#i don’t know why but I have that idea now thanks to this

[svtiddiess]

Suppressed Desires

Synopsis: Jeonghan is your first everything—your first kiss, your first date, your first boyfriend—and now, you want him to be your first in every way. But every time you try to take things further, he seems to pull away. Doubts creep in, making you wonder if he doesn’t find you attractive. But he’s quick to show you that’s not the case.

Pairing: Jeonghan x virgin!afab!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

Rating: mature

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, protected sex (we cheered!), corruption kink, body worship, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, mentions of insecurities, aftercare, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy this anon.

Thank you always to my loves @tomodachiii and @tusswrites for beta reading and helping me with the plot!

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

The sound of the TV is muffled, forgotten in the background. The feeling of Jeonghan's lips against yours is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. They feel so soft, so warm, and so perfect. You get lost in the way they moulded against yours. You're draped across his lap, his hands keeping you steady. You thread your fingers through his short brown hair, giving it a gentle tug that draws a groan from his lips.

You want more. You crave more. You want to feel him all over you, inside you. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly start to grind your hips against his. He suddenly pulls away, his hands stopping you from moving. You look down at him, confused.

“We should get back to the movie; we wouldn’t want to miss the climax,” he says softly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You furrow your brows, pouting. Jeonghan always does this—every time things start to get more intimate, he somehow stops it. Something suddenly comes up, he brushes off the moment, or he simply leaves the room. You have no idea why he does this, but you don’t have the heart to ask. Suppressing a sigh, you nod and slide off his lap, reluctantly settling back to watch a movie you don’t really care about.

Opening your front door, you practically jump into Jeonghan's arms; it's been almost two weeks since you last saw him due to his busy schedule. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you, snuggling his nose into your hair and inhaling your scent.

"I missed you so much bubs," he sighs.

"Missed you more," you mumble into his chest.

He gives you a gentle squeeze before cupping your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. His lips find yours, and you melt into the kiss. You’ve missed him so much, his presence, his scent, his warmth, and the feeling of his lips on yours.

You wanted to feel more of him, you needed more of him. You press up against him and tilt your head to deepen the kiss. He groans, and his hands roam down to your ass, squeezing them and eliciting a moan from you.

"H-Hannie," you whimper.

He suddenly pauses, pulling his lips away from yours. You look up at him, confused, wondering if you did something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, brow furrowed.

“Sorry, bubs. I’m just tired. How about we take a nap together?” he murmurs, gently caressing your face.

Biting your lip, you reluctantly nod. He kisses the top of your head and leads you to the bedroom.

Lying in his arms, you pout as thoughts race through your mind. Did you do something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable? You shift carefully, not wanting to wake Jeonghan, who’s softly snoring beside you.

Jeonghan is your very first boyfriend. You’d never really pictured yourself in a relationship, content with being single and even imagining you’d stay that way. But then Jeonghan came into your life, and everything changed.

He just feels so… perfect. Like you’re meant to be. He treats you with such tenderness, caring for you like a delicate flower. He’s your first in so many ways—first boyfriend, first date, first kiss. You want him to be your first time, too. But every time you try to take things further, he suddenly pulls away.

Does he not feel that way about you? Does he not see you as sexy and desirable? Maybe he’s only with you out of pity. Maybe he doesn’t truly love you and feels obligated to stay. As these thoughts swirl, a few tears slip down your cheeks.

Friday night—one of your favourite nights, marking the end of the workweek and the start of the weekend. Even better, Jeonghan’s schedule ended early, so he decided to spend the evening with you.

You’re cooking dinner for both of you while Jeonghan clings to you from behind, occasionally planting kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

“Jeonghan, I won’t be able to finish dinner if you keep distracting me like this,” you laugh as he starts to sway with you.

“But you’re so cute and cuddly,” he whines.

“You can cuddle me all you want after I finish dinner.”

You can’t see him, but you can definitely feel him pout as he stops swaying and loosens his grip. You chuckle, shaking your head, heart swelling at his playful antics.

Dinner was filled with the usual, compliments, catching up, laughter, and, of course, a bit of teasing. After cleaning up, you both decide to settle in for a movie night. Cuddled up on the couch, you put on one of your favourite movies, Iron Man (definitely not because you have a crush on Tony Stark). The lights are off, and the only thing illuminating the room is the soft glow from the TV.

The TV’s light highlights Jeonghan’s features, making him look even more handsome, and you can’t help but admire him. Jeonghan notices you watching him and turns with a smile.

“Am I really that handsome that I managed to distract you from the Tony Stark?” he chuckles.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, snuggling into the crook of his neck, which makes him laugh softly.

“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, rubbing your back gently.

You playfully bite his neck, making him let out a small yelp as he pulls back, wide-eyed. You burst into laughter at his shocked expression.

“Oh, you little—” he growls, grabbing you and starting to tickle you, making you squeal and try to push him away.

But he doesn’t relent, pinning you down on the couch and using his body to hold you in place. His hands tickle your sides, and you laugh uncontrollably, struggling to catch your breath.

"I yield! I yield!" You yell out, writhing under him.

He lets out a laugh, grabs your hands, and pins them to the couch above your head. The both of you catch your breath as you stare at each other. He looks ethereal, his hair is messy but it frames his face perfectly, his cheeks are flushed from laughing, and his eyes have a sparkle to them which you can get lost in.

A beat passes and Jeonghan blinks.

"S-Sorry," he mumbles and gets off you, you can't help but frown.

You sit up and bite your bottom lip.

“Jeonghan…do you…not find me attractive?” You whisper, tears pricking your eyes.

“What?” His head snaps toward you, his expression bewildered.

“Every time I try to initiate something more, you just…push me away,” you sniffle, frowning. “Do you not find me attractive? Are you only with me out of obligation? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I…I’d understand if you did.”

You feel the air grow still as Jeonghan blinks at you, his expression bewildered. After a few beats, his gaze shifts—his eyes darken, and a slow smirk spreads across his face.

"I don’t find you attractive?" he mutters with a low chuckle, shaking his head.

His eyes lock onto yours with an intense, dark look that sends a shiver up your spine.

"I don’t find you attractive?" he repeats, louder this time, his tone laced with offence.

With a growl, he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, his lips devouring yours. You let out a small squeak, not expecting this behaviour from your usually sweet and caring boyfriend.

Noticing your hesitance, he pulls back. His thumb gently caresses your cheek, as he looks at you with longing and lust.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me Y/N?" he whispers against your lips. "Do you have any idea how much you drive me insane? Hm?"

He leans back and takes your hand, guiding it to rest over his bulge; you gasp, he's rock solid.

"Jeonghan…?" You whisper, your heart lurching in your chest.

“Do you want me to show you? Show you just how much I’ve been holding back?” He asks, breath ragged.

You lick your lips as you look at his bulge straining against his pants. Your eyes slowly travel over his breathless figure before meeting his gaze, and you nod.

His lips immediately latch onto yours, his movements rough and aggressive. You submit to him, letting him take complete control. His hand rests at the back of your head, gently guiding you. He tilts his head and prods his tongue against your lips. You open your mouth, giving him full access.

He starts sucking on your tongue, making you moan against him. The kiss is messy and intense, his tongue clashing against yours hungrily. You can't help but whimper, relishing the feeling taking over your body.

Needing air, you both pull apart, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You look at Jeonghan—his pupils are blown wide with lust, lips swollen and shiny from kissing, cheeks flushed as he pants. You can imagine you’re in a similar state.

"You taste like sweet innocence," he murmurs, caressing your cheek. "And I've imagined countless times tainting your innocence with my sin."

Your breath hitches at his words.

"Please taint me with your sin Jeonghan," you mewl.

"Whatever you wish, my sweet," he growls with a smirk.

With a final peck on your lips, he leads you to the bedroom. Your heart races in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement about what’s to come.

Once you’re sitting on the bed, a wave of anxiety hits you. You’ve imagined this moment countless times, but now that it’s actually happening, you suddenly feel nervous. What if once you're undressed, he doesn’t find you attractive? What if you mess up? What if he’s not satisfied?

Noticing your distracted thoughts, Jeonghan cups your cheek and looks at you with concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks gently, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. You don't have to force yourself bubs."

"No, no! I want this!" You protest, shaking your head.

"It's just…what if once I'm naked, you don't find me attractive anymore?" You whisper, unable to meet his gaze as tears well up in your eyes.

His expression hardens at your words. Gently, he guides you onto your back as he crawls on top of you.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've seen in my entire life," he murmurs, placing kisses along your jaw.

He starts to slowly undress you, placing kisses on every exposed inch. He whispers sweet nothings into your skin, making you shiver under him. Any thoughts of insecurity fade away as Jeonghan continues to worship your body.

After you're fully undressed, he stares at you, mesmerised by your beauty. He bites his lip, his eyes tracing your figure as if he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.

"Not even the beauty of the goddess of love can compare to you," he exhales in a daze, and your cheeks flush at his words.

"I can't believe you thought I wasn't attracted to you," he scoffs with a playful grin.

He leans down and captures your lips into a deep kiss, one you return with equal fervour. Your hands weave into his hair, drawing him closer to you.

"I need to taste you, will you let me taste you, bubs?" He breathlessly mumbles against your lips.

You blush at his words, your heart skipping a beat, but you nod shyly.

He slowly starts trailing kisses down to your dripping core and your body shivers due to the cold and anticipation.

"So beautiful," he whispers before licking a long stripe up your cunt.

You gasp and whimper at the new sensation, legs reflexively closing.

"Ah, ah, keep them open for me bubs," he teases as he pulls apart your legs.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as your glistening core is fully displayed for him. He dives in, tongue prodding against your entrance. You moan and whimper at the sensation, hands flying to thread in his hair.

"Fuck, you taste better than I ever imagined," he groans against you, sending vibrations of pleasure through you.

You shut your eyes as the euphoric feeling of his tongue inside you takes over you. You've never felt such sensations before, and now that you have, you never want it to stop. You unintentionally buck your hips against him, he grunts and holds your hips down, preventing you from moving.

Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure as his tongue continues to push against the deepest part of you, lapping up all your juices. You couldn't help but moan his name out loud, which only egged him on further. He was eating you out like a starved man.

He shifts to suck on your clit, and you scream in pleasure. The euphoria becomes overwhelming, sending a tingly sensation through your whole body. A knot forms in your lower abdomen, and your breath catches, unsure of the sensation.

"H-Hannie! I think I-I'm," your voice is shaky and you're barely able to get the words out.

"Cum for me bubs, cum all over my tongue," He murmurs before returning to suck on the sensitive spot.

At his words, the knot snaps, and you feel an overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over you. Your vision goes white, and it feels like your head is underwater. Jeonghan continues to lap up your juices, working you through your orgasm. He stops once he hears you whine.

He sits up and your breath catches at the sight of him. His hair is messy, his chin is coated in your arousal, his eyes are blown out with lust, and a smirk is plastered on his face.

"How did that feel bubs?" He asks, his hands running up and down your hips.

"Feel so good Hannie," you whisper, still panting from your high.

"Wanna taste yourself? Wanna see how sweet you taste?" He grins.

You bite your lip and nod, he leans down and kisses you messily letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your face scrunches up in disgust at the taste, and you hear Jeonghan chuckle into the kiss.

"What's wrong bub? Don't like the taste?" He teases.

"I don’t understand how you like it," you say, scrunching your nose in distaste.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, I can't get enough of you," he purrs, making you blush.

Jeonghan leans back and groans at the sight of you—you look so perfect beneath him. Your hair is splayed out over the pillow, eyes dazed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing, and your chest rising and falling with each breath. He wants to capture this moment in his memory forever.

Grinding your hips against him, you whine and pout, drawing a chuckle out of Jeonghan.

"Want me to fuck you, bubs? Fill you up with my cock?" He purrs with a smirk.

Your face warms at his words, and you cover it with your hands, nodding shyly. Jeonghan chuckles at your cuteness.

"I want to hear you say it, or else I'm not giving it to you," he says in a cheeky tone.

You let out a whine and huff, and Jeonghan laughs at your frustration.

"You're not getting my cock until you ask for it, bubs," he gives you that familiar grin, the one he always has when he’s teasing you. His thumb starts drawing circles on your hips and you squirm in place.

"I-I want your cock, Hannie," you mumble through your hands, your voice barely over a whisper.

"Hm? What was that, bubs? I couldn't hear you," he teases, his hands slowly trailing lower.

You thrash in place, letting out a whine, and he chuckles at your antics. His hand shifts to your inner thighs, drawing circles near your sensitive bud.

"Hannie, please! I need your cock so bad!" You yell out in frustration.

"Fuck, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for that," he groans.

He shifts off the bed and takes a condom out of his wallet before discarding his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. You look at him in confusion as he pulls out the foil packet.

"Why do you have a condom in your wallet?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"You never know when an opportunity like this might come along—I always have to be prepared, bubs," he winks.

He slowly removed his boxers, and you choke back a gasp at the sight of his cock. He was so thick and long; you had an idea of how big he might be when you touched him earlier, but seeing it in person leaves your mouth feeling dry. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

"Don't worry bubs, I'll go slow. You can tell me to stop anytime and I will," he reassures you, sensing your worry.

You lick your lips and nod; he gives you a gentle smile, then wraps the condom over his cock. He shifts to move over you, lining his cock with your entrance. You gaze into his eyes, momentarily lost in their depths. He looks at you as if you’re the only thing in the entire universe. The tips of your noses touch, and his hand gently caresses your cheek.

"I'm going to taint you and claim you as mine," he growls as he slowly enters you.

Your breath hitches, and your body tenses as he slowly enters you, he slots his lips against yours as a way to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling.

"Relax for me bubs," he groans against your lips before connecting them again.

You try your best to relax your body, eyebrows furrowing and slightly wincing at the intrusion. You're grateful that Jeonghan is distracting you from the burn. He lets out a moan once he's fully inside you.

"Let me know when I can move," he strains next to your ear.

You can see he's struggling to restrain himself by the way his body tenses and his muscles twitch. You take a few deep breaths and then nod; he slowly begins to thrust his hips, letting out soft groans.

"F-Fuck, you're perfect," he moans, eyebrows furrowing as he struggles to control himself; you feel so good wrapped around him.

The uncomfortable feeling soon morphs into pleasure, you grab onto his shoulders and moan out his name. Soon, euphoria floods through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the intense sensation sweeps over you.

"Look at me bubs, look at me as I'm ruining you," he grunts as his hips rhythmically continue to thrust into you.

You force your eyes open and look at him, and Jeonghan almost cums right then and there. You look like an angel, with that fucked out expression—an angel he plans to keep for himself for the rest of his life. This is a million times better than what he has imagined those countless times he would jerk off to you.

"S-Shit, I can't hold back anymore," he rasps, and he starts drilling into you, his pace inhuman.

You yell out his name and dig your fingernails into his shoulders, eliciting a hiss from him.

"Need to make you cum bubs, can you do that? Can you cum for me again?" he hums.

Whimpering, you nod, already feeling a knot forming. His hand sneaks down your body and rubs your clit with expert precision, you moan feeling your body quake with pleasure.

"Cum for me bubs, cream all over my cock," he growls, and at his words, the knot snaps, and you cum hard, waves of pleasure washing over you.

He cums soon after, filling up the condom with his seed. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, each exhale coming out in ragged gasps. You take a moment to admire how angelic Jeonghan looks—his face flushed, hair sticking to his forehead from perspiration, his eyes dazed, and the post-orgasm making him glow. You wish this moment could last forever.

He leans down and kisses you tenderly, lovingly, as if you’re a delicate flower that might break—despite his earlier actions being the complete opposite.

"I love you so much, more than you could ever know. The stars in the night sky are just a fraction of how deeply I feel for you. You’re perfect, bubs. Don’t you ever think otherwise," he whispers as he caresses your cheek, his eyes dripping with love.

"Or else I might have to punish you," he smirks, giving you a cheeky wink. You gasp, hitting his shoulder and whining for him not to joke about things like that.

"Who says I'm joking?" he grins before placing a peck on your lips on your pouty lips.

He slowly removes himself, and you wince and whine at the emptiness. He hushes you gently and reassures you that he’s just going to grab a washcloth to clean you up. After disposing of the condom and grabbing a washcloth, he quickly returns and very gently cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle near your delicate parts.

After cleaning you up and discarding the washcloth, he lies back down beside you and pulls you into his arms. He starts peppering kisses across your face, causing you to giggle.

"I love you, my sweet baby dumpling," he sighs, snuggling his face into your cheek; you roll your eyes and chuckle at the nickname.

"And I love you, my pesky angel," you giggle.

The night unfolds as you drift into each other’s arms, like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned. To Jeonghan, you mean the world and more, and he never fails to show you just how deeply he feels.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite

@miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127

@sclovreina @theidontknowmehn

[meteor752]

The Greek gods and how willing they are to fuck Odysseus (at least according to me)

Not doing all of them, there’s so many

Zeus: He most def would, but not because Ody is special. Like, it’s Zeus, the man would fuck anything as long as it’s breathing. I do think he’d enjoy the pleasure of messing with his older brother though, so he’s extra into it for that

Poseidon: Oh yes. He’d deny it if asked, but he wants to fuck him so badly

Hades: I think he’d fuck him mainly to see what all the hype is about. And to mess with Poseidon of course

Hera: Nah, she’s surprisingly loyal. Which like bitch why

Hestia: Asexual queen

Demeter: She has no idea who Odysseus is tbh. Don’t think she’d be too into it anyways

Apollo: Yeah! That’s not a good thing for Ody tho, as it never ends well for Apollo’s mortal lovers. Mans might be in danger

Artemis: Asexual lesbian queen

Athena: See with her, I don’t know. Their bond is strictly platonic, but I don’t think they’d be against the idea of fucking each other. I do think she’d make him fight for it

Ares: Now for most of the duration of the musical, no I do not think he’d be interested. But after he repeatedly stabs Poseidon with a trident? Oh boy

Aphrodite: Yeah, he’s just her type! Tough warrior that’s secretly a sub :)

Hermes: Mans been willing to fuck him for a long ass time, like I’m impressed by his level of self restraint actually

Dionysus: Is in the same seat as Demeter in that he has little idea of who this dude actually is. Don’t think he’d turn him down though

Hephaestus: I don’t think so, but I have no concrete reason for that answer. Vibe check

Aeolus: No thanks :)

[cevansbrat0007]

Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 

“You really don’t recognize it?” 

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 

“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 

“Ari?” 

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 

Unless you were reading things wrong. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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[wonderjanga]

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

[elegantlyeva]

Hi! I was wondering If you'd be up for writing shy reader with Remus and him being just as flustered over her? Thank you!!

Out Of Order

 a/n: Thank you for requesting this was cute! <3

Word count: 0.5k

Remus heard the bell ring at the shop but paid no mind, really. He was assigned to the register, but the day was slow, and everyone who had come in so far had left without a book. 

The customer who walked in didn’t seem to need help. No one interrupted him, so Remus was deep into his book, slouched over the counter, when he heard someone shuffle, as if trying to make noise.

Then he heard a voice, “Hi.”

The sound of it alone caused him to freeze as he looked up. He blinked quickly, adjusting the reading glasses resting on his nose. The smile the stranger gave him made him clear his throat, sit up straight, and ditch the glasses altogether.

“Sorry. Sorry, uh, yeah?”

The smile you gave him made his cheeks flush, but he blamed it on the heater being right next to him.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I wanted to buy this,” you said, holding the book out to him. “I’m half convinced I should buy whatever book you’re reading. You didn’t notice I was here for like four minutes.” It was a joke, he thought, but he forgot to laugh, his eyes fixated on you as if trying to memorize your face.

You mistook his staring for judgment and cleared your throat. “I was just—”

He cut you off.

“Sorry, sorry! I swear I’m usually better at my job. Yeah, the book’s uh, good. I honestly think I just zoned out,” he said sheepishly. “But sure, I can ring this up for you.” He cringed at himself. “Obviously. That’s why you came up to me.”

You relaxed, realizing he was probably just a bit socially awkward—almost more than you.

You realized you should probably say something, but there was too long of a pause to continue, so you asked something else, “You like working here, then?”

Remus let out a breath, glad to move on. “Yeah, it’s nice. I don’t really have to do much. You’re the first person who’s actually bought something today,” he said, scanning the book’s barcode. The book you chose was part of a series Remus had read out of order. “The fourth book is horrible.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve read it?” The cover was purple, and you were surprised. He didn’t look like someone who would read it, but maybe that was just stereotypical. He looked smart, and his hair looked soft, and he smelled good, and—

“Well, not that one exactly. But the fourth book, yes.” He laughed a little. “Actually, now that I think about it, I might’ve only thought it was so bad because I had no idea what was going on without reading the first three.”

He watched you huff a little, a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that’s probably it,” you said, your voice soft, and he leaned in a bit to hear it, wanting to soak it up.

“You can let me know how it goes, then.” He felt his cheeks burn at the implication. “If you come back to buy the second one, I mean.”

He noticed the slight pink tinge to the apples of your cheeks, and he felt slightly better. He passed the bag to you, shuddering slightly when he felt your fingertips brush his.

You nodded, looking flustered. “Sure.” With that, you quickly exited the store, a grin on your face and ears tipped red.

[bubbbii]

A Mess

title : A Mess

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : kpop smut, enemies to lovers, jungkook smut, bts smut, 21+ content

warning : doggystyle, hair - pulling, name calling, spitting, choking, spanking, over-stimulation, edging, pain-kink, very dirty content

Summary : two exes that reunite ? that can’t be bad. Besides, they hate each other nothings gonna happen .. or is it??

[REQUESTED]

[I’ll try to become consistent now .. i apologize for the hiatus 🫶🏼🫶🏼]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

please do not steal idea or story without permission please and thank you :)

Legoo

________________________________________________

“Y/N !! Welcome in you’re just in time!” “You lucky i came here early enough” Me and Hobi laughed as he grabbed my coat and belongings to set them on the hangers. “You didn’t tell me who’s all gonna be here” “Oh that reminds me, i’m pretty sure you dont wanna see -“ “Y/N!!” Jennie jumped up and hugged me as i hugged her back with the same level of comfort. “Heyy guys!! Look everyone’s all here it’s a full house looks like i’m late” I said as Jennie stood to my side still having her arm wrapped around me as i did the same.

“We’re just getting started we have a handful of snacks movies and all this weekend is PLANNED to the max!” I smiled as everyone laughed at Yoongi’s enthusiasm. I raised an eyebrow, feeling a familiar presence as my body felt tense. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t feel right … why do i feel odd?” i whispered back to Jennie as my body became even more tense. “Oh no .. it’s one of them feelings where that uncomfortable sits it’s you?” i nodded, looking around. “it’s getting stronger” “Okkk i hope y/n’s here because i am ready to get this party started-“ me and Jennie looked at the same time and saw Namjoon holding a bowl of popcorn ,

And Jungkook, holding banana milk.

My breath hitched , seeing him as i quickly looked away. “Found it” I whispered, Jennie looking back at me as she figured it out. “Is it too late to say i have plans?” “Oh it’s long overdue” Joon replied as he bear hugged me. “You didn’t tell me that he was here!” “Thats what i was trying to tell you!! Don’t let him, ruin what we have going on tonight ok? Do it for me!” I rolled my eyes as the three of them did puppy eyes at me. “Ok ok fine fine, but i’m sleeping in MY room whoever claimed my room gon get the hell up outta there” “Deal” Hobi responded as i sighed and Jennie dragged me to a spot next to her. Which was also next to Jungkook.

Why’d it had to be next to him.

“Hello Y/N” i sighed , not having no choice but to say something back. “Hey, jungkook” i responded, sighing as tears wanted to form in my eyes. But i didn’t let myself slip, knowing that that’s all he wanted. “You doin ok?” i nodded, smiling at the soft looking Taehyung. “Yes i’m ok, thank you” taehyung smiled softly as i felt a glaze on my head. A very jealous, hard glaze that i choose not to participate in. I know that stare all too well.

Trust me.

“Wait before we start we forgot our drinks!” Me, Jennie, Joon, and of course Jungkook got up to go get drinks from the kitchen. “Hand me a water please” “I’m giving you soda” i replied to Jimin, fake smiling at him before i went to the kitchen before he could say anything else. We all grabbed something giving it to each other as i looked in the fridge for Jimin’s soda. “So.. how’ve you been?” I recognized the voice as i sighed, turning around with the drink in my hand and looked into his eyes. “I-i’ve been good, been healthy … what about you?” “I’ve been well thank you. You look .. very healthy, you look good” I smiled softly, looking down at the marble counter.

“Thank you i .. i appreciate it. You as well” I said softly, seeing his shy smile appear on his face. “Thank you, angel” i gulped, tears wanting to form as i recognized the nickname. “Y-You’re welcome, kookie” i looked into his eyes, seeing hidden guilt as our eye contact gained stronger. So strong, that i didn’t realize we were inches away from each other. “Look .. no , awkward feelings between us? No bad blood right?” I sighed shakily, looking away as i thought about what he said.

He always knows when something’s off, that’s what special about him. And he really think i can sit here and pretend we didn’t go thru ALL of that? No.

“Y-Yea .. no bad blood” Jungkook obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing! Nothing uh .. let’s go they’re waiting for us” “Y/N” he stopped me and my movements, making me sigh as i looked into his eyes. “Is there something you not telling me?” “W-Why does it matter !? We’re done right !? No bad blood Jungkook” I bursted out, sighing as i realize what i said before going back into the living room, leaving him there. “What happened?” “He wanted not awkward feelings between us, i can’t just do that after everything we’ve been through” i answered Jimin as he sat in between my legs on the ground.

“You know he isn’t over you” “He’s definitely over me, you can’t sit here and pretend that - all of our shit just got thrown away! I can’t do that. And you know it” I said , sighing for the 4th time. “You never know, don’t sit here and give up on you two like this” “I gave up when he broke up with me 2 years ago” I bitterly said, dunking down my water as anger rose in me.

2 years … of hell.

Author POV

That night was just fun and laughter, watching a total of 5 movies and playing different games around the house. It was now 1 am and the group was sitting in a circle. “Alright, truth or dare yall ready?” We all nodded as Hoseok spin the bottle. “Alright Jin, truth or dare” “Truth” “Is it true you and Joon had sex last night?” the group shocked, laughing as Jin and Joon’s eyes widened in shock as their cheeks turned red. “U-Uh … next question” The group laughed out loud as he spin the bottle. It landed on Jungkook. “Kook, truth or dare” “Dare” “I dare you … to bite Hobi’s shoulder” “UMM EXCUSE ME-“ Jungkook didn’t hesitste to bite Hobi’s shoulder making the 26 year old streak out loud.

“H-HEY!!” The group laughed along with Jungkook as Hoseok pushed him playfully. “Alright, gon head and spin” Jungkook spun the bottle and it landed on no other than Y/N. Y/N’s breath hitched as his eyes locked with Kook’s who was already looking at her. “Y/N, truth or dare” She gulped, not evening thinking about picking dare. “Truth” “You still love me?” Y/N’d pupils disappeared as she stared at Jungkook with shock as everyone looked at her in shock.

The group was waiting for her answer, Y/N not having nothing to say. “I-I … excuse me” Y/N excused herself, getting up quickly with Jimin and Jennie following after her. Joon and Jin looked at Jungkook as his expression was emotionless. Jungkook knew what he was doing, he was just looking for the right moment.

“Y/N?” she turned around with red eyes as she faced Jennie and Jimin. “U-Uh .. i think i should call it a night” “Nooo !! We were sleeping over! You can’t let this override you” “I told you” Y/N whispered to Jimin as she walked away from the two. But Jungkook heard and saw everything. “Kook-“ “I got it” He said, looking at Jennie as he went after Y/N.

He went into her room in the house, seeing her grabbing her belongings. “I did that on purpose” She looked and locked eyes with the hurt looking boy. “Jungkook i don’t want to talk” “Yes you do” She sighed, knowing deep down she did. “Ok, ok - fine! You want the truth!?” Y/N yelled, going to him and stopped when they were inches. “Yes! Of course IM STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU! You didn’t think i wouldn’t after everything we’ve been through !? You broke up with ME! ME JUNGKOOK! I am HURT , i am in DISBELIEF, and i don’t want nothing to do with this conversation. You got your fair share”

Y/N turned to leave but Jungkook pulled her by the arm and smashed his lips onto hers. She didn’t dare to fight back knowing he was stronger than her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss got heated. They felt every emotion between the two as he picked her up, closing the door with his foot as he led them to the bed and set her down gently. “T-The others-“ “I don’t care” Jungkook spat, going into her neck sucking on all her sweet spots as Y/N moaned softly at the pleasure she was feeling.

Jungkook did what he could, love hearing Y/N moan for him as he felt the tugs in his hair by her fingers. “M-More … kook” “I know, i missed you” He kissed her once again, taking off her clothes and his as well with ease as he touched every single part of her body. His fingers made it to his well to her soaking hood, sticking his fingers inside ever so easily having Y/N roll her head back and her back to arch as the pleasure rode over her.

“Fuck! Daddy” “Yea there you go moan for me” He scissored her as her moans began to become louder at the pleasuer. She’s missed this, having jungkook all over her having him take control over her. Over her body like this. She did anything. “Fuck! Yess daddy yes, just like that” “You like that? My baby likes that huh? Deep in that pussy like that” Y/N moaned louder at the dirty whispers in her ear. “M-More, i want more!” Jungkook went down and started to suck her out like his last meal on earth.

Jungkook dreamed of this after the first week they broke up. It was devastating to him, and he wanted her to know that she was still his. Even after everything that happened between him. Wanted to make her feel as much good as he could possible.

“Just like that, fuck - daddy right there right there right there- FUCK!” “It’s ok angel, stand still” He pressed her hips down, his tongue going deeper as his thumbs smoothed over her hips bones making her go crazy. “I’m close … daddy i wanna cum” “Cum for me princess, you can do it i know you can. You can cum for daddy” Y/N’s moans turned into choked - out whines and soon came on his face, Jungkook pleased as he sucked up every drop as he calmed her down.

“That’s my good girl, there she go” Y/N moaned softly at the praise as he got up and kissed her once again as he turned her around. “You ready?” Jungkook asked softly, kissing her back as Y/N nodded. “Y-Yes, yes i’m ready” Jungkook wasted no time, sticking it inside as Jungkook huffed at the tightness that welcomed him inside. “O-Ok … take it slow it’s been a minute” “I don’t wanna hear that shit” Jungkook grabbed her hips, fucking her vigorously as Y/N grabbed onto the sheets below her and screamed inside the pillow.

“Don’t fucking hide from me” He took the pillow and threw it on the ground making Y/N’s moans visible to him. “Fuuuuck it feels so good, it feels so fucking good!” “That pussy missed me huh, it missed me didn’t she. I know she missed that cock yea? You missed me fucking your like this?” “Yesss yes i missed you daddy, i missed you daddy fuck!” Jungkook felt pleased hearing that Y/N felt the same way, showing no mercy as his dick went deeper inside of her.

The night went on, Jungkook taking all the time he could possible as they fucked till their limits. Now in missionary as he pounded his dick deep inside her. Jungkook’s hand slithered to her half - way bruised neck as he held it. “Y-You’re not going nowhere, just remember that. You’re here and you’re h-here to stay. You understand?” “N-Nowhere, nowhere daddy” “Good girl, come on” he went faster, his hips grabbing energy as Y/N moaned her way to her orgasm. “I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum daddy please!” “Cum angel, you got it that’s my good girl. That’s my good girl” Y/N got motivated, squirting all over his dick as Jungkook came soon after.

They both reached their high, breathing heavily at the sexual night they had as Jungkook grabbed strength to sit himself up and clean themselves. He cleaned her throughly, putting her in a shirt as he got into sum sweats and he went back to her, setting his muscular body on her.

“Don’t go anywhere, please. I’m sorry i - i didn’t know what i was thinking i really do apologize-“ Y/N kissed him, interrupting his sentence as Jungkook returned it. “I forgive you, i’m not going anywhere” Y/N whispered. “Besides … who else could put up with you and your bullshit?” The two laughed, kissing each other again sweetly as they held on tightly.

Jungkook didn’t let her go. And Y/N didn’t either.

Just a mess.

[dashing-disaster]

Bad Beer and Naked Rodents

Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!

also on AO3

“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”

Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.

“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.

“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”

“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?

“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”

“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.

“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”

“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.

They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.

“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”

“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.

“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”

“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”

Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.

“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”

Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.

“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”

Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.

“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”

Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.

“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.

“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”

“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”

Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

“I’m 8.6.”

Silence.

Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.

“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”

Tommy groans.

“God, I hate you.”

Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.

As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.

“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.

How forlorn he feels.

“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”

Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.

“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.

And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.

And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.

“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”

Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.

 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.

And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”

Tommy bursts into tears.

It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.

It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.

Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.

Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.

Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.

Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.

He’s silent. Waiting.

Tommy takes a breath.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.

But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.

It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.

Hope.

For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.

A minute passes. Two.

Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.

Evan steps aside.

[hannahluvsbillie]

one more chance?

casual part 4 ; final part

☆彡 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ you wake up to billie next to you; the memories of what happened last night flood your mind.

☆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~ billie eilish x reader

☆ 𝐜𝐰 ~ none

ꨄ 𝐚/𝐧 ~ hi guys! this is the final part of casual, i think. thank you all for your support on this series! keep a eye out for new fics here 😉

you wake up to the sound of soft rain pattering on your window, the sound stirring you awake. you open your eyes, and suddenly feel a weight on top of your arm. your eyes widen and it all comes back to you.

last night billie cried in your arms for hours until you finally made her go to sleep. she never even told you what happened. originally you said you’d sleep on the couch, but when billie looked at you with those sad eyes, eyes that looked exhausted, and asked you to hold her, you couldn’t help but give in.

now, you’re regretting that decision. you gave into her, you told yourself you were done with her, you wouldn’t text her or let her into your house anymore- you especially wouldn’t let yourself get in the backseat of her porsche anymore.

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling lost in your thoughts.

suddenly you feel billie move a little, her arm wrapping around your waist and her head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. this is when you give up, you could tell she really needed someone right now, she needed you right now.

you shift a little and cradle her head in your hand, the other hand gently tracing shapes on her back. something about how she’s breathing told you this is the best she’s slept

in awhile.

a few minutes later she stirs, her arm moves from your waist for just a moment to rub her eyes. her face is still a little swollen.

when her eyes open and meet yours, she rests her head on your bicep, sighing.

“hey” she says lowly, her voice still raspy from sleeping. she looks at you like your the world to her, you remember that look, it no longer makes you feel good.

you smile weakly at her, exhaling a breathe that felt like you’ve been holding it forever.

“billie you know this was a bad idea.” you say, biting your lip without thinking.

you hear her swallow, her eyes straying from yours, moving to the wall behind you. “i know, i’m sorry. i just didn’t know what else to do- or who to call. you’re the only one that can handle me like that.” she says, looking away.

you sigh in defeat, rolling over a little and looking at the ceiling above you.

she sits up, moving from your arms. “y/n i know i fucked up okay, but these past few months have been hell without you. i can’t see other people without feeling guilty and i don’t know why.” she says, not looking at you once

you glance over at her, you can tell she’s being honest. billie doesn’t just say that.

“billie you made me feel used and when i told you, you told me i was dramatic.” you say, looking forward. you couldn’t bare to look at her in the eyes.

she sighs, turning to face you. “i realized that, i never once wanted to make you feel used. it’s just- you scare the shit out of me.” she says laughing softly like she can’t believe it, your brows furrow in response.

“it scares me- the way i feel about you, it was supposed to be just a causal fling. but when i wasn’t around you i felt like i was running on autopilot or some shit- the only time i felt alive was when i was with you. and it scared me. i didn’t know how to deal with it- and i didn’t want to ruin what we had” she says, looking over at you. she speaks like she’s been holding it in for months, which she probably has.

you look over at billie, your eyes soften seeing her expression.

“you wouldn’t of ruined what we had…” you speak softly, and she looks up at you

like she can’t believe it. she can’t believe you felt the same way all along.

“y/n im in love with you. i was 3 months ago and i am now.” she speaks, letting out a deep breath at the end of her sentence.

your brows raise, you never thought you’d hear her say those words.

“give me one more chance, please.” she says, looking into your eyes with desperation. you blink a few times, before gently cupping her face and kissing her.

it felt like a thousand fire works were set off, you missed her lips so much. the way they molded together so perfectly, it was like they were meant to be together. the way her hands gripped your waist was gentle. one of her hands go up and tangle in your hair, holding you in place.

you used to kiss and do this all the time- but this felt different, it wasn’t out of lust anymore, just pure love. it was a good kind of different though. it felt a lot better.

she was first to break the kiss, resting her forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. a soft smile lingers on her face. her hands gently brushing through your hair to smooth it out from her hands roaming your hair.

“so.. can i have one more chance?” she says, raising her brows with a little smile.

you take a moment to pretend like you were thinking about it, but you knew the answer already. you knew the answer the minute you blocked her even if you ignored it. you’d give her as many chances as she needed.

“yes.” you say, smiling back at her.

she giggles softly and kisses you again, her hands gripping your hips and pulling you on her lap playfully. small giggles were heard from both of you as you kissed, both you and billie’s hands roamed around the places you missed most.

maybe you’d regret this in the long run, but fuck if it didn’t feel good to be under her grip again.

[watarfallar]

*gay braincell tossing*

Scar: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Grian: Why start now?

Grian: I love you. Scar: I love me too.

Grian: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this. Scar: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Scar: Snow got me feeling some type of way. Grian: That's hypothermia.  Scar: Damn, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Grian: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Scar: Please never become a surgeon.

Scar: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Scar: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Scar: Damn, the power went out. Grian: Don’t worry, I got this. Grian: *stomps foot* Scar: What-? Grian: *Sketchers light up*

Grian: We either die free, or die trying! Scar: Are those the only choices?

Scar: I’m totally useless. Grian: You’re not totally useless. Grian: You can be used as a bad example.

Scar: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Grian: Technically a mix of green and blue? Scar: So blurple. Grian: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Scar: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Grian: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

Scar: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?! Grian: ... Scar: Oh, right. The lying.

Grian: You’re not jealous, are you? Scar: No! Grian: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.

Scar: And what did we learn, Grian? Grian: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

Scar: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Grian: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

Scar: You are a solid 11/10. Grian: Aw, thank- Scar: Which is 1.1 because you look like shit.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Grian: Kill him. Scar: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.

Scar: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

Grian, texting: Scar, will you please go to sleep? Scar, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? Grian, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! Grian, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? Scar, texting: I’m trying Grian, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH Grian, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

Scar: I’m a masochist, not a loser.

Scar: Wow, that was quick thinking on that phony sacrifice stuff. Grian: Oh, that was all real. Scar: Wait, you were trying to help them kill us?! Grian: If I’m gonna be sacrificed, I’m gonna do it right.

Grian: *spins around in chair ominously* I’ve been expecting y- *chair continues to spin* shit *tries to stop spinning* shit *tries to grab a table to stop spinning* sHIT *falls out of chair*

Grian: I’m not stupid, you know. Scar: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

Scar: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Scar: Ask me to kill for you. Grian: ...First of all, calm down-

Scar: Grian, you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Grian: DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

Grian: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation. Scar: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Scar: *holds a gun out to Grian* Grian: I-I don't believe in guns. Scar: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Scar: I owe you one. Grian: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Grian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Scar: That’s not a lot of inches.

Scar, to Grian: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Grian: … Scar: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

Scar: I need a long word. Grian: T-rex but the long one.

Grian: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Grian: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Scar: Those are wanted posters!

[luv-beam]

i am so fucking upset I AM SO FUCKING UPSET . i cannot convey how absolutely devastated i am like im sitting here in the dark unable to fully convey KANFKDNFKFJFJFNFN AHHHSHFJRJGKKGKGKFKFKFKFKGKFK

okok im sorry i do have some things to say as general statements abt my experience and ur skills before we get into some of the nitty gritty 😭 but first off, moni, i am ashamed to say i somehow missed that u dedicated this to me. i am so so sorry for not seeing it for some awful reason, but pls know that i am so honored—like beyond honored and appreciative. u r crazy good at ur craft and i am so happy ur posting ur fiction for us to read :'))

also, i def mentioned it in my notes below, but i loooove the film quality of your writing. like the i could see the color shifts. OH MY GOD I ALSO DIDNT TALK ABT THE RELATION OF WINTER TO THE SENEFNKRNFJT TO THE END IM UPSET AGAIN i literally cannot. u have a talent for coaxing me to hand over my heart and then watching u squeeze it :')))) im upset :')))) ur really too good and i... im biting my knuckles and struggling to type bc i wanna cry

thank u for this. i know u say this fic is something ur most proud of, and that is incredibly well merited. like oh my god. i can't right now i kind of just want to cry

also, before i put my notes below, i wanted to include the songs i listened to during this and i think i def picked an appropriate playlist skfnekfn: they see me dream (tbz), future me (hailey knox), dream launch (wayv), wings (tbz), smiling thru. (slchld), square one (tbz), someday faraway (labit), empty box (atz), same dream, same mind, same night (svt), 111 (thuy), the race (chris james), heaven - acoustic (onerepublic), raise y_our glass (huh yunjin)

omg i do have to comment on the presence of two of my like,, "older brother" figure idols uji and namjoon ekfnkrnf i always imagine them in that kind of way so the vibe just feels all the more warm haha (despite the hazy sleep-deprived solidarity going on dkgnjrnf)

WAIT.... THE CONVENIENCE STORE FROM THE TEASER... OH NO.

IT RESEMBLES UR BED AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK BUT IT DOESNT LIVE UP TO HIM?? im devastated in two sentences

the picking your fingers until blood spills is such a great humanizing detail

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

omg im such a sucker for flower symbolism,, this feels like a low-key reference to feelings between u and changmin? OH I SEE THEY DINT EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER YET SKFNDKFN THIS CHANGES THINGS

PLS THE "im sure they wouldn't mind working w u" ASSIGNED PAIRINGS IS SOOOOOO im getting ptsd from middle school 😭😭 that feeling of everyone knowing someone and ur just kind of alone, knowing no one will likely come to u themselves,,, but changmin... tsk tsk i have a feeling abt you....... IM ONTO U SIR

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you. ; (you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

IM ONTO U JI CHANGMIN (also so real tho... his dimples are like... meant to be the centerpiece of an art gallery)

KUMON. (i mercifully never had to face that, but maybe that's why i fkn suck at math today 💀)

oh no....

i swear this is related, but im listening to wayv's dream launch and reading this part in particular w the song is so... i feel so emo rn like its okay yn-bear... you'll be okay i swear, i know it sucks now but one day ur dreams will come true even if its hard to detach ourselves from our parents' expectations and influences

also the imagery here is so visceral and vivid... like i can see it in my mind, the way you're so used to the feeling, but u still shake them off anyway bc u dont want them to linger; u can't breathe w them there, so /present/

don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?

i love this line and totally agree w this

also wanted to add that changmin trying to coax this info out of them is so :(( i love him

AWH WAIT PAPERCUT ART AND FORMING IMAGES OUT OF THEM SUCH A COOL IDEA its like the deletion(?) poetry where u take a piece of text and blot out all words except for certain ones to form poetry?

the idol comment,,, the fourth wall is shaking

OMG THE PIC???? SO GOOD WHAT I LOVE THIS AND AS A VISUAL AID/SUPPLEMENT TOO?? omg and ending this section w the single lilac having bloomed TT ugh i love callbacks to symbols

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

baaaaaanger line

jongseobs characterization >>> I LOOOVE IMPISH YOUNGER SIBLING CODED CHARACTERS

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

and this one too ^ i feel this. the exhaustion and yearning that settles in your bones until ur convinced emotion really does carry tangible weight i love longing-for-homeisms

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

I CHOKED. also i would like to comment on the delicious pacing of this past scene from when u realize who's standing right next to u and how the world seems to rush back toward the present from the past and ur frantic and slapping money into jongseobs palms and then—"yn?"—world stop. IIIIINHALES .. SCREAMS SO GOOD

love the blue stain over my view btw

idk how to feel abt the grape flavor being yns favorite 🧍🏻‍♀️ u do u tho

THIS???????? THIS!!!!!!! what did u deserve to know just feels so right in this situation,, when you've fallen out of touch who used to be ur world—when u r no longer their world or in their world, how much should you reveal? do they still care? where is the line drawn now?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

im tearing at the walls. i am unfortunately devastated by this question. home is such a... its a complicated thing for so many people.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

THEYRE BACK but now, instead of simply curling arounf ur heart, they're digging their nails into it and ripping chunks of it away

the lingering feelings of envy and resentment of changmins home life versus yns is so... like i think it adds such an important layer of nuance to their relationship

because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

OH MY GOD

oh my god

AND THE DISTANCE FEELS GREATER NOW.. oh my god... the silence and the negative space r so loud... oh my god.....

the contrast to the next segment in summer is so staggering dkgndjnfnf also congrats to them for levelling up in friendship to calling each other fuckers!! LMFAO i adore their little back n forth here haha their arguing over the phone, to arguing over popsicle flavors

LOVEBIRDS SKCNDKFNKFNXKDKKDKD

astrophysics is cool when someone on yt is explaining it in layman's terms or ur in the space.com website, but not when ur looking at all those nightmarish equations... *shudders violently*

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

in a way, this is like a form of protection, not only protecting ur own freedom and agency but akso protecting the person who has wormed his way into ur life and is determined to stay,, someone who seems to be the one good thing happening to u at that moment

im so... i wish i could sit yn down and give them a hug and a pep talk. they do know how to persevere. they're literally pushing thru right now

FINGER TRAP FINGER TRAP TITLE MENTIONED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

omg THE PROFILES SJCBDJFN THEYRE GONNA BE INTERVIEWING OUR BOYZ DJFBKDNCKDNF i am Howling at the moon

THIS??? IS FUCKING EVERYTHING???????? the different colors of cheongju seep thru gaaaaaaawd the careful wall you've built to rpetend ur past is behind u has now returned to remind u that it does, in fact, still exist. it will not hesitate to break ur bubble of present reality

i have a violent urge to throttle a couple who are poor excuses for parents

also just bringing in the murky waters rising and drowning u and filling ur lungs is just as compelling and visceral through this section. like u described it perfectly well, how when ur starting to lose oxygen, your chest burns and its slow but throbbing

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

aren't we all though? :(

NOW UR HOME IS CHANGMIN.

i love just imagining ur writing like a movie, like this part in particular u can just kind of envision these things flicking across the screen chuchuchuchu—back to the present. finger traps.... clinging onto those fragments of the past... when u try to rip your fingers out of a finger trap, it grips onto u tighter; a slow withdrawal is the only way to escape... oh god

WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ONE OF DESTINY x2 I SEE U MONI I SEE YOU.

HE WAS THE ONE OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM IM GONNA GNAW MY FINGERS OFF

im very slow today but the incorporation of all four szns into the sections of this fic is like mwah MWAHMWAHMWAH and hE CANT WAIT TO SHARE THIS SZN W U?? IM YELLING??? ugh i think im too single.

dude my heart dropped into my ass . what r these fuckass parents doing

WHAT NINONOENFOFNFJFJ NO WHAT MONI STOP NO U CANT JUST LET THE CAR GO NO HE'S RIGHT THERE NO NONONOSNFJDNFJFJ im having a crisis no WHAT

. oh my god

Oh my god that hurts. Oh my god i cant im so

im

oh im so upset they never got closure they never got to say goodbye ur right the only way to get out of a finger trap is thru a slow withdrawal—unless the connections is severed so forcefully, it just breaks .

oh my god

i dont wanna read this interview im so upset

im so fucking upset.

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy���go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.  

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work. 

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed. 

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit. 

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill. 

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms. 

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”  

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works. 

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?” 

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.” 

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.” 

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours. 

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”  

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something. 

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him. 

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you. 

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back. 

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.” 

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows. 

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut. 

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present  -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows.  “yeah. do you know them?” 

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph  into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future. 

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for. 

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger.  “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you. 

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.” 

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs. 

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

[anon-e-miss]

Errant Blessings - 5

As he had the first time he carried Prowl down the mountain, Jazz pampered Prowl after his long labour egg-laying. His pelvic girdle throbbed and Prowl was sure that somehow his hips were broader now thant they had been before he had started laying the dozens of eggs. He still did not know how many there were. Some might yet not survive their final incubation in the lagoon. Prowl would have liked to have just some idea at all, but he had quickly lost count, only managing to keep count for the first joor and Jazz had been focusing on his, trusting in the Perpetuo crystal for what came after. Dozens of couples on the highland hoped for a bitlet, Prowl hoped that enough of the eggs had carried would unfurl to satisfy the longings of at least a third of them.

Even after his forge... forges reset, Prowl did not dawn his old armour. The sentio-metallico of his belly was loose and wrinkly. It would be longer still before it shrank back and even when it did, it would never been the same as it was. Prowl could not be the same as he was after twenty stellar-cycles incubating eggs he did not ask for. He did not know yet what he wanted to do. Would he just, tuck whatever loose plating remained into his armour and then go back on his enforcer beat? What else was there? Though he had fulfilled the crystal’s whims, its marks still covered Prowl’s frame. How could he explain them? How could he explained the fact he had two valves and a saggy belly? His wells too were enormous, and seemed the have grown since he had laid the clutches, although that could have been an illusion.

Prowl walked under his own power, wearing a the same cut of armour as Punch and dozens of strands of crystals. They were on his arms, around his ankles, around his neck and atop his helm. They were gifts from the villagers, the hopeful families of the crystals eggs that Prowl had incubated. Though he might have covered his loose belly with a higher cut girdle, Jazz had suggested that it was a mark of honour for Staniz. For them, there was no shame in what all had happened, for Prowl it was different. His wells ached, like his frame thought he had carries a normal carrying and should be nursing the resulting bitlet. It was too uncomfortable to wear a chestplate. He looked about the mechanisms climbing the mountain and found many of them were in a similar state. Did the Perpetuo crystal really have such power here?

“What the Pit?” Someone exclaimed and pointed. A loud gasp came up. Prowl jerked as he saw Chromedome’s corpse, skewered like an insecticon against the rock by dozens of crystals.

“He must o’ come for an egg,” Punch guessed. “‘N the Perpetuo crystal punished ‘m accordingly.”

“What is the Perpetuo crystal?” Prowl asked. “Why not just... do as it did with me?”

“He wasn’t worthy to be a vessel o’ the crystal’s blessin’,” Punch replied. “The Perpetuo crystal is the spark o’ an ancient titan that fell here ‘n became the island o’ our archipelago.”

“Someone take care o’ that,” Jazz ordered. “Probably gonna have to answer to the mainland.”

“We’ll deal,” Punch replied.

Everyone sat in the field of flowers that surrounded the lagoon. Prowl sat with Jazz and Punch near the edge of the lagoon. The first newling appeared and clamoured at the edge of the bank. Punch cooed at it and set it down on the ground. Immediately, it crawled to one of the waiting couples, like it knew exactly who it was meant for. Everyone cheered prayers of thanks to the crystal and its vessel. Another newling appeared. They were not as immature as a newling emerged in a conventional carrying. They were mobile. Dozens crawled from the lagoon, Prowl realized with some shock that there had been one each for every hopeful family, single or coupled. It shocked him how many eggs he had carried for twenty stellar-cycles. As the crowd wept with joy and gratitude, a pair of newlings pulled themselves up from the pool and the made a b-line for Prowl.

“I don’t understand,” Prowl said. Imperiously, one climbed into his lap, dragging the other along. They rooted through the crystals he wore of his wells and then latched onto his nozzles.

“They’re for ya,” Punch said. “Split-sparks... I think. But how?”

“The last egg was big ‘nough to’ve held twins,” Jazz replied. “Prowl said they’d be trouble.”

Prowl did not ask again what he was meant to do. He cared for the bitlets the crystal had bestowed him... him and Jazz. They were mischievous, loud and lively. Punch delighted in his grandbitties. Jazz was a brilliant progenitor. Raising their family was the blessing Prowl had not known he needed. With every sparkling on the island the same age, there was no end of playmates for them to play with. They had an additional playmate when Jazz kindled Prowl in the conventional manner. Red Alert had a glitch, as Prowl did but they loved him as well as they did Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He was happy. They were happy. Their mechlings were growing, healthy and happy, along with the other sparklings from their clutch. The island prospered and Prowl was content. Then, the tattoos glowed and Prowl knew what it meant.

“The Perpetuo crystal calls for me,” Prowl told Jazz. “It had eggs ready.”

“What do ya want to do?” Jazz asked.

“I cannot leave without risking its wrath,” Prowl replied. “Go with me? Perhaps it won’t be so terrifying this time.”

Jazz took his aft as the crystal poured nectar down his throat, beginning the long mega-cycles of debauchery. His conjunx held his legs open as Prowl was impaled on his spike, and the crystals fragged him with three or four tentacles at a time. There was no need to reformat his frame but the crystal took its time with him all the same. Prowl wailed with pleasure as the crystal prepared him to be its vessel again. He watched as Jazz held him open for it, as the ovipositor tentacle writhed towards him. He gasped as Jazz spread the folds of his upper valve wide and the tentacle plunged in. Before, the crystal had filled first one forge and then the next with eggs but Jazz held Prowl’s lower valve open even as the crystal was pumping eggs into his upper for. Prowl writhed as his belly quickly bulged with the crystal’s eggs. He was in its grasps, dangling in the air as Jazz rubbed his anterior node, ensuring his never stopped overloading as he was filled with eggs.

“Ori mentioned families from the other islands’ve come callin’,” Jazz told him as he laid on the ground, spent. “I think ya got a hundred ‘least incubatin’ in yer sweet belly this time.”

“Oh Primus,” Prowl moaned.

It was a cycle. Every ten vorns the crystal called him and Jazz held him open on its altar as it filled his belly with more eggs. With every clutch, the crystal added to his family. When an enforcer came from Praxus asking after a cold case, Prowl did what he could to help. Barricade did not return to Praxus as the Perpetuo crystal chose him to be another Spark of Staniz. Jazz twin tended to him and in the end, the crystal gave them a bitlet of their own to raise. Prowl had thought this might mean his time as the Spark of Staniz was over but his tattoos glowed ten vorns after the last time and he laughed at himself. Polyhex was being quickly repopulated thanks to the wombs of two Praxians. When another enforcer came to discuss an old case with Prowl, he had wondered if the crystal would have similar designs on him. Nightbeat came down the mountain, a couple dozen eggs sitting heavy in his belly and Prowl thought perhaps Praxus should put a travel alert on the island.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Can’t even lie man I’ve been offline all day and i immediately went to your blog to read your takes on the session and Pearl n gem n co. after watching some wild life. Thanks for having the best takes lol

genuinely, it’s an honour. crazy to me that anyone would come to this blog for good takes, they never make any sense and i’m always suspiciously resentful towards c!scott. i’ll take this opportunity to lay out my gempearl thoughts as well

first of all, it drives me insane the way pearl usually goes along with whatever scott and cleo says, but the only thing she consistently, and has repeatedly, contradicted them on is that she’s been antagonising gem. in fact at the start of the session scott poked her about it again and she laid out a short monologue to assert that his claims were invalid. funnily enough she goes back on this a few seconds later saying that “i’ll make her have a reason to hold that grudge” which honestly is not helping her case. however if gem can make vague threats about impulse i don’t see why pearl can’t do the same. women’s wrongs and all that.

and then after that scott tells impulse and pearl to apologise to gem and joel. again, it’s a bit odd to me how they keep harping on this bit, but every time they do, all they do is scold impulse for rightfully constantly accusing gem over the cows, and then impulse apologises, yet pearl is still implicated (for NOTHING). pearl did protest this point earlier that she was “just existing”, scott counters that “i don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve annoyed her”, so “keep your distance”.

and to think that the argument only happened because scott made a throwaway comment about a “request” he had for pearl if she wanted a life from him. i feel like he meant it as a funny aside and expected pearl to just shut up and take it, but pearl never shuts up and takes it so that’s the problem there.

also, on secret life: pearl argues that she was right to ally with scar, which like, okay, fair enough, but scott says that “it takes time” and that “look we’re together�� i’m not sure why he’s under the perception that GGG is in anyway functional or healthy considering he himself is trashtalking impulse and pearl with gem geminitay (ok sorry i’m just salty over him being buddy buddy with gem). at one point cleo goes “we have to be enablers” (lowkey incorrect because pearl hasn’t done anything, you can’t enable someone to just do nothing, but i appreciate the sentiment) and pearl just starts. throwing eggs at the ground. really funny out of context.

now for the actual gempearl interaction (we get like one and a half per episode i’m actually starving). they’re so obsessed with each other. trust me i said so. pearl beelining to gem to say “hi gem! :D” and gem beelining to pearl to punch her and say “go home pearl” oh they make me ill i feel like they’re just constantly on each other’s minds. the problem is that we haven’t gotten a good gempearl interaction because when they’re near each other their allies are also hanging around, so it always ends up with gem getting glazed by scott or pearl getting distracted by bigb or something like that. it’s such a pity because gem specifically went to find the 4Gs’ base but she went to the old one instead of the new one where pearl was hanging around so we could have potentially gotten a 1 on 1 shiny duo interaction this session (i’m not sure about the timeline there) but we DIDN’T because gem’s not talked to the 4Gs enough to know that they moved bases. grrr.

and then gem drops the anger for a bit to encourage pearl to kill grian. i have NO idea what that’s about, i feel like she’s just into bloodthirst in general but what it does remind me of is her trying to convince pearl to kill the ender dragon in SL, coincidentally, when pearl was impulse’s butler. and now she’s encouraging pearl to carry out what impulse wants. i don’t know. maybe her type is murderers and she’s trying to give pearl a chance. or something

anyway as for the other half an interaction where gem finds etho pearl and cleo at her base, gem reverts back to loudly disparaging pearl within earshot. i feel like she’s nailed “ex who really wants you to know that you’re exes”, and pearl getting so indignant about it she can’t even form a sentence for a few seconds is great actually. might be a reach but whether on hermitcraft or life series, pearl tends to stumble over her words a lot when directly challenged by gem, which is probably just because she’s thinking hard on what to say and is sleep deprived half the time. but i find it pretty telling that pearl doesn’t say anything back to gem and just. leaves. it’s very obvious she’s still down bad for gem in a way but gem is intentionally making it very hard for pearl to remain so.

last paragraph. when joel visits pearl at their new base, joel is happy that pearl called his build a car and said she liked it (pearl likes cars fork found in kitchen). so joel and pearl are on good terms, which i expect would lead to interesting dynamics but at the same time joel would definitely follow gem’s lead over maintain that friendship but still his perception of pearl now is positive. so that’s intriguing

song of the day is down bad by taylor swift. trust me guys they want each other so bad

[idciminlove]

Take a Slice

Part Three- Catch

f!reader x Tashi Duncan x Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Cinnamonacid on AO3

warnings- age gap, flirting, possessive behavior, implied sexual relations but no sex, etc.

It seems like your dreams have finally come true.

Tashi had already started to walk away, not letting the two men respond. They both chased after her.

“Wait, what? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Art asked.

“Let me go with you.” Patrick insisted. Tashi paused, turning on her heel and facing them.

She looked at Art first, soft and reassuring. “It’ll be fine. It’s just a possible coaching opportunity. Nothing serious.”

Then, her gaze shifted over to Patrick. “No.”

“What? Why not?” He frowned.

“Because you come on too strong and I don’t want you scaring her away.”

“Bullshit.” Tashi gave him a dirty look. “Okay, maybe sometimes I can be a little blunt, but it’s just one of my charms. And you’re one to talk about scaring people away. You’re intimidating as hell. If you look at her like you’re looking at me right now, you’ll send her running.”

She leaned in close to him, tilting her head up so their eyes were level. “I’m the coach here. Not you. You should know that out of anyone, Patrick. Especially after I saved your ass and your career. So don’t try to interfere with one of my potential proteges. She’s mine. Stay away.”

She was right. Patrick knew that. He could fight it all he wanted, but time and time again, she had proved to him that she wasn’t his peer. Not when it came to tennis, at least. She had chosen to forgive him, to train him and help him win not one, but three grand slams in the span of a year. She made his career, bumped his rank up from 271st all the way to the top 5. He owed her everything.

So, he slumped back, letting her walk past. “Fine. Just don’t come running to me when she says no.”

She didn’t even bother to look back at him. “I won’t.”

–

You paced back and forth in the parking lot as you listened to your mother’s voice. You were still high from the win, still feeling the rush. Pride bloomed in your chest as she spoke.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you could do it! The next thing you know, you’ll be at the olympics!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Well, with how hard you’re working, I’m sure that’ll be very soon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You smiled to yourself, before you noticed something in the corner of your eye. You looked over, spotting your coach waving at you. You felt your heart jump in your chest as your eyes fell to the woman standing beside him. It was Tashi.

You could hardly process what your mother was saying, her words turning into white noise. You could barely speak. “Mom? I gotta go.”

“Okay, call me later?”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you more than anything, sunshine.”

You hung up and fumbled with your phone as they walked over, unsure what to do with it or your hands. You were completely starstruck.

You must’ve looked like an idiot, standing there and gawking as your coach introduced you, but you couldn’t help yourself. You spent years and years dreaming of this moment, knowing that it was just a fantasy, that the chances of it actually happening were damn near impossible, and yet, here you were with Tashi standing mere feet away from you. She was even more gorgeous in person.

You could hardly even hear what your coach was saying over your racing heart, blood thumping in your ears. “This is Tashi Duncan and she’d like to speak with you.”

You nodded dumbly, watching as your coach walked away, leaving the two of you alone in the empty parking lot. You’re going to lose it.

“Congratulations.” She reached over to shake your hand. You hoped she couldn’t feel how sweaty your palms were.

“Thank-” You cleared your throat. It felt dry and tight, making it even harder for you to speak. “Thank you.”

“I know you don’t have a lot of time right now, so I’ll get straight to the point. I was impressed with what I saw out there today, and I’d like to coach you. Here’s my number, if you want to talk.”

She handed you her business card, it was pale white, her name imprinted on it in gold letters, along with a number. You flipped it over to see another number scribbled in black pen. “The number on the front is for business, for the foundation and such, so the best way you can reach me is through my cell. I hope we can talk soon.”

With that, she left. You watched her go, before staring at the card in your shaking hands.

Holy shit.

–

You sprinted over to Anneliese the moment you got the chance, after all the interviews and pictures and such. She was standing in the parking lot, waiting with the other girls for your bus to arrive and take you back to campus. Thankfully, the ride wouldn’t be too long, since you were only an hour out from Stanford.

You screamed her name, grabbing her hands. “What? What is it?”

“Tashi fucking Duncan talked to me! And she gave me her number!” You squealed, handing her the card.

“Holy shit! This is way better than an autograph!”

“I know, right? I guess she was impressed with how I played today, and she said she wanted to coach me. And look at the back, that’s her number- her personal cell phone number!” Anneliese’s jaw dropped.

“That’s amazing! And her cell phone too? Oh my god, she totally wants you.” You couldn’t help but get flustered, giggling nervously. “Noo, I wish though.”

“I don’t know, giving someone your personal cell phone number? As a professional and a celebrity? That’s bold. She better not steal you away from me.”

You threw your arm around her, pushing her body against yours, rolling your eyes. “You know that no one could ever steal me away.”

You looked around, making sure no one else was listening, before you leaned in closer, pressing your mouth against her ear. “Not from my pretty girl.”

“Stop.” She giggled and pushed you away, her cheeks all cute and rosy. “Make me.”

The bus then pulled up, getting everyone’s attention and ending your little banter session. But with the way she was looking at you, you knew there was much more to come.

–

You should be exhausted from the day. It was mentally and physically draining, in almost every way possible, and yet you still couldn’t sleep. You sat up in bed and made sure to be quiet, to not disturb Anneliese, who was asleep beside you. You stared at Tashi’s card on the table. Then, you grabbed your phone and put her contact in.

A few days later, you managed to work up the courage to text her. You sent her your name and a reminder of who you were, just so she wouldn’t mark it off as spam.

You: I’m ready to talk

She didn’t reply immediately, which wasn’t surprising. She was a busy woman. But that didn’t stop you from checking your phone constantly, opening the chat to see if she sent a read receipt or anything.

An hour or so passed and and just when you were about to give up, you saw the three dots appear, making your heart rate instantly spike.

Tashi: Great

Tashi: What day/time works best for you?

Tashi: I know just the place to meet

[hiyashortking]

Lucifer's Jealousy

Disclaimers and credit: read this post before reading any of my content, please.

Premise: Lucifer has a tough time with jealousy, but you’re tired of waiting for him to settle down on his own. It’s time to talk!

On the first day, you told yourself Lucifer is entitled to his feelings. You’d known the devil to struggle with jealousy based on his unnecessary conflict with Alastor. Even on the second day of pouting, furrowed brows, and mumbling to himself, you had patience. But on the ninth day, you wondered how you ended up in hell when you had the patience of a saint.

“Lucifer, honey,” you begin, settling down next to him on one of the couches in the lobby of the hotel, where he sat with his arms crossed, fuming. His eyes turned fully red a few days ago. His horns came out sometime last night while you slept.

You could see how physical touch helped to settle him. Some of the tension in his face and body seemed to dissipate when you snuggled up against him. You sometimes tried to make yourself seem smaller than him, even though you weren’t, because when you did this he switched from bumbling dork to nurturing daddy. You hoped that’s what would happen but you hadn’t seen the reasonable daddy from him in days.

And why was the King of Hell so upset? At first you worried your casual flirtiness would offend him, but you’d been yourself since y’all started fucking and though you’d seen some challenge in his glare, it didn’t seem like jealousy to this extent. You saw each other every day. You took turns doting on each other. Him with his money, power, charm, and experience. You mostly with your words.

You: Sweetheart, what can I do? How can I help you get through whatever is troubling you?

Lucifer, sighing: I’ll be fine. Thank you for checking in with me.

You: But wouldn’t it be nice if we figured this out together? I hate seeing you like this for so long. I want to see you smile again.

Lucifer softened a bit more. Were you finally getting through to him, or was he only just becoming exhausted by his feelings?

You: Can you please at least tell me what happened?

Lucifer sighed again. With every sigh, you could feel him loosening up against your body.

Lucifer: I’m sorry I’ve been so unfair to you this week.

You didn’t add that this was his behavior last week as well.

Lucifer: I don’t know what it is about her, but I just can’t stand it when–

You, against your better judgment, since interrupting him when he’d only just started to open up was not your best idea: Her? Her who?

Lucifer: Huh? Charlie, of course.

You: Charlie?!

Lucifer: Yes, I don’t understand how Lilith-

You: LILITH?!

Lucifer: Yes, and the bus boy-

You: ALASTOR?!?!

Lucifer: Wha- yes, honey. Are you feeling well?

For nine fucking days you thought his pouting was about you! You thought he was so madly, obsessively in love with you that something strange and minor, something you didn’t even notice yourself, drove him into a jealous rage. Once the shock and, what, disappointment? had their turns in your head, you started laughing.

Lucifer: What- what is happening right now?

You, holding your stomach as you laughed: This whole time, I thought you were jealous over ME.

For as many millennia as he’d been alive, Lucifer’s ability to process hadn’t evolved at all. He sat dumbfounded as you laughed at yourself and how foolish and self-centered your thinking had been.

You felt him put his head on your shoulder and an arm around your back. You heard him sigh again, though did it sound a little happier? You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at him resting against you. His horns were gone. His eyes were closed.

Lucifer: “You make me feel so safe that even when I think I would normally get jealous, I just trust you and feel happy for you instead.”

You: “Wha-”

Lucifer: “When you flirt with people, I just somehow believe that you’ll still be with me a moment later, and you have been so far. I mean- I get my hiccups here and there, and I think sometimes I even like getting possessive over you, but it’s been mostly sexual. With you, I don’t stay up at night wondering if you’ll kick me out or leave me, I just … sleep.”

You: “Lucifer …”

Lucifer: “Just one more comment and I’ll shut up. Seeing you laugh made me feel so much better. I want to make you laugh as often as I can.”

This sweet, tender little man was going to destroy you.

But also, NINE DAYS JEALOUS OVER CHARLIE AND LILITH, AND CHARLIE AND ALASTOR?

Now it was your turn to act like a baby for days.

[scarlethexelove]

Do You Hate Me

Pairing: Drummer!Kate Bishop x Fan!Reader

Word Count: 2335

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/comfort, Smut, Daddy kink, P in V, Cum strap, StoneTop!Kate, PleasureDom!Kate, Hints to breeding, Um not sure there is much more.

Pt 1

A/n: I must always give thanks for the help from @wandamaximoffsbadgirl on writing this one. This turned from idea's about Drummer!Kate into an impromptu fic. It was done before Kinktober and just needed edited up and finished. So that is what I did. Sorry that I didn't get the last fic of Kinktober done I just couldn't bring myself to write the last one cause I didn't really know what to do with it. Maybe one day but I'm not to sure. So to make up for it here is more Drummer!Kate.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your fingers slowly trail down Kate’s body. You want to be able to touch your girlfriend, giving her the same pleasure that she gives you. You’re shocked when her hands grab your wrist and stop you. Her grip is tight, tighter than she has ever held you. “Katie that hurts.” 

Kate quickly lets your hands go. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to. Just please don’t touch me like that.” Her tone is harsh. She is acting in a way that you have never seen her before. 

“Kate why can’t I-” Kate cuts you off.

“I said don’t.” It’s like you can see an internal battle going on within Kate. Her eyes showed a different emotion than her expression. “Just don’t touch me please.”

You’re so confused and hurt by your girlfriend's outburst. “Fine!” Your words are louder than you had intended them to be but you don’t really care. You get up and walk out of the room. You don’t know where you are going but you just put on your shoes and walk out the door. 

It’s only a few minutes later before Kate gets up and goes looking for you knowing that she needs to explain to you why she stopped you. But panic takes over when she realizes you're not there anymore. Your shoes and keys are gone from beside the door. She quickly throws on her boots and runs out the door. 

It’s dark out and the air is damp as you walk along the eerily quiet streets. You don’t know how you walk but the hurt doesn’t seem to leave you. You never thought you were good enough for Kate and this just solidifies your spiraling thoughts. That you will never be good enough for her. 

Your face scrunches when you feel cold water drop down on your face. You look up as the sky fills with little droplets of water. The rain starts to fall down steadily making you let out a groan. You already feel terrible and now this. You accept your fate as you sit down on the bench a few steps behind you. Letting the cold rain soak into your skin as your fight with Kate swirls in your mind. You dropped everything to be with Kate and now she doesn’t want you. You’re alone and cold.

Kate begins to panic more when the rain begins to fall. The storm clouds above let's all the held water fall down. She doesn’t know where you went and now it��s raining. All she wants is for you to be back in her arms, to explain everything. She wants you to understand just how much she loves you and that will never change in her eyes. So she runs looking wherever she can to find you. How could you have gone so far in so little time. 

You don’t know how long you sit there for, until you hear your name being called while Kate is running up to you. She pulls you up and hugs you tightly. She pulls you back a little to look you over. “I was so worried.” Kate has tears in her eyes. 

“What does it matter, Kathrine.” It stung when you used her full name. 

“Oh Y/n/n, come on, don't be like that, please. Just come back with me, we can have a bath together and I'll explain myself.” Kate tries and you want to say no but she's giving puppy eyes.

Kate tries to hold your hand, but you pull it back and cross your arms. You follow behind her, still hurt and salty. You're both dripping wet when you both get inside. 

Kate starts the bath and goes to help you undress. “I can do it myself.” You snap. Kate pulls back, mumbling out an okay before turning away to undress herself. When you're done pulling off your wet clothes, you step into the warm bath. Sinking into it, you let out a moan as the warmth elopes you. Kate stands there bouncing on the balls of her feet unsure now if she should join you.  

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You ask feeling awkward now that Kate was second guessing if she should join you. She cautiously steps into the bath in front of you. Sinking down and sitting in front of you. 

Kate looks down and plays with her fingers. “I'm sorry.” She mumbles. You've never seen her so reserved which makes you feel bad for being so mad. 

You chew on your lip, taking in a deep breath. “I just... did I do something wrong? Do...do you not want me, Kate? I just...I wanna make you feel just as good as you make me feel.”

Kate reaches out, brushing your tears away. “Baby, it absolutely is not that. You do make me feel good, better than I've ever felt.” Kate cups your cheek, a soft smile on her face.

You look into her eyes, tears still shining. “Then why?” 

Kate takes a deep breath trying to gather her thoughts. “Princess I get off just from watching you. I don't need it and I don't particularly like it either. It's nothing to do with you. I am more than satisfied.” 

You look at her mulling over her words. “S-so you're um what's it called.”

Kate smiles. “Stone top. Yes.” 

“Ohhhhh.” You think for a moment, brow furrowing. “S-so you don't like hate me? Or think I'm disgusting? Or–” Kate cuts you off, pulling you into a deep kiss. You whimper into it before melting into her. 

“I think you are the most amazing girl in the whole world.” Kate beatles against your lips. 

You lean your body into hers. “I don't deserve you.” You mumble. 

“Don't ever say that princess. I don't know what I would do without you. The day I saw you my life changed for the better.” You want to touch her, but you hesitate. Your hands hovering, almost ghosting over her skin. “Go ahead, princess.” Your head shoots up, eyes meeting hers.

You lean more into her and lay your head on her chest as you let yourself lazily draw patterns on her chest, letting your fingers drift down slowly. 

Kate let's out a soft noise. Softer than you've ever heard out of your girlfriend. You lay your head on her chest, taking a deep breathing, letting your hand fall, brushing past her nipple. You feel as her breath quickens slightly at the sensation. You trace your fingers around her nipple waiting to see if she stops you. She lets out a shuttered breath. You smile, letting your thumb brush across her now hardened nipple

“Is this ok baby?” You ask, actually stopping what you're doing. She lets out a soft moan. You look up at her and you pull her down to kiss her. You still tease her nipple as you swallow her whimpers. You keep teasing, seeing how far you can push her as you roll her pebbled nipple between your fingers. She finally grabs your wrist, pulling both behind your back. 

“You're playing a dangerous game, princess.” Kate husks against the shell of your ear. 

You gasp. “What are you going to do Daddy? Hmmm, punish me.” You tease her knowing that you hadn't actually done anything to warrant one but just want to press her buttons a little. 

Kate is quick to stand lifting you up with her. Not caring about leaving a wet trail behind you both. 

“I'm not going to punish you princess but I'm going to make sure you can't walk tomorrow.” 

Shivering at her words.You cling tight to her. “Oh will you Daddy?” You try to sound tough, but you know that she knows. 

Kate tosses you on the bed, making you squeak before crawling to hover over you. “Oh princess, I'm going to use my biggest strap. You know that new one special one we just got. I'm going to slit that pretty little pussy open.” She growls and kisses you harshly. 

You feel your body heat up at the mention of the new strap. A thick purple one that was cum filled. A whimper leaving you. “Please Daddy I've been wanting to get to use it!' You started begging already forgetting about what happened earlier.

Kate chuckles at your neediness. “Look at you begging Daddy to fuck you. You want me to stretch that pretty little pussy around my big strap hmm.” 

You whine at the thought. “Please.” Kate leans down, giving you a kiss before leaving to go grab the strap. Coming out, and the moment you see her, you clench around nothing. “Fuck...Daddy…” She smirks as she gets closer to you. 

“Tell Daddy exactly what you want, Princess.” Kate is cocky knowing she has you right where she wants you. 

You squirm as you look at the large size. “Wa-want Daddy to fuck me.” 

Kate gives you a faux pout. “Princess, you need to tell me how. You want Daddy to shove that pretty face into the pillows as I fuck you from behind.” You clench at the thought and nod. “Words princess.” She reminds you. 

A whine coming out of your throat. “Please Daddy want you to fuck me from behind and push me into the pillows. Want to scream so loud for you the pillows don't muffle it. Please.” You see her eyes dilate at your words. Light blues become dark like a storm. 

You watch as Kate’s calm demeanor turns to feral. “Hands and knees princess.” She growls out. You barely have time to get into the position before Kate is behind you. “Fuck I can't wait to ruin you.” Her hands caress your hips. You instantly want to fall apart for her. Do exactly as she asks. Your pleasure is hers and hers is yours. You feel her slowly push through your folds, getting herself all slicked up before you feel the tip at your entrance. You shiver and whimper. 

“Please Daddy...please…” Kate slowly pushes her hips forward. Your walls stretch to accommodate her large size. Though the stretch is slightly painful, it feels so good. Your arms are already wobbly the further she pushes in. You're already panting from it all. Already so overwhelming. Her hand goes on the back of your head, grabbing your hair as she starts thrusting, setting a brutal pace that has your head spinning. 

“Fuck you always feel so good taking my cock like a good little slut. You're Daddy's slut, aren't you?” Kate grunts with every thrust of her hips. 

You moan loudly as words fail you. Your brain instantly turning to mush as she fucks you.  

When you don't answer Kate stops. She wraps her hand around your throat and pulls you back against her chest and whispers in your ear. “Daddy asked you a question princess. Are you Daddy's slut?” You whimper. 

“Mmm I-I Da-Daddy's little sl-slut.” Kate lets go of your neck and pushes your face down into the pillow. 

“Good girl.” Kate grunts as she picks the pace back up.  

You moan loudly, what else are you supposed to do because words aren't an option. “Ah...ah...ah…” It's the only thing coming out, but you're practically screaming as she hits your spot just right.

Kate is panting above you as your walls suck her in. She reaches down between your legs, finding your clit and circling her fingers around. You can't help the scream that escapes your lips. Your body is trembling under her as you're so close to falling over the edge.

“Ah...Daddy...fuck fuck please...I'm gonna...gonna cum!” You hear the chuckle the rumbles out of her. 

“You want to cum all over Daddy's cock? Hm?” Kate asks and suddenly you're shy again. Just like always though Kate secretly hoped you'd never stop being like this with her. 

“Please Daddy let me cum on your cock.” Kate lets out a satisfied hum before pulling you up against her and whispering in your ear. 

“Do you want Daddy to fill you up princess?” Kate’s thrusts are still hitting you perfectly deep inside that your legs are trembling. You're so close to falling over the edge. 

You whine and nod so desperately. “Pl-please daddy want your cum.” It comes out as a whimper, but your words satisfy the drummer. 

“Cum on my cock princess, Daddy's going to fill you nice and full.” That's all it takes as your eyes roll back in your head and you cum harder than you ever have in your life. Your walls desperately sucking Kate’s cock further in as she continues to pound into you. 

As you ride out your high, Kate's powerful thrusts down slow as she finally releases the cum deep inside of you. The added feeling of being filled causes another smaller orgasm to rip through you. “A-Ah fuck Daddy.” Your moans are loud, bouncing off the walls. 

You think Kate will slow down now that she has filled you up but she doesn’t. You let out a small whine and Kate shushes you softly. “Daddy hasn’t cum yet and Daddy promised you princess that you won’t be walking when I’m through with you.” She nibbles on your ear causing you to gasp. “I’m going to keep filling this pretty little pussy till you're dripping with my sweet sweet cum.”

By the end of the night you have lost count on how many times that you have cum and Kate has even lost count of how many times she has. Your bodies now in a tangled mess of limbs as your body lays on top of your girlfriends. Kate insists that the strap stays buried deep inside you. A promise to wake you up close to another orgasm. You’re slowly drifting off to sleep when you feel lips pressed to your head and a whispered I love you from Kate. You’re so exhausted that you slur out an unfinished I love you to Kate as sleep takes over.

[blackenedsnow]

VAMPIRE READER AND BEETLEJUICE?? 🙏🙏🦇🦇 READER NEEDS TO FEED 🙏

bite me

WARNING: Blood (vampire stuff)

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Oh my GOD, thank you for this request. You don’t know how much I LOVE the idea of a vampire reader. I could write about this dynamic forever. Seriously, this is everything. <3 I know feeding off a dead guy makes no sense, but for the sake of this one shot.. pretend it does.

SUMMARY: You’re a vampire in need of a feed, and Beetlejuice is more than happy to oblige. After all, you two are lovers, and nothing quite says romance like a late-night snack.

The place was quiet, draped in shadows, the only sound the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. A chilly draft whispered through the stone halls, carrying the faint smell of autumn leaves and earth. Normally, this was your favorite time of night—when everything fell silent, and the world seemed made just for you.

But tonight, there was a dull ache gnawing at the pit of your stomach. The familiar hunger for blood was creeping in, the kind you couldn’t ignore any longer. You usually planned ahead, so you’d have something to satisfy it before the cravings got intense. But lately, you’d been… distracted.

“Hey, bats-for-brains!” Beetlejuice's loud, nasally voice tore through the quiet like a firework. You winced, but couldn’t hide a small smile as he made his way into the grand, dimly lit parlor.

“There you are, babe!” he smirked, waggling his brows at you.

You rolled your eyes, but your voice came out softer than you intended. “Beetlejuice, I’ve told you about the shouting.”

He leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I know. It’s why I keep doing it.”

The gnawing hunger in your stomach reminded you why you’d actually let him stick around tonight. Beetlejuice may be many things—irritating, vulgar, incorrigible—but he was also… tempting. And he’d always been more than willing to let you have a little taste, no questions asked.

“Beej,” you said, voice low, a hint of a growl slipping in. His eyes sparkled at that, and he leaned back, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Well, well! You’ve got that look in your eye. What is it, time for dinner?” He grinned wide, baring his teeth as if daring you to bite. He’d always found the whole “vampire” thing fascinating; you half-wondered if it was because it reminded him of the Neitherworld.

You nodded slowly, shifting closer. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, babe, you know I never mind.” He flopped back on the velvet settee, holding his arms out wide as if he were presenting himself to royalty. “Bite me! Go on, let’s make it dramatic!”

You chuckled, sliding next to him. “You never take anything seriously, do you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if I took everything seriously, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? Besides—” he leaned in, voice dropping to a low rasp—“I know you love it.”

That was enough to make your hunger sharpen, and you leaned in, letting your fingers trace along the collar of his suit. His pulse beat under your touch, a little faster than usual. He might joke all the time, but he could never hide that shiver of excitement whenever you got close.

“Alright, hold still,” you murmured. He didn’t move, his grin widening.

You tilted his head back, baring the pale, almost lifeless skin at his neck. You bit down gently, letting your fangs sink in, and felt him stiffen, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“Holy… jeez, Y/N,” he breathed out. His voice was a mixture of awe and something softer, something almost tender.

The taste of him was familiar, a mix of the Neitherworld’s strange, earthy sweetness and just a hint of iron. It wasn’t like feeding from anyone else; it was distinctly him, and it left you feeling light-headed and exhilarated. You felt his fingers brush along your back, oddly gentle for someone like him, and you let yourself linger a moment longer than necessary.

You finally pulled back, licking the last traces of blood from your lips as he slumped back with a dreamy grin. “Now that’s what I call dinner and a show.”

You laughed, wiping your mouth as you looked at him sprawled out, clearly a little dazed. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“Who, me?” he gasped, feigning shock. “You know I only did it for you, baby. But if I happen to enjoy it… well, that’s just a bonus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He chuckled, pushing himself up from the settee and brushing off his suit, though it didn’t make much difference in its already-disheveled state. “What can I say? I’m a giver. Ain’t I the best boyfriend?”

You laughed again, unable to argue. As unconventional as he was, Beetlejuice really did make you feel alive—even in the quiet, empty spaces of your ancient home, he filled it with his energy, breaking the silence with his loud, brash love.

With him, you felt less like a creature of the night and more like someone who belonged, someone who was understood, even if that someone happened to be undead.

“Yeah,” you said softly, leaning against him, “I guess you are.”

“Aw, babe, you’re killing me!” he said with a grin, throwing an arm around you.

And for once, you didn’t mind the noise.