#cyrus girl in space

[sideblogdotjpeg]

on my baby-girlify kai agenda

@girlinspacepodcast

[grendel-menz]

girl in space doodles

[translucentbisexual]

Amber Gris?? In my Spotify????

[dancingplague]

I do not know how meaningful it's going to be in the end but I do love the contrast between X's principled nonviolence and the fact that it takes her absolutely no time to decide to tie Cyrus to a table because he's inconvenient. I think it gives a slightly different shade to her refusal to violently defend herself. Like there are other interpretations, but it definitely gives the sense that, yeah, she kind of does think clones are a little less than human, that lab experiments don't have quite the right to self defense that everyone else does.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part III

More than distance between us - California King Bed, Rihanna

A waking nightmare that is only worse when I am sleeping - Kill The Messenger, Jack's Mannequin

Company under cover, filling space in your sheets - Candles, Daughter

Everything looks better when the sun goes down - Make me wanna die, The Pretty Reckless

Lay your head on me one last time - So cold, Breaking Benjamin

So just pour a drink (let's talk it over) - Robots will cry, Cobra Starship

Am I the one you think about - Pink Rabbits, The National

Until you hold my hand - Swing Life Away, Rise Against

All colors and cares glaze to gray - Taro, alt-J

I fall in love just a little ol' little bit - Someone new, Hozier

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance - Second chance, Shinedown

Have we got our lines crossed? - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A souvenir for the morning - The Consequence, You Me At Six

I hate loving you as much as I do - Where is her head, The National

Destined for this and the crown - Solo, Jennie

Soft skin and soft lips - girls, girl in red

Every time we lie awake - I hate everything about you, Three Days Grace

But we're still sleeping like we're lovers - Still, Daughter

Can't give you my soul - Somebody Else, The 1975

I can feel you dreaming of me - Wester, AFI

There's a fine line between love and hate - The Diary of Jane, Breaking Benjamin

Could you love me at my worst? - @ my worst, blackbear

Because we're one of a kind - God's Menu, Stray Kids

Triangles are my favorite shape - Tessellate, alt-J

Desperate minds mean desperate measures - Playing the blame game, You Me At Six

Someone I am made for - Forever yours, Sunrise Avenue

Put your sweet lips on my lips - Like real people do, Hozier

And I'll lie and you'll believe - Just tonight, The Pretty Reckless

Call me your favorite, call me the worst - Call me, Shinedown

Then tell me to leave (and baby I'll go) - July, Noah Cyrus

More titles!

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 12

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

"Enough! I’m not playing with you!" I snapped through gritted teeth, looking around nervously, fearing someone else might see us. "We’re going inside now, and you’re going to put some clothes on before I have to force you!"

"For someone who’s been treating me like I don’t exist, you seem awfully concerned," she said, dragging out every word with exaggerated slowness, dripping with sarcasm.

I didn’t know my body could overheat like a volcano about to erupt until this cursed woman crossed my path. It was evident from the triumphant look on her face that making my life a living hell with her presence was her greatest mission on Earth. I had no doubt that was what tied her to the band.

Being here every day, driving me a little more insane for her amusement.

Every time a car passed and honked as the driver caught sight of her body, clad in nothing but a white lace bra and matching panties, I wanted to claw my eyes out. It was hard enough to focus on her mocking face when all I wanted was to savor the view that hadn’t been mine for a long time.

Everything was still perfectly in place, and damn it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this close to her exposed body. Her curves looked like they’d been painted with the finest brush, and at this distance, I could practically feel the texture of her skin and even catch her scent. I wasn’t the best at remembering things most of the time, but I never forgot anything about her.

"Let’s. Go. Inside. Now!" I said slowly, feeling another wave of fury boiling inside me as another car passed, honking and catching her attention.

"Don’t you dare come any closer!" she warned, pointing a finger at me, stepping back as she realized I was closing the distance between us. "Stay right there! Don’t move!"

"Or?" I tilted my head, matching her defiant tone. "That’s what I thought."

It only took one step to invade her space and lift her off the ground as if she weighed nothing, slinging her over my shoulder. Her screams and hysteria as we headed back to the studio didn’t faze me in the slightest, nor did her fists pounding against my back in an effort to free herself.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she yelled, kicking her legs and hitting my back harder. "PUT ME DOWN NOW, YOU IDIOT!"

Inside the studio, I tossed her onto the couch and pinned her down, immobilizing any movement by holding her wrists above her head. Her chest heaved erratically until our breaths became one, her darkened eyes locked on mine.

"Damn the day you crossed my path, you cursed girl!" I growled, tightening my grip on her wrists, my stomach churning inexplicably every time she curved her lips in amusement. "Have you lost your mind, pest?"

"You were so eager to touch me again that you broke your own stupid rule, didn’t you?" she taunted, biting a corner of her lower lip and holding it between her teeth, eliciting a faint gasp from me. I hated when she did that. "Look at you, still the same scared little boy whenever something crosses the limits of your control."

She lifted her head slightly, and our faces blurred into one another. Instantly, my skin felt like it was sparking as if struck by invisible embers.

"You still reek of fear, Noah," she whispered, her voice maddeningly soft. God help me, it was the closest I’d ever been to losing my mind. "And I love it."

"How is it that your entire life revolves around making mine a living hell and enjoying every second of it!"

"I won," she declared softly, almost sweetly, her jet-black eyes gleaming like polished tourmalines. "I beat you."

There was no denying the curse in her gaze. Not once had her eyes crossed paths with mine without dragging me into an abyss where I fell endlessly, with no place to land. Trapped in a trance. That was her power over me.

"There are curses that can’t be broken, Noah..." she whispered, her lips brushing faintly against the skin of mine. They were dry from the sudden lack of air and the suffocating heat that had overtaken the studio in mere seconds. "No matter how much you try to avoid us during the year, every pathetic day of your life, or who wins tonight. In the end, you’ll always be mine."

Her small nose grazed mine, and my eyes closed as her long, curled lashes brushed against my eyelid. Every touch seemed to amplify in intensity, as if reality had slowed to six times its normal speed, forcing my body to absorb every moment with care.

My free hand traced the side of her body, and with each advance of my fingers, counting her ribs, she gasped and reacted with her skin prickling from the sensitivity. I lifted her by placing my hand on her spine, and when I finally released her wrists, she launched herself at me, pressing our lips together in a furious kiss.

She clung to my neck as if afraid I might escape at any moment—an impossible detail when I was holding the world in my arms. The entangling of our tongues fueled the compression of our bodies. Slowly, I pushed her legs apart to wrap them firmly around my waist.

“I never disagreed with this part,” I murmured, tugging at her lower lip slowly. Pulling away swiftly, I tilted her head back, my fingers digging into her hairline, and watched as her heavy breaths colored her flushed face. I couldn’t resist when her smile broke through a soft moan under the pressure I applied to her body.

Our laughter synchronized with our desperate breaths as we resumed the rhythm of our kiss. Living a scene where we’d almost killed each other moments ago seemed to ignite an even fiercer spark, fueling the silent dance of our bodies. I buried myself in her lips with such urgency, as if I might lose her again. Her lips sucked on mine as we switched sides, and I held her face firmly, pressing my thumb into her skin.

It was more than good.

Tasting something that belongs to you has a different flavor. Tracing a body you know so intimately, like running fingers over the keys of a piano; feeling at home in a familiar place; recognizing the rhythm of a breath as if it were a musical note; desiring to merge with one person's lips for the rest of your life.

It was more than good.

But it couldn’t be mine.

With one last turn, I released her lips slowly. She seemed confused at first but softened as I rested my forehead against hers. Her fingers gently traced my face, making my skin tingle as if it might peel from the bones at any moment.

“I know what you're trying to do…” I said quietly, as though an invisible rope tightened around my throat.

“No, no, no, no, my love…” she repeated, holding my face as I tried to pull away. “Don’t do this, please.”

“We can kiss now, drown ourselves in this feeling that everything still belongs to us. That we still exist. I could tell you I’ve been waiting for this, and you could drown me in your lies and more promises you won’t keep,” I declared, even more agonized. “But our problems won’t disappear when we walk through that door, and they’ll come back, forming that same chasm that tears us apart, the one we know too well. Do you know why? Because I don’t want to hear you anymore, no matter what you have to say.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“Because you haven’t changed a single thing, and the proof is what you’re trying to do now, pulling me back into the same cycle again.” With the finality of my words, I stepped away from her gradually and stood up. On a chair, I noticed a shirt I assumed was Ruffilo’s and threw it at her, still staring at the ceiling in a trance. “Why are you doing this?”

I felt like closing my own throat with my fists, such was the pain constricting it and cutting off my air. I needed to breathe in short intervals, releasing it slowly through my mouth. I watched her get up and dress while still sitting, her arms hanging limp, her disheveled hair revealing the knot she tried to swallow.

Like me.

“It’s getting harder every day to just pretend I don’t care about this when everything I see, every path I try to take, every place I’m in—everything I am—has you,” she said without even looking at me. “I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life, and that’s saying something, considering I’m used to my own company. But that was before I hated everything I see in the mirror. Because she’s the real culprit.”

“I could say I miss you—I miss you in the morning, I miss you at night, I miss you in the shower, I miss you in bed, I miss you when I eat, I miss you when I’m on stage, I miss you when I write…” I paused for a few seconds, searching for air in the ceiling. “Because you’re right, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to write anything good. You took everything I had, even my inspiration.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over, shaking her head. “There isn’t a day I don’t feel guilty for killing that version of you and turning you into this.”

I hated myself for being moved by her tears. Were they real, or just the effect of whatever junk she was on? I didn’t care; the crushing sensation was the same, like a hammer shattering a glass chest.

Taking cautious steps, I approached and knelt beside her. Hard shell, sharp tongue, and a messed-up personality, but deep down, she was just a girl afraid to go home, afraid of anything that might trap her again. She was like a damned little bird, insisting on flying with wings patched together with toothpicks after a grave injury.

"If you’re truly consumed by remorse and want to do something for me, then take care of yourself," I said softly, lifting her chin with the tip of my finger. "Keep your mind steady, your body healthy. I wish I could do that for you, because I would never treat you this way."

"I love you."

Shimmering gemstones in the salty sea of her tears—it was the first time I heard her say it with such anguish, as if each word tore through her chest. She surprised me with a tight embrace, collapsing onto my lap, breaking down completely on my shoulders, and shattering my heart with the sound of her sobs.

Unfortunately, I returned the hug just as tightly, drowning in her hair. She wouldn’t see the tears I left there.

I love you too, little storm.

Nor would she hear what I whispered to myself.

Bad Omens was on its way to Mexico.

We couldn’t be more excited about a festival in a country we had yet to visit. Our Mexican fans were awesome and always tagged us in posts, asking us to come. Their day had finally arrived.

Our schedule was so packed during the three days we’d be there that we’d hardly have time to explore the city. Gerard, of course, thought that was nonsense and made it clear that if we wanted to sightsee, that’s what vacations were for.

The guys were asleep in their seats at the back of the plane, and not even my headphones could block out Folio’s snores.

Matt, Jolly, and Ruffilo were with the rest of the crew, glued to their phones, while I… well, I was in my favorite spot by the window, playing a ridiculous fruit-slicing game on my iPad and listening to music.

Nothing could ruin my trip.

“Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.” She said quickly, weaving through the people in the aisle. Her body came to a halt in front of the aisle seat, and she checked something on her phone before glancing at the seat number.

Well, I spoke too soon.

“Great, this is my seat!” She said without much enthusiasm and, after placing her carry-on in the overhead compartment, sat down next to me.

It was impossible for her to arrive anywhere without drawing attention. She had to be noisy, bump into things, and breathe way too loudly. I kept playing as if nothing was happening and turned up the volume on my headphones.

Of course, after the conversation at the studio, things had gone back to normal. We fought like animals the next day because she insisted we should change the stage setup unnecessarily, and our brief truce resulted in another three days of silence.

I thought it was perfect.

“What are you listening to?” she asked, running her palm along her thigh. From her rushed tone, I guessed she was nervous.

“Music.”

“What song?” she shot back with another question, and I wished for death just to avoid answering.

“How about you grab your headphones, put them on, and stay silent for the rest of the flight while pretending this seat is empty and that Matt forgot me at the airport?” I said, glancing at her, and she didn’t even flinch.

For a few seconds, that actually worked—she stayed quiet.

But, as I said, only for a few seconds. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tapping her fingers on the torn part of her jeans. Her breathing seemed uneven, and even after sitting for a while, her body remained tense. If I knew her well enough, I’d say she was having an anxiety attack.

“Would you mind switching seats with me?” Her fingers curled, and she pressed her palm against the armrest as the plane prepared for takeoff. “I promise to stay really quiet if you let me have the window seat.”

I pretended not to hear and kept slicing fruit on the tablet. Out of the corner of my eye again, I saw her close her eyes as the plane ascended, shrinking into her hoodie with trembling fingers peeking out of the sleeves.

I closed my eyes, sighed deeply, and shifted to stand up. She opened one eye and looked confused as I gestured with my chin for her to take the empty window seat.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me Miss I’m Not Afraid of Anything is still scared of flying.” I let out a chuckle, settling into my new seat.

"Ok, go ahead and call me pathetic," she replied without looking at me, her eyes fixed on the clouds over the airplane wings as she quietly counted her breaths.

"Actually, try focusing your energy on something during the flight, and it’ll go by faster. Try listening to music, reading a book, or—"

"Composing? Singing for the entire plane?" she cut in, raising an eyebrow as she turned to face me. "All terrible options. Honestly, I just get bored when I’m sober."

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the tablet, as if pulling an invisible curtain between us. The more I kept my mind occupied, the faster the flight would pass, and the torture of enduring her next to me, constantly talking, would end.

"We get bored when we’re sober," she repeated, but this time with her eyes narrowing at something specific. "But we’re miserable when we’re not."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Her eyes lit up with something sharp, like lightning, and she pulled her phone from her pocket, fingers moving rapidly until she found the notes app.

"I can’t be saved," she murmured under her breath as she typed.

Carefully, I set the iPad aside and lowered the music in my headphones, watching something come to life before my eyes. She was having a burst of creativity and needed to write it down urgently.

"Watching it swirl down the drain," she continued, and my eyes narrowed as I watched her create something. It was fascinating how nothing around her seemed to exist—she was just immersed in her own thoughts.

I jumped when she suddenly shoved the phone into my hand, a sequence of jumbled phrases filling the screen. Each one had meaning but still needed to connect somehow.

So I decided to follow her inspiration’s formula.

"Old friends, the same as enemies. I’m killing myself again…" I said, finishing the sentence on her phone, filling one of the blank spaces.

"Watching it swirl down the drain…" Her expression finally softened as if something clicked into place. "Down the drain."

"With all I was but couldn’t change," I continued, holding her gaze before adding another note. "Down the drain."

"Down the drain," we said together, lifting our heads in surprise and holding each other’s gaze for a few seconds.

We had just created the second song for our album. Together.

Damn it.

We couldn’t be more different. We were a terrible duo playing instruments in completely disjointed orders. She always seemed to row against the current I was swimming, intentionally. And yet, it was surreal how she could take something so complex and make it look simple.

Like writing a song during an anxiety attack on a plane.

It was as if she didn’t need preparation or even a warm-up because she was born with it in her veins. Because she was good.

Really good.

"Thanks," she smiled, her breathing steadying as she leaned back in her seat. "I’m feeling better now."

"You wrote a good song."

"We wrote it," she corrected, nudging my arm with her elbow. "The first time you let yourself just listen to what’s in your head, we made a good song. We’re still a good team."

She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, I almost didn’t hear what she said, too focused on her bare face. The curve of her lips when she smiled was almost painful to look at up close, every time I remembered that just a few days ago, I’d tasted her again.

"Now that you’re feeling better, you can leave me in peace," I cut her off, turning up the music on my phone.

I was almost drifting off to sleep, guitar riffs running through my mind, when something poked my arm.

"Do you mind holding my hand?" My eyes opened, and there she was, looking at me with a pair of glistening gems. It was strange seeing her afraid, something I’d only witnessed a few times before. "Just until we land, please."

Slowly, I turned my palm upward and waited for her to slide her fingers over mine and interlace them. Unlike mine, her hand was soft and warm, and I couldn’t resist the involuntary motion of running my thumb slowly along the side.

Once again, I was doing what she wanted because maybe she was right when she said I was pathetic.

And I couldn’t wait for this plane to land already.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

[xumuchluv]

⌞Vague Lines & Blurred Loyalties⌝

Genre: Smut (MDNI), angst, romance Pairing: Ex Yeonjun x Fem Reader Warnings: CAR SEX, Swearing, Fighting, Miscommunication (Ig), arguments, crying (everyone lmao), Little dry humping, Oral (both receive it), Jealousy, kissing, they're a bit toxic, Dom Yeonjun, unprotected sex, teasing, fake dating, hickeys, etc.. Settings: Summer (Bar, Apartment, Parking lot, Car..) Song Recommendation: Again - Noah Cyrus & XXXTENTACION Word Count: 14k

In all honesty, you’re not the type of person to do double dates. So, you had no reason to be in this downtown bar on a sweltering summer night. Yet here you are, waiting for the other couple to join you, and it’s already well past the original meeting time.

“How much longer will they take? It’s already 11 pm,” you inquire impatiently, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead. The oppressive heat of this summer night is almost unbearable, the thick air pressing down on you, making the sticky leather of the bar stool even more uncomfortable.

“Only five more minutes, okay? You can wait five more minutes for me, right? You know how important this is to me.” Beomgyu bends down, brushing a stray strand of hair off your damp forehead, then looks at you with those glimmering puppy eyes. Those damn puppy eyes that convinced you to agree to this whole charade in the first place.

You sigh, feeling the warm air from your breath mix with the heat, and look down in defeat. Beomgyu’s smile broadens, knowing he’s won. He glances toward the entrance of the bar, the neon lights casting a colorful glow on his face.

“Oh, they're here!” Beomgyu exclaims. His words fade into the cacophony of music and cheers that envelop the bar as he goes to greet his friends. You don’t bother turning your head to meet them. They’ll come to your table anyway. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, hoping for a moment’s peace before the inevitable small talk begins.

The heat seems to amplify the sounds around you—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the distant laughter. Suddenly, you hear approaching voices mingling with Beomgyu’s loud chatter and lift your head, preparing to greet the couple. Out of politeness, you stand up. However, the sight before you shocks you into sitting back down involuntarily.

“Hello! Nice to meet you. I’m Nari. I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” The girl asks, her voice smooth and friendly. She smiles warmly, but your focus is on the man beside her. Yeonjun. He stands there, an imposing figure, his presence commanding the space around him. The soft glow of the bar lights accentuates his sharp features, and there’s an aura about him that makes the stifling heat feel even more intense.

In your head, Yeonjun and you were like what thorns are to roses, Yeonjun adorned you the same way thorns do to roses. He protected you many times, shielded you from even yourself at times. However, he suffocated you, blocking the outside world from your view. And so the rose had to pluck out the thorns; you had to pluck Yeonjun out of your life.

(And when the rose violently snapped off her thorns, once a part of her, her body released a liquid, blood, to try and soothe her pain. Though, now without her thorns, she still feels the emptiness from the gaps of where the thorns used to decorate her body. But the rose would never admit to that.)

It is safe to say that your relationship ended rockily.

"Y/N? Babe?" Beomgyu snaps you out of your trance. "Sorry, I was zoned out a bit." You smile back at him and stand up. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N," you say, fighting the urge to look into Yeonjun’s piercing eyes.

"Beomgyu talks so much about you, I feel like you're my friend as well," Nari says, laughing. She seems so sweet, and you can’t help but examine her. You once used to be as bright as her. You remember when you styled your hair in various ways and wore colourful clothes just like hers. Now, you’re the complete opposite of how you were. All thanks to Yeonjun, and you can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Haha, does he?” You look at Beomgyu as you exclaim that, and he wraps his arm around your neck as he laughs, looking away, supposedly embarrassed. “Well, a friend of Beomgyu is a friend of mine as well,” you giggle.

The group chuckles amongst themselves, but now it’s time for Yeonjun’s introduction. Which Yeonjun seems to lack interest in doing, so Nari kindly chimes in, "Y/N, this is Yeonjun, my boyfriend." You decide to be brave and look him straight in the eyes. He looks just as amazing as you remember. Yeonjun is silent, extending his hand to shake, and utters the quietest “Nice to meet you.” It’s not spewed in a shy tone, but rather an annoyed one. He slightly grits his teeth as he says it. He meets your eyes with ferocity dancing in his eyes, almost matching your own.

His audacity always amused you, so you have no problem reciprocating his manner and shaking his hand. Your lips curl into a slight smile, feeling too natural for your own liking. The handshake is cut short by a subtle yank from your end.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say without faltering your smile.

As the four of you sit down at the table, the feeling of his fingers brushing your palm lingers on your skin. You're reminded of all the other times those fingers touched you, in all kinds of places. You suddenly feel your skin burning with imaginary touches from the man sitting in front of you, and you feel like you need to crawl out of your own skin. Disturbed with yourself for thinking about what you fought so hard to forget.

"Have you guys ever come here before?" Beomgyu asks the couple sitting opposite you. "No, well, Nari and I usually prefer to have dates in more romantic spots. Like the movies or an aquarium, you know?" Yeonjun says rather smugly, lifting his arm to place it around her shoulder.

You chuckle to yourself. Romantic spots? Yeonjun? The same Yeonjun who was always too focused on his games to even take you out? The same Yeonjun who would only take you on unplanned dates, if he took you out at all? Yeah, right.

A scoff escapes your mouth, and you force it into a laugh. “That’s great! Beomgyu and I do the exact same, but we like to experience a different atmosphere once in a while.” You look lovingly into Beomgyu’s eyes. “Right, Gyu?” The nickname rolls off your tongue, and Beomgyu looks a bit taken aback. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder.

You chatter amongst yourselves for the remainder of the hour, except Yeonjun and you don’t really exchange words—not directly, at least. Instead, you exchange looks. Both of you can’t seem to help your wandering eyes. He looks just as you left him, but even better than you remember. That’s what time does, you suppose. On the contrary, you doubt he recognizes you as the person to wear your current fashion, nor the person to wear such expressions on your face either. But you suppose that’s what time does.

You’ve never been as clingy toward Beomgyu as you currently are. You’re practically sitting on his lap. However, the same can be said about the couple in front of you. Being as touchy as possible, there’s a silent competition occurring, and you and Yeonjun are the competitors. 

A specific question arouses your interest compared to the blur of the last few minutes. "How did you and Yeonjun meet?" Beomgyu asks. You lean your head in, awaiting her answer.

"Well, Yeonjun and I used to play games together all the time, and when we found out we lived in the same area, we decided to meet up. That was around two years ago, I think. He actually had a girlfriend when we first met in person, but shortly after we met up, they broke up, and that was my chance, haha."

Oh? Oh. So that's why she's familiar.

You met her once. She was gorgeous, but you also remember the huge fight that happened after the meeting. She was acting extra clingy toward him for just a friend, and you did not feel that was appropriate. And instead of reassuring you, Yeonjun just mocked your emotions. So she must be the reason he was always on that game, chatting with her. Suddenly, her laugh is agitating you.

A sense of betrayal washes over you upon learning this information. Yeonjun had many flaws, which you memorised inside the core of your brain ever since your breakup to convince yourself it was the right choice, but being a cheater was a new addition to the list.

You slowly avert your eyes up to Yeonjun’s. He has his body leaned against the wall behind him, and he looks down, meeting your gaze. "Is that so?" you blurt out, interrupting her not-so-little story. "I wasn't aware you enjoyed games that much, Yeonjun. What games other than video games do you enjoy playing? Perhaps mental games?" you spit out, the sharp edge of your words cutting through the air. Only Yeonjun seems to understand your intent.

He looks to the side and chuckles lowly, as if in disbelief over your words. Then he moves his frame onto the table and leans his head onto his hands, mirroring you. "I prefer physical games, actually," he says, emphasising the word "physical." It shouldn't have affected you as much as it did, but it did. Your flushed cheeks shine with a mix of your makeup, oil, and sweat under the dim lights of the crowded bar. You take his advance towards you as a challenge, maintaining direct eye contact with him, facing each other head-on.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words and lingering tension, the din of the bar fading into the background. You feel your pulse quicken, every heartbeat echoing in your ears. The heat of the summer night seeps into your skin, amplifying the flush on your cheeks.

"Okay.. Well, Y/N, I have to go grab something from your car. Could you come with me to get it?" Beomgyu asks, cutting through the electrified silence.

"Mhm," you say lowly, your voice barely above a whisper as you slowly divert your eyes from Yeonjun, reluctantly breaking the intense gaze to follow Beomgyu's figure. Yeonjun's pupils following you as you leave.

Once you step outside, you exhale deeply, taking in lungfuls of the fresh night air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Beomgyu grabs you by the shoulders, his eyes searching yours with deep concern.

"I don't know if I can continue this, Gyu. I'm sorry," you reply honestly, your voice trembling slightly.

"You seem bothered by something. You surprisingly seem to enjoy acting as if we are dating..?" He speaks with a confused expression, which soon shifts to a satisfied smirk. "Not that I'm complaining though. Nari clearly seems annoyed by it. I just thought I'd be the one initiating all the romantic stuff, y'know?"

The truth is, you and Beomgyu are just friends. His recent ex, Nari, and he have been playing this game of complete idiocy, in your terms. They pretend they're just friends, when they're not. Once Beomgyu found out she had moved on already, he had to see her with his replacement himself. So, Beomgyu suggested a double date. Unfortunately, you had to partake in all this to support your dear friend. He also asked you to act clingy towards himself to elicit a reaction from Nari.

"Gyu there's something you should know." You explain how Yeonjun is your ex, and how you've been extra clingy to make it seem as if you're dating Beomgyu, because you wanted to make Yeonjun feel as though you had moved on completely. You keep it short, not mentioning how you believe Yeonjun cheated on you with Nari.

"Oh... wow," he blurts out.

"Yeah. Oh." You repeat, feeling a bit exasperated after throwing all your words out.

"So... both of us are trying to make our exes jealous?" he questions. You both look at each other, sharing a single brain cell, you think, and then burst into laughter.

"How did we reach this level of desperation?" you laugh out, wiping your eyes from the tears of laughter.

You and Beomgyu decide this is the perfect opportunity to get revenge on both your exes and annoy them as much as possible. You carry out the initial plan and both of you plot to make it seem as if you were making out. You rub your lips and smudge your lipstick, using some of it to rub onto Beomgyu's lips and neck. You prepare a dazed, off-kilter look.

The bar was a stifling cocoon of heat, the air so thick and heavy it felt like it was pressing down on you. As you and Beomgyu stepped back inside, the warmth wrapped around you, but it was nothing compared to the searing intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze locking onto yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into you, a silent challenge simmering beneath the surface. His hand gripped Nari’s waist with a possessive force, fingers digging into her skin as his lips moved against hers with a calculated hunger, each movement deliberate, meant to provoke. The sight sent a jolt of something electric through you, something that made the already heavy air feel suffocating.

You don't know why, but the sight made the bottom of your feet itch to run, the blood in your veins pulse faster, and your hands squeeze shut in anger. Your heart pounds in your ears as a cold fury washes over you, feeling as if your assumptions were proven correct. Still grasping Beomgyu's hand, you walk up to them.

"Oh, sorry, didn’t realise you guys came back already," Yeonjun's voice cuts through the air like a knife, thick with a smirk as he slowly pulls away from Nari’s lips. His tone is casual, but the glint in his eyes is anything but. He’s playing a game—one you’re determined not to lose. You scoff, your chest tightening with a mix of irritation and something more dangerous, something that simmers just beneath the surface.

Nari’s face flushes with embarrassment, a slight tinge of pink crawling up her neck. She shifts uncomfortably, caught in the act. But honestly, what did she expect? Making out with him in public was bound to draw attention. 

You and Beomgyu take your seat on the bar stools.

You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You turned to Beomgyu, who seemed almost frozen beside you, his eyes wide with something between shock, jealousy, and anger. "Oh babe, you have something there," you murmured, your voice laced with deliberate sweetness, as you traced your fingers along the marks you had intentionally left on his neck earlier.

You glanced around for a tissue, a small, almost mocking smile curling at the corners of your lips when you found none. Instead, you leaned in closer to Beomgyu, the warmth of his skin radiating against your own, your breath mingling with his. "Excuse me for this," you whispered, your voice dropping into something almost seductive as you pressed your lips against the spot, the heat of your mouth remaining as you licked off the smeared lipstick.

The contact was more intimate than you’d intended, your lips lingering a moment too long, the taste of his skin mixed with the salt of sweat as the heat in the room seemed to only increase. You felt Beomgyu stiffen under your touch, a sharp intake of breath betraying his surprise, his muscles tensing as your tongue traced the curve of his neck, the suction intensifying as you tried to remove the mark, only to replace it with a darker stain—this time unmistakably a hickey.

When you pulled back, you feigned a look of innocent surprise, eyes wide as if you hadn’t meant to leave such a blatant mark. "Oh, oops," you said, your voice lilting with fake carelessness. You caught the way Beomgyu’s pulse was hammering under his skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "We’ll just wipe it off later then," you added with a sly, knowing smile, your gaze sliding back to Yeonjun.

In your peripheral vision, you caught the flash of jealousy in Yeonjun’s eyes, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly, though he tried to mask it with a tight-lipped grin. Nari was no better—her discomfort was written all over her.

The air around the four of you buzzed with unspoken words, each of you caught in this twisted game of one-upmanship, where the lines between past and present, affection and spite, were becoming increasingly blurred. The temperature in the room seemed to rise even higher, the hot air pressing in on all sides as the tension between you all reached a boiling point.

“W-Woahh, uhh, is it just me, or did it suddenly become scorching in here?” Beomgyu’s voice wavers as he fidgets in his seat, tugging at his collar like the air around him had grown suffocating. “Maybe we should ditch this place and head back to my apartment?” he suggests, forcing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Your apartment?” Yeonjun’s tone is laced with suspicion, his eyebrow arching. His gaze flicks between you and Beomgyu, a smirk ghosting his lips as he adds, “Not ‘our’ apartment?” The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Nari, catching onto his tone, chimes in with a voice that mirrors his, a faint hint of accusation, “You two don’t live together?”

“Uhhh…” Beomgyu falters, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on him. “We don’t. I have a place nearby though. We’re working on moving in together,” you interject, the sweetness in your smile sharp enough to cut. The lie rolls off your tongue with practised ease, but the tightness in Yeonjun’s jaw tells you he’s not fooled.

“And you two?” you continue, your voice deceptively light as you aim to strike a nerve. “Living together already?”

Yeonjun’s response is swift, almost too quick. “We do,” he snaps, his hand tightening possessively around Nari’s waist. There’s a sharpness to his tone that only you can decipher, a silent challenge embedded in his words.

“Wow, that’s fast,” you say. “Considering you only started dating.. two years ago?” The question is a bait, the words dripping with insinuation, daring him to reveal the truth you’ve been suspecting.

Yeonjun’s eyes flash, a storm brewing behind them as he bites out, “She just moved in recently.” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, a defensiveness that gives him away.

“Must be nice,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his. The air between you heavy, the tension thickening with every passing second. The couple in front of you might be wrapped up in their own world, but the intensity of your silent exchange overshadows everything else in the room.

Beomgyu, trying to change the subject, forces an awkward laugh, his voice unnaturally loud. “Well! Drinks are on me tonight, so let’s grab our last round before heading back to my place!” His attempt to lighten the mood falls flat, the awkward enthusiasm only highlighting the discomfort simmering beneath the surface. However, the four of you play along.

You decide against drinking. The night is volatile enough, and you need a clear head to navigate whatever’s coming next. A bottle of water will be your only companion on the ride back.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu and Nari down shots like they’re desperate to drown their problems, the alcohol flowing as easily as the lies between you all. That leaves you and Yeonjun, the only two sober minds in a room full of vague lines and blurred loyalties.

The night ahead looms large, it’s going to be a long night.

You step into the bathroom, the cool water splashing onto your face doing little to quell the fire simmering in your chest. Staring at your reflection, you force yourself to take a breath, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it back into place. The moment is brief, but it’s enough to regain your composure—enough to prepare yourself to face Yeonjun once more.

When you emerge, the table is empty, the lively chatter of the bar fading into the background as your eyes land on the closed glass door. Outside, you catch sight of Yeonjun, his hand on Nari’s waist, guiding her into his car with that infuriatingly effortless grace. Beomgyu stumbles along, clearly too far gone to even stand straight. A sigh escapes you. Of course, it’s up to you to settle the bill now.

But as you approach the bartender, he informs you that Yeonjun has already paid. The notion grates on your nerves, a bitter reminder of the man you once knew. Always the gentleman, even when you wish he wasn’t. You grab your belongings, your mind racing with a mix of irritation and something more confusing, something you refuse to name.

As you prepare to leave, your gaze catches a small, familiar object on the edge of Yeonjun’s seat—a Polaroid photo. Curiosity tugs at you, and you pick it up, but before you can even glance at the image, a voice cuts through your thoughts.

“I believe that’s mine.”

You whip around, your heart leaping into your throat as Yeonjun stands there, his eyes locking onto yours. You freeze, the photo still clutched in your hand, as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. The table presses against your back, the wall on the other side boxing you in, trapping you with nowhere to go.

He moves closer still, the space between you shrinking until it’s almost nonexistent. His breath fans across your face, and you can’t help but notice how it quickens in sync with your own. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, each inhale brushing against him, and you know he notices—his eyes flicker down, taking in every detail.

Your heart pounds in your ears, the tension between you taut, electric. Yeonjun leans in, his face mere inches from yours, and for a brief, reckless moment, your mind blanks, lost in the proximity, the heat. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he plucks the photo from your hand, but his gaze never wavers, his dark eyes boring into yours.

The silence stretches, heavy and charged. This close, it’s impossible to ignore the magnetism pulling you towards him, the unresolved emotions crackling like a live wire between you. But this isn’t the Yeonjun you fell for—this is the man who betrayed you.

“I…” Your voice falters, coming out more shaky than you’d like. You try again, mustering a semblance of confidence. “I don’t think Nari would like seeing us this close…”

His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low, laced with something you can’t quite place. “She wouldn’t.”

And just like that, he steps back, the spell broken, leaving you breathless and reeling. He turns on his heel, heading towards the exit, and the moment he’s gone, you feel the air return to your lungs.

You take a few steadying breaths, trying to slow the frantic beating of your heart. The room feels hotter now, the air thick and stifling, every brush of fabric against your skin suddenly unbearable. You close your eyes, grounding yourself before finally following him outside into the cool night air.

You approach Yeonjun’s car, as you approach you catch snippets of the conversation between him and Nari.

“What is he doing in my car?” Yeonjun’s voice is low, tinged with annoyance as he glances at the backseat. You follow his gaze and spot Beomgyu, sprawled out and sound asleep, oblivious to the world. The front passenger seat, littered with Yeonjun’s belongings, leaves no room for anyone else.

Nari, swaying slightly on her feet, slurs her words, “It’s okay, don’t wake him up. I’ll just go to Y/N’s car since there isn’t enough space in yours.” Her eyes notice your figure, and she smiles brightly, pointing at you.

“There she is!” Nari exclaims, her voice overly enthusiastic, and you feel their eyes on you. The intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze is impossible to ignore as it sweeps over your body, staying on you for a little too long.

“Y/N, please drive me to Beomgyu’s place,” Nari says, her words blending together. “I’m sure you know the way, right? If you don’t, I can tell you because I—”

“There isn’t enough space for both Nari and Beomgyu in my car at the moment,” Yeonjun interjects, his tone clipped as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his other hand resting on his hip in a gesture of frustration. “And Nari insists on leaving Beomgyu where he is. So, you’ll have to take her. I’ll follow you.”

“Oh.” You glance at Nari, her expression loose and unconcerned. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

It’s not fine. You do not want to be stuck with the girl your ex cheated on you with. 

With that, you help Nari into your car, the weight of Yeonjun’s stare still heavy on your back as you slip into the driver’s seat. As you pull away, you catch sight of Yeonjun in your rearview mirror, his car trailing close behind.

The car ride is a relentless stream of chatter, Nari’s drunken rambling filling the space between you. Her words tumble out in a jumbled mess, but you let her talk, relieved she isn’t the crying type. Yet, something she says snags your attention.

“Yeonjun told me you almost saw that photo,” she giggles, the sound annoying you. “It would’ve been really bad for him if you did.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you demand, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. But Nari offers no reply. You glance over, only to find her eyes closed, her breathing even.

No. You need answers.

You reach over and shake her shoulder, your voice sharp as you call her name. “What did you mean by that?”

She stirs, blinking groggily. “Huh? Mean by what?”

Frustration coils in your chest. Her drunken haze is a barrier you can’t seem to break through, and the urgency gnaws at you. Up ahead, a traffic light turns yellow, and without thinking, you press down on the gas pedal, speeding through the intersection. In the rearview mirror, you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun’s car, stopped at the red light, his face a mask of confusion.

Your pulse quickens, the unanswered question burning in your mind. What was in that photo? Why did it matter so much to Yeonjun? The road stretches out before you, but the only thing you can focus on is the mystery hanging over you like a storm cloud, dark and heavy.

—

Yeonjun slams on the brakes at the red light, the sudden stop jolting him out of his thoughts. He stares ahead, torn between chasing after you and staying put, uncertainty gnawing at him. A thud from the back seat snaps him back to the present.

“Ah... damn it...” Beomgyu groans, his voice muffled as he peels his face off the car’s floor, where he’s fallen in his drunken state.

Yeonjun mutters a curse under his breath, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel. He shoots a glance at Beomgyu through the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his ex’s new boyfriend.

“Blame your girlfriend for that,” Yeonjun mutters, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

Beomgyu sluggishly drags himself back onto the seat, his movements slow and uncoordinated. “My girlfriend...?”

Time seems to stretch as the red light stubbornly refuses to change, each second ticking by with agonizing slowness. The tension in the car is thick, the air almost crackling with it. A notification dings on Yeonjun’s phone, momentarily pulling his attention away from the awkward silence.

It’s a message from Nari, and Yeonjun’s brow furrows as he reads it:

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’

Yeonjun exhales sharply, the frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. His fingers tap impatiently on the steering wheel, a rapid, nervous rhythm that betrays his inner turmoil. What are you planning?

Beomgyu’s voice, lazy and taunting, cuts through the tense silence. “You know, I’ve only seen Y/N speed through this stop a few times...”

Yeonjun’s gaze shifts to the rearview mirror, locking onto Beomgyu’s reflection. The younger man’s smirk is infuriatingly smug, a glint in his eyes.

“It only happens when she’s in a rush... to get to my apartment.” Beomgyu’s voice drops lower, more suggestive, as he leans back, spreading himself comfortably across the seats. “When she’s in a rush to feel me... on her.” He pauses, watching as Yeonjun’s chest rises and falls with controlled breaths. “...in her.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and provocative. Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking with barely restrained fury. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles almost popping, the pressure enough to shatter it. The intensity in his eyes as they meet Beomgyu’s in the rearview mirror is scorching, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“If... you know what I mean,” Beomgyu adds, his tone dripping with a taunt that cuts deeper than any blade.

Yeonjun’s eyes burn with an icy fire as he stares Beomgyu down, a challenge hanging between them like a drawn sword. The tension is like a bomb, vibrating with the threat of explosion, each man’s pride and desire for dominance clashing in the confined space of the car.

But then, a sharp honk from the car behind shatters the moment, dragging Yeonjun back to the harsh reality of the situation. He blinks, the connection between them severed, and with a muttered curse, he presses down on the gas pedal, hard, as the light finally turns green.

—

Nari’s voice cuts through the atmosphere in the car, her words slurred but her concern evident. “Woah, Y/N, what the hell?” 

"Please text Yeonjun to stick to the right lane throughout the entire road until he reaches 'Honey' street, where he'll need to take a right turn to arrive at Beomgyu's apartment parking." You give her instructions, sounding formal from restraining your true feelings at the moment.

She fumbles with her phone, her drunken fingers struggling to tap out a coherent message. 

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’, she manages to sent Yeonjun.

Your mind is elsewhere, clouded with doubt and anger. “You mentioned something earlier... about how it would’ve been bad for Yeonjun if I saw that photo. Why?” Your voice is strained, and without thinking, you wrench the steering wheel to the left, taking a detour that gives you more time for your discussion.

Nari yelps, gripping the seatbelt as the car swerves. “Y/N!” Her voice is tinged with fear, but you barely register it. All you can think about is that photo—what it could mean, what it could reveal.

“Nari,” you snap, your voice tight with desperation. “Tell me right now! Is it a photo of you? Of you two while he was still with me? Is that why it would’ve been bad for him? That bastard!” Your voice breaks, tears stinging your eyes, blurring the road ahead. You blink rapidly, trying to focus, but the emotions are overwhelming.

But instead of the answer you dread, Nari’s laughter fills the car, light and almost mocking. “Y/N... I know you and Yeonjun dated,” she says, her tone a strange mix of amusement and sympathy. “But do you really think he cheated on you? With me?” She pauses, letting the question hang in the air. “It’s a photo of you, Y/N. He shouldn’t be carrying around a picture of his ex while he’s dating someone new, right? That’s why it would’ve been bad for him.”

Her words hit you like a truck, leaving you momentarily breathless. You slow the car, the confusion and shock twisting your stomach into knots. What? That was the last thing you expected her to say. You roll down the window, letting the night air wash over you, trying to calm your racing heart. “Nari... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Nari sighs softly, her gaze distant as she stares out the window. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just... don’t tell Yeonjun I said anything, okay?”

“Yeah... of course,” you murmur, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

The rest of the drive is suffocatingly quiet, Nari’s gentle snores the only sound as you’re left alone with your swirling thoughts. The earlier confusion and the anger all blend into a chaotic mess in your mind.

You finally pull into the parking lot, spotting Yeonjun leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He straightens up when he sees you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You step out of the car, gently helping the now nearly unconscious Nari out as well. There's a silence between you and Yeonjun, as he watches you with an inscrutable gaze.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, his tone laced with irritation. He rolls his eyes, but you don’t rise to the bait, too drained to engage.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” you ask, ignoring his remark.

Yeonjun’s jaw tightens slightly, but he answers, “He went up to his apartment.”

You nod, guiding Nari towards the building, your mind still reeling from everything that’s happened. But one thing is clear—you’re not done with this conversation. Not by a long shot.

-

Finally, after what feels like an endless climb up the stairs—thanks to the conveniently broken elevator—you reach Beomgyu’s floor. Each step was a reminder of the weight of the night, and you can’t help but let out a breathy, victorious "fucking finally" as you clutch your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. You open Beomgyu’s unlocked door, your hand trembling slightly from the adrenaline over climbing too many steps in a short amount of time.

Yeonjun steps in, carrying Nari effortlessly, with a strong frame. The apartment is cozy, with just enough space for two, yet the intimacy of the setting only adds to the suffocating tension. His eyes sweep over the place, lingering on the personal touches—Beomgyu’s little marks of comfort and style. The kitchen, neat and orderly, the living room inviting with its well-worn sofas surrounding a central table atop a small circular carpet, and finally, his gaze drifts to the door on the right, presumably leading to the bedroom.

You watch him as he gently lays Nari down on the nearest sofa, his movements careful, deliberate. He then returns to the entrance, his hands slowly working on the laces of his shoes, almost like he’s stalling. When he slips off his jockey university sweater, the air seems to thicken, and you can’t help but trace the contours of his body with your eyes, quickly averting them when you feel your cheeks burn with memories better left forgotten.

The room suddenly feels too small, too intimate. Here you are, after everything, sharing the same space as Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s apartment. The thought makes your stomach churn. You shake your head, trying to refocus. Beomgyu—where was he? You need to find him, cling to the present to avoid drowning in the past.

You move towards the bedroom, the light already on, spilling out into the hallway. “Beomgyu? Are you there?” Your voice echoes softly, breaking the stillness.

A response comes from the bathroom, on the right of the room, his voice familiar yet strained, “I’m here…”

Relief washes over you, and you step inside, your earlier tension momentarily forgotten. “You know, it's kind of rude to leave your guests—” The words die in your throat as your gaze lands on Beomgyu, shirtless, hunched over the sink, struggling to apply ointment to a nasty, jagged scratch running down his back.

Your breath hitches as you take in the scene. The sight of him, vulnerable and hurt, ignites a surge of concern that pushes aside everything else. You approach him slowly, your earlier bravado slipping away, replaced by something gentler. “What… happened?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with worry for your friend.

Beomgyu’s reflection in the mirror meets yours, a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. But it’s the pain in his eyes that catches you off guard, making your heart clench.

“Gyu... what the hell happened?” The words slip out in a frantic whisper as you rush over to him, grabbing the ointment from his trembling hands.

“Nothing,” he mutters, a scoff barely masking the pain in his voice. His eyes are downcast, avoiding yours as if hiding something. You gently begin to apply the ointment to his raw, sensitive skin, your hands trembling slightly as you try to be as careful as possible. But Beomgyu doesn’t even flinch, his body numbed either by alcohol or something far deeper.

“This is not nothing, Beomgyu,” you say firmly, your voice stern with concern. The thought of what—or who—could have caused this flashes through your mind, and an image of Yeonjun surfaces, dark and accusing. A surge of anger pulses through you. Could he have done this? You turn, eyes blazing with determination. “Did Yeonjun do this to you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes roll in exasperation, his head tilting back slightly as if he’s exhausted by the question. “I told you, I don’t care about this scratch, okay?” His voice is flat, devoid of its usual spark, as he pushes himself off the sink and saunters towards his closet, passing by you, searching for a shirt.

You follow him, not willing to let it go, your heart pounding in your chest. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yeonjun standing near Nari, as he hands her a drink you can only assume is water to sober her up, removing a bottle of wine from her other hand. You lower your voice, trying to keep the conversation private. “Beomgyu,” you press, your tone urgent and low, “Did Yeonjun do this?”

“Ugh, yeah, he did, but it’s not what you think. I’m not even mad about it—”

“I hate him.” The words spill out before you can stop them, your voice quivering with raw emotion. You turn on your heel, ready to storm out and confront Yeonjun, the adrenaline surging through you like fire. But Beomgyu’s hand catches your arm, his grip firm yet pleading.

“Y/N, stop,” he says, his voice cutting through your anger like a knife. “It was my fault. I riled him up... it’s complicated.” His eyes drop, the weight of whatever he’s holding back pulling him down.

Your anger deflates, replaced by a heavy sadness. You move closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm, your mind racing to piece together what could have driven Beomgyu to such a state. “Is it... Nari? Is that what this is about?”

At the mention of her name, his expression crumbles, the facade he’s been holding up finally breaking. His shoulders slump, and he nods, the pain evident in every line of his face. “I think it’s over... between us. She seems to really have moved on.” His voice is barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears as he clings to your arm.

You remember Nari’s words in the car about Yeonjun keeping a photo of you. The thought of it makes your heart twist in your chest. How could they be in a genuine relationship if Yeonjun hasn't let go of the past? “Don’t be so sure, Gyu,” you murmur softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turn to him. There’s a flicker of hope in your chest—hope for Beomgyu and Nari, though you’re unsure what it means for you and Yeonjun.

Beomgyu looks up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his vulnerability laid bare. “What makes you say that?” he asks, his voice trembling with both fear and hope.

You smile down at him, tenderly wiping away a tear that escapes from the corner of his eye. “Just trust me,” you whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter closed at the contact, and you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his head, cradling him like something precious. “You’ll see, Gyu,” you murmur, swaying gently back and forth, trying to soothe the storm inside him.

You hear a cough behind you and turn to find Yeonjun and Nari standing awkwardly in the doorway. Their presence feels like an intrusion, but you quickly move away from Beomgyu, who hastily wipes away any lingering tears, trying to compose himself.

"Um, I kind of made a mess outside and... was wondering if I could use your shower?" Nari asks, her voice small and hesitant as she clutches her soaked shirt. It’s only then that you notice the wine stains covering her clothes. Yeonjun, on the other hand, looks dry, but his eyes are averted, and he huffs before turning and leaving the room without a word.

"Yeah, of course," Beomgyu responds, standing up to lead Nari to the bathroom. You decide to give them some space, hoping that maybe this moment alone is what they need to work things out.

As the door closes behind them, the apartment falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant murmur of Beomgyu and Nari’s voices. You turn back to the living room and see Yeonjun bent over, scrubbing a wine stain off the floor. Relief washes over you that the spill didn’t hit the carpet or the couch, but then your eyes land on the table—your paper, drenched in crimson liquid.

“No...” You rush over, your heart sinking as you pick up your soaked assignment, trying to salvage what little remains. The paper disintegrates in your hands, the ink smudging and bleeding until there’s nothing left but a soggy mess between your fingers. The frustration and anger bubble up inside you, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to hold back on your anger.

When you open them, you see Yeonjun, still cleaning, completely ignoring your disaster. You didn’t expect an apology, but his indifference stings more than any words could. And perhaps you mixing your own personal emotions when you said your next words, but they had come out more hurtful than intended.

“Hey, jackass.” The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and biting, aimed at Yeonjun’s turned back. He stops and slowly turns to you, his expression one of mild annoyance. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to continue.

“Were you just standing there like a useless idiot when she knocked over the wine?” you snap, your voice dripping with contempt.

Yeonjun scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he straightens up and takes a step towards you, the air between you crackling with unresolved feelings. He doesn’t speak, just watches you, his gaze challenging and unyielding.

“Are you mute as well as useless?” you bite out, your anger flaring as you meet his eyes, refusing to back down. His silence is infuriating, and you can feel the rage boiling over, threatening to spill out in ways you can’t control. In the background, you hear the bathroom shower begin, the sound pulling you back to the present moment, grounding you in the here and now. And right now, you were angry.

“Fuck’s sake!” You slam your hands down on the table, the impact sending droplets of wine splattering across the surface and onto your hands, staining them red. “I’ve been trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don’t even try. You’re just... unbearable.” Your voice cracks with frustration, the words spilling out in a torrent of pent-up emotion.

Yeonjun lifts an eyebrow, a smug expression creeping onto his face, as if he’s amused by your outburst. That look—the one he always gives when he thinks he’s above it all—pushes you over the edge.

“And that!” you hiss, leaning in closer, pointing a trembling finger at him. “That exact face you make when something doesn’t please the almighty Yeonjun. You’re a fucking bastard, Yeonjun. You lie, you fight, you ruin everything good, and you cheat.”

At this, he grabs your hand, his grip firm. “Cheat?” His voice is low, dangerous, his eyes burning into yours with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, you broke up with me. Didn’t even have the decency to tell me why. And now you’re here, accusing me of cheating? Is that really why you left me?”

You glare back at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m sure you did, Yeonjun. With Nari.”

His face falls for a split second, the anger faltering as a flash of hurt crosses his features. He stumbles back slightly, his hands dropping to his sides. “Wow...” he breathes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “This is just... great.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, before shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, I’m not dealing with this shit.” He grabs his keys and wallet off the table, heading for the door with long, angry strides. The door slams behind him with a force that reverberates through the apartment, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, reeling from what just happened.

“Fuck...” you whisper to yourself, the weight of the argument settling on your shoulders. You know you should just let him go, but something inside you refuses to leave things like this. Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you rush after him, leaving behind your pride. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to hear his side of the story.

As you hurry down the stairs, your footsteps echo in the stairwell, amplifying your growing desperation. You spot Yeonjun far ahead, his figure a shadow in the dimly lit space. “Yeonjun!” Your voice is firm, laced with the urgency of everything unsaid. But he doesn’t respond, his pace steady and unrelenting.

Bursting out of the building, you speed-walk after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeonjun!” you shout, your voice cracking with frustration and anger. He continues to ignore you, his focus entirely on his car as he throws his belongings into the passenger seat with a controlled fury. You scurry over, desperation driving your steps, and grab his arm just as he reaches for the door handle. “Yeonjun…”

He shakes your hand off with a harsh flick, his movements sharp, and slides into the driver’s seat. You move without thinking, planting yourself directly in front of his car, the headlights casting long shadows behind you. The weight of your actions hits you as he honks, the sound jarring in the empty parking lot.

You’re the one who ended it, so why are you here now, standing in his way, demanding answers you thought you never wanted before?

With a final, angry honk, Yeonjun’s patience snaps. He explodes out of the car, slamming the door so hard the sound echos in the parking lot. His eyes blaze with barely contained anger as he strides toward you, his hands gripping your arms with a force that borders on painful.

“YN, seriously. What do you want?” His voice is a low growl, each word dripping with the frustration and pain he’s held back for too long.

“Yeonjun, I just want to hear your side.” Your voice trembles, your previous tone slipping away as the reality of the situation crashes over you.

He pauses, another bitter laugh escaping his lips as he looks down, shaking his head. “My side?” His voice is laced with incredulity. “You’re two years late, YN.”

Desperation claws at you. “Then tell me now—did you cheat on me with Nari?”

His gaze snaps back to you, eyes narrowed. “No. And for fuck’s sake…” He looks away, running a hand through his hair, the movement jerky, frustrated. “We’re not even dating, YN. She’s just a friend. Believe that or don’t—I don’t care anymore.” His voice drips with a mixture of exhaustion and disdain. “Happy now?”

“Yeonjun…” The word is a broken whisper, a mix of confusion and the lingering echoes of mistrust.

He whips his head back towards you, the anger flaring up again. “YN, you don’t get to say my name. Not.. like that. Not anymore.”

“But, Yeonjun—” You’re cut off by the intensity of his gaze as he takes a deep breath, his hands trembling as they reach for your face. He hesitates for a moment before cradling your cheeks gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his eyes.

“No, YN, you don’t understand.” His voice cracks, the anger giving way to a raw, vulnerable pain that takes you by surprise. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these two years? After you?” His words hang in the air, each one weighted with years of buried emotions. “Do you know that after you just deserted me like we were nothing, I locked myself away for weeks? Do you know that, YN?” His voice rises, the tears welling up in his eyes breaking free.

You feel your own tears threatening to spill over as you listen, the weight of his pain crushing you. “Do you?” he presses, his voice dropping to a whisper, as though the admission itself is too much to bear. “Of course you don’t. You blocked me on everything. You erased me from your life as if we never existed.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away, his composure crumbling. “I know I wasn’t perfect. We weren’t perfect. But we were trying, we were learning. And then you just gave up. You gave up on us, on me.”

His breath is warm against your face, contrasting sharply with the cool night air. “I’d like to know your side, YN. Why? What made you break up with me?”

Your eyes blur with tears, each blink sending droplets cascading down your cheeks. His face is so close now, his presence overwhelming. “Hm?” he murmurs, his voice softening as he leans in, his lips brushing the side of your cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Why?”

He moves across your face, leaving a trail of kisses, each one a question, each one a plea. “How?” Another kiss, his breath hot against your skin. “How could you leave me for that kid?”

Your mind races, the past and present colliding in a storm of emotions. You should answer him, give him the closure he deserves, but your voice is trapped in your throat. You realize now that you were wrong—so wrong about Yeonjun.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with yours. His large hand snakes around your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He holds you there, his grip firm but gentle, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing you all over again.

Yeonjun’s voice drops to a whisper, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that’s almost heartbreaking. “Tell me, YN,” he pleads, his gaze locked onto yours, desperate and vulnerable. The world around you seems to pause as you both stand there, holding onto each other like lifelines, lost in the moment.

Just as you gather the strength to answer, Yeonjun shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his face. “No... actually. I don’t want to know. I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. The abrupt change in his demeanor leaves you confused, your eyebrows knitting together as you try to process his words.

“Just tell me one thing,” he whispers, his breath hitching as he stares at your lips, then flicks his eyes back to yours. “C-can I kiss you?”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep within you. “Jun…” His name falls from your lips, barely audible, as if you’re testing the sound of it. You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Yeonjun,” you breathe. You look into his eyes, seeing beyond just your reflection and his dark magnetising pupils, and into the raw, unfiltered desperation. Yeonjun truly loves you—there’s no denying it now.

You inhale sharply, the reality of the moment crashing down on you. “Y-yes,” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s enough.

Before you can take another breath, his lips crash into yours, and the world around you disappears. The kiss is urgent, almost frantic, as if he’s afraid this moment will slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. There’s no grace in it—only raw emotion, the kind that has been building for years, waiting to burst.

You melt into him, savouring everything about him—the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin, the way his body presses against yours with both tenderness and urgency. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

The kiss intensifies, becoming rougher, more desperate, as if the years apart have created a hunger that neither of you can control. His hands move with a purpose, lifting you effortlessly onto the trunk of his car, the cold metal beneath you a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

Everything is happening so fast, too fast, but your body reacts instinctively, arching into him as he presses against you, his hips grinding into your clothed core. A gasp escapes your lips, breaking the kiss, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth trails down your neck, leaving a burning path of kisses and fresh red marks that make your skin tingle.

“Junnie…” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions—desire, uncertainty, and the lingering fear that this might not be the way to mend what was broken. But Yeonjun is relentless, his focus entirely on you, on this moment, as if nothing else matters.

You’re caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your thoughts spinning as fast as your heart. Is this the right way to rekindle what you once had? The question lingers in the back of your mind, but it’s drowned out by the intensity of Yeonjun’s determination. He’s here, he’s real, and right now, he’s all that you can think about.

Yeonjun’s breath hitches as he presses closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, desperate whisper. “YN, I need you... fuck,” he groans, the hardness beneath his pants pressing against you as his hand slowly slides up your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His lips pause against your skin, and he murmurs, “Need you to say you need me too.”

Your mind is hazy, drunk on the intoxicating feel of his lips worshipping every inch of you. The words barely escape your mouth, a soft, breathless, “Need you too,” as your fingers tangle in his hair, nails gently raking over his scalp, eliciting a low hum of satisfaction from him.

His grip tightens around your legs, guiding them to wrap around his waist with a possessive urgency. “No need to be so shy,” he whispers, the corner of his mouth curling into a playful smirk that you can feel against your skin as he peppers your face with kisses. In one swift motion, he lifts you effortlessly and opens the back passenger door, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin.

Clinging to him tightly, he gently lays you down on the seat, your back sinking into the plush leather. Your eyes drift over his body, taking in every detail—the veins standing out against his skin from the strain of holding you, the way his hair sticks to the beads of sweat on his forehead. Your hand reaches up, brushing his hair back, leaving it slightly slicked as he kisses his way down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing circles that make you squirm beneath him.

He finally pulls back, his eyes dark and intense as he studies your face, his arms braced on either side of you, framing your face. For a moment, he just watches you, a strand of his hair falling out of place, and it’s the second hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The first is the sight of him as he pulls away, sitting up, leaning back against the window with his legs spread wide, his gaze smouldering as he taps his lap, silently inviting you to crawl over and cradle him.

But you’ve got something better in mind. Words fail you, but your actions won’t. You sit up slowly, turning to face him before lowering your upper body, arching your back and lifting your hips as you move toward his lap.

Yeonjun’s eyebrow arches in surprise, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “Wanna make you feel good, Junnie,” you coo, your voice soft and teasing as you gaze up at him through your lashes. The sight of you like this makes his heart race, his pulse quickening as his desire for you intensifies.

You lick your lips, the anticipation building as you balance yourself on his lap, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your eyes never leave his, the connection between you electric as you slowly slide his pants down, your gaze locked on his, every movement deliberate and charged with tension.

As you slide his pants off, your eyes widen at the sight of him. His hardness stands tall, pressing against his stomach, a stain of wetness seeping through the fabric of his boxers by his tip. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you reach out, your finger lightly brushing the spot where he’s leaking. He hisses, his eyes locked on yours, watching your every move with an intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You trace the outline of his length with your fingernail, feeling the hard, pulsing veins beneath the thin fabric. The sensation drives him wild, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. You press down, earning a chorus of hisses and groans that only fuel your desire. Your palm flattens against him, moving slowly over the length of his boxer-clad heat. You can’t help but lick your lips, practically drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth.

Lifting your thumb, you press it against his tip, feeling the warmth and wetness beneath. But before you can go further, his hand snaps to your wrist, gripping it tightly as he lets out a low, guttural groan. “Stop playing,” he growls, the sound rough and commanding, sending a shiver of excitement through you.

You smirk, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking. Slowly, teasingly, you lower your hands to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. Your eyes dilate at the sight before you—his full length, hard and ready, standing proud.

Wasting no time, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the weight and heat of him in your grasp. You pump him a few times, eliciting a deep groan from his throat, before you lean in, your tongue darting out to gently flick across his tip like a teasing kitten. The sensation is too much for him to bear, and his hands fly to your hair, tangling in the strands.

When you take him fully into your mouth, enveloping him in your warm, soft lips, he loses control. His grip on your hair tightens as he lets out a strangled gasp. “S-shit,” he stammers, his voice strained with pleasure. “Only I should see you like this, hm?” His hands tug at your hair, lifting your head so he can look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze nearly overwhelming.

You groan deeply, the sound vibrating through your body and into his, drawing a low moan from Yeonjun. Your tongue works expertly around his length, flicking and swirling over the sensitive head, teasing the skin where it meets the shaft. With Yeonjun’s impressive size, you’re able to take him into your mouth while your hand wraps around the base, moving in sync with your mouth in smooth, circular motions. Your wrist twists with each stroke, ensuring he feels every bit of your attention.

The car fills with a symphony of lewd, wet sounds—the slickness of your efforts combined with his, the steady rhythm of sucking, and the occasional slurp as you work him over. It’s a soundscape pulled straight from the most explicit fantasies, made even more intense by his deep, throaty groans and the filth he whispers under his breath. Your own body responds involuntarily, heat pooling between your legs, your core aching with need, practically dripping from the sheer eroticism of the moment.

“Uhhh, fuck… I’m… fucki-ng close,” he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. He squirms slightly, adjusting his position as he grips your head with a possessive intensity. Despite the pressure, the fact that he’s now thrusting into your mouth keeps you steady, your focus entirely on him.

Yeonjun shifts, planting one knee on the leather seat between your legs for balance while the other foot remains on the floor. You instinctively adjust as well, spreading your knees wider, your toes curling as they press into the seat beneath you. Your upper body remains steady as he takes control, thrusting faster and deeper, each movement more urgent than the last.

“Does… he—” He grunts, thrusting sloppily, “Does his cock taste… or feel half as good as mine?” The words are edged with jealousy and possessiveness, but you’re unable to respond, your entire mouth and throat occupied by his cock. Your hands clutch at his bare thighs for support. Your glossy eyes meet his, tears threatening to spill as his length hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly. He looks down, his expression one of dominance, searching your eyes as if expecting an answer, though he knows you can’t give one.

“Thought so,” he murmurs, smirking at his own satisfaction, his voice dripping with self-assurance. A low, breathless laugh escapes him. “Fuuuuck…” The syllables draw out, his head falling back as his movements grow more erratic and sloppy. “Take your shirt off, now,” he demands, his voice rough with need.

Without hesitation, your hands move faster than your thoughts, peeling the fabric from your body. As you lift your shirt over your head, his length slips from your mouth with a distinctive ‘pop,’ leaving you breathless. You toss the shirt aside, quickly unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car.

Yeonjun’s eyes are locked onto you, his hand furiously pumping himself, his breathing ragged as he watches. With a few final strokes, he comes undone, his release shooting out in thick, warm spurts onto your bare chest. The force of it has him throwing his head back, a loud, extended “fuck” tearing from his throat as his body shudders with the intensity of his climax.

Visibly spent but far from satisfied, Yeonjun’s dark, lustful gaze locks onto your cum-streaked body, his breath heavy and ragged. You expect him to take a moment to recover, but instead, he commands through his labored breaths, “Undress. All of it.” His voice is low, dripping with desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

Driven by the hunger in his eyes, you quickly discard your pants, leaving only your underwear clinging to your skin. Meanwhile, Yeonjun tears off his shirt, revealing his sculpted, sweat-slicked torso. As you finish, he’s already on you, your bodies colliding, sticky with sweat and remnants of his release. His arms encircle you tightly, his intense gaze boring into yours as he lowers you onto the seat, his body hovering, exuding dominance.

The moment his weight lifts from you, the cum that once joined your bodies drips back onto your chest, and you catch the glint of dark amusement in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he dips his head, tongue darting out to gather his droplets, then hovers above you. His fingers gently pry your lips open, and he lets the cum drop from his mouth onto your outstretched tongue. “Taste me,” he whispers, the command seeping into your skin as his mouth crashes onto yours, deepening the connection in a slow, fervent kiss.

His hand slides up your body, smearing the evidence of his release over your skin. The warmth of his palm, the deliberate pinch of your nipple, sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you arch into his touch. He breaks the kiss, moving his mouth down your chest, his tongue and lips worshipping your flesh, savoring the mixture of sweat and his essence.

Each flick of his tongue over your nipples, each gentle tug, ignites a fire within you, leaving you squirming beneath him. But his firm grip on you ensures your movements are minimal, controlled, just as he likes it. His lips continue their descent, marking your skin with purples and reds, a visual testament to his possession.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the skin just above your underwear, “how much I missed this.” His words, coupled with the sensation of his mouth and hands, make you whimper, your desire pooling between your thighs.

As his face reaches your thighs, he kisses the tender flesh there, his hands caressing you, teasing you. When he finally positions himself over your core, his eyes meet yours with a devilish smile, and without another word, he lowers his mouth to your most sensitive spot.

Yeonjun’s tongue flattens against your soaked underwear, teasing your core with deliberate, languid strokes. His mouth explores every contour of your folds, shaping them with expert precision, each movement sending a ripple of pleasure through your body. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, your breath hitching as his tongue presses firmly against the center of your desire. He pushes against your entrance, the fabric of your underwear creating a tantalising barrier, before he uses the hard edge of his bottom teeth to graze upward along your sensitive flesh, drawing out a sharp gasp from you.

You can’t help but lower your gaze, watching him intently, eyes locked on his every movement. He meets your gaze, his eyes dark with lust, as he takes the waistband of your underwear between his teeth, slowly pulling them down, the fabric dragging across your skin until it’s finally discarded with a flick of his head. The sight of him, smirking with your underwear still between his teeth, sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, he dives back between your thighs, his tongue finding its way to the inside of your folds, massaging them with a fervor that makes your entire body quake. He licks and flicks at your entrance, his tongue reaching deeper than you thought possible for a tongue, drawing out moans and gasps from you. His rough thumb finds your clit, rubbing it with just enough friction to make you writhe beneath him. The dry texture of his thumb against your sensitive bud amplifies every sensation, and your legs instinctively lift, disrupting his rhythm.

But Yeonjun’s resolve is unwavering. His strong hands grip your thighs, pinning them in place as he growls a warning, “Stay still, sweetie.” His voice is thick with desire, his focus entirely on pleasuring you. “Mhm and how sweet you taste,” he murmurs against your skin, making your face flush with heat. You turn your head to the side, embarrassed by his praise, but unable to suppress the pleasure coursing through you.

His tongue circles your clit with calculated pressure, and you become a moaning mess beneath him. Just when you think you can’t take any more, he slides a finger inside you, his touch skilled and unyielding. “Can’t believe someone else heard these sounds from you,” he mutters, his voice low. The words send a thrill through you, intensifying the ache building inside you.

Yeonjun glances up, admiring the sight before him—your flushed face framed by your heaving chest, the curve of your body leading to the apex of your desire. His own arousal pulses with need, but he stays focused on your pleasure, adding another finger and curling them inside you while his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. His other hand finds your breast, kneading it with just enough pressure to make you arch into his touch.

The sensations are overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, and you call out his name, “J-jun-ie, I’m so close, I—ah!” The words spill from your lips, half-whined, half-sobbed. He seizes the moment, his voice a seductive purr as he asks, “Who do you belong to, YN? Who?” His question is punctuated by deep, consuming kisses, his lips never leaving your body.

“Yeonjun, Yeonjunnn, Yeonjunnnn,” you whimper, his name tumbling from your lips over and over, each repetition more desperate than the last. Your voice quivers, caught between pleasure and urgency, barely coherent as you’re overwhelmed by sensation. Though unsure if you’re truly responding to his question or lost in the throes of ecstasy, he chooses to believe your words are an affirmation, a declaration of belonging that feeds his need to claim you. The satisfaction inside his chest deepens, even as a flicker of uncertainty lingers, making your submission all the more intoxicating.

As the pleasure crests, you come undone around him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Yeonjun’s jaw never slackens, his tongue and lips working to capture every drop of you, pushing you past the point of overstimulation until your body is trembling from the intensity.

You have to physically push him off you to break the contact with your core. Both of you are gasping, his breaths ragged as though he forgot to breathe while he was lost in you. His lips are red, plump, and swollen from their relentless work.

He sits up, still catching his breath, and swipes his tongue across his lips before wiping away the lingering moisture. “Need you, Yeonjun,” you murmur, thighs pressing together, desperate for some relief. “You think you’re ready?” he teases, his voice laced with playful challenge. “Mhm,” you reply instantly, the desperation clear in your tone.

He chuckles at your eagerness, reclining back into the spot he occupied earlier when you were blowing him, his head resting against the window, his body relaxed. “Then show me how ready you are.” His words fuel your need, and despite the lingering tremors in your legs from your climax, you move to straddle him, your bodies pressing together, warmth meeting warmth. Your core hovers just above his hardness, and as you begin to lower yourself, his hands grip your hips, guiding you to rub against him instead. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and soon you’re grinding against him, your movements instinctive, fueled by need. The air fills with the sound of your shared curses, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

“Need you so badly, Jun...” you almost beg, your hips moving of their own accord. He meets your pleading gaze and releases his hold on your hips, granting you the freedom you crave. Without hesitation, you lift yourself slightly and take hold of him, aligning his length with your aching core. Your hand finds his shoulder for support as you slowly sink down, enveloping him fully.

The sensation defies description, the delicious stretch of his length inside you making your head fall back, eyes rolling in pure bliss. Instinctively, you lean into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you, hands soothingly caressing your back as he waits for your next move.

“All good, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice soft with concern as his fingers gently brush your hair aside, his eyes searching for yours.

“Mhm, so good...” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. His laughter rumbles through his chest, a sound of satisfaction that makes you feel even more connected to him. Gathering your strength, you begin to ride him, each movement slow and deliberate at first, your focus entirely on the sensation of him filling you. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, muffling your moans as you concentrate on keeping your pace steady.

But Yeonjun isn’t satisfied with silence. He slips a finger between your lips, prying them open. “I want to hear you,” he whispers, his eyes pleading. With your mouth now free, your moans spill out, unrestrained. “Fuck, Yeonjun, so good,” you choke out, your pace quickening, your eyebrows knitting together in pure pleasure. His groans beneath you are a clear sign that he’s just as lost in the sensation.

He pulls you closer, his hand gripping the nape of your neck as he brings your face inches from his, his eyes piercing into yours. “You ride me so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a rough kiss to your lips. “Do you ride him like this?” His voice drops lower, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, “Is his cock as good as mine?”

Your rhythm falters as his words sink in, your movements growing more erratic. Noticing your fatigue, Yeonjun takes control, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he lays you back against the leather seat, his cock still buried deep inside you. Your breath comes in short gasps, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer as if you could meld your bodies into one.

His hair falls forward, framing his intense gaze, his lips tugged into a dark, signature smirk. The sight of him, so utterly captivating, makes your heart ache with a longing you hadn’t realised was still there. As he begins to move, his hips driving into you with renewed vigor, your back arches off the seat, your body instinctively responding to the pleasure. “I missed this, Yeon...” you manage to moan out, “Jun...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a bitter edge to it, one you’re too lost in pleasure to notice. His mind drifts, remembering the pain of your separation, the doubts that plagued him. “Does he fuck you like this?” he mutters, though his voice is strained, not truly expecting an answer. “Does he leave marks like these?” His fingers press against the bruises he left earlier, his touch possessive.

“Does he make you moan like this?” His hand wraps around your throat, his grip tightening slightly, the question more of a growl than a whisper, his eyes glossing over with a mix of pain and desire. It’s as if he’s losing himself, too wrapped up in the physical to recognise the emotional turmoil beneath it all.

But you bring him back. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that’s both tender and fierce, grounding him in the present. When you pull away, your eyes lock onto his, your fingers brushing away the tear that slips down his cheek, a stark contrast to the rough rhythm of his thrusts.

“No, Yeonjun. No one else,” you say firmly, your voice carrying a truth that he can’t deny. He searches your gaze, looking for any hint of a lie, but all he finds is sincerity. A sigh of relief escapes him, his grip on your throat loosening.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, his tone filled with regret as he dips his head, his hands moving to cradle your hips. “Let me make it up to you.” His voice is soft, his mind now focused on one thing: making you feel every ounce of love he still holds for you. His thrusts become more deliberate, aiming to hit that perfect spot inside you with each movement, his eyes locked onto your face as your moans create a symphony of pleasure.

The car rocks with the intensity of his movements, the sounds of skin against skin filling the small space. “I’m close, Yeonjun,” you gasp out, your arms clinging to him as if he were your only anchor in a storm of sensations.

He doesn’t relent, his pace constant, his dirty words whispered against your skin sending your mind into a spin. You wrap yourself around him, holding on as you reach your peak, your body trembling with the force of your release. It’s not just the release of tonight’s tension, but of all the pent-up emotions from the years you spent apart.

Yeonjun isn’t far behind, his release coming in powerful waves as he fills you completely. The car falls silent, the only sounds left are your breaths and the gentle hum of the night outside. His arms remain tightly wrapped around you, as if he’s afraid to let go, as if holding you will keep you here, with him.

Slowly, he pulls back, his movements gentle as he slips out of you, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness. A mix of your juices leaks out, and Yeonjun can’t resist lowering his head to lick at your sensitive core, cleaning up the mess he made. You squirm beneath him, overstimulated, but he’s quick to finish, his lips leaving your skin with a final, tender kiss.

Reaching into the front seat, he grabs a small blanket and drapes it over your bodies. He props your head up on his jacket, fashioned into a makeshift pillow, before lying down beside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his body warm against yours as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

Exhausted and sated, neither of you speaks. You just lie there, naked under the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms. Whatever tomorrow brings, whatever questions about your relationship remain unanswered, they can wait. Tonight, you sleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace, content for the first time in a long while.

-

The next morning, you’re startled awake by the loud, chirpy voice of Beomgyu, laughing and saying something you’re too tired to comprehend. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the morning. The first thing you see is Beomgyu, snapping pictures of you and Yeonjun, who are tangled up on the cramped seat of Yeonjun’s car. Beside him, Nari is laughing, playfully slapping his arm to make him stop.

Yeonjun stirs beside you, groaning at the noise and the light streaming in. He notices your movement and is greeted with the same sight—Beomgyu dancing around outside the window, grinning like a fool. Yeonjun lets out another groan, clearly unimpressed.

Beomgyu, ever the mischief-maker, pulls Nari close, pressing her against him in a mock imitation of what you two had been doing last night. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore his antics. “Good morning,” you mutter to Yeonjun, deciding to focus on him instead of Beomgyu’s immaturity. From the way Nari and Beomgyu are behaving, you can only assume their night went just as well.

But as you sit up, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, you’re hit with a wave of confusion. Were Yeonjun and Nari really just friends then? The thought leaves you unsettled, and Yeonjun’s expression mirrors your confusion. What was actually going on?

You shoo away Beomgyu with a wave of your hand, and Nari drags Beomgyu away with a grin. Yeonjun slowly sits up, reaching for his clothes scattered on the floor. “Morning,” he replies, his voice stiff, as if unsure of what to say.

You both dress in the peaceful silence that falls after Beomgyu’s departure, the morning air now calm. Once fully clothed, Yeonjun opens the car door, letting in a refreshing breeze. He steps out, stretches, and then offers you his hand. You take it, grateful for his support as you struggle to stand upright.

He leads you to the entrance of the apartment, where Beomgyu is waiting with his usual devilish grin. “Don’t worry, lovebirds,” he says, tapping the elevator beside him with a wink. “Elevators are fixed, just for you two.” If you had the energy, you’d probably smack him, but you’re too drained to even try.

The four of you wait for the elevator, and when it arrives, you all step in. The ride up is awkward, the tension of unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. “So…” Nari finally speaks, breaking the silence. She clears her throat, glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Um, just so you know, Yeonjun and I were never really dating. We’re just friends. That kiss at the bar last night? Was the first and last time.”

You turn to look at her, slightly surprised. “Oh… I see.”

“Yeah,” she continues, her voice lightening. “Honestly, I brought Yeonjun to make Beomgyu jealous. That’s all.” She laughs, and you can’t help but join in. After all, Beomgyu basically did the same thing.

“And Beomgyu told me about you guys,” Nari adds, her laughter infectious. Yeonjun, who has been silent until now, finally turns to face her, his interest piqued.

“Oh… Did she not tell you yet?” Beomgyu asks, looking between the two of you, confused. “No?” Yeonjun replies, equally confused.

Just as another question is about to be asked, the elevator doors slide open, and Beomgyu and Nari quickly exit, eager to escape the tension. You and Yeonjun follow, your body leaning against him for support as you’re still feeling the aftereffects of last night.

Inside Beomgyu’s apartment, Yeonjun gently sets you down on the couch and helps you remove your shoes. “We’ll be in the bedroom for, uh, a few seconds,” Beomgyu says with a grin, pointing between himself and Nari.

“Uh-huh,” Yeonjun responds, still perplexed. As the two disappear into the bedroom, you’re left alone with Yeonjun, and now is the perfect time to clear the air.

You turn to face him, gathering your thoughts. “Yeonjun.” He gives you his full attention, his expression serious. “Beomgyu and I were never dating either. He’s actually my friend from kindergarten…”

You pause, watching his reaction. “Beomgyu wanted to see Nari again, and this was his dumb idea to make it happen. He didn’t even know we were exes. It was just a crazy coincidence that we both ended up here.”

“And we’ve never done anything like… that,” you add, your voice softening. He knows exactly what you mean. “Ever since we broke up,” you continue, licking your lips nervously, “I haven’t even taken any interest to another guy. I haven’t moved on. I couldn’t.”

His face remains unreadable, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. “Yeonjun, breaking up with you was my biggest mistake,” you admit, your voice wavering. “I was dealing with so much in my own head, and we were younger, and I didn’t realize how much our relationship meant. I thought it was holding me back, but I was blind to all the good parts.”

He sighs, his chest rising and falling as he processes your words. His eyes drop to the floor, lost in thought. You move closer, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your thumb brushing against his skin. “For wasting so much time, for hurting you.”

You hesitate before adding, “I understand if you’re not ready to get back together—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. “No, I want to get back together. It’s what I’ve needed for the past two years, Y/N.” His words bring a smile to your face, and he takes your hand in his. “And if you’re ready, I’d like to start fresh. Better than before.”

“I’d love that, Yeonjun,” you reply, your heart swelling with relief. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes still closed. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Yeonjun,” you respond, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, savoring the closeness.

Suddenly, your moment is interrupted by a loud moan from the bedroom. “Oh, Beomgyu!” The sound is unmistakable, and you and Yeonjun snap your eyes open, exchanging shocked looks before bursting into laughter. Yeonjun’s signature laugh fills the room, his eyes squinting into crescents as his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of shock and amusement.

“Fuckkk,” Beomgyu’s voice echoes through the walls, followed by the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. “Oh gosh, let’s get out of here,” you say, scrambling to get off the couch, your face flushed with embarrassment.

Yeonjun agrees, quickly putting on his shoes. “You like that, huh?” Beomgyu’s voice continues, and you and Yeonjun exchange horrified glances as you both rush to leave.

“Yeah, no, we’re leaving,” Yeonjun says, scooping you up into his arms and hurrying you out the door.

“Yeonjun!” you squeal, laughing as he carries you outside. “Where are we even going?”

“My apartment,” he answers with a smile, the two of you leaving Beomgyu’s place behind, a trail of giggles following in your wake.

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

(Author's notes)

Hi this is my first ever Tumblr story that's this long! So, I would appreciate if you comment any feedback or critiques!

I will be making a master-list to organise my work really soon :).

I'm also working on another story currently, that I believe is longer and has a more intense plot. It includes smut but it is more of detective psychological story with plot twists. I still haven't fully decided who to pair it with (I'm open to any group I'm familiar with; BTS, TXT, SVT, ATZ, ENHA, ZB1 etc..), so if you would like a specific member for this story lmk! I'll try to take in your suggestions :D! I will also be posting a prolougue/teaser to it soon.

If you'd like to be in my taglist please reply and lmk.

I take in requests! So, feel free to send any in :)!

So yeah, hope this story was an enjoyable read! Have a great day loves 💕.

[casperth3ghost]

"mundane hcs" but its acc just shit i do on a daily basis

ANYWAYS, a list of random things i do that i think tts & vat7k characters would do‼️(this is like most characters btw, like not js the main ones this is like as many as i can remeber and that fit with my self projection

lance will get home from the busiest day ever and the first thing he does is make himself a bowl of ice cream, no matter what hour of the day, he WILL have a bowl of ice cream

varian tries to brush his teeth twice a day but usually how it goes is he takes a shower and then lays and bed lying to himself like "yeah ill js rest my eyes for a couple minutes and then ill get up" and then he actually falls asleep, but every morning he brushes his teeth with no problems

eugene used to brag about how many cavities hed get until he had to take care of them and started missing when he didnt have any

rapunzel can be mid convo with somebody while texting them and then out of the blue just space out and like "huh..." when she realizes what js happened

cassandra and yong are both lactose intolerant but cass tries to take care of herself(she drinks almond milk & eats frozen yogurt which are 10/10 alternatives for non-lactose free items BTW) but yong just keeps eating everything and then wonders why he feel absolutely diobolical 10 mins later

catalina says shell start a book and then reads 1 page then forgets about it for around 3 months ans then remeber and the gets so focused on it no one knows if shes okay, angry does the same thing but with tv shows

nuru tends to not stop what shes doing to go pee so shes suffered the consequences(shes had a UTI before)

rapunzel, despite telling everyone around her to drink water, shes always suprisingly dehydrated

ulla will wake up at random times at night wondering why the fuck shes awake and then go right back to bed like nothing happened

donella has thought of multiple schemes to kill people but has decided that for her own good she will not commit any of them

quirin forgets to say please and thank you at restruants and then says them last minute and then gets so embarrassed and akward he will just flat out stop talking, he passed this onto varian who seems to suffer with this to even MORE extent bcuz he doesnt realize when someone is complimenting him so he'll just stare at them and then be liek "oh!! oh my gosh thank you!!" but the person already walked away and now he feels like an asshole

adira will wear the same pair of pants for 3 weeks straight w/o washing them bcuz she wears other pairs in between that pair so she has a pant cycle, but none of the pants get washed until she can acc smell like dog shit on them or smth and realizes just how morbidly gross they are

hector says hes a hopeless romantic but has never fallen in love a day in his life

donella knows every word to satisfied from hamilton but she literallt doesnt relate to angelica in any way, shape, or form

catalina is a shameless taylor swift fan

angry is a taylor fan but she will always refuse to admit it bcuz idk she feels ashamed

rapunzel will find a band that scratches her brain and listen to that band until it is literally impossible for her to do so anymore

cassandra loves fettuchini alfredo

king edmund is an accidental social butterfly

queen ariana had attempted to drown willow in a pool more times than she can count

kind fredric will butt into random convos if even just 1 word peaks his intrest

hugo knows how to crochet but never has enough money or motivation to actually make something even mildly useful

hugo is a "booktok" girly but he doesnt and never has had enough money to invest in the shit ton pile of books he wants

varian would rather go to a meuseum then lay in bed at his house

ulla would do cartwheels in an aquarium if she could w/o getting kicked out

cyrus says goodnight and goodbye to everyone but can never muster up to say "i love you" after just bcuz he thinks itll be too akward😓

amber is the type of gay girl to say "ewww lesbian/gay" to her friend/gf bcuz they say smth gay knowing she is just as queer

uhhhh thats all i can think of rn, but like this is mostly based off shit i do... so take all that as you will🤺‼️ ill post any art i decide to shit out in the next couple of days on here but also a reminder i am painfully active on pintrest so uhhh ya:3!! BTW most of these hcs are just stupid and for fun so like pls dont get offended and feel free to add on or give suggestions:3!!

[bedsyandco]

🎆 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 (𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)

violetkingston

🎵american nights / zach bryan

liked by lukehughes, ethanedwards, and others.

violetkingston: 🇺🇸🦅🍒

view all comments

lukehughes: only you can get away with this😀

lukehughes: my favourite fireworks buddy ❤️

-> jackhughes: you two were so busy making out you missed the fireworks😒

daisymonroe: AH LIBERTY LUKE🗽🇱🇷

-> violetkingston: and your man 🧍‍♂️

ethanedwards: the boys are hanging soon. ditch luke and come join us

-> violetkingston: reserving space in my calendar 😗

jackhughes: using this pic is asking for trouble. better sleep with one eye open

lucafantilli: felt a little pang in my chest when I saw this. almost like I miss you ✋

-> violetkingston: so strange😲 I had the same feeling when you were doing your italy dumps. miss you too bud😗

user13: the shoes are so cute 💌

-> violetkingston: right?? they crease real bad cause I keep dancing in them but i’m obsessed🥰

azaleayang: ❤️

-> violetkingston: 😗❤️

daisymonroe

🎵party in the USA / miley cyrus

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, and others.

daisymonroe: weekend recap 💌🍉🇺🇸🎆👩‍❤️‍👨

view more comments

azaleayang: the jack and rosie girl pic😭 so precious🥹

-> daisymonroe: right??🥲🥰

violetkingston: your outfits always eat 🙂‍↕️

-> daisymonroe: I look like a mom 😕 but thank you 🤍

-> jackhughes: momMY🥵

-> quinnhughes: 🤨🤨🤨

-> lukehughes: ew

jackhughes: my girl❤️ love you

user23: anyone else notice her and violet have the same bag?? I wonder if it’s intentional or just accidental

-> user13: either way it’s super cute. they need to get azzie one

trevorzegras: missing my bug 🐛

-> colecaufiled: not as much as I miss her 🤨

-> daisymonroe: you both saw her the other day😭

-> trevorzegras: yeah and? she hasn’t called in three days. that’s way too long for her. what’s she been doing?

-> daisymonroe: sitting on uncle luke’s shoulders the whole day, making snores with aunty az and then passing out on her dads chest. she’s a busy gal

azaleayang

🎵national anthem / lana del rey

liked by quinnhughes, lukehughes, and others.

azaleayang: first july 4th was a success ☺️💙🫐

view all comments

daisymonroe: the flowers. so sweet🥹

-> azaleayang: they were so beautiful, the pictures don’t do them justice

user16: they all have the same bag omggg??

-> user29: that’s so cute 🥹

quinnhughes: next year we do canada day 🇨🇦🍁

-> azaleayang: 🥰🥰

[emilywaters]

I have so many thoughts on the motives of the different gangs and what they represent in the musical bcs it directly correlates to reasons why gangs are formed in the first place, which is in direct contrast to the message from the 1979 movie portraying all gangs as ones of pointless violence and wrongdoing.

1. The warriors - support and sisterhood

Right from the start we see the warriors looking out for each other. Cleon's first concern after Cyrus was killed was her warriors and getting them out safe. Every time they fought, it was to defend themselves, to get home alive. The warriors exist as a place to belong. We see this in 'A Light or Something', where we learn that Swan was homeless before Cleon took her in. The warriors exist for community, for support. The first thing they do after getting away was making sure everyone got out after Cleon went down. This is in direct contrast to the rogues, where the moment Luther lost they began running. "My crew would die for me, loyalty matters." They exist to uplift each other, for community and family to people society ignores and abuses.

2. The bizzies and the hurricanes - justice

Both the bizzies and the hurricanes went after the warriors to get justice for Cyrus. It was out of outrage, righteous anger fueling their desire to hurt them back. This shows another, more active, form of protection. The two groups have never met, but for that moment where they were fighting for Cyrus they were unified in the way Cyrus was hoping to achieve. If the warriors exist to give a safe space to marginalized communities, the bizzies and the hurricanes exist to defend that space, to stand up to those who threaten that community.

3. The orphans - ego and power

From the very start we see the orphans ego. They talk misogynistic rhetoric and boasts and gloat bcs they don't see the warriors as a threat. They exist to copy off bigger fish and live vicariously by terrorizing those they consider weaker. But the moment the warriors decided to stop pandering to them, they ran off. There is no real power in them and they exist to bully the weaker while themselves never fighting those stronger than them. They're no better than schoolyard bullies, each of them enabling the others. The orphans exist to cushion each other's egos, with nothing substantial. If I had to use a modern analogy, they would be the boys who listen to alpha male podcasts then be dicks to everyone around them.

4. The rogues - violence

Luther commits violence for the sake of violence. He benefits off a divided system, there he can cause havoc and slip away while blaming someone else. He would be a policeman's last suspect, bcs everyone believes the white man. He is free to do as he pleases with no consequences. But if Cyrus's plan worked, all the infighting would stop. Then his actions will be spotlighted and he would have to deal with the consequences of them. If Cyrus's plan worked he would loose his advantages of favouritism. So he kills Cyrus. With her dead and the gangs back at each other's throats, he's free to run around unnoticed, with his violence for the sake of violence. He has no personal motive outside defending the privileges he holds. His violence is purely to allow him more violence. And when he gets caught he melts into a pathetic creature whining and whimpering bcs at the end of the day he wasn't anything more.

5. The police - hypocrisy and the law

The police exist solely to chase after the warriors with no regards to their innocence. They do not believe them, or trust them, or help them. People who are supposed to protect the most vulnerable individuals intentionally do the opposite. The policeman at the park shamelessly catcalls the girls. The officer in the station actively chases them, despite having no real reason to. The officers are the worst bcs they are supposed to be the ones protecting them and instead become the perpetrators of these crimes and then get away with no repercussions. And then you see why the gangs were formed.

If the people meant to protect them do the complete opposite, assume their guilt, accuse and abuse and treat them as inferiors, then they need to get together and protect each other.

And there we have our answer. Gangs exist to protect those the city refuses to protect. From the power tripped assholes down to the gun wielding murderer. Even when Luther was taken in that was done by the Gramercy riffs. The police did absolutely nothing other than arresting Ajax for self defense and killing fox after actively chasing them for no reason other than bone deep prejudices and bigotry. Gangs exist to defend the members of their communities, to defend themselves, to get justice for their families, to do what society and the law refuse to do, to create a place for them to not just exist, but to thrive.

"And they deserve a city where they'd be alright, where they all come home alive.

And someday in the city we won't have to run each time somebody broken gets ahold of a gun.

Breathe easy every night knowing we'll see the sun, when we all come home alive"

[venuscnjunctpluto]

Observations Pt 7.

Credits: @venuscnjunctpluto

* Jesse’s Lilith is in Billie’s 12th house. This is such scary synastry to me because you don’t see how the Lilith person can be manipulating you or even trying to seduce you.

*scorpio risings have something noticeable about their ‘glabella’ (space in btw the eyes specifically the smooth area above the nose I had to Google it lol) I notice Scorpio risings have glabella’s that protrude which makes their eyes even more noticeable and intense. And it makes them look like a skunk lol (ex: Taylor swift, dita von teese, Natalie Portman, Chaka Khan, and Sydney Sweeney)

*moon square Venus people are the epitome of Candy Heron in mean girls. They end up in friendships and relationships that worse their emotional well-being. It’s usually summed up to them not being able to be themselves around their “friends” or partners.

*libra risings have pudgy noses with smaller nostrils while Aries risings have defined noses with larger nostrils. You can usually guess these two by their noses

*Capricorn rising women 🤝 elaborate ponytails, long braids, bangs idk their hair gives off power puff girl vibes

*the way Pisces placements get talked to is ridiculous to me. People will talk to them like literal children which is very demeaning.

*simone biles just got married congrats to her! Her husband has so many prominent cancer placements and 0 degree libra mars. Civilized cardinal placements have such big husband/wife energy it’s insane. Very romantic and taking the time you learn you as a person. They also have Venus trine Venus, mars conjunct mars, moon conjunct moon synastry 💕

*kelis is the perfect example of a Leo dominant. She wears so many vibrant colors, dyed her hair often, and always carried confident aura.

*I notice Scorpio Venus women defend plastic surgery and those who get it. I know three of them who defend the kardashians like crazy (even though ppls problem is the lying about surgery but anywho). I think it’s bc they would get plastic surgery as well if they could.

*venus-uranus/aqua Venus placements make friends so easily it’s insane. They’ll get reposted on social media a lot as well.

*Ik this guy with cupido conjunct mars and he’s a huge flirt and player. I have cupido conjunct mars and I think it attracts players towards me it’s been so many situations a guy has tried to hide his player tendencies but I always found out eventually. I think this is a red flag placement🚩🚩🚩🚩

*i have cupido in the 8th so does Barack Obama, Ryan gosling, Rihanna, Monica Bellucci, Elizabeth Taylor, Cardi B. This might be a very seductive placement these ppl probably go all in when they’re attracted to someone. Or they might use their sexuality to get their crushes.

*zoe kravitz playing Selina Kyle and having Venus conjunct pluto makes sense. She can pull off darker looks and I notice women w this look like cats. Ryan destiny is also a good example of this.

* a lot of my celeb crushes I have their Venus in my 1st. Matthew Gary gubler, Rob Lowe, Prince, Johnny depp, Cillian Murphy etc…the house person can admire the Venus persons’s style.

*uranus-asc have something unique about their appearance and usually it’s a cleft chin (ex: Ben Affleck, Troian Bellisario, Adele) I have this aspect as well and I have one

*virgo venuses 🤝 wearing black clothes and glasses

*sag venuses 🤝wearing goofy graphic t-shirts

*hilaria baldwin has a sag venus and obviously that’s a indicator of being into other cultures. I notice ppl who tend to be fixated on or appropriate other cultures have sag or aqua venuses *insert timothee chalamet’s rap video lol*

*in defense of Austin butlers sexy voice…a lot of Taurus risings have voice changes or issues. Miley Cyrus’s voice has gotten incredibly deeper as well because she developed a condition. Unpopular opinion I think his voice just changed😭

* Saturn-asc and people thinking you’re older bc you are reserved. They’re the kid who sat down quietly and read books or knitted while everybody else was running around. Even when we have other carefree placements our Saturn-asc makes them barely noticeable at all during first impressions. We also love vintage clothing (ex: Keith powers) I saw a similar post but I agree that this can make someone’s rising traits develop more as they get older. As an Aries rising I didn’t start working out or asserting myself more until I got older.

Stars with Venus-asc tend to be really charismatic and funny during interviews. (Ex: Rihanna, keke Palmer, Megan the stallion, and lizzo)

*saturn-sun people have very strict fathers or male figures who tried to control them a lot growing up. This can make them very hard on themselves as they get older and I notice a lot of lawyers have major Saturn aspects.

* two prominent stem malfunctions (challenger explosion and the Columbia explosion) happened during Aquarius season

[icyg4l]

PAC: How to Heal Your Broken Heart

Hello beautiful people! If you are currently going through a romantic break-up, I send my love to you. 🫶 But here, I will give advice on how you can deal with your grief. I am not a therapist so if you feel like you need to contact one, I would highly encourage that you do that. If you resonate with this reading and would like a more personalized reading, please read my guidelines and message me privately so you can receive one. Without further ado, please select your pile!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to acknowledge that this was meant for you to happen! There is nothing wrong with being single, lovely. Sometimes things just don’t work out and that’s okay. Right now, it’s time for you to focus on bigger and better things without someone by your side. You could have been with your partner for years and one day things just ended. It happens. But the best for you to do right now is to get your hair and nails done. Get to know yourself as a person, not as a partner. You have so much personality, Pile One. You need to take up more space on your own. You don’t need someone to conquer the world with you. I feel like you honestly just have to get used to being by yourself so find literally anything to do by yourself. Read, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, take yourself on dates. Spend more time making yourself the main character instead of finding ways to antagonize your ex.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups (RX), Four of Wands, Judgment, 7 of Discs, 9 of Swords, 9 of Cups.

extras: fancy dates. peach smoothie. alice in wonderland. benedict cumberbatch. “lumberyard.”

Pile Two: You got a lot of cards, which means that you need to listen up. Pile Two, when was the last time you’ve been outside with your friends? You may have spent a lot of time in isolation in your previous relationship. You don’t have to do that anymore. Your girls are waiting on you. It is best that you go to as many parties that you can find to avoid going back because you don’t need to be with a manipulative liar anymore. I would also suggest that you go to a jewelry store and go spoil yourself. The codependency in your last relationship was abnormal and it’s time that you realize it. I feel like this person took the light away from you and you’re slowly but surely gaining your power back. Your energy is similar to Pile One but I feel like the focus for you is to empower yourself. Adopt the mindset that things will work out for you. Assuming the worst possible outcome is going to work for you. You have to let yourself shine because no one is dimming your light anymore. Surround yourself with positivity and please please please make sure you’re around people that make you feel comfortable and like yourself. Right now is a crucial time for you. Treat it as such.

Cards Used: 6 of Discs, 9 of Discs, King of Discs, Princess of Wands, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, The Magician (RX), The Hanged Man, The World, The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3 of Cups.

extras: “party hard.” tiger print. mr rogers. sofia the first. birthday pin. red dot.

Pile Three: I feel like this pile has to get their body in check. Have you been having physical health problems as of lately? I feel like you need to see a doctor. I am getting the image of someone with a fever getting their temperature checked. It’s almost summertime, this shouldn’t be happening! So first things first, take your Vitamin C. Once you take care of your physical health, you should affirm that everything will be okay. Expose yourself to new places, people and things. Take a getaway trip for the weekend, maybe longer. I think you should also write affirmations on post-its and put them up around your house. I feel like this pile went through a mutual break up but it still hurts. This will sound weird but you’ve been through worse so this shouldn’t break you, lol. I think that’s your spirit guides way of saying to stay optimistic about your situation. There’s an advantage in your situation. You will find more things to laugh about when it comes to your situation. Another thing that I suggest that you do is remove your ex’s energy; their clothes, pictures of them, any and everything. Get it out!

Cards Used: 4 of Discs, Temperance, Queen of Cups, Princess of Swords, 2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (RX), The Sun, 6 of Discs, The Star, Ten of Cups, Queen of Discs

extras: cameras flashing. candied yams. apples and oranges. dominoes pizza. hot flashes. quince.

Pile Four: I’m not going to lie, it may be time for you to consider taking the extra step to getting your mental health in check. If you have been feeling like ending it all, then please talk to a psychiatrist. They may prescribe you with medication. I feel like you need that extra boost. Shit feels stagnant with this group. It’s all about personal accountability with you guys. Yes, it sucks to have your heart broken but how will you fix it? How will you recover? I think you should get in touch with your family. It’s been a minute since you talked to them, hasn’t it? You might feel like they will mock you for going through it or say “I told you so” but they won’t. They’ll be angry about the fact that you were cheated on & manipulated. You were too good and too pretty for your ex, Pile Four. Any plans that you had with them are gone and it’s time to accept that. You may have a hard time moving on but it’s best that you are supported by those who have your best interest at heart. You absolutely can do it. Turn your pain into art. Make music, write poetry, draw something. Do anything to keep your energy moving and flowing. You should also get physical. I channeled Dua Lipa’s song for you as well. So get in the gym & build your physique, begin a cardio routine, just do it!!!

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, Ten of Discs, King of Wands (RX), The Empress, The Star, Death, 9 of Discs (RX), Ten of Swords, The Chariot (RX).

extras: agent of chaos. black ops. nike. “that’s not my forte.” acting. self-righteous. fake smile. eye bend.

[froody]

Do you have any space related baby names? I'm a huge space nerd and constantly look to the stars when thinking/stressed over ivf

Sure!

Girls:

Celeste

Estelle/Estella (means star)

Lunette (it means little moon, I think it’s so cute)

Andromeda

Venus (my all time favorite girl name tbh)

Boys:

Jupiter

Phoenix (a constellation)

Cyrus (means of the sun)

Perseus (a constellation)

Cosmo (not a fan of this one, maybe you are)

[k-marzolf]

Cinnamon and cream cheese.

I wrote this earlier this year?? Dunno. But I really like it, so I’m reposting it. A rerun if you will. Fem!reader, mentions of food, language, roommates, au, slight description of hair. I might do little drabbles around Billy and roommate reader.

x

You always ate graham crackers and honey butter from your mother in excess, drank wine, often hid in your bedroom, always with your earbuds in, even when you went to the kitchen for more food.

You only stopped when Billy said, “Hi, pretty girl.” He was completely unaware he was encroaching on your personal space. Or maybe he wasn’t unaware. Bastard.

You shoved some crackers in his mouth when he opened it to speak, and hid in your room again, reading some dollar store romance novel, and kidnapping Cyrus, his cat. She now preferred your company, and would often meow and paw at the door until you let her in. “Come on, your meowjesty.”

One morning you opened your door abruptly, music playing in your earbuds, hitting him in the nose as he came out of his room. “Jesus!”

“Whatchu doin’ standing there?” You asked, sounding short, kicking your door closed as you pulled a gray sweatshirt over your hair (it looked like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket, the way it stuck up everywhere like a startled octopus), wearing red and black plaid pants. He spotted a bunch of stuffies on your bed before the door closed and a dinky little tree with white lights in November, however.

“Sweetheart, we share this apartment.” He said, following you into the kitchen.

“Doesn’t explain what you were doin’ at the buttcrack of dawn.” You muttered, opening the bread box and grabbing some bagels as your stomach audibly rumbled.

“I’m a Marine.” He said, staring at you shoving his hands in his pockets, a smile tugging at his lips, wanting to take a comb to your hair.

He looked outside. Snow. It was too damn early for this shit, he hated driving in snow, but he preferred the cold to the hot desert in Afghanistan.

You sliced the bagel in half, and smothered them in cream cheese and cinnamon, and took a healthy bite.

He questioned your taste buds.

“What you starin’ at you looney?” You asked, as the cat rubbed on your legs, but you were staring at Billy, with wide eyes through glasses that were horn rimmed, and black.

You looked like a disgruntled teacher from the fifties. Except for the hair.

He shrugged, “You’re pretty.” He hummed, fingers pulling your glasses up.

“I look like one of those troll dolls, but okay, Lieutenant.” You said, taking another bite, licking your fingers off.

He got the feeling you didn’t care about your looks, and that your comment wasn’t self deprecating.

Cyrus meowed, and you said, “Can’t pet ya, love. Do you want cream cheese on your fur? Do you wanna attract the monster in my closet?” You cooed at her.

She meowed again. “One bite, only one bite.” You said, looking back at Billy S you fed Cyrus, no facial expression as you chewed, and Cyrus meowed, licking her lips, pawing at you for more.

You set your plate in the sink, finally. And he realized he hadn’t had coffee yet. “Okay, love. I’m going to have a cigarette on the fire escape, then we can cuddle, and watch Shakespeare in Love.”

You looked at Billy, a cigarette between your lips. “Want cuddles too, lieutenant?”

Billy blinked, staring blankly for a moment. “Sure.” He said, voice warm like honey, if only to see your elusive bedroom.

You saluted him, “Meet me in my room in fifteen minutes.”

He didn’t know why, but he liked you. Even if you were a bit looney.

x

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[dancingplague]

Kai does not voice his thoughts elaborately enough to confirm this but I do think you can make a pretty good case that his sympathy towards Cyrus is at least partly due to the fact that in rapid succession he made a new friend and then immediately got to see what it would look like if someone had experimented on her (like Kai) and messed with her mind (like Kai) and also locked her in a tank mostly without food.

[misstycloud]

Friend's yandere brother HC

• Your friend had a younger brother who is just sooo adorable! With his fiery red hair and cute dark eyes. He was the perfect example of that shy little sibling everyone fawned over. Well, everyone except your friend that is. She only thinks he's annoying and couldn't be bothered with him.

• You on the other hand thinks he's a nice kid who deserves some attention. Especially since the bullying is getting more frequent with time. Cyrus has always been smaller than other boys his age, which has made him the ideal target for mean kids. There were more times than one where you remembered defending him when you were young.

• Because of his smaller physique, Cyrus grew up with quite many insecurities. Those only grew worse the older he got. The other boys became tall, while he remained short. The other boys gained the ability to increase their muscle mass, whereas he was scrawny and weak. They were confident and he was shy and awkward. They aged and became older, Cyrus stayed the same. They managed to get the girls they liked. Cyrus did not.

• The only one he felt he could confide in was you. You, who was his older sister's best friend since kindergarten. You where his safe space, away from all the bad and pain. His sister couldn't think less of his existence and his parents weren't much better. The only one really paying any greater attention to him was you.

• And for that he was eternally grateful. Vey grateful.

It wasn't his fault. He hadn't meant to fall for you so hard. So deeply. But how could he not? Not when you were always there for him, letting him cry on your shoulder when he was feeling down and praising him when he did something good. You were like an angel who descended to earth. So perfect. So good.

• The worst time came when his stupid parents convinced themselves it would be best if he attended some boarding school far north from where you lived. He begged his parents to let him stay, and cried to the point he was sure he'd lost the ability to conjure tears. But nothing worked and they did not change their mind one inch. It'd be easier to move a boulder with your bare hands.

• It felt like he would go under the moment he left you. If he was so far away, how would he be able to see you? He wouldn't.

• God, how he hated that awful school. He wondered if his parents had put any thought into it at all, or if they just wanted to get rid of him like his sister. The adults there were incredibly strict and would rather die than allow any of the students to be happy, that's what it felt like most of the time. The other students weren't much better though, perhaps even wore in some aspects.

• They teased and picked on him. It wasn't rare to find his books drenched in the school's fountain, or his clothes gone after a P.E lesson. It was all hell which he couldn't escape from. He had no one. He tried consulting one of the teachers for help but they dismissed him and said that the others surely didn't mean any harm by it. That they were just playing around. but Cyrus had noticed the way they smirked as they disregarded his pleas when they just so happened to pass by.

• That was when he lost hope and everything turned grey, dark and cold. Everything except you of course. You were still his closest (only) friend and he wouldn't replace you for anything in the entire world. During his time away and all those lonely night he spent in his dorm, he thought of you. Your warmth, your voice, your smile. He loves all of you.

• In order to cure some of the loneliness, Cyrus wrote multiple diaries and notes relating to you. It helped him get through those hellish years without seeing you. He remembered an incident from his first year, one of the bullies had gotten their hand on his diary and read all of the disturbing romantic poems about you. He eventually got his diary back but at the cost of the harassment getting even worse. They called him a weirdo, a freak. A crazy obsessed creep.

• You were honestly a bit sad when Cyrus went away. While you weren't particularly close, you still liked him and enjoyed his company. Years passed and you eventually began to forget about the little boy who used to cling to you whenever he could. He didn't forget you.

• You sure got quite the surprise when an unfamiliar man turned up at your doorstep, asking how you were and if he could come in. Not being able to recignise the face of the person in front of you, you inquired about his identity.

"Huh? (Yn), it's me." He said in a confused manner.

"Uh, sorry I have no clue who you are, sir." You discreetly tried to back away, not liking how close this man was to you.

"it's me, Cyrus."

".......what..?"

• Yeah, it was a real surprise all right. The man currently in front of you looked nothing alike the boy you remembered. No, this man was obtusely tall; nearly reaching the top of your door. His hair wasn't red, it was black. He told you he had dyed it recently. He had matured and toned muscle was clearly visible from the tight fitted shirt he wore.

• Now that you recognised who he was, you invited him in. Exited to see him again. What had happened during these past years? What was boarding school like? Things like that. Cyrus chuckled at your enthusiasm. He answered all your questions truthfully no he didn't and told you about things he'd achieved, like all the sports games he's won, how he goes to the gym all the time and how good his grades were.

• In the beginning you were happy to see him, though the feeling vanished the more you spoke with him. You expressed joy at his success, but it had turned into bragging. Something you were not fond of. Eventually you had enough and politely kicked him out, saying you were busy and had things to do.

• Cyrus stood outside the door, silent at the fact you asked him to leave so quickly. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to be impressed with him, all his achievements. His appearance mot of all. Just look at him, he's the total opposite compared to his younger self. Now he's strong, tall and confident. Shouldn't you fall for him? What was he going to do now that it didn't work? Maybe he should try again some other time, you said you were busy after all. He knew you weren't.

• He needed to come up with a new plan. One that would make sure you fall in love with him too. Otherwise he'll be forced to do something drastic.