutsu Kaisen) : In the aftermath of the events at the detention center, Megumi struggles with his grief and controlling his own technique as the lines between fantasy & reality blur. - 0/9,000 (anticipated) sponsored / 5,000/9,000 written

forget-me-not (Jujutsu Kaisen, No Curse/Reincarnation AU, Tattoo Artist x Florist, Itafushi) : Megumi stumbles upon Yuuji's flower shop by chance and wonders why he looks so familiar. Then the dreams start. - 0/25,000 (anticipated) sponsored / 2,000/25,000 written

the imposter (Jujutsu Kaisen, Geto character study with a side of Satosugu) : Suguru goes from "weird and possibly mentally ill freak" to one of the most powerful modern sorcerers overnight and struggles to manage the implications. OR a study of insecurity and imposter syndrome through the life of Suguru Geto. - 0/15,000 (anticipated) sponsored / 600/15,000 written

ShokoHime x 5 + 1 Times (Jujutsu Kaisen) : 5 times Utahime wanted to confess to Shoko, and one time she actually did. - 0/18,000 (anticipated) sponsored / 0/18,000 written

untitled heian sorcerers in a modern college au (Jujutsu Kaisen, Crack Treated Seriously) : Mad scientist by day, party girl by night, Kenjaku is used to getting what they want. What happens when they meet the one person that won't cave to their manipulation tactics, the mysterious campus drug dealer, Sukuna? - 0/15,000 (anticipated) sponsored / 2,500/15,000 written

MAKE A REQUEST!

please note that i am only taking requests through august 21 because i will be returning to full time university. send proof of donation along with an outline of your request!

i will write for jujutsu kaisen, tokyo ghoul, or death note.

open for fics or headcanon requests (my hcs tend to be long & more like mini-fics (example), so will do a rate of $3/5 hcs).

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capping requests at 2.0k words/$20 donation

my ao3 so you can get a feel for my writing

[ninapi]

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Family ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Raising someone else's child is one thing, but raising your own while dealing with your insecurities could be quite a task, especially for a man like Satoru, but the moment he saw the baby his life turned upside down.

Word Count: 3104

Note: This is the third installment for a short series of mine, they all have different titles because I'm weird like that lol, but you can read the first part here, and the second one here.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

When Satoru took Megumi in, he didn’t have to do much besides giving him financial support and make sure he had everything he needed as a growing child.

He was already the person he is to this day, and Saturu had very little to add to this. So when he realized what having his own baby was going to be, his already existing demons started to kick in.

While is normally the mother the one who tends to spiral into despair thinking of the future of their newborn and the changes impacting daily life, Satoru had more than one reason to feel uneasy.

He loved his girl and his unborn child, there was no doubt there; but the implications of being a parent were heavy for a man like him.

Dealing with the elders was one thing, but being a good dad was a very different one.

All he was good at was fighting curses, that’s what he came to this world to do, but having to think of how to be a good dad was definitely more scary than a special grade curse.

Megumi was way more ready than he was, in fact, without Megumi your pregnancy would have been quite the nightmare. But he was always checking up on you, helping you with tidying the apartment, even took you to the hospital check ups and went in the doctor’s office with you.

Some even thought he was your son, to Megumi’s displeasure. 

Satoru on the other hand tended to flee when things like this came upon, excuses were easy to come by when you’re the strongest sorcerer. But in reality he was beating himself over and over again for his own behavior while sitting on a cliff.

He wanted this, he wanted to be with you, wanted to have a family with you. Or so he thought at first, but what does it even mean to have a family? His was anything but conventional and he had no idea where to start.

You were his life now, he didn’t care about the future of this world if he was being honest, he never did really, all he wanted was to take you to a Polynesian island and live in a fancy luxury tree house with you, the baby and Megumi. But life wasn’t as easy, he had to deal not just with the damn old men hunting his every step, but also his responsibilities in the school, he couldn’t just disappear, not with another teacher and a top tier student tagging along.

He wanted to do better, be a good husband, a good dad, not just to his baby but to Megumi as well, he felt like he’s been failing everyone he truly cares for and that was a feeling like no other, one he could live his entire life without encountering it ever again.

But time for cowarding around ended sooner than he expected as time runs extremely fast when you don’t want to deal with your problems.

He got a call from Megumi, he was at the hospital, water came out of you and you were tugging on his hair while screaming in pain, you were certainly dying so he had to come fast. It all sounded like a nightmare to Satoru, he truly thought you were dying, he’s never seen a pregnant woman on the later stage of pregnancy deal with it, and Megumi either, so they were both panicking on a bench this very same moment.

“I can’t lose her, Megumi…what am I going to do if she dies? What if the baby dies too? What if I have to raise the baby on my own? I can’t do this…I would rather be killed by a curse…maybe I should turn off my infinity…yes, someone would come and kill me as well, then we would all die together…” a loud smack could be heard rumbling over every wall of the hospital. He’s never seen Megumi this angry before, “Can you stop and be a god damn adult for once in your life? (Y/N) needs you. She’s in labor right now, delivering your baby! She’s in so much pain, things are coming out of her, she’s probably so scared right now, and all you’re thinking about are ways of getting yourself killed!”

Satoru’s cheek was quickly getting red and swollen, how did he even manage to touch him that easily? 

Zenin’s are truly a terrifying clan.

“Why does nobody care about me being scared? I can be scared too you know? I know I’m the strongest sorcerer, but that doesn’t make me the strongest husband or the strongest dad…”

Megumi was left speechless, he never thought the great Gojo Satoru would admit being scared, “Do you think I’m not scared? I love her ok? She might be your girl, the mother of your child and what not, but she isn’t just a crush to me, she’s also the only mother figure I’ve had, the only person who truly understands me and cares for me. I don’t want her to die!” tears were falling down Megumi’s cheeks as he vented all his worries out of his very constricted chest. He’s the one who’s been by your side during your whole pregnancy, what if this was his fault? What if you were in so much pain because he didn’t take good care of you? Those words kept flooding his head and Satoru was just as lost as he was in that moment, he didn’t know how to reassure his adoptive son and was in need of reassurance himself.

That was until loud cries could be heard coming from the room you were being kept in.

“What was that-“

Megumi’s ears perked, he couldn’t hear you at all, why was it so loud, he needed to confirm you were fine. “I don’t know, who’s crying? That’s not her, I’m sure…”

“Of course is not her, you idiot…” the door opened up to a very tired looking nurse, her gown was covered in what looks like blood wiped out not long ago, Satoru’s face paling the moment he saw her.

“Is…I-Is (Y/N)…” his voice was cracking, all his memories with you going into his brain like a movie.

“She’s fine, she’s currently holding your son, would you like to go in? She’s asking for Megumi, I assume that’s you?” 

“No, that’s me! Can I go in too then?” the nurse was very confused but nodded anyways. Megumi ran inside the room, falling down to his knees when he saw you smiling, holding a little bundle to your chest, “Oh thank god….” 

“Gumi, my love, come meet your baby brother!” you looked so tired, yet so happy, he thought he’d never get to see your beautiful smile ever again.

“Are you ok? Is the pain gone?”

“She’s fine kid, giving birth is no easy fit, hope this experience helps you respect women for what their worth. Men would never be able to give birth, they’d die within minutes.” the nurse’s words made you chuckle, it was true after all, especially for your spoiled boys.

“Toru? I didn’t know you were here, I thought you were at work! Come meet your son~” Satoru was still by the door, he thought he’d lost you, the very same feeling he felt that one day you almost die in front of his eyes, just that this time felt even more real as he saw the dried blood on the nurse. He didn’t know how to react, relief was present that’s for sure, but he was also terrified, he was happy to hear you were fine, but you were holding his son right this moment. He had a son now, officially, he is a dad now.

“Babe?” the confused look in your face made him move from his spot, he couldn’t put more stress on you, not after you had to deal with all that just to bring his son to this world.

“So a boy, huh? I thought it’d be a girl…” Megumi really wanted the baby to be a girl, to look just like you so he could snuggle the baby’s cute cheeks and spoil her rotten.

“Mhm, I haven’t named him yet, I wanted Toru to see him first…” Satoru was now standing beside you, his eyes not going down just yet, though his range of vision was so wide, he could see a tiny hand moving out and about and it made it so hard for him to keep ignoring him.

Once he finally got the courage to look at his son, his brain released a triple shot of dopamine right to his heart.

How can a newborn be this cute? They’re usually all red and wrinkly, not at all pretty. But his son…he got his blue eyes and silvery hair, but his face, he looked just like you. The cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Is he…” the moment he opened his mouth the baby started wailing loudly, startling his father.

You were rocking the baby from side to side making him know everything was fine, “Sweetie, c’mon hold your son.” 

“But he’s crying (Y/N)! How do I make it stop?” you set the child in his arms, once their eyes met the baby stopped crying, a lil yawn leaving his lips, this causing Satoru to smile. “Oh, I think he’s just tired…aren’t you my beautiful son?”

“It’s a combined effort of both sides after all, he did have to help mama a lot during the birthing process.” The nurse was finally ready to leave you to rest and needed to take the child with her. “He needs to come with me, Gojo-san. But I need a name so I can set him in the room with the other newborns.”

“I was thinking of naming him Suguru…you know…to honor your frie-“

“No.”

“But baby…”

“I said no.” his stern tone of voice made your heart sink, you thought he’d be happy about this, it was some sort of a surprise even.

Megumi saw darkness loom over Satoru’s eyes and thought of intervening. “Shion.”

“What was that, love?” 

“Shion, my brother’s name I mean..” the fact that he referred to the baby as his brother made you feel so much love, even Satoru’s face softened at his words.

“Gojo Shion it is then.” the nurse took the baby from Satoru’s arm and he’s never felt this empty before. “Do you really need to take him? I mean he’s a newborn, is not like he needs friends right now. Wouldn’t it be better for him to hang out with his family than with other babies?” his reasoning was beyond cute, even to the stoic nurse. 

“Look sir, the child isn’t going to a baby party, he needs a check up and that’s the process in general. If everything goes out well you’ll be able to take them home in a couple of days. Now if you excuse me..” The baby was half asleep and his little hand was out of the blanket still and Satoru felt like his life lost all purpose, his son needed him so much right now, he needed to be tucked cozily under his blanket and there was nothing he could do to help him…he felt completely useless…

Megumi was cleaning your face with a wet towel, making sure your pillow was all fluffed properly, while Satoru spiraled into sadness.

“Can you get the blanket in her baby bag? There’s also some warm socks in the front pocket.” 

Satoru could feel Megumi’s murderous stare and that made him go back to earth, “Yeah sure. Socks…socks…here.” 

Megumi just stared at his hand with so much hate, yet he didn’t know what he did wrong this time. “What?”

“(Y/N)’s socks, not the baby’s socks…”

“Oh! Right…” he needed to get himself together, you needed him just as much as his son did.

“Here, my love.” he got your feet covered with your favorite fluffy socks, then leaned to kiss your head lovingly. Megumi covered you with the blanket he brought for you and went over the snacks he packed to replenish your strength.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?” you sounded so tired, exhausted even, but to him you were the most wonderful and beautiful women in this universe. The mother of his son.

“Of course he is, he’s my son~” that made you chuckle. 

“We are parents now…how does that make you feel, Toru?” that question hunted him for months, but now he was ready to answer it truthfully. “I’m scared…I don’t know if I can be a good dad…But I’m also the happiest man alive…you’ve given me so much…I want to be the man you and my son need me to be…” his face wasn’t one of happiness, it was more one of realization. 

He felt so much…it was overwhelming. 

But the moment he locked eyes with his son, he just knew it, this was it, this was the real reason he came to this world, to bring his son to life, to give you and his son a happy life full of beautiful memories.

“Gojo-sensei…I think she needs rest…” you were giving him a soft loving smile, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand while he processed what just happened. 

“I’ll stay here, you go back to the school.” he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most, when you were confused and in pain, when you needed his love and care. But he was here now, and he wouldn’t let that happen again. 

He grabbed one of the chairs by the wall and brought it next to your bed, his hand reaching for yours once more before dimming the lights, “I’ll stay here with you, baby. Just rest.”

Megumi left after making sure you had everything you needed with the promise of coming back next morning with a fresh change of clothing for his guardian.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Having a newborn baby in the house was a whole adventure, at least according to Satoru.

He had to learn everything about babies in a couple of days and lets just say books aren’t as reliable in the subject.

Babies cry a lot and figuring out what the problem was isn’t as easy as he had hoped for.

Not only that but your nipples were sore from breastfeeding causing you to frown all day, Megumi was in a bad mood because the baby didn’t let him sleep at night and he ended up stepping on a dirty diaper this morning, twice, barefoot.

While to others this might sound awful, Satoru was living his best life.

His son was just as in love with him as he was and he was livid. Putting him to bed was his self assigned job and his favorite part of the day. He’d go on talking forever explaining how his technique works and all he had to do to perfect it, of course his son didn’t understand a thing, but his voice really soothed the child so they both loved their bonding time.

Megumi would sneak in your room and sleep while hugging one of your legs while Satoru took the child out to get some sunlight in, even if he denied it, he was very much jealous of his baby brother, he just didn’t get as much time with you as before and he had no excuses to be babied like the infant was now. He wanted more and didn’t know how to ask for it, so even if you and Satoru were aware of his sneaky nap times, you both appeared ignorant to the teen.

Being a mother suited you so beautifully though, there was nothing Satoru loved more than seeing you with his son in your arms. The way your loving eyes landed on his little face, the kissy sounds you made at him to make him giggle, it was all just so perfect to him.

And being a father suited him just as much. The baby carrier he had hanging from his chest daily and the way he would always hold one of his tiny feet in one of his hands as he walked by proudly was the cutest thing this world had to offer. 

He was a happy man.

Of course, him parading around with his child made the elders realize what was going on pretty fast.

Thankfully the child didn’t display any sign of inheriting infinity, at least not yet, something he had shown almost since birth, which made them back off quite fast with the promise of him trying to conceive further children with you.

Of course, he didn’t want this. Not because he didn’t want more babies, but because it terrified him knowing one of them could very well have it and be taken away from you. The thought of his son being exploited the way he was as a child was a constant nightmare for him.

But reality plays dirty tricks on you when you least expect them..

You being such a cute mama and having those swollen breasts full of milk caused…unexpected results…getting you pregnant once more before Shion even turned four months of age.

For someone who didn’t understand the concept of family, he was quite good at making one.

His first family member being the lovely teenage boy who loved the mother of his children more than anything in this world, more than him to be quite honest. But he regretted nothing, Megumi was as important in this family as little Shion was and the little baby girl inside your growing belly.

The family kept growing at an exponential rate, and this world was anything but safe. But having the strongest sorcerer by your side did help quite a lot, specially now that he’d gotten the titles of strongest dad and strongest husband to the list as he very much wished and thought never would.

His family was not conventional, it was broken even, starting with him.

But it was perfect the way it was.

He chose his own family after all.

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Masterlist

[binniebakery]

🇦​​🇧​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇭​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇺​​🇷​​🇦​​🇳​​🇹​🥡

Non Idol AU Ex!Yeonjun x Gn!Reader, Angst ♡Warnings: no happy ending, not proofread, cursing, I'm almost 90% this is gender neutral but if there is a mistake please let me know! ♡A/N: im so sorry this took forever to come out gfdgjhksd but its here! since this is my first time writing angst I'm not sure how i feel about this one but.. that's me with all my yeonjun fics... lmfao enjoy

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Above the Chinese Restaurant" By Laufey 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Don't Let Me Go" By Cigarettes After Sex

0:09 ━●────────── 3:43 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

——-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹——-

There you lay in the quiet solitude of your dimly lit room. The only source of light being the soft glow of your bedside lamp and a candle that smelled of sandalwood and something oddly familiar.

The outside world remained silent, a contrast to the buzzing thoughts that swarmed your mind. Your new apartment was quiet, lonely, and grey. It was nights like these that had you reminiscing those warm summer days you spent in the city.

Glancing over at the nearest window, you find yourself in a moment of deja vu. You’ve been here before– in this position looking outside as you lay in bed.

Except this time you weren’t waiting for anyone, it was just you and the sound of your ticking clock as the arms slowly moved to the next hour.

Time always seems to go by quicker than you can notice.

Your mind wanders back through the corridors of your memories as you clutch the soft fabric of your comforter. You let out a deep sigh as you find yourself reliving those memories again.

It’s cozy, you have a wonderful view of the greenery outside, it’s spacious, it’s a safe neighborhood, and your apartment is brand new. All of this and you would think ‘how could anyone ask for more?’

You realize it all fails in comparison to those distant memories. It's quite foggy really, you can’t really remember them too well leaving you pondering if so much time had really slipped away from you.

Just like he did

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

July 8th, Summer.

You and Yeonjun were simply young and dumb. At least that's what your parents would always say. Two ambitious individuals who found each other at a time when it seemed like the world was against you both.

Your families were against you moving into the city, but you were both young and desperate to start a new life together. It took weeks of couch surfing but despite the financial issues, you both managed to find that small apartment right above that old, run-down Chinese restaurant.

That summer the whole neighborhood spoke of the new young couple moving in, though you two paid no mind. Yeonjun enjoyed the attention and you were willing to endure anything as long as nobody spoke ill of either of you.

You remember Yeonjun’s small car lugging your belongings up the hill, and the minute you two arrive he’s opening the passenger door and pulling you into a hug.

He’s spinning you around and you’ve never felt happier. The summer heat burned down and your skin had tanned an awful lot, causing you to feel insecure about the obscure tan lines you modeled.

Of course, Yeonjun complimented you to the moon and back, kissing every bit of skin while his own was left sunburned. He always made you feel special no matter the occasion.

This moment was no less different, that bright, toothy grin of his as he clumsily plops down to lay with you on your shared futon.

“Got a gig next week, gonna earn so much too, I’ll buy you dinner every day for the next month!” Your boyfriend exclaims with his arms in the air.

You laugh at his expressive antics, leaning towards him to pull him in for a tight embrace.

“Don’t worry about that jjunie, I don’t need fancy dinners from you.”

“But I wanna,” he pouts “I gotta do something to make up for you working so hard!”

“Alright but nothing too expensive, we should be saving up..” You raise an eyebrow as Yeonjun makes himself comfortable laying his head in your lap.

“Mm, we’ll see” he chuckles and despite him burying his face into your thighs you can see the way his grin grows ever-so wider.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

While Yeonjun chased his dream of being the biggest rockstar the world had ever known, you worked as a dishwasher just downstairs and occasionally picked up any odd jobs you could find when you had the time.

You didn’t mind being the breadwinner– after all, you were content just being by your lover's side.

Yeonjun would come home in the early hours of the morning, returning from his latest gig that his small band managed to grab.

He’d quietly push open the door to your apartment, he'd set his guitar down with care on the floor and slip off his boots as silently as he could manage, mindful not to disturb your sleep after a long day of work.

He was always a gentleman, slipping beneath the covers beside you and gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as a silent apology for the missed "goodnight" texts he always promised to send but always ended up being too busy with his performances.

Your life with him wasn’t perfect, but regardless you had everything you could ever need.

It didn’t matter that the water always ran cold during the winter, the lack of heat or cool air circulation, the thin walls and loud neighbors, the constant sound of sirens running through the streets at night, or even the unstoppable growing mold in the corner of your bathroom.

You two were happy regardless of the trials this life had brought you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

September 30th, Fall

You’re clutching that same old soft comforter, except this time echoes of soft laughter and plates clinking could be heard bouncing off the thin walls of your humble apartment.

Yeonjun lights the candle he had just bought, the scent of sandalwood filling the air as he finds his way to you.

“If you listen closely you can hear Mr. Wang snoring” Yeonjun whispers as he snuggles closer to your shaking form in an attempt to warm you both.

You toss another dumpling into your mouth and grin.

“Sometimes I wish that was all we heard at night. I don’t know how much longer I can stand his bed creaking on Fridays..” You snicker and that was all it took for your boyfriend to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Shhh! My love please!” You whisper loudly as you lean over your shared futon to cover his mouth.

Yeonjun holds back tears as he attempts to regain composure. You grab a dumpling from your plate and shove it into his mouth.

Your boyfriend happily munches as you sigh, a wide smile on your face despite wanting to be annoyed. “You think the restaurant will give us more if I head back down?” He looks down at his empty plate, stomach rumbling and his eyes look back at you. His face resembled a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, guilty look on his face.

You find yourself giggling at how cute he looks, hand reaching to gently caress his cheek. Yeonjun smiles and lets the food in his mouth peek out slightly.

“Aw jjunie thats gross!” You laugh, pushing him away.

Yeonjun laughs as well, cheekbones popping out in all their glory from the way his smile extends impossibly more and you feel yourself falling even more impossibly in love.

That ends up being how the both of you spend the rest of your night, attempting to remain silent so as not to get another noise complaint. Sharing jokes and silent tickle fights, the perfect distraction against the autumn weather.

If only your nights stayed like this forever.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

February 22nd or 23rd? You could never really remember the date.

Despite winter soon making it’s leave, you stay stuck inside the restaurant building with Yeonjun as the winter storm still roars on outside.

“Jjunie! I’m home!” You chirp as you open the door to your apartment.

Yeonjun looks up from his phone, laying on the worn couch you had both found on someone’s lawn with a sign that said ‘please take’. Despite your sour look Yeonjun somehow managed to convince you both to take it “looks like it’s still in good condition to me” he awkwardly smiled as he wiped off the remaining dust. 

You shake your head smiling at the memory.

“Hey, you. How was work?” He smiles and pats the empty spot next to him for you to sit.

“Same old, but it wasn’t that busy today. I even managed to take a nap in the freezer before Mr Wang noticed me.” You grinned.

Yeonjun lets out a chuckle and you crawl into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.

He opens the blanket he was currently wrapped in and invites you in to join him in his little burrito.

You bury your face into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent you grew to love. Yeonjun places a hand on your back and rubs small circles as he plants a kiss on your hairline.

“Hey, I know that you’ve been out a lot. You know– busy with band stuff, but do you think you could maybe get a small side gig to help us out?” You looked at him with a nervous smile.

You knew Yeonjun took his band career seriously. He did everything he could to help, taking any small gig he and his bandmates could find. But most of the time it just felt like it wasn’t enough to pay the bills.

“Baby… we talked about this before.. You know I–” 

Before Yeonjun can finish his response, your conversation gets interrupted.

Creak

“What the–”

“Is that the roof?” Yeonjun squints his eyes as he looks at the wooden planks above him. You both sit in silence staring upwards, waiting for the odd sound to play again.

Nothing.

“Huh..” You lift yourself off your boyfriend and stand in the middle of your tiny living room, eyes still concentrated on trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

..Creak…

“Ah shit–! Y/n look out!” Yeonjun jumps off the couch and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him as part of your roof collapses right on top of the spot you were standing on. A fresh blanket of snow pouring in.

“Holy fuck, fuck fuck fuck–”

“Y/n are you okay?! Did you get hurt?!” His hands grab your face and his eyes are scanning for any injuries.

“I- I’m fine but our roof just fucking caved in!??! Shit, I could have been crushed!” Your jaw was practically dropped at the situation.

Yeonjun pulls away and walks towards the pile of wood and snow to assess the damage.

And as if right on cue, another fresh blanket of snow falls right on top of him. “AH!” Yeonjun yells, shaking off the remaining snow sitting on his head.

“Stupid fucking roof! I hate this damn apartment, not only do we not have any heat but we don’t even have a roof!”

“Pffft–!”

Yeonjun looks over and sees your face almost red, doubled over as you tried your best to keep in your laughter and he can’t help but feel his anger dissipate at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you laugh or smile like this in a while.

“You–! you look so stupid right now– I’m sorry!” You breathe out, falling on the couch as you let out a heavy laugh.

Your boyfriend beams, seeing you like this was better than any blanket or heater. His heart skips as you pull him in to lightly dust off the remaining snow.

So what if it took half of your savings jar and Yeonjun sacrificing almost a whole night of sleep to fix the roof? Every penny and splinter was worth seeing that priceless smile of yours.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

April 3rd, Spring. After two weeks of nonstop work, you finally had a day off the same day Yeonjun was home for the day.

You took the opportunity to splurge and eat in. You put on your favorite movie as you folded both of your laundry, Yeonjun making comments every now and then, pausing to get up and check on the stew you were making.

You found yourself wishing your days were like this more often. You knew he was busy and you respected that he wanted to chase his dreams, and who were you to get in the way of that?

Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun had been silent the last few minutes.

Suddenly, you feel his figure scoot behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “One day I’m gonna make enough money for us to get out of this dump.” He mumbles into your neck.

“Huh?” You looked up from the pile of clothing that you were attending to.

“You heard me, I’m gonna make it big. The day that I do, I’m gonna buy you brand new clothes, a cute dog, we’re gonna live in a mansion, and then get married.”

Your face flushes and you smile. This was the first time Yeonjun had ever mentioned marriage to you.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, gonna be the biggest star this world will ever know. My face is gonna be plastered on every billboard. Then, we’ll have kids.. and then when I’m too old to perform, we’re gonna be so rich you’ll never have to work another day in your life” he grins.

“Feeling a little ambitious are we?” You giggle, raising an arm to pat his head. His hair felt soft, it had been so long since you ran your fingers through it. You find yourself closing your eyes as you begin to imagine your ideal future.

“Say whatever you want. It’s gonna happen!” Yeonjun raises a fist in the air, as if giving a speech to a crowd and you feel as if you couldn’t have been more in love with him in that moment.

One day, he’s gonna be in front of a real crowd, the largest one he’s ever seen, and you swear you’ll be front row cheering him on.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

May 16th, Spring.

You throw his bag down in frustration. “So this entire fucking time you were just going out and having fun? Drinking with your bandmates while I’m here working my ass off trying to keep a roof over our heads?!”

Yeonjun sighs and grits his teeth.

“No. I’m not just going out and having fun. Yes, I admit! Sometimes we’re out of luck and Soobin can’t get us a fucking gig. We go to a place and have a few drinks to destress, but I promise you I am trying my hardest! I do everything I can to get a shitty gig, I hang out with other douchebag bands so we can get connections y/n! Con-nec-tions! You ever fucking heard of that?!”

Another argument, the 4th night in a row.

This time you were cleaning around the apartment, finding Yeonjun’s bag as he took his shower before heading out for the evening to meet with his bandmates. ‘A huge meeting talking about an upcoming event they’re going to perform at’ he claimed.

You open his bag, knowing that he’d appreciate you cleaning up the trash he had inside. He trusted that you wouldn’t toss any of his half-written lyrics or important documents anyway.

That’s when you see it, three– no four– crumble receipts inside the inner pocket. You unscramble them to see they’re all charges from bars. Not just the same one, but multiple, containing only large orders of alcoholic drinks with the occasional snack to go along.

Anger consumes you before you think rationally, and as Yeonjun walks out of the shower with just a towel around his waist shaking his wet black hair, you shove the receipts in his face.

After minutes of back and forth, the tension grows immensely thicker. And before you both even notice, it all turns into a yelling match. 

He explains that it’s due to him not being able to find proper gigs as of recently, and how drinking will destress him, going off on a rant about how it’s normal in the industry to drink with managers and other bands to get a good rep. “Do you even fucking care about us!? We live in a dump! I had to call someone to fix our dishwasher three times last month! What if I get fired or laid off? We’re just gonna live on the fucking streets?! Be realistic Yeonjun! Be fucking realistic!”

“Maybe the issue is you don’t care y/n.. You just don’t understand that I’m serious! I’m taking this shit all seriously! I’m sorry I can’t find a proper job right now, but I need just more time.. And if you can’t respect my dream then honestly.. Maybe I should just fucking go right now for good.”

You couldn’t even respond. The tears in your eyes began to drip down and Yeonjun could only watch as your eyebrows furrow more, face scrunching up in an attempt to hide the frustration you were feeling.

He knew you hated crying, especially in front of him.

Had your eye bags always been so deep?

Yeonjun’s lips part and you hear his breath hitch the second it all starts crashing down on him. 

He stares at how disheveled your hair is. The way your skin looked so pale and almost blue under the dim light of the moon from your opened blinds. He remembers the way he used to kiss up your sunkissed arm the first few months you both moved into your tiny apartment. Letting the sun shine through the windows as you both danced slowly to whatever bossanova song played through your vintage radio.

Those first few months of summer were golden. They were warm like your skin on his when he woke up in the morning to you with his arms wrapped around your waist. Now your skin looked cold, dull, and you looked stretched thin.

How could he have just noticed all this? He was living with you the whole time.

In reality, he stopped being present a long time ago.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

The following days Yeonjun was nowhere to be seen.

You cried every day, constantly looking over to the door to see if he would just waltz in, big grin as he held a golden contract to a label over your head. You glanced over at the couch often, expecting your lover to be sitting as usual on his phone or hunched over writing whatever lyrics he could muster.

You called and texted but no response was ever given. Even if you had a car, not that walking would stop you, you had no idea of his whereabouts. Where would you even begin to look?

Then finally at the end of the week, Yeonjun returns home.

You weren’t there when he arrived, you still had to work despite the fact that things were rough. So when you return that night, all that’s left is your stuff and a note.

To my dearest y/n, Sorry for everything. I hope you understand that I need to do things my way right now. This is stupid but I'm sure you can imagine where this is going. Maybe in the future we’ll find each other again, but as of right now, I have to leave. If you need me you have my number,  See you around baby -Yeonjun

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

Shortly after, you find yourself moving out of that old apartment. You never texted or called Yeonjun, and he never did so to you either.

As time goes by and the seasons pass, you can’t help but wonder where he ended up.

Did he continue to seek that dream he always wanted?

Maybe being with you was his biggest dream all along,

He just didn’t know it then.

Deep down Yeonjun wished he could have shown his appreciation for you more. How much he wished to give you a better life, to be a better boyfriend. How much he wished that on those nights when he’d arrive late in the morning hours, you’d wake up to see him giving you those gentle kisses, or how he’d double check to make sure the blanket was properly covering your sleeping figure.

Oh, how Yeonjun would never know about those faded photographs you still have saved from your old polaroid camera. Both of you with wide smiles as you sat in the pile of snow in the middle of your living room. You often found yourself wishing you could go back. Go back to when things were simpler, go back to that summer you moved in that tiny apartment.

As these nights go on, so does time. Therefore the tears that you find yourself wiping away eventually dry, and you let these memories go with a sigh. They carry themselves away along with the gentle breeze that whispers through your open window. And as that sandalwood candle’s wick flickers out, you realize so does the love you once held for him.

[crusty-chronicles]

Hi there!! What about a Kite headcanon where his partner was doubting themselves, i.e didn’t think they were good enough to be with him. <3 you

Self-Doubts

Synopsis: It's a mystery how someone like you could have a partner who was seemingly perfect. It made you wonder just what exactly he saw in you. Though maybe you weren't the only one with these doubts.

An: I'm so sorry to whoever requested this that it took so long for me to get to!

It was no secret Kite was a good person. A man with seemingly endless patience and understanding. His profession was one of the more humble ones. A beast hunter who studied and gathered information on any new species. Hell, the animals practically flocked to him. The people he surrounded himself with were also pretty decent, holding him to the highest regard. 

There was just something about him that was easy going. Managing to diffuse even the most heated of situations. A level head on his shoulders that led to him making the right decision most of the time.

And the way he was with you…it made you think that he was perfect. He never missed an anniversary. Even when he couldn't physically be there with you, there'd somehow be a delivery of flowers outside your door. The times he was home, he made sure to make every minute count. Whether it was lounging on the couch or going on a date, you were together. 

If you ever had the opportunity to visit him on the job, he welcomed you with open arms. Excitedly showing you what he and his team had found. Loving and devoted. That's how you would describe him. He made it easy to feel safe and secure.

But some days, it really hit you how different you were. You didn't have some noble job dedicated to research. You weren't the most level headed when you were upset. Irritable even on your best days. You didn't have enough funds for fancy restaurants or special anniversary gifts. 

Compared to Kite, you had nothing to offer. Someone like him deserved a partner that could keep up. Someone who didn't hold him back because they were normal. Ordinary with nothing special to keep his interest.

Sometimes you wondered what he saw in you. 

What made you special in his eyes? 

It's not like he intentionally pushed you to think like this. No, he'd never purposely make you feel lesser. Not once had he ever made any comparisons. He never commented on your financial status or excluded you from his work. He wasn't the type to put someone down just because.

This was an internal struggle.

Something caused by your own self-doubts and observations. The ones that said you simply weren't good enough. That there had to be a catch. There was no way someone like him was in love with you. 

On days like those, your demeanor had shifted for the worst. Lounging around in bed curled up. Thinking, just thinking it was only a matter of time before he realized you were no good. He'd come in, break things off with you and leave. You'd never see him again, and the blissful memories of your relationship would diminish to nothing. You'd spiral, thinking of the worst possible scenarios before you'd snap out of it. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that he was never there for those moments. Insecurity was something that couldn't be helped, but you always felt stupid for it when he came back and showered you with his affections. Feeling ridiculous because it was obvious he loved you. 

But why was the question.

You'd never outright asked him. At least, not until today. It just so happened that today was one of the days where your insecurities were at their highest. And just who was it that surprised you at your door this morning?

Kite.

You tried not to let it show. To just enjoy the time you had with him. Yet you couldn't shake the negative thoughts from your head. A part of you knew that he knew something was off. Suggesting to stay in for your usual date night. You'd agreed, ending up cuddled on your couch while a movie played in the background. Your head on his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe your racing thoughts. 

It was enough. The closeness was enough. 

The sound of a phone ringing startled both of you. You got up and reached for your phone. No calls. A tired groan from Kite let you know it was coming from his phone. He sent you an apologetic look before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kite! Glad to see I've got the right number.”

It was a voice you didn't recognize. Their friendly tone only made your heart start to race. When he'd said their name with familiarity, you'd officially started spiraling again.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you by any chance busy?”

He briefly glanced over at you. No. No he wasn't busy at all. You went to get up, wanting to give him some privacy. But he stopped you. Mouthing a ‘I’ll be done in a minute. Promise.’ His attention returning to the other person on the line right after.

“Why do you ask? Did something happen back at base? If it's serious I'm sure I can make my way there.” 

Always considerate. You wanted to tell him it was okay. That he could go take care of what he needed to. But…

“No nothing bad….I was just wondering if you'd like to accompany me to a nearby bar. I heard you were in town and thought I'd ask.”

But this wasn't something revolving around his work. And it scared you. He wasn't the type, but he deserved someone better. Maybe this person was better. A stable job. Patience and grace. Confidence. 

You wouldn't be upset if he said yes. He looked towards you once more before answering.

“Sorry. I'm spending time with my partner right now. If something pertaining to our work happens, you can call me back. Until then, have a good night.”

With that, he hung up. The question of why ringing in your head. Why did he choose you? Over who? You couldn't help but ask.

“Who was that?”

“One of my new co-workers for the time being,” he answered.

For the time being. Because different surveys required working with different people. A temporary colleague. Nothing more, right?

“And you're not gonna go?” you questioned.

Because you didn't want to hold him back. 

But it felt like he wasn't even entertaining the thought. Moving close to you and bumping his forehead to yours.

“Of course not. My days off are reserved for you. I'm away from you enough as it is.”

“We still have tomorrow. You should go enjoy yourself.” You tried again. It almost sounded like you were pleading.

He leaned back to properly read your expression. Though you were sure he could sense your negative feelings. Somehow know exactly what was running through your head.

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

You struggled to answer. Usually you were able to quell your doubts. You would've been able to if it weren't for that phone call. Maybe you were selfish for wanting to keep him when someone better was offering. 

You wanted him to go because you weren't enough. 

You felt him cup your face. Trying to get you to look at him.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

That was all it took for you to say it.

“Why?”

He looked at you with a confused expression.

“Why what?”

“Why are you with me? Why did you choose me over them? I mean, they clearly sound interested and you don't gain anything dating me.” The words seemed to tumble out before you could stop them.

“Is that what you think?” Kite asked. His tone in complete disbelief.

“That I need to gain something to be with you? Where's this coming from?”

You didn't answer. You didn't know how. Choosing instead to ask what had been weighing so heavily on you.

“What does someone like you see in someone like me? You give me so much in return for practically nothing. So why? Why me?” 

He was silent for a moment. Trying to figure out the best way to approach this. To formulate a proper response. He knew what he wanted to say. But he didn't know if it would be enough. This wasn't something he was used to dealing with. How ever long you'd been dealing with this, he'd felt guilt for not picking up on it sooner. 

“Why you?” He repeated. It was obvious wasn't it? The same reason you'd stuck with him for so long.

“I chose you because I love you.”

And he always would. There was nothing more to it. However, it looks like that wasn't the answer you wanted. 

“But why?”

He'd caught on then. Inching closer towards you.

“Well, I like that you don't let people walk all over you. You stand your ground and you don't let other's opinions sway you. You give pushback when you think something's wrong.”

A hand placed on top of yours.

“I like how we can have conversations unfiltered. We can talk about practically anything. And how you always seem to know what I mean when something I say doesn't come out right.” 

Your personality and understanding. He'd loved you for those things. But was it really enough? Did that make your worth even? Did it matter if it didn't?

“I can't give you the same things you give me,” you started. 

You couldn't afford extravagant dates or gifts. You couldn't travel as often to see him the same he could you. You couldn't provide the same way he could.

“I'm not some hunter like you-” but he cut you off before you could finish.

“And I'm so grateful you're not.”

Moving even closer to you. So much so you could feel yourself letting your guard down.

“I like knowing you're safe. That I can come home and know you're there waiting for me. I don't have to stress out about you not coming back to me because of some job you took up.”

The whispers of insecurities were no match for him. Quieting down to nothing so you could take his words in full.

“We can just be together. Be normal.”

He didn't mind that you were ordinary. He wanted to come home to you. He just wanted you. You who was once again starting to realize how foolish you'd been.

“I love how understanding you are about my line of work. That no matter how long I'm gone, you trust that I'll come back to you.”

That you wouldn't leave him.

“You are more than enough for me. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky.”

He was so close you could feel the heat from his skin. 

Maybe your doubts hadn't been a one sided problem.

If you leaned any closer, you’d be able to kiss him. A comfort you didn't know you wanted until now. Face flushed from his declarations.

“You’re more than enough for me too.” 

Your lips brushing against his before he gave you a proper one. You were enough for each other in your own ways.

[oddinary4bts]

Now We Reign | myg (teaser)

☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering

☆word count: 34.9k

☆a/n: a teaser bc today is supposed to be tfs day and it's not bc tfs is over and the sequel is not ready and I already miss posting about them :')

☆a/n pt2: As per always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆☆☆☆☆

Another nod of your head, as you took yet another sip of the whiskey. This time mostly because the feeling inside of you needed to be ignored. To be avoided at all costs.

Too bad alcohol kills the inhibition, right?

You couldn’t even tell who did the first move. All you knew was that your glass was snatched from your hands, put down on the coffee table and then you were tasting the alcohol on Yoongi’s lips. The kiss was ravaging, taking your loneliness and burning it down, until all you could feel was Yoongi’s body under your hungry hands.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read the full fic here!

[astrogurujimayanksblog]

Astrology Observations: Understanding Moon and Sun Sign Combinations

Astrology offers deep insights into human behavior, relationships, and personality traits. By studying the Sun and Moon sign combinations, we can identify patterns that reflect different aspects of people's lives, from how they approach love to how they handle social interactions. In this article, we will delve into various astrological observations related to Moon and Sun signs, their impact on romantic dynamics, friendships, and overall personality traits.

Aries Moon: From Neglect to Attention Seekers

Individuals with an Aries Moon often experience a lack of attention from the opposite sex during their younger years. This neglect can create a longing for recognition, which, when coupled with increased attention later in life, can cause some Aries Moons to develop player-like tendencies. As they become the center of attention, their self-worth grows, sometimes in unhealthy ways. However, it’s important to note that this pattern isn’t exclusive to Aries Moons. Pisces Moon individuals, although for different reasons, also experience this lack of attention in their youth.

Pisces Moon: Focused and Fantastical

Pisces Moon natives are often too immersed in their own world to notice external attention. Their love for knowledge and inner reflection can isolate them socially, often leading to them being perceived as nerds or bookworms. However, as they grow older, some Pisces Moon natives can turn into players too, but their method is more mental. They often invent stories of imaginary admirers to make themselves appear more desirable. This behavior can be subtle, but it’s rooted in a need for emotional validation, which they felt was lacking during their formative years.

The Pisces Moon’s Emotional Transactions

Pisces Moon men, in particular, are known for trying to buy their partner's affection. Many feel unworthy of receiving love naturally and thus resort to gifts, favors, or even financial exchanges to keep their partner's interest. Celebrity astrologer example: Rapper Offset, a Pisces Moon native, was accused by his wife Cardi B of paying women for sex. This highlights how Pisces Moon men may feel they need to pay for affection due to deep-seated insecurities.

Cancer Sun: More Than Just Needy or Clingy

There is a common stereotype that Cancer Sun men are overly clingy and needy, but real-life examples show that this behavior isn’t universal. Cancer Sun men’s tendencies to cheat or remain loyal depend significantly on their Moon sign. For instance, Cancer Suns with a Scorpio, Aquarius, Sagittarius, or Pisces Moon are more prone to cheating, whereas those with a Taurus, Libra, or Virgo Moon tend to be more committed and devoted to their partner. These traits can manifest in forms of emotional manipulation, financial abuse, and controlling behaviors, making it essential to understand the full picture of their astrological makeup.

Aquarius Sun and Scorpio Sun Friendships: The Uncommon Bond

One often overlooked combination in astrology is the friendship between Aquarius Sun and Scorpio Sun individuals. While romantic relationships between these signs are rare, their friendship is often deep and meaningful. Aquarius and Scorpio Suns connect intellectually, sharing a cerebral approach to life. It is more common for Scorpio Suns to date Virgo Suns, as both signs are analytical and logical. But when Aquarius and Scorpio form a bond, it is one of mutual respect and shared philosophical ideas.

Scorpio Mercury and Sibling Rivalry

Astrologically, individuals with Scorpio Mercury or Mercury in the 8th house may experience deep-seated sibling rivalries. These natives often have intense and sometimes volatile communication with their siblings, characterized by cursing, threats, and even blackmail. On the other hand, those with Gemini Lilith also experience sibling issues but rooted in jealousy and envy, often noticing privileges their siblings receive in various aspects of life.

Virgo and Gemini Descendant: The Challenges of Mercurial Signs

Those born with a Virgo Descendant have an advantage over their Gemini counterparts due to their methodical approach to life and exceptional time management skills. In contrast, Gemini Descendants often struggle with ADHD-like symptoms, poor focus, and social anxiety. Both Virgo and Gemini Descendants, however, tend to rehearse conversations in advance, preparing themselves for social interactions before they occur.

The Duality of Gemini Sun: Communicative Yet Disconnected

Gemini Sun individuals are known for their excellent communication skills, but many of them paradoxically dislike socializing. Despite their ability to engage with others effortlessly, they can be inwardly fed up with the energy required to maintain these connections. This creates an interesting contradiction within their personality, making them seem more misanthropic than they appear.

Taurus Sun: Conflict Avoidance and Poor Resolution Skills

Taurus Sun individuals, while being conflict-avoidant, are not driven by a need to please others like Libra Suns. Instead, they struggle with recognizing their own faults and lack the skills necessary for healthy conflict resolution. This avoidance stems from their inability to handle confrontation, both emotionally and physically, often resulting in anxiety and stress-related symptoms such as upset stomachs or trembling.

Virgo Sun and Health Issues: The Cold Truth

While Virgo Suns are often associated with health issues, Cancer Sun individuals are more prone to long-lasting colds and immune system problems. Cancer Suns often experience lingering health challenges, particularly in the winter months, which can make them seem perpetually sick. This sensitivity to illness is a less frequently discussed trait of Cancer Sun natives.

Leo Lilith and Attracting the Wrong Kind of Attention

People with Leo Lilith, Lilith in the 5th house, or Lilith at a Leo degree often attract individuals who are drawn to their light only to dim it. These natives frequently attract people who want to steal their confidence and make them feel less self-assured. Leo Lilith individuals should be cautious of relationships with Capricorn Sun/Venus or Venus in the 10th house, as these partners may unconsciously try to undermine their self-esteem.

Sun-Moon Conjunctions in Relationships

One fascinating astrological aspect in relationships is the Sun-Moon conjunction. This aspect often draws two seemingly opposite individuals together in a way that is hard to explain. For example, Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker, despite appearing mismatched at the beginning of their relationship, have an Aries Sun-Aries Moon conjunction, which explains their deep connection beneath the surface.

Opposite Moon Signs: Which Ones Work?

Moon sign oppositions can create a surprisingly harmonious balance. For instance, Aries Moon-Libra Moon and Scorpio Moon-Taurus Moon pairings often work well because of their complementary qualities. However, one opposition that rarely succeeds is Leo Moon and Aquarius Moon. Leo Moon natives need to be treated specially, whereas Aquarius Moons treat everyone equally, leading to friction in relationships.

Conclusion: The Complex Web of Astrology

Understanding the complexities of Moon and Sun sign combinations provides a deeper perspective into human behavior. Whether it’s the nuanced insecurities of a Pisces Moon or the paradoxical traits of a Gemini Sun, astrology reveals the underlying motivations that shape relationships, friendships, and personal growth. By studying these astrological patterns, we gain valuable insights into how different signs influence our interactions with others.