#it's so overwhelming. the amount of realities you'll never live..

[natjennie]

do NOT message me. I'm busy mourning all of the languages I'll never learn and countries I'll never visit and books I'll never read and foods I'll never eat and art I'll never see and history I'll never know and skills I'll never have and events I'll never be able to go to and people I'll never meet and hobbies I'll never try. btw.

[bvidzsoo]

A world in your colours

𐀔 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𐀔

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader

𐀔 Warning: none 𐀔 Word count: 6.2k 𐀔 Rating: sfw 𐀔 Genre: fluff, soulmates: you see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate, strangers to lovers, fated together 𐀔 Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.

A/N: Here it is, our lovely Yeosang's drabble. I love this guy and I love this little fluffy story, man, I was smiling so widely while writing these two, they are so endearing. Despite writing a florist!au...I cannot take care of my plants for the life of me, even though I really love them...especially pretty little flowers, but oh, well, I'll have to get better at taking care of them once I move out...I hope you enjoy this drabble and let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy! ^^ divider @cromernet

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            Colour, as defined by everyone’s best friend, Wikipedia, is the visual perception based on the electromagnetic spectrum. Although colour is not a fundamental attribute of matter itself, the way we perceive it is intricately tied to how an object absorbs, reflects, and emits light, as well as the subtle play of interference within those light waves. That was another sentence you had long ago read on the internet, and it stuck with you. Your peers have always considered you a bit strange for your obsession with colours, but then again, in a world that was painted mostly grey with hues of brown, amber, and copper, you couldn’t help but obsess over it. It wasn’t by choice that you couldn’t see all colours…if it were up to you, you’d coat your whole life in nothing but a mess of bright and light pastels. You sighed at the reoccurring thought as you walked over to another plastic vase to grab a purple Lily to add to the bouquet. You double-checked the label before grabbing it, though; you didn’t need another embarrassing incident today.

The sole reason as to why you couldn’t see colours yet was because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. In a way, it was something you were glad for because you’d know for sure who your soulmate was. You’ve read stories written by famous novelists who fantasized about a world where your soulmate's first words directed at you would be inked into your skin, and you wondered whether that felt as magical as the author made it seem. What if five different people said the same exact words to you that were on your wrist? What then? How would you decide which was your soulmate? You didn’t like thinking about that, though, content with the reality of your world. Sure, it was a bit depressing and quite literally grey, but it also brought a sense of excitement and anticipation with it. Whenever you allowed yourself to fantasize about the moment when you’d meet your soulmate, your cheeks would burn hot, and your heart would race. You’d close your eyes and try to imagine all the vibrant colours that suddenly coloured your surroundings.

You figured it would feel overwhelming at first, making you sentimental or sending you into a panicked sobbing. You thought it would blind you and make you feel nauseous as all the colours would be suddenly as vivid as an explosion in the distance that was now right under your nose. You thought you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, that you’d need a second to piece your thoughts back together, to make sense of the situation, to tell yourself that everything was okay. That’s how you imagined you’d react, but you were always a person full of surprises, even to yourself. Besides, diving too deep into this topic always leaves you with a sour aftertaste. You were twenty-five, and your world was still gloomy, devoid of the warmth and brightness everyone around you gushed about. It wasn’t unusual to be still single by twenty-five, but most people have found their soulmates back in high school. Your parents, for example, were even luckier than that and met in middle school; their worlds suddenly filled with all colours. You were jealous of them, but you also admired them profoundly.

Their love was deep and unlike anything you’d seen before. Their respect for each other went even deeper than their love, kindness and devotion, just a few sentiments that could be added to their plate when cherishing one another. You wished for a gentle love like theirs, for quiet moments where no words had to be uttered to be understood, for genuine kindness and laughter that filled the longing in your chest. You smiled at your customer as you tied her bouquet together, getting an excited grin back in return.

“Oh, this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed as you grabbed a little butterfly sticker, searching for the perfect leaf to press onto, “My little one will love this!”

You were happy that the mother was excited; seeing your clients excited and happy over the flowers you loved so much always filled your chest with warmth. You imagined being with your soulmate felt like that, too. You handed the bouquet over to the woman once you were done with it, accepting her card when she said she had no cash.

“I’ve never seen anyone combine these colours so beautifully before,” The woman mused to herself as her eyes took in the plethora of flowers, a mixture of white, yellow, pink and even a little bit of purple in there, “You’ve got an artistic eye for it.”

You felt proud at the praise as you handed the card back, grinning at the lady as you bowed your head in gratitude, “That’s a lovely compliment, thank you so much!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell the lady that you had no idea what the flowers looked like in colour, whether the pink bow you’d tied to keep the bouquet together matched with the flowers you had chosen. The lady left soon after as she was in a rush, and you sighed, looking around the flower shop. You could tell the walls were a lighter orange, the shades a dark brown and probably your soulmate’s exact eye colour since the colour was so rich in hue. You’ve always wondered if the other colours were just as beautiful as the ones you could lightly see from time to time—or more pronounced if they were the same colour as your soulmate’s eyes—and your conclusion had always been that, yes, no matter what nuance or hue, all of it was just as gorgeous.

You thought of colours as you thought of flowers, special and unique in their ways, distinguishable and rather easy to remember once you learned their properties. Flowers have been your escape since a young age when your preschool teacher tasked you with growing little beans, encouraging you to name them and speak to them daily. After that, you had asked your parents whether you could try and cultivate your little garden in your room, and once they’ve given you the go, you had never turned back. The flower shop that you were working at wasn’t yours just yet, but its owner—a lovely middle-aged woman—was considering passing it on to you once she had grown old and tired of her business. You’d gladly take over it as you had no big plans for your future. You were content living in the place you had been born, surrounded by friends and family. You realised you were luckier than most that you could live a comfortable and fulfilled life, and that’s why you always made sure to give back to your community, even if it was something little.

You were just about to walk over to the vase with sunflowers when the doorbell chimed, signalling a new customer. You plastered a small smile to your lips and straightened your back, welcoming the man who had decided to walk inside your store, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, uhm, it’s my mother’s birthday today.” The man spoke, surprising you with his deep voice. His features were soft and relaxed; it was an unexpected juxtaposition, “Her favourite flowers are Magnolias; do you have any of that?”

You nodded your head, walking over to the vase placed right by the entrance. They were fresh as they had come in just today, so they were gorgeous as they were in bloom, “Silk Magnolias are mostly used for bridal bouquets, but I can make you a simpler one if you want me to.”

“I’d love that, please.” The man said as you two looked at each other, and for some unexplainable reason, your heart skipped a beat. You averted your eyes shily and crouched down to grab three Magnolias, your long skirt brushing past your ankles.

“They go well with Gardenias; would you like me to add some of those too?” You stood back up, realising that since the bouquet would be all white, you could add a deep red coloured ribbon to it, or perhaps even a soft pink one. The challenge, however, would be to find the right nuances since your coworker messed up some of the colours after her shift. You’d be embarrassed to ask the man for a little guidance, and that would be also you assuming that he had found his soulmate already, which would be a bit rude as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Due to you being unable to see all colours, everything inside the store was labelled with little post-it notes, bold letters stating the colour of the flowers. With that also came the shelf behind the front counter always being organised after a system that you had already memorised, no need to read the labels anymore. All ribbons and coloured foils were placed in their designated spot so that you’d know which one was which colour, but your coworker had mixed up the black and blue ones, resulting in you embarrassing yourself not even half an hour ago when a customer asked for blue ribbons and you had given them black ones. You quickly fixed your mistake, and the man wasn’t even upset, but your cheeks still burned with shame as now the man knew you still hadn’t met your destined partner.

“Uh, if you think it’ll be pretty, sure.” The man said, walking to the counter as you went behind it to organise the bouquet for him, “May I ask…what colour it’ll be?”

You froze for a second before you hummed, going over to the Gardenias to grab two of them, “White, if that’s alright.”

The man nodded eagerly, letting his green briefcase rest on the counter where it didn’t invade your space, “That’ll be perfect, my mother loves the colour white.”

You smiled as you glanced up at the man, and somehow it seemed as if the sunrays shining through the window were brighter, creating a white haze around him. He looked really pretty with his curly hair falling over his forehead, curling around his cheekbones, and you noted its copper hue with slight admiration. Afraid you were starting to stare, you lowered your eyes and started working on the man’s bouquet. You first made sure all the flowers were fresh and in perfect shape, undamaged by transport, and then cut into the ends a bit. Then you held the Magnolias together, arranging the Gardenias in between and adding a few dark green weeds for a better aesthetic. The handle of the tape was almost black, and you found yourself humming a melody as you taped the flowers together just until you’d tied the ribbon around it. You pulled the bouquet away from your face and felt the customer’s eyes on your face, almost insistent, but you kept working with a small smile on your face, catching a glance at your bright orange nails. You remembered your mother saying that colour might be a bit too bright, but since you couldn’t see it well as it was dulled to your eyes, you decided to still go for it. It was fun, after all.

You turned then and looked at the shelf behind you, tilting your head in wonder. There was the blue ribbon that had embarrassed you earlier, small white dots decorating the fabric, and you found it cute how the pastel colours blended nicely together. You glossed over the black and blue ribbons, they wouldn’t make the white pop right now. You needed something intense and eye-catching—like the burgundy fabric that would look gorgeous in contrast with the white flowers! You grinned triumphantly and grabbed it off the shelf, turning around to tie it tightly around the bouquet, making sure the flowers didn’t move while you worked on making the perfect bow, not too small nor too big. Your chest felt warm, and you were aware of your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t decide whether it had gotten warmer inside the shop or if it was the man’s eyes following your every move that made you feel shy. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly as you raised the bouquet and extended it towards the man. His eyes were slightly wide as they frantically searched your face, and you felt a little disheartened as you couldn’t decipher what his reaction meant. Was your bouquet really that gorgeous, or did he perhaps not like it and wasn’t sure how to voice his thoughts?

“Oh,” You muttered, eyebrows slightly raised as you glanced at the man’s burgundy red hair and then at the ribbon, “The ribbon matches your hair! What a coincidence…”

Your smile froze on your face, your heart stilling in your chest. The ribbon matches your hair, kept repeating in your head like a distant echo as your fingers slightly trembled, your eyes running all over the man in a panic. He was taller than you, a bit buff underneath his dark green suit, tailored to fit his body prettily. His necktie was a light orange, a lighter shade that still matched his beautifully dyed hair, his lips a cherry red much like the small heart-shaped discolouration on his left temple. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your hands fell to the counter, mindful of the bouquet in your hands still.

“You’re…”

“I am.” The man sounded just as winded as you did, a huff of disbelief leaving his mouth, “Your socks are so bright, they match your nail colour.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you laughed, looking down at your socks that peeked out from underneath your skirt. They were bright, really bright actually, a neon colour worse than your nails. You had no idea you even owned them, and you wondered why your mother had never said anything about them.

“The bouquet will be 15€.” You said as you typed the amount into the cash register, and the man nodded, opening his dark green briefcase.

“Right, thank you so much.” The man said, fumbling with his wallet as he opened it, pressing the crumpled-up money on the counter. He reached out for the bouquet but hesitated slightly, and you averted your eyes as your fingers brushed together. You had a feeling it wasn’t by accident, given that the man’s cheeks also flushed pink, eyes abashed, “My mother will love it.”

“Happy birthday to your mother.” You found yourself saying as the man pressed his wallet into the small pocket of his suit jacket, briefcase in his firm grip. You didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but you couldn’t keep him here all day…it was his mother’s birthday, after all.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, same time as today. When does your shift end?” Your heart skipped a beat as the man stumbled into the open front door as he was walking backwards, his eyes not leaving you for one second. You chuckled and bit your bottom lip, playing with the money in your hands.

“I have the morning shift; I’ll be ready to go by the time you make it here.” The man’s lips pulled into a wide smile, lighting his whole face up. He looked gorgeous, and you felt breathless as you watched him wave at you and almost get stuck on the door handle, his cheeks flushing pink again as he finally left the store with haste. He glanced back inside through the huge window, and you told yourself to hold it together until you couldn’t see him anymore, and then came the squeals you could barely contain in front of him, your heart racing a mile. You had to take a seat and press your forehead against the cool counter, and even that didn’t help the warmth from spreading throughout your body as if winter was finally over and the first spring sun was here to warm you up from the inside out. That man was your soulmate. Your fingers trembled as you raised your head, blinking hard.

The world was so…different. Everything had colour, absolutely everything, and you didn’t know how to react to it all. The counter, which you thought was a light green or blue, was actually a cute beige colour, the stickers stuck to it a whirlwind of bright colours. You traced them before looking back up, eyes taking in all the beautiful flowers. You couldn’t believe that you could see the yellowness of the Sunflowers, a little taken back that they looked mustard coloured…or was that right? You hadn’t seen mustard yet, so you couldn’t tell; you’d have to test your theory out once you got home. The Lilies, the purple ones, left you in awe of their beauty, and you couldn’t help but walk over to the blue Orchids and trace their petals with a fond smile. You wondered who the man was as you looked out the window dreamily, your heart racing in your chest uncontrollably. He was a gorgeous person, and he also seemed kind; you couldn’t wish for tomorrow to come faster. You giggled to yourself and hurried back behind the counter, hands shaking as you dialled your boss in your excitement, too eager to tell her that you could see all the colour around you now.

            Your hands trembled as you clocked out, locking eyes with your grinning co-worker. She was a bouncing ball of nerves, even more excited than you over the fact that your soulmate was supposed to show up any time now. You chewed on your bottom lip and smoothed down your kaki long skirt, your black blouse thin so you had to cover up due to the morning chill. Your warm and long coat was a bright orange, and on your way home yesterday, you had realised that orange was slowly becoming your favourite colour. Judging based on your wardrobe, littered in colours you had no idea even existed, you had concluded that even unknowingly, your world had always been infused with colours. Your mother cried, and your father jumped around in happiness when you told them about this new development, right while having dinner, accidentally slipping up by saying sunflowers were definitely not mustard coloured. You had wanted to tell them in a cosier setting, perhaps in a cuter way too, but what was done was done. Your mother then made you call your grandmother, who was groggy since she was getting ready for bed, but the soft smile on her lips told you that she was just as happy for you as your parents, co-worker, and boss.

“What was your first impression of him?” Your co-worker smiled brightly at you, fiddling with a ribbon she had difficulty tying around the thick bouquet.

“He’s just…he seems very sweet and caring.” You heard yourself saying, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes were glued to the huge window. He was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but then again, he hadn’t specified an exact time when he’d stop by, “His features are really delicate, but he looks manly still. I love his hair, though; it’s so rich in colour.”

“What colour is it?” Your co-worker followed up with her question quickly, too invested to pay any attention to the bouquet she was supposed to finish in five minutes.

“Burgundy, and he has a matching—” You gasped, eyes widening as the man was here. He wore a tailored suit again, a beaver brown—you’d stayed up until a very late hour last night, researching colours and hues, shades and tones, trying to memorise them all in your rush of excitement—and his tie was a darker orange. Your heart was racing furiously as it felt impossible to look away; your eyes met when the man arrived by the door. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed a light pink colour, and you took a deep breath before you turned to wave at your co-worker. She looked stunned, eyes frozen on the man before her grin spread wider, ushering you out the shop with a squeal. It was embarrassing, but you were more preoccupied with walking straight without having your knees give out as you watched the man open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You lowered your eyes as he hummed, stepping aside to make space for you, “Hi…uhm, it’s lovely seeing you again?”

You wanted to facepalm yourself for making it sound like a question, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he chuckled, ducking his head. His suit jacket was nicely folded over his arm, his white shirt clinging to his body. It had gotten significantly warmer by noon, but you were someone who easily got cold, so you didn’t take your coat off.

“Hi, it’s really nice seeing you, yeah.” Then, the man cleared his throat and looked up with more confidence on his face, “I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. I was honestly too stunned to function properly. My name is Kang Yeosang.”

You extended your hand to shake Yeosang’s hand, your soulmate, and blushed when your skin made contact with his. His palm was bigger than yours, and his skin was really soft, but his grip was confident and strong without hurting you. You told him your name, and his eyes sparkled under the bright sunlight, and you felt yourself unable to look away. Yeosang was gorgeous; seldom did you see a man like him. It felt slightly surreal that he was your soulmate, and you felt extremely lucky all of a sudden. You didn’t know him yet, but something told you he was an amazing person.

“Where would you like us to go?” Yeosang’s question reminded you of the fact that you were still standing outside the flower shop, quite blocking the entrance actually, and you flushed darker when you realised your co-worker was most likely watching the two of you.

“Maybe for a stroll in the park just there?” You pointed across the street, the gates of the lovely park in the heart of the city visible. Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and motioned in front of himself as a way to tell you to lead the way. As you took off, you found yourself walking as close by Yeosang’s side as you could without making it weird, and your heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since you saw him. There was something magnetic about the man, about your soulmate, and you felt like you couldn’t last another day without being in his presence. Matter of fact, you didn’t want to be since you’ve waited twenty-five years for this moment.

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” Yeosang asked as you two noticed the small coffee stand at the same time and you hummed, looking at Yeosang a little sheepishly.

“I don’t like coffee, but I really like tea.” Yeosang chuckled, something like endearment appearing on his face as he grabbed your elbow gently and veered you away from the oncoming crowd of teenagers.

“That’s funny. I don’t like tea but basically live off of coffee.” You chuckled too, your eyes meeting as Yeosang walked you two over to the coffee stand. There weren’t a lot of tea options, so you settled for wild berries, glad that the vendor had some homemade honey for you to mix with your tea instead of sugar. Yeosang asked for a simple black coffee with ice, a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, and you found yourself reciting his order in your mind until you could recall it easily.

With your drinks in your hands, you headed for the crosswalk, having to wait since it was red for the pedestrians. The street was bustling with many people at this hour, and not everyone was as self-aware as you—and it seemed like Yeosang, too—so they either didn’t look where they walked or purposefully pushed people around to get further to the front. You had to make space for a guy on his phone, not paying even a little bit of attention to those around himself as you, too, could hear the music coming from his headphones. You tried to make space for everyone, but before you could step behind Yeosang, you felt fingers sneaking between yours, a warm palm pressed against yours as you were gently guided into Yeosang’s side. His eyes were still sparkling, his cheeks were red—not as red as the discolouration on his temple—and you thought for a second you could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked almost too quietly for you to hear with the honking cars and loudly conversing people, but you did catch it, and you nodded eagerly, making sure to squeeze Yeosang’s hand for extra confirmation.

“Yes! More than okay, actually.” You sounded more confident than you felt, and Yeosang was suddenly smiling widely, his cheeks pulled up and making him look the softest. Before you could do something as crazy as lean up and nuzzle your nose against his, the light turned green, and you followed the crowd, crossing the street. The walk to the park’s entrance was quiet, your hands fitting perfectly into each other’s, and you revelled in the comfort of it all as Yeosang occasionally glanced at you. The park wasn’t as packed as the sidewalks, and you could freely roam around without bumping into anyone, and yet, your hands stayed intertwined.

“So,” You spoke up, taking a sip of your tea before you faced Yeosang while walking, “What do you do for work? I’m a florist, but you know that much about me already.”

Yeosang hummed, facing you with that adorable small smile on his lips, “I’m a daycare teacher. The school isn’t far from here. You actually saved me yesterday. I was running late for my mother’s birthday dinner, and I thought there weren’t any flower shops close by.”

You chuckled, veering Yeosang away from the flock of birds that didn’t look too friendly, “Did your mother like the bouquet?”

“Yes, she loved it, thank you.” Yeosang then stopped, tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I told them…my parents…that I found my soulmate, and they, well, uhm, they want to meet you. I know it’s too soon, and I asked them to wait a little bit until we’ve gotten to know each other, but they are just too impatient and excited to finally meet you.”

You felt your heart swell and almost burst out of your chest as your smile grew into a wide grin. You didn’t even realise it, but you had taken a step closer to Yeosang, smiling up at him so widely that your cheeks ached. Yeosang looked stunned for a second before he returned your smile, biting his lower lip as he averted his gaze down to the ground, “I’d love that, but I want to do what makes you feel comfortable. If you think we should wait, then we will; if not…just let me know when it’s good for you and your parents.”

Yeosang nodded, his eyes finding yours, “You are so kind.”

“You are too, Yeosang.” You chuckled, and it was your time to look down. Yeosang seemed to feel proud over that compliment before he took off, guiding the two of you through the park.

“I don’t feel like we are rushing, but I think it’s more responsible if we go on a few dates first.” You felt like a high school girl, wanting to squeal over the fact that you’d be going on dates with Yeosang, “My parents are nice people, but they are…well, they had gotten a bit desperate about me finding my soulmate. Honestly, they thought you were dead.”

Well, that thought had never crossed your mind before, but it definitely didn’t sit well with you as you looked at Yeosang with a frown. His expression looked neutral, but he squeezed your hand, “I’m twenty-seven, so they think I’m too old to be single. My parents’ families were close friends, so they’ve always known they are soulmates. They had it easy, so it was weird seeing their son struggle to find his soulmate.”

“Did it hurt you? That you sought me out without success for so long?” You found yourself asking, curious to know how Yeosang felt. He seemed to think for a second, humming as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“It was frustrating at first, mostly because my parents were also pressuring me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, then shrugged, “Then I realised I wouldn’t find you faster if I made myself mull over it, so I just let it go. Since we are fated to be together, I realised I couldn’t trick fate and quicken the process.”

You hummed in agreement, realising you’ve had a similar mindset to Yeosang’s for the past one or two years, “I’m twenty-five and had lost hope at some point. My parents, similar to yours, met very early on, in middle school. I thought I’d also find my soulmate around that time, and when it didn’t happen, I thought it would come in high school…but then that didn’t happen either, and I felt disheartened, like something was wrong with me. And then I realised I can’t push something that isn’t meant to happen just yet.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yeosang’s answer was quick, his hand squeezing yours as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, the wait was worth it in the end.” You giggled, averting your eyes shily.

“Yeah?” Yeosang sounded surprised, perhaps even a bit cocky, “You think so?”

“I think that you’re very handsome, Yeosang, and soft.” There was no reason to be embarrassed in front of your soulmate, certainly not when it came to complimenting him, “You have an aura of kindness and brightness around you; I think it’s everything I wanted in a partner.”

Yeosang was smiling widely again, nodding his head as he became shy once again, “You’re cute and vibrant; your smile makes my heart race. I’m thankful that you are my soulmate.”

You stopped walking, the sudden urge to hug Yeosang wasn’t something you could control, so you threw your arms around his torso and leaned into him, smiling to yourself as your head landed on his shoulder. Yeosang’s arms were quick to go around you, squeezing you into himself, and you realised he smelled like oranges and fresh grass, refreshing and calming. You loved the fresh smell of nature, and you loved Yeosang’s natural fragrance. You heard a chuckle, and suddenly something was plucked out of your hair, making your eyebrows furrow as you slightly pulled back, looking at Yeosang’s hand. A dry leaf was between his fingers, his expression amused.

“You’re like a garden fairy, do bees gravitate towards you during summer?” You laughed and shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed as Yeosang pocketed the leaf instead of letting it fall to the ground. Your cheeks burned as you two let go of each other, fingers naturally intertwining as you headed for a bench, “Why did you choose to become a florist?”

You sat down on the bench, facing each other, and Yeosang’s knee brushed lightly against your thigh. You held your cup of tea in both hands, playing with it as you looked down in your lap, “Well, I just really love nature. I’ve always felt at ease around my little plants in my room, and then I realised I just really love flowers. They are so beautiful and tender, you have to nurture them and take care of them as if they were human. I feel like I have a connection to nature; it’s like I can be completely myself around all that beauty—and the colours! Oh, I love their colours, they are so gorgeous! I’m so glad you walked into the shop yesterday. I had no idea I was missing out on—so much!”

Yeosang watched with fascination on his face as you spoke, a little overexcited that he wanted to hear your hobbies and likes. It was only normal; you’d have to gradually get to know each other, yet it still felt surreal that the sky was an almost transparent blue, the clouds completely white, the barks of the trees various shades of brown, the grass so green, all the leaves, and all the colourful flowers. You loved seeing all the colour on people, too, how they expressed themselves by their outfits, all the colours inside buildings and outside. You’d have to buy some more colourful furniture for your room since it’s mostly beige and yellow. You wanted to cover your world in the colours of the rainbow, in every possible hue and shade.

“Yes, the world is so…intense now, vibrant. It’s impressive how I could live without it all.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself, “I like being in nature, surrounded by wildlife, away from the noisy city. We could go on hikes and maybe even camping.”

You nodded eagerly, having fond memories of the hikes you had gone on with your friends and family, “I’d really love that, Yeosang. I’ve always wanted to go camping, but my parents don’t like bugs, so we never stayed out after nightfall.”

Both you and Yeosang laughed at that, and then you were eager to learn too about Yeosang, “I imagine you love children since you are a daycare teacher; how did you realise that?”

“It’s nothing too revolutionary,” Yeosang chuckled, finishing his cup of coffee, “I would babysit for our neighbours when I was a teenager, and then my cousin had a baby brother, and I’d spend a lot of time with them. As I was growing up, I realised I was fond of those little ones, so…it just happened, I guess.”

You nodded, understanding him, “Would you want children?”

The answer was obvious to that, but you still wanted to ask, “Definitely, if you’d also like to have children, of course.”

Your whole face flushed, and you coughed, a little taken off-guard by Yeosang’s direct answer. His eyebrows raised and his ears flushed, and suddenly he was stumbling over his words, “I mean—like, whoever is my partner, I care about that! You know, like, whatever my partner wants—whether it’s you or someone else, not that I’m thinking of anyone else—but I’m just…yeah, I think that was too soon, wasn’t it?”

He was adorable, you had to shield your mouth with your hand as you laughed quietly, shaking your head at Yeosang, “I mean, since we are soulmates, I don’t think any topic is too soon, Yeosang.”

“Yeah?” Yeosang asked, not quite looking at you yet, “Right, I mean, sure, that makes sense.”

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you picked a stray string off Yeosang’s knee. He watched you quietly, taking in your serene expression, and your eyes met as you raised your head. You smiled at Yeosang without saying anything for a second, then chuckled, this whole situation feeling unreal. Just yesterday, your whole world was covered in grey and hues of brown, amber and copper—and now, your soulmate sat next to you on a bench, the world infused with so much colour you still weren’t used to it, and to top it off, your soulmate was kind and loving, good with children and soft-spoken despite his uncharacteristically deep voice. His face was gentle, his features almost as if they were sculpted by Greek Gods, his burgundy hair even curlier than yesterday as it was pinned back by a little pink bow, and it made you wonder if it was a child from the daycare that had placed it there. Yeosang’s expression looked a bit baffled as you continued to stare at him without saying a word, and not wanting to look weird, you spoke up, “I’m just admiring you because I cannot believe you are real.”

A surprised gasp left Yeosang’s lips at your words, and he didn’t shy away this time, leaning forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You grinned as he caressed your cheek, his palm warm and his skin soft, and for a second, you forgot there was anyone else in the world beside the two of you, “I’m as real as it can be, and I’m here to stay, by your side, for an eternity, Y/N.”

And your heart skipped another beat hearing his words, your body freezing when Yeosang suddenly started leaning towards you. You were ready, if he wanted to kiss you, then you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as it felt like your heart was in your throat, but instead of kissing your lips, you felt something warm press against your cheek, underneath your left eye, then your right eye, and it felt more intimate than any other kiss. You bit your bottom lip and opened your eyes, staring deeply into Yeosang’s rich brown ones, an almost red-like hue licking around his irises.

“Would you like to spend the rest of your day with me, Yeosang?”

“I don’t think I want to spend any time away from you from now on, Y/N.”

And you knew in your heart, in your whole being, that the future ahead of you two was bright, vibrant, gentle, and so, so colourful.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[deepinthegroves]

shifting exercise (pt. 2) ✧˖°

answering for my spiderverse reality (when i shift in).

i prefer an in between to heavy and soft makeup. part of my everyday look is black in my waterline with mascara and (slightly smudged) eyeshadow, my favourite blush and lip gloss.

an artist i'd love to watch play live is probably Chase Atlantic. I know they're a band, but they count right? If not them, I'd say Childish Gambino.

is my life dangerous? well... yes. kinda. being Spiderman obviously puts me in danger but i like to think i'm well equipped to deal with all that with my powers and all. it's enough to worry my loved ones if they knew, at least. other than that, the regular amount of danger that comes with being famous.

if I were to change an aspect of my life, I'd change the canon events. i know things will get messy and miguel yaps a lot about how canon events NEED to happen but if i could change it with no consequence, i'd prevent the deaths. we can keep the happy ones, like falling in love. only question is, how am i going to deal with liking hobie if i'm with peter??

how do i dress? i don't have a specific style, and it changes a lot from day to day. i don't like fitting in boxes, so no specific aesthetic for me! i just wear whatever i like and whatever i feel like wearing, of course, i make sure i look good first <3

am i popular? i like to think so! (and the millions of people following me on social media platforms should answer your question). i have a fanbase that has been built up over the years from my acting projects to my fashion magazine. they're really sweet too, and are willing to consume any project i put out there, no matter how experimental it is.

my mbti is either INTJ or INFJ. i think i swing between thinking and feeling a lot, and they are both important to me so yeah!

my favourite season is autumn. i like that it's cooler at that point, with pretty reds and oranges decorating the environment. halloween also happens in the fall, so there's that to look forward to.

am i an organised person? i'd say i'm in the middle. if everything is too messy, i'll lose my mind (and procrastinate forever). it overwhelms me when there are piles of stuff everywhere, and i hate it when they crash over – i respect those who survive in such mess but personally, i'd crash out. if things are too neat, however, it's going to end up in me not doing anything too. i'd be too caught up in trying to maintain the neatness that i wouldn't really dare to touch anything, and everything also wouldn't feel personal. i stay in the comfortable middle, where things have some order to them, but you'll also see a random stack of magazines hanging out on my nightstand next to a pile of necklaces hanging off of a lamp (i wear them everyday and it's just easier like that).

my occupation is that of a student and uh a celebrity? i guess? i'm not sure how to put my role into words but i act, sing, and run a fashion magazine while i'm in uni, studying writing and literature. it's a lot (especially on top of my Spiderman duties) but i love it. acting and singing has been on the back burner lately though, since i've put it on pause to focus on the other stuff.

an attractive aspect i admire is either creativity or smarts. i think they're both really important, and i love creative people. they are amazing, and are constantly cooking up ideas in their heads that are sometimes genius, and sometimes... not so genius. either ways, being creative is a trait i love in people. smarts-wise, i admire smart people so much. the way their brains churn, the way they catch onto things swiftly, it's just really amazing to me, especially when they see things from a pov i cannot.

i know how to play the piano and guitar. i've learnt the piano since i was around 3, since my parents sent all of my siblings to learn it because it was supposed to help with cognitive development, etc. etc. they never forced me to take any exams i don't want to (exams stress me out), so i never really ditched piano. i have grown too busy for lessons however, and my piano sits back in the family home where my siblings can play. mostly inspired by hobie and the want to play it since forever, i'm currently learning how to play the guitar. i pick up instruments really easily though (thanks to me scripting that), so it's really helping.

do i have a partner? a crush? it's obvious lol, but i've got a crush on hobie. i have a suspicion (and am terrified) that he is aware of it, but i don't know. i'm chill with being his friend for now though, and we're really close. i'm in love with him.

biggest ick? when someone tries to act all superior and traditionally masculine... it makes me throw up in my mouth a little. in my spiderverse reality, most people don't act that way, but there is a small demographic that still thinks this way and these weirdos randomly crawl into my dms or fangreets and it makes me wanna puke. oh and when they recognise me in public and are convinced i'd fall in love with them because they're amazing or something?? i have to resist the urge to get a restraining order each time.

what is a song that describes you? no idea. i have absolutely no idea. i have no kins and no song that describe me. i haven't found things that i relate to 100% so far.

something i carry 24/7 would be my lipgloss and keychains. the lipgloss is for when i need to top up, obviously, but i have very specific keychains i carry about. i have one that is basically hobie's guitar but as a keychain hooked up to my wallet, alongside a four-leaf clover keychain gifted by my parents. i also have little keychains of fictional characters i love on my purses, whether bought or handmade.

look into your bag/purse, whats in there? is it messy? organised? what bag is it? my purse is lowkey messy... i know what is in there, with my wet tissues to wallet and other necessities, but i have to dig around to find stuff sometimes. other things in my bag are: lipgloss, phone, notebook (with pen), perfume samples (i throw them in and never take them out), sweets, and sometimes a book.. i have no idea what kind of bag it is so i'm ignoring that question lol.

where do i spend most of my time at? either my apartment or my university? i mean, i go to school on weekdays and go home on the weekends, and i rarely visit my actual office because most work can be done remotely. other than that, maybe hobie's houseboat/ dimension and the spider society? idk, i hang out at a lot of places.

a person i feel safe(st) with would be hobie. not to make everything about him (which is hard because he consumes my thoughts...), but i really do feel safe around him. i know that he's got my back if need be and truly wants the best for me. he also lets me just vent to him sometimes and he is amazing at helping me work past problems so there's that. i hope i return that favour back. if not hobie, probably my family members – like with hobie, i know they've got my back.

a person i dislike would be miguel. i know, i know, i've said that every single time someone asks who i dislike but i stand by it. i understand where he is coming from. i do. i understand the fear and the need to keep things safe. but he is so stubborn and so insistent on his own views that it is infuriating a lot of the time. i only stick around to save people, i just tolerate him.

who is my closest friend? + description.. harry osborn is my best friend. i've known him since childhood, since our parents were business partners and casual friends, and i've grown up with him. i can never tell if he's blonde or brunette, and if you ask him, he just shrugs and tell you it's the lighting, the asshole. according to him, there's no "correct" lighting which is annoying because i'd be laughing and joking that he had a blonde moment and he'd say he's brunette so it doesn't apply, and yet when i ask him why he's doing some stupid shit, he shrugs and says he's blonde. we have a very interesting history lol – he's someone i'd throw my couch pillows at but he was also my first kiss so idk. harry osborn's my best friend.

my favourite time of the day would definitely be night. it's when i'm the most creative, and it's so peaceful. there's this sense of home? comfort? belonging? when i'm just chilling out in the dark, with just enough lighting that my eyes don't die, and doing my own thing. it's as if night keeps me company. i also used to talk to the night sky when i was younger.

if my friends described me in 5 words, they'd say.. passionate, creative, lowkey crazy, weird, and loving.

if i were to describe myself in 5 words, i'd say.. passionate, weird, loyal, creative and loving. scripted that my friends have accurate perceptions of me so we don't have this weird misunderstanding of who each other are and expect things that we can't fulfill.

someone i admire would be my mom. she's gone through a lot, and i get so infuriated at how the paparazzi treated her in the past, acting as if she doesn't deserve privacy just because she was pursuing her dreams of being a model and actress. she deserves every good thing that happens to her, and i honestly really look up to her because of how hard she worked to get to where she was.

what am i known for? i'd say my projects + being my mom and dad's child.

if i could broadcast a sentence to everyone in the world, i'd say to just love each other. while i believe that humans are made to love and hate and that both are important, love just really unites us all and allows us to extend empathy and grace and kindness to other human beings.

if you have an s/o, how'd you meet them? i met hobie at the spider society. he had spikes on top of his mask and i was intrigued by him. seeing how he was, talking back to miguel and stuff, i got curious (and built up some courage) and approached him. we hit it off then and became friends <3

a fond memory i have is family night with well, my family. its a compulsory event where one of my family members have to host and we'd all spend time together doing whatever and chatting. it makes sure that we don't drift apart and we can bring whoever we want (it'd be a serious thing though).

my biggest pet peeve are people who chew with their mouths open and when i can hear them smacking their lips. it just icks me out and i really hate it. it's why i can't watch asmr videos, i am simply overcome by disgust by the sounds and visuals.

the favourite item that i own would maybe be my journal maybe? it's gorg and has everything i want. or any of the luxury items and other stuff that i bought for myself that i really like idk.

for my pets, i actually have 5. i have four cats (damian, ebony, maddie and charlie) and a doberman (rocco). damian and rocco are currently staying with me because they are the ones who need the most personalised care that i know how to deal with, and the other three are staying with my siblings because without peter, i can't take care of them all fully with all the shit i'm juggling (mostly spiderman duties...).

i don't really have a favourite piece of clothing.. i just make sure i love my whole wardrobe and i'm not wasting my money buying things i can't wear and have to throw out after.

my favourite animal would be a fox, especially corsac or sechuran foxes. they're so cute!! and i love when they bark (?).

notes: wow this ended up really long.. if you read all the way to the end, i love you (/hj). and yes, i did skip over the fame questions because i think it's too long and i've yapped too much about that alr (it'd just end up being repetitive).

this is the shifting exercise by @zaddizu

div. credits: @jiyascepter

[moirindeclermont]

Bridgerton folks, thank you for the warm welcoming to my lastest creation!

We were left with poor Past!Colin passed out after seeing him and Pen.

What is going to happen now?

I hope you'll enjoy this one.

--

When Colin come back to reality, he was in a luxurious bed. There was light inside, meaning he certainly could not make it in time for his wedding.

He thought he would be angry or frustrated... Instead he was relieved.

Why was he relieved?

Then, memory of the night started flooding his brain.

Pen and a copy of himself... Groping and kissing on that bench.

He was up in a moment, trying to understand if he just dreamed everything or else.

He looked around and saw his robe - that didn't pay well for his sanity.

With the robe on, he ventured into the estate. It was cleary the Featherington one, but with a sophisticated touch it never had the few times he was there before.

He could hear Pen's voice, a shiver crossing him as the idea that what he did saw was real.

Arrived at the drawing room, he found a small table, with three plates.

Pen was already there, looking at him with something in her eyes that made his stomach turn.

"Colin! Thank goodness you're awake. I was so worried."

She went to touch his hand, then she seemed to suddenly remember who he was and stopped in her track. He couldn't not notice the wedding ring on her finger.

She was married to his copy?

He sat, overwhelmed.

"Do you know what it is happening?"

The other Colin entered the room in that moment.

"We were waiting for you. I know how it sounds and I know what you're going to do, because I already lived it.

I'm you - as you already figured out - I'm actually you, not a copy. I'm just ten years older andmuch more handsome, " he said, earning a scoff from Pen.

He did not stop, but went near Pen, placing a tender kiss on her head.

"Yes, I'm married to Pen. We've been married nine years now. I'm sure you can do the math..."

Older Colin sat near him, serving a generous amount of pastries and sweets is his plate. He was glad to see that certain stuff didn't change.

"I know you have questions. We'll go on a small ride soon. For now, rest assured that you'll come back in a week from now, and you'll be just outside Bridgerton house. Ready for your wedding."

"A week? With you two??"

He asked, struggling to believe everything he just listen.

"With us five, in fact. Ten if you conts the servants. The kids are going to be here shortly. Everyone know you are a distant cousin who looks like exactly like me. Just reserve your questions for later."

And a moment after, three little hurricanes arrived.

"You must be Christopher. You look exactly like papa. I'm Agatha!" said a young girl with his eyes and Pen's hair, no older than nine. His heart ached for being called papa, even if it wasn't him.

The two boys were twins and they seemed much shy, they could be no older than four.

"These are Thomas and George," the twins were hiding behind Pen's body.

Pen looked at him again, before taking the twins and the girl and leaving them.

"Papa and Cousin Christopher have to talk," she said, leaving him to face his older self.

He felt suddenly green.

They had a family. Pen and him were a family.

"Take your time. I know it's a lot to digest. When you're ready, come meet me in the stable," leaving him to deal with the news, as if his world didn't suddenly shifted on its axis.

Tbc

[lains-reality]

hello! i rlly love your blog and the way you explain things

how do i just apply? whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info and things i have to make sure i’m doing right then i spiral and over consume again. i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore.

what’s the simplest way to apply all of this and just “manifest” (i don’t rlly like this word bc it implies there’s a process or that i’m trying to get) my dream life? thank you

hi! ty!

it takes some courage! i also read a lot as a way to feel secure, but eventually i just got tired and just decided 'i have no more fears from this day on! done with this!' and i made it a practise to stop avoiding myself whenever something comes up

its all very natural, i can't say how you'll just finally decide that your over this lol

"whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info"

well, learn how to stop yourself in the moment. you're putting too much pressure on your character! it only know what it knows now, it will not accept anything outside of what it already knows! thats why you leave it alone. read all you want to read, but stop when you feel like you have to. like you must. let yourself relax.

"i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore."

good! keep going!

"what’s the simplest way to apply all of this"

just do it. try it and see. something that is a recurent theme in all the posts and book i read, is to try it. experiment. just for this one moment, let all the worries go. promise to never make problems for yourself again. you've given up troubles now, no more. just test it and see. surrender. let the mind cry and scream, for this moment, you won't allow it to deter you from freedom.

i'll give a list of stuff that helped me

theres only now -> stop bringing the past to now, learn to sit in the present moment

stop avoiding emotions, sit with the fear, discomfort etc

you already are Self! nothing can undo that!

be patient

non attachment (or detachment)

experiment - take something you already know and test it

question everything

find out what are the stories you want, what the desire will supposedly give you

it is not necessary to get rid of thoughts or images just stop deriving identity from them

"am i arguing for my limitations?"

soon more lovely thoughts and images will appear in your awareness and you can choose what you want

can you outgrow it? not you. observe it? not you. in the absense of it, you don't dissapear? not you.

be okay with not having it. get to a place where no one and no thing can disturb you (and your happiness and peace)

just see how absurd all this shit is. like i was born? what was it like before i was born? why is it normal to hear your voice in your head? no one knows what tomorrow is but we all worry abt it, where tf does the voice in your head come from? how can we actually identify feelings, what if the feeling pride isn't actually pride and you've been lied to? do you know how crazy this is for an infant?! we say we are an [x] person and that changes and so we say we are an [y] person, so who are we?? if we can change like that? being a human is confusing, seek the truth out and question all

just start to disidentify as the body-mind. when you disidentify as the body-mind you'll start to feel better as all the pressure you put on your character falls away. this will intice you to keep going as you feel freer!

have fun!! go and live life!! appriciate what you have now - this is all expressing the character, omnipr3sence, perfectly! you'll start to see "i barely thought abt x 2 days ago and now i see it here lol" "i was worrying about y and now i see it here too" "oh so this comes along with being the character too, maybe i should change that story"

you're in your own dream, see it as your dream and you'll start seeing the connections.

no need to convince the character, just move on. let yourself doubt this 'reality'

disclaimer: i'm still learning too! so please keep practising and have your own epiphanies!

reading

habit

no need to convince

behaviour

[ddlcbrainrot]

Okay, thing about ["Can they be happy if they're all not real"] you HAVE to assume that they will be if there wasn't a proper ending, if you didn't have to directly interface as a god to their world, they would eventually learn to deal with the nature of their reality because there is no other option, and while you could see that as something to be terrified of, I don't think it should be. Life as a whole, artificial or not is meant to have meaning, but something that frustrates alot of people is the fact the purpose of life is inherently undefined, there's NO meaning on it's own, and if there isn't any meaning to start out with, how could there EVER be meaning? However, that's not how things really are, right? because you live for a reason, a personal reason tied to who you are I'm not just talking about ["Oh you were born!"] ["You have some divine reason to be here!"] NO! the idea that someone else should get to determine your life purpose, that life itself should determine your purpose is fucking STUPID to me because if you know it consciously or not, you have a reason to live, as a core moral principle, or a simple motivation, you have a reason to live and THAT is life's meaning life DOESN'T have a perfect story, no inherent theme to weave through it's different timelines life has NO meaning but the kicker here is that your life, your human experience is driven by motivation motivation IS life's meaning, nothing else So the idea that anyone, trapped for eternity would succumb to despair, forever? is STUPID because eternity is a WHILE and the idea that only one emotion can be even conceptualized to stay the same amount of potent over that eternity is also, really, really dumb if life, experience, doesn't have variables, risks, lows, than what is the POINT?! an afterlife, a fate where you are eternally happy, it seems good! yeah! but it is PURPOSELESS you don't have any drive to GET better, because you're already perfect! there's no need to work to achieve anything, because you'll be in a CONSTANT high eternal bliss is a hell of lost humanity, lost purpose and personally, the idea of overwhelming trial and suffering for eternity in hope of getting better, is SO so much more beautiful to me in this thought, the Doki's are in a type of hell, I recognize that an eternity of somewhat solitude, trapped from what is real but they never experienced that, they aren't trapped, they've been born in hell and I don't think that fate will stay as bad because torment dulls over time, you begin to be able to deal with it better and if they are all trapped together and able to experience life to some degree of normalcy, everything might be okay you might disagree with me but my main reason for thinking this is that even with an eternity in hell, you must believe that eventually, you can be happy sure, it may be short lived but it's better to have hope in hell, than to be purposeless so yeah I think that they'll be able to handle being trapped outside of humanity's world they have an eternity to get used to it, one can assume

you said it yourself, people in real life are kind of obsessed with finding meaning, or just have some sort of comfort in the idea that they should their lives have a greater purpose or worth if that makes sense. so, having that being taken away for you, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that your whole life is fake, that there is no greater purpose to strive for, would be a hell of a realisation. and i think it would take a toll on all of the girls.

but i do agree that eventually they would learn to be content with what they have. the road towards that acceptance is gonna be a long one, and as u said urself they do have all of eternity to figure it out

[colorisbyshe]

I do think a lot of the self-obsessed "I can use any label to describe myself I want, identify with any culture I want, without actually living its material reality" (ie "I can be punk and not listen to punk or engage with any punk culture," culture as aesthetic-only, identifying as an activist and not doing shit, wanting to belong to a marginalized group despite... not being part of it) stems from an actual lack of community irl. (Not lack of available community, to be clear, but lack of engagement with potential community.)

Like, a huge part of it is a narcissistic need to define everything by your own terms but the reason why a lot of people feel like identity is solely personal is because... they haven't been part of the community where you experience people about the inner and outer boundaries of what their identity is. Communities where people work to come to a consensus on what they really are.

Like most communities spend... an abundant amount of time judging what does/doesn't count, what does/doesn't fit. They talk about values--if it's more an activist space, it's about values and expected actions. Music based subcultures constantly discuss what is and isn't part of the genre, what's authentic or not. People clash, form sub-sub cultures.

There's lots of lines drawn in the sand and nuance and headbutting and tentative agreements.

But if you're just on your own, not engaging with people or these spaces, you just have Your Lone Opinion. You have the "signals" of belonging to a community, where maybe other people outside-the-communities might approach you and bond with you, in a twisted way forming your OWN lesser-form community based on simulacra, so you'll feel less lonely, but you still haven't actually taken part of the truly communal experience.

And then when you actually try to engage... you probably get overwhelmed by the diverse-yet-still-strictly-defined experiences. And disengage. Going back to the self.

Like wear what you want (I wear shirts for bands/shows I've never engaged with but think look cool), do what you want, but maybe join a book club or art class or whatever in town and find a sense of community in that form instead of tearing at subcultures and marginalized groups you don't actually belong to and have no interested in meaningfully engaging with. Community is out there, you don't have to force your triangle peg into the circle hole.

You don't have to settle for just FEELING like you belong, you can find spaces where you actually belong.

[cant-you-be-m1ne-forever]

I'm so out of energy.

Sorry for venting so regularly but like i am just-- tired.

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Why am I hating this-

Feeling like it's so complicated, having simple problems but you can share it with no ones.

Feeling like you're too focus on small thing.

But nothing changes if you do say it out because it's just "simple thing" which you shouldn't paid an eye on it.

But you paid an eye on it so now you're suffering.

Feeling like they don't care, you're sitting waiting for them but you never dared to ask them out because you know how they will react and it'll hurt you even.

Feeling like you're trying your best not to be left behind but what you're having is just the dark swallowed your shadow.

Feeling like everything you're doing is not enough, it's a waste of time.

Feeling like you're just feeling like this all over again right when you hoped for the best, like-- when you're really changed and then suddenly you're downed.

Stopped hoping, stopped searching.

And now you're on your knees, reminiscing about the day of middle February.

Feeling like you're just doing nonsense to someone and they keep treating everyone nicely when treating you like a spare tire.

And every relationship you're having is not safe for you to share since they don't listen, they just giving their opinions which you knew but couldn't follow because everything was too overwhelming.

The worst part is, it's overwhelming when there's nothing to be overwhelmed.

Is this called mental disorders?

When you tried your best, risking your secure feelings, risking your own fucking safe zone to see the traumatizing past and fight it time over time to heal. It needed so much courage, like the dangerous trip you could have with your own self alone, but now it's back and probably nothing changed at all.

Feel like you're exaggerating it yourself but you can't help sitting alone in somewhere and literally zoned out running away from reality.

Like in your darkest time, you chose to end yourself but it was all criticality and no ones helped, no ones said sorry, they just wanted to keep you living without caring how much they hurted just to keep themselves from the feeling of guilt.

So what about you?

If you keep living, what will happen to you?

Trying to live with their expectations, because nothing will change otherwise after your suicidal attempts, they'll think that they were right keeping you alive like that and now they have all rights to keep the bad things which made you desperate.

Because you're just young and childish, you're selfish and stupid in their eyes, so they'll keep thinking that they're right and forcing you to live like them.

Or they'll fake it to change but what else when you realize it's just something they can never be and who they are will be keep like who they are forever, and that's even worse because you'll set a hope but then nothing will make that hope real.

You wish they could see what you're seeing in your life everytime but at the same time you know they won't ever be stable enough to keep trying it after one day of experience.

The one you see and treating like a priority is not seeing you as their priority. So you're just considering to keep them as one. Even though they're the only one you're setting hope for, they're the only one you're looking forward to, they're the only one, only one but maybe giving up makes everything better.

Just more painful a little bit.

You thought thing could change after it's brought to a higher places but no, that's nothing different because you're not someone they prioritize, they just don't dare to loose you because you're just someone who keeps them from the loneliness, who gives them affection and attention. They ask from you a lot but you receive a small amount, not only on physical but on mental, you can see it also. Clearly and obviously, you're just not as precious to a person as you hoped.

Even you already knew you don't have the rights to hope like that.

Just, you realized everyone look happier without you.

That's a fact since you don't know how to joke, don't know how to make a pun, don't know how to make people smile. And with the thing living in your head, who will stand it through the night?

You have nothing but yourself but you hate yourself so much to the point you can't stand your own existence.

Is it too much asking for a suitable companion?

Is it too much for not wanting to go through all of these?

Is it too much for asking for forgiveness?

Is it too much looking for love?

Just feel like no ones can accept all of yours, even if they said they do, you feel like it's a lie. The most painful thing is, no one will accept you when you're at your lowest.

You wish you could help, but it's hard when you just hate yourself.

[aurosoulart]

Hey, sorry if this is bad(?), but I was wondering if you had any advice for getting into the xr world/career. I think I've seen you mention the topic (encouraging others to join the field?) at least once, but I don't know how to even get started. Thank you for your time!

(If you could answer this not publicly I would appreciate it, but it's fine if you do, or like, if you don't answer at all)

not a bad thing to ask at all! I've actually been in the middle of writing a guide about this for some time that I will.... hopefully finish sometime soon ghskgh.

I hope you don't mind me posting this publicly - I ended up writing a short novel and figure it might be useful to others who are curious as well! anyways, the advice I give to people with a background in illustration is to start out with a Quest 2 headset. they retail at $300 new, but you can get them used via eBay, Craigslist, FB Marketplace or someplace like that for around $200 or under. the Quest 2 works without needing to be plugged into a PC, though you will probably want to buy a more ergonomic head-strap to make it more comfortable. (the head strap that Meta sells is overpriced, but this third-party one is really good) if you're interested in working with augmented reality (the type of work I do!) and have the ability to save up some extra money, I'd recommend waiting for the release of the Quest 3, which will launch this fall and cost $500. totally not a requirement at all to start learning, though.

other than that, I'd recommend starting out with free art programs like Open Brush and Gravity Sketch to familiarize yourself with creating in-headset. both of these programs have a large amount of tutorial videos up on YouTube - as well as an active community of other artists who are all generally very friendly and eager to help people learn. VR Art Live and The Spatial Canvas's Discord servers are the communities I'm part of. :)

after that, it all just comes down to posting your new artwork online to as many platforms as you can mentally handle (this is the hardest part for me, ghsghs), and also looking at paid XR artist programs/gigs. Mozilla Hubs, Horizon Worlds, and Figmin XR (that's me!) all have some creator opportunities where they pay people to create things on their platform.

you can also find work doing XR concept art, art performances, and I've even seen grant programs for XR artists from art galleries. these things are harder to find, but if you make a LinkedIn page and a modest portfolio of your XR art, chances are high that you'll get some eyes on it.

it's ridiculously easy to be a big fish in a small pond right now if you have any kind of skills with these programs. I will say that there does seem to be a push towards people who can create things that are interactive and can be shared with others (like AR Snapchat/TikTok/Instagram filters, experiences created and published to platforms like Mozilla Hubs, Figmin XR, etc.), so that's something to keep in mind while learning - but not something that should stop you!

going from 2D illustration to creating things in 3D space is a whirlwind of learning new skills that can often feel overwhelming, but the most important thing is that it should feel fun and enjoyable to you. I started out by just listening to music while painting in Tilt Brush (Tilt Brush was the original version of Open Brush, before Google made it open-source) and creating whatever felt the most fun in the moment. everything else just came from natural curiosity and connecting with other artists in the space.

lastly... I have no technical (coding, traditional 3D modeling) skills. I am a 2x college dropout with chronic mental illness, and prior to my current employment I was never able to hold a job for longer than 3 months. and yet....... this new industry has changed my life completely, and at 29 years old I finally feel like I have a purpose. I'm somehow a software developer now, without needing to know anything about software development. that's wild!!!

this is why I'm so excited for the future. if this brand-new technology (still in its infancy! viewed as frightening by so many!!) was able to help me in such a radical way... what will that mean for even more people discovering it as it becomes more accessible?

I don't know the answer to that yet... but I do know how wonderful it is to see people learning about all of this for the first time. helping with that alone is more than enough for me 💖

[sugarytulips]

Stupid scenario, cringe Ethan x Reader bullshit I pulled from my ass. It's not a normal one shot bc I can't write dialogue, so... Here, ig

∆∆∆∆

It's cold in the apartment, the rain falls heavily against the small apartment and the atmosphere is grey. It's the feeling you get when you recall your childhood memories, but of sorrowful nostalgia rather than whimsical colours. Everything just feels so... blurry. Maybe it's not, but your soul feels so hazy, and you're lost in a mute calm.

He sits there, alone, head in his arms, and for a moment you believe he's resting. But you know better.

You can't feel it, you don't know how you can't, but your body moves on its own. You don't need to say anything, as you finally approach him. He doesn't move, doesn't seem to acknowledge your presence, like his mind is lost somewhere else. Your hands reach out, feeling the soft, worn fabric of his jacket. He does not move, but the slight hitch in his breath tells you he is aware, if only slightly.

You lean down to press a light kiss to his shoulder, murmuring soft reassurances to him. Your lips pressed against the back of his neck as you rub light circles over his forearm with your thumb. It is a small act, but appreciated.

The rain falls heavily, skies darken just a bit more but you don't care. It's a welcome sort of white noise, as your arms wrap around him. He doesn't say much, but when he does, his voice is gentle, broken. It seems his mind still replays memories of that time. No, not memories... Cruel reminders of what once was.

You doubt your words would be of much help, after all, no amount of kind words would truly help a man who had suffered a pair far greater than any other. Your heart aches for him, the man you love, and the knowledge of his suffering would continue to haunt you to your very grave.

You gently pull him from his seat and he lets you, your hand finding his and he grasps it immediately, tight as though you would vanish if he let go. This was not unusual. You guide him to the couch and sink into it, pulling him into your lap. He's far bigger than you, although only a few inches taller, his height easily overwhelms you. But you don't mind this, and no matter how many times he begs you not to, you pull him into your hold, your warm, loving embrace.

At one point, you settle yourself to lay down, pulling him with you. He protests, but his voice has long since grown weary. He is tired, you know this. Tired of remembering the same nightmares, tired of yearning for a life that had left him so horrifically... Tired of living.

So, he does not move to push away, not that he ever wanted to. The cold that seeps i. His complaints have since silenced, and he breathes a deep, shuttering sigh of relief. Your arm around his waist, keeping him tethered to this new reality, your other hand combing so carefully through his hair, careful not to harm him. You are so patient with him, so loving.

He misses his old life. His old family. His son. You may not be able to fill the gap in his heart... But you'll be there for him. You made the cold bearable.

The rain has never been more peaceful.

∆∆∆∆

(Cringey ahh writing, yes this was made with Ethan Mars in mind shhhh)

[divinegrey]

bottom reyna when???

oh honey, bottom reyna is my GOSPEL lets fucking GO

NSFW!!!

TASTY TOPPINGS | BOTTOM!REYNA X GN!READER

words: 1000 warnings: explicit 18+ content, minors dni. domme bottom reyna, mentions of implicit servitude, read at your own discretion.

HEADCANONS

The statement "Reyna is a top" might be one of the most frequent statements you've heard being bandied around in the lounge room when everyone is too drunk to care about politeness. What else is there to talk about except the sex lives of your coworkers?

But you, being one of Reyna's frequent hookups... you know the full truth of it.

In the bedroom, Reyna is the pure definition of topping from the bottom. The woman is obsessed with chasing the feelings of pleasure and pain, both in her work and in the bedroom. Most would assume she's too controlling to allow herself to be touched.

In reality, it's quite the opposite. You're nothing more than a tool for Reyna's pleasure, to be used exactly how she wants it and when she wants it.

You're more than happy to do it. Reyna doesn't fuck just anyone in the Protocol. In fact, she's exceedingly picky about who gets to see her full beauty and greatness with their own two eyes. Lucky you!

Within the Protocol, you're the only person who's set foot into her room and into her bed. Let's just say you get the reward of a lifetime whenever you do your job in taking care of her.

There have been some moments with Reyna that you'll always remember, with a few in particular that never fail to make you hot in the cheeks.

SPICY HEADCANONS

One such instance was the first time you and Reyna hooked up. It was after a mission and the adrenaline surge was running high in your blood. Reyna looked near manic and feral with the amount of souls and energy she had consumed, and it seemed that she wanted something more out of it.

And so you became her willing victim. How are you going to say no to one of the prettiest (and most terrifying) women you've ever met in your life?

The moment you reached Reyna's room, you were being stripped of your armor and clothes, and you were moving to undo the straps of Reyna's protective gear before she shoved you back onto her bed.

"Listen closely, cariño," Reyna's voice was raspy with her whisper, her hand gripping your face. Your heart was pounding, and you knew she could hear it. Reyna's eyes were glowing, almost to an extreme, and you could feel a faint tingling from her hands pressing into your skin. "I gave you the honor of being in this room with me. You will not abuse that honor. You will do as you are told. Understood?"

All you could say in reply was a very soft "Yes, ma'am."

Lucky for you, Reyna was delighted by your obedience, and went on to make a show of removing her clothes. You didn't dare move an inch from your spot on your bed, and while Reyna moved, showing more and more of her skin, you felt your brain slipping somewhere else. Somewhere more... light.

You felt fuzzy all over. Whether this was an effect of Reyna or not, you didn't care. There was an overwhelming need to serve her, filling your bones with blistering hot arousal.

Finally, finally, Reyna took her seat on your face, her hand gripping your hair with her nails in your scalp, and the truth became realized.

You're nothing but a toy for Reyna's pleasure. Reyna takes, and she takes, and she takes until she is limp and shaking with pleasure. Your face is covered with her slick and though you can hardly breathe, you continue devouring her with the intent of a starving man on his knees at the altar of a god.

Reyna is a goddess, you find yourself thinking. I want to serve her. I want to be hers.

Reyna rode your face until she orgasmed, hot and heavy on your face with a full-body shudder that was followed by a profound release of energy.

It was only until after Reyna was fully satiated that you discovered the first night was your indoctrination.

Afterward, Reyna would summon you to her room at the dark hours of the night, and every single time, you would go. Pleasing Reyna became an addiction, one that you never wanted to let go of because seeing Reyna in the throes of pleasure was far too beautiful a sight to rid yourself of.

Some nights she would mount your face. Others, she would have you kneel at the foot of the bed with your hands behind your back, like a true supplicant, and make you beg to pleasure her.

You always would.

Why wouldn't you, after all?

She's the Empress, and you're her mere subject.

But nobody knows.

Nobody will know the things that you do in the dark for Reyna. The things you have done for her. The things you will continue to do.

BONUS

Friday nights in the lounge room are always a fun time. Jett, Phoenix, and a few others are playing a nasty game of monopoly that seems to have been running on for weeks, with you as the appointed referee to keep things calm.

In the corner of your eye, you notice the door to the lounge room crack open. A whisper of something that only reaches your ears, followed by a crackling sensation that races up your spine.

Pink eyes stare at you from the dark for a mere moment in time, before disappearing.

Letting out a yawn, you stretch on the couch before standing up. "I'm going to bed, losers. Don't kill each other."

Nobody gives pause to your exit. Phoenix bids you goodnight with a wave of his hands, and Jett steals some paper money from Neon while the latter isn't looking.

You move through the halls until you arrive to the door of Reyna's room. You knock. You enter. You close the door, twist the lock, then fall to your knees.

Footsteps follow, and a warm hand cups your jaw, tilting it upward.

"I've trained you so well, pet." Reyna murmurs. She cocks her head to the side. "Mommy wants to come on your face. Get on the bed."

Without question, you move to the bed.

Reyna flashes you a sharp grin, and you fall prey to her once again.

~~~~~ A/N: can you tell that im a little obsessed with bottom!reyna

[nochuvalencia]

𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk

I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi

⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have

“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.

“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.

You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.

Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.

He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.

After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.

You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.

You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.

“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.

A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.

It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?

You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.

He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.

It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.

So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.

A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.

+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?

+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?

+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore

You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.

me : it’s my car asshole

me : bought it with the money u left me

me :thx baby <3

+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?

me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck

+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money

me : why should i listen to you?

me : you aren’t my bf

+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u

me : already did bye babe

You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.

Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..

And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.

This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”

You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.

“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.

“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.

“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.

“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.

And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.

“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.

“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.

“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.

“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.

“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.

“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.

“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.

“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.

“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.

Yummy as fuck.

Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.

“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.

“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.

You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.

+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run

+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove

“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.

You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?

You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.

me : i’ll take your offer

me : this is ____ btw

You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.

+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are

+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20

+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart

Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.

In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.

You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.

“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.

“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.

“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.

“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”

You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.

“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.

“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.

“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.

“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.

You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.

Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.

It was huge.

You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.

Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.

“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.

You were wrong. He noticed immediately.

He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.

“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.

“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.

He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.

“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.

“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.

He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.

“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.

“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.

“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.

You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.

“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.

He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.

“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.

After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.

You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.

“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.

“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.

You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.

“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.

When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Knight

Pairing: Minho x gn. reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 0.55k words

Mellow speaks: Minho is here to be everyone's dark knight!! Hope you guys enjoy haha, especially 🫒nonnie!!

Tagging: @freckledwinterfalls

Riding on a white horse,

Heading to save you,

Who's trapped in the darkness

To the world, Lee Minho appears to be a rude, narcissistic man who loves having people fawn over him. He knows he's talented, he knows he's good-looking, why would he spare so much as a glance at anyone apart from his own reflection, right?

But you're the only one who knows just how wrong this perception is. Because in your heart, you hold the memories of all the times Lee Minho has saved you, in more ways than one.

I'm your dark knight,

I can skilfully defeat,

The monsters in your dreams

He's your knight. Sure, maybe he doesn't have a shining armor, but who likes mainstream anyway? He's your dark knight, out to save you from all your demons, be it the monsters under your bed, or that ex-boyfriend who broke your heart.

He might never get the chance to save you from a tower high up in the mountains, but you can bet that he'll always find a way to protect you from the dangers that lurk behind dorm doors and drunken glasses.

One might think it's just your casual young love, given the way the two of you seem to be fooling around every living second. But what they'll never know is that every time you've found yourself be overwhelmed, be it because of overflowing emotions or a killing numbness, he's been there.

He's been there, his form galloping in on a white horse, the prettiest you've ever seen, from the depths of the dark, his hand outstretched for you to take. When you're with him, you can finally sleep peacefully, your fears at bay as long as you're in his embrace.

He's the one who saved you, and he's the one who always saves you. That's what you say to anyone who asks, blissfully oblivious of how he utters the exact same words whenever he talks about you, little stars dancing in his eyes.

I have slight much if a fear,

But look,

I'm pushing my way through the dark woods

He's scared too, of course he is. He's got stuff he'd rather hide in the darkest parts of his heart, because everyone does. But when he's with you, he feels himself grow stronger, his heart full of the need to protect you.

He's always been popular, and while he does enjoy the attention, what he dislikes is the amount of negative attention that comes along with it. The ugly rumors that make him want to roll his eyes and gag at how mean people's imagination can be.

But you. You're the only one who sees him for who he is, the only one who is willing to look past the rumors and actually get to know him. The real him. That's what makes him adore you, makes him fall even harder in love with you.

Baby don't worry,

You'll be safe beside me

And even though you'd think he would see it as a hassle, that's really not the case. Because he's willing to do anything, even if it means making a fool of himself, if it's for you.

And so, even though you know he's your knight, even though you know you sleep better when sharing a bed with him, in reality, you're just as much as his knight as he's yours.

[ignisnocturnalia]

I think I've figured out how I want to write these (Exposition/mini story, when relationship is established HCs actually start) based on a previous statement I made, also ANOTHER REQUEST! All headcanons are placed at the back of the story part. Let's get this ball rolling!

Crow x Reader

"Now, if he ever flies too far from the nest?" Spider leans forward, "Boom." Your stomach made a flip at the kingpin's explanation, and you've never been more uncomfortable to have your Ghost out in the open. Some part of your mind is saying 'Who cares? That's the man that killed Cayde', but another half is saying 'He has no idea. It isn't fair to judge him for something he can't remember'.

That meeting had happened an hour ago and you couldn't get his dumb gray face out of your head. He looked so.. sad. Regardless, having a Ghost rigged with explosives did not sit right with you at all. Spider wanted you to help him with his Wrathborn problem? Sure, alright. When all of this was over, you knew exactly what you wanted your payment to be.

One large change about the new light that you've found impossible to ignore is diminutive he is. His commentary after successful hunts and small chats after a lure upgrade is administered are curt. Even more surprising is his willingness to present mercy to the corrupted Fallen. He is nothing like Uldren.

Acknowledging this division between his past and present self is when you start to realize that you like working with him. A lot. Probably more than just work, but will you admit it? No. Besides, you tell yourself, he really doesn't look like he's searching for a relationship while figuring himself out.

Petra often asks why you've taken to visiting the Tangled Shore so frequently now, and everytime you scramble to spit out an answer, something stupid like "Spider has a good deal running right now". In some part, it's true, since when you're not hunting Wrathborn you're showing Crow how to do Guardian stuff and explaining Last City life to him. His calm and curious demeanor is extremely cute, and the velvet sound of his voice does not help.

When Spider has both of you run point on a mission you always look to the rafters of the building to try and see him or listen for his steps. He's annoyingly good at stealth. The only time you ever had to be stealthy was in the Gorgon's lair and the Pleasure Gardens. You wish you could speak to him unfiltered; if Spider ever discovered your crush he wouldn't let you hear or see the end of it.

As the months dragged on and you came closer to catching the High Celebrant, you caught yourself anxiously wondering what lie at the end of it all. What if Spider didn't let you take him? And if he did, would Crow stay with you or do his own thing? Greedy little thoughts ran through your head as you thought of all the times you shared together, both of you visibly happy in your eyes.

As much as you'd like to live a runaway life with him and hope he felt the same, you knew it was wrong. He'd get restless, and you'd start fighting. Whatever he chose to do, is what you would let him do. Osiris has taken notice of your feelings, and the knowing glances he gives when no one else is looking sets your face on fire, acting like he doesn't have a thing for Saint always writing those letters when he's on death's doorstep; dramatic is what you say.

Soon enough, all of your close friends can tell you like someone, but they simply can't figure out who. Ironically, the day you work up enough courage to ask him to be your partner is the same day he pins the location of the High Celebrant. The morning is tense, and just getting ready for the big fight is sending energy through your body. Crow, on the other hand, seems much more grim. It makes sense, really; you're the one who's been slaying gods over the years.

You're guard is quickly brought up when Spider summons you for a talk in the main room. You listen to his next words with a fierce intensity.

"Do not let him so close, or spoil him with pretty dreams. Kill the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath's hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prise in my lair as your reward. You'll have earned it."

Hiding a smile, you nod and make your way to disembark on your mission; looks like you won't have to ask.

The Dreaming City was as mystical as ever, and you vaguely wondered if Petra had seen you come in. Making quick work of the scarce Hive, you found yourself in Harbinger's Seclude. The massive Cryptolith was impossible to miss, and a full body shiver racked you as you approached it. This was it.

Stabbing the lure into the roots, Crow's voice filled your comm channel.

"Ha! Tagged it! It's bleeding energy and on its way back to you." Your heart jumped at his excited tone. Nobody had any business being that cute. The trademark screech of a Hive portal drowned out all noise, and your next big fight ensued.

The next period of time was spent chasing the Celebrant through realms, until, that is, it sealed the last portal. Osiris had given weak condolences, but you weren't going to give up on Crow. Not today! The blight high above you twinkled teasingly as frustrated tears swam over your eyes as you attempted scrambling up the large Awoken statue, just barely missing the hand and falling back to the ground uselessly.

The silence was becoming overwhelming, deafening, even. Osiris continued to tell you to return to fight another day, but he was too important for you to just leave behind.

"Maybe there's enough Hive magic left in the lure to find another way through!" For once, your Ghost didn't parrot the obvious; you almost wanted to kiss him. Turning around with a new fire, you thrusted your lure into the crystalline floor over the last trace of the High Celebrant's blood. Sure enough, platforms much like those of the Dreadnaught revealed themselves over the edge of the bridge.

You wasted no time, racing over every gap and closing in on the blight. Palpitations overtook your heart when Crow's voice returned to the feed, spewing some kind of death message. Death wouldn't take him. Especially not if you had anything to say about it.

Jumping through the portal, you recognize the bitter feelings of anguish. This is exactly how you felt when Sundance's light washed over the Prison of Elders. Not again.

By the time you see the High Celebrant, all you're seeing is red. Faintly, you remember how Drifter said the Hive in the system were scared of you; good. They should be.

Bullets fly and the ether sings with each corrupted Fallen whose head flies by your gun. If you weren't so pressed for time, you would've strangled the Wizard that had your sought after stolen Light. Standing in the pool of green magic, you turn a furious glare on to the Celebrant and unload your heavy straight into its bony head. Something inside of you lurched in desperation to finish the kill when it summons a portal, trying to make for a retreat and trapping you at the center of the room.

"Crow! The portal!"

"I see it! Now finish it!" Just as he says those words, the trap falls and the portal across the room implodes, sending the High Celebrant to its knees. Your body erupts with power as you descend upon the Hive that killed Sagira and nearly killed Crow, sending it off with your super into the abyss.

Heaving a sigh, your brain finally has a chance to clear with no more present danger. In fact, your chest swells with affection as your Ghost confidently speaks of his trust in Crow followed by his reply.

"It's been an honor, Guardian."

Finally leaving the location, Celebrant head included, you decide to sleep on your short trip back. Your Ghost wakes you up before you land, and when you transmat your eyes immediately fall on Crow, who is safe and sound. Behind your helmet, you smile wearily at the former prince.

The moment you step into the Spider's lair, the air is thick with tension. You can tell the kingpin is pleased to have the Shore cleansed of Hive corruption, but also upset that he has to give up one of his prizes.

"It's done." You say firmly.

"So it is... so it is," he leans forward in his seat with a leer, "All right, Guardian. As promised, you can have a prized bauble from my lair as compensation for your... heroics." The last word rolls off his tongue with a quiet distaste, and you have no problem returning the feeling.

"I want... him." Jerking your head in Crow's direction, you can feel the energy crack through the room.

"Cute. Real funny." Your brows crease in impatience at his dismissive snicker.

"You said anything in the room." You do your best to keep your eyes off of Crow; a distraction now could be bad news. Spider lets out a terrible laugh as his guards step forward, readying their spears.

"Oh... You really want my little bird," he puts an uncomfortable amount of importance on the words "really want", "Fine. You can have him." The large Fallen turns his gaze to Crow, mockingly waving his arm upward.

"Fly away," he looks back down at you, "and get the hell out of my lair."

No further instruction is needed as you and Crow make your leave. As you exit the safehouse, both Glint and your Ghost come out.

"Now what?" Glint looks to Crow for an answer. The reality of the event settles on the Awoken, and he looks at you in a way he hasn't before.

"Why would you do this for us?"

As a formality, you've never taken off your helmet around Crow. He'd never seen, or even had an idea about your face, until... now. The tear streaks from the mission are still on your face, slightly visible in the dim light. Walking over to him, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. He doesn't move away, but you do notice with a flash of hope that a blush is starting to grace his cheeks at your proximity. Clenching your eyes shut, you close the gap between you two and press a kiss to his lips.

He freezes for a moment before placing his hands on your shoulders, and you pull back afraid that you've just made the wrong move.

"I... uh." His eyes dart here and there before settling back on yours. His face straightens out, and then he hesitantly leans forward into your range again. This time, he's the one kissing you.

Both of you leave the Tangled Shore together.

Relationship HCs

He never fails to pick you up during your special brand of greeting, which is running straight at him and jumping into his arms. You even do the little spin around like those movie couples

He's okay with subtle PDA like handholding, but nothing too extreme such as kissing in front of others; he prefers to keep more intimate moments between you and him

Surprisingly eager for cuddles with you at the end of the day

He will let you indulge yourself by doing stupid things every once in a while, like seeing how much whipped cream you can put in his mouth before he can't take anymore

There are times when you just talk about random stuff because he knows you like the sound of his voice

He usually has to calm you down whenever another Guardian stares too long. You see it as a threat, and you're ready to defend your glowing boyfriend with your life

When you're not busy with Vanguard tasks, you're bringing him to the planets that weren't swallowed by the Darkness and showing him the layout, along with whatever endemic life is present

He becomes enamored with Earth's crows, which you had expected

Whenever he has visions of his past, he'll tell you and you do your best to fill in with rudimentary details such as location or time; you hope he never remembers the moment when you had to kill him

You especially love playing with his hair, it's nearly softer than silk and you are intrigued by the white streaks at the front of his cut

Both of you will decide to sit down every once in a while and just touch each other's face; you prefer running your hands along his jawline and cheekbones while he'll brush just under your eyes and along your temples

Dates can range from a quiet, romantic dinner to hunting down large and difficult quarry

Whenever you find a Golden Age waltz piece, you bring it to him and give it a listen; these sessions always end with you two dancing and swaying with each other

Truly, a couple of many talents

NSFW 👁👄👁

The first time you get anywhere close to the act he's so unsure of himself you both stop and instead explore each other at the surface level

No matter how many times he sees you nude his face is a blushing mess everytime

The first few times you take the lead, but once you both get over the fact that you've exchanged pleasantries he's the one who figures out he likes to be dominant in bed

He's vocal to an extent, mostly heavy breathing/moaning and grunts to let you know exactly how good you feel

He's super into bondage (who would've known?) whenever you're the one tying him up

He always prefers the ability to see your face, and whether it's because he can see your face contort in pleasure or because he can lock with you in a heated kiss, you can't tell

His sides are usually ticklish, but they act more like erogenous zones when both of you are deep into it

He starts out rough since he isn't used to this kind of activity at all, but over time he finds a balance between being gentle and absolutely blowing your back out

He's likely to caress your arms and waist the whole time to add another sensitive layer to your already overstimulated body

He also likes draping his body over yours, and with how hot his chest is and the press of his lower body? You're not arguing

Once you finish, he either goes straight to sleep while huddling against you or you convince him to get up so you can shower together

I have 2 asks for Drifter HCs, but I'm implementing a personal/request system so I can keep my monsterfucker train going. The next HCs I'm releasing are for Nokris, then I'll do Drifter HCs, and for now my last personal writing will be for Ghaul

[pars-ley]

Come away with me

Pairing: Jimin x f reader ft Namjoon x f reader

Summary: Roses are dead, my soul feels blue, come away with me, I only want you. Being forced into an arranged marriage is not ideal, even less so when you're hopelessly in love with someone else. But with your choice, could come bloody consequences.

Genre: arranged marriage au / affair au / angst / smut / fluff / mafia au / 

Rating: 18+ (nsfw)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Oral f recieving / sex / finger foreplay / mention of murder /

Beta reader: @taegularities​ thank you so much!

A/n: This is for the btswritersclub February prompt 'dishonest love'. 

When you die, do you think you'll be able to go back to the time you were the happiest, and relive those moments forever? 

Or if there's a life after this one, maybe it'll be another chance at happiness with the person who satisfies your soul completely.

Either way, your mind only sees one person behind your eyelids. And replays one moment…

Your bare breasts shine from the orange light of the fire, bathing you in a golden glow as you watch his soft, gentle lips cascade slowly down your body. Every part of your flesh he meets, sings under his touch and creates a pathway of goosebumps, leading him onward.

"You're so beautiful," Jimin whispers against you, an involuntary shiver vibrating down your spine.

You smile at his words, fingers smoothing the hair from his eyes so you can see him. His intense stare, so full of love and adoration makes your heart ready to burst in your chest, pouring emotion singing his name at full force.

His fingers are on you and in you, manoeuvring in a way only he can, knowing your body and pleasing you in ways that make your back arch and your toes curl. Your fingernails find anchorage in the soft pile rug beneath you as you ground yourself from floating away, as the feel of his hot, wet mouth on you is enough to tip you into the abyss.

When your quaking body eases under his touch, he climbs slowly up your body, his lips journey upward leaving a trail of wet prints behind him.

You pull him into a fiery kiss, tongues dancing a heated rumba. The taste of you on his mouth brings fresh heat straight to your core.

You have never felt more free and more happy than in this moment. You do not allow yourself to think about tomorrow. You want to drink in everything about this night.

"Run away with me," he whispers. 

His words are exactly what you long to hear and what you long to do.

"You know I can't." You stroke the side of his face, the curve of his cheek fitting perfectly in your palm.

"You can. Forget about what your duty is. Forget about your father. Live for yourself."

A sad laugh escapes you. "If only it was that simple."

He sits up, pulling you up with him. "It can be! Come away with me. We can go anywhere you want. Your dad won't find us, we can just live our life." 

Tears sting your eyes as hope overwhelms you. Could it be possible? To live your life freely with him and forget about everything else? 

"Please, choose me and I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me."

The desperate plea in his eyes has you melting and in this moment you truly believe it's possible.

You nod as he responds with a heart stopping beam, one that has you weak and wanting to do everything in your power to make sure it keeps dazzling you.

His hands capture the sides of your face, lips moving against yours, pouring every ounce of love into this kiss.

You make love on the rug in the firelight until the early hours of the morning. He draws his name from your lips more than once and you relish in being able to say it so freely. You've had a taste of freedom with him and you know you can't go back now.

"Pack a bag. Meet me at the old oak tree on the edge of town at noon?"

You nod as he strokes your face with his thumb, bringing you the most amount of comfort from such a tiny action.

As he sneaks out through your window, your heart leaves with him, feeling safe and loved in the warmth of his embrace.

You watch until the dark night captures him completely from your sight.

You and him forever, how it's meant to be. Could your dream become a reality?

You race to fetch your bag and begin shoving clothes and your most prized possessions in every crevice.

A knock on your door has you frozen in place before shoving your bag under your bed in time to see your mother’s face peer in.

"I thought I saw your light on," she says sweetly as she steps in, closing the door behind her. "Wedding day jitters?" she asks. 

You nod automatically, guilt already threatening to boil over inside you.

"I thought as much. I was the same when I married your father." She walks over, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, patting the space beside her. You do as she asks, as usual, and take a seat.

"Let me tell you something, and I want you to listen to every word." Her eyes blaze into yours, the sweet, cheery side gone, leaving you with only the intimidating and menacing side that made your stomach turn and your palms sweat.

"Before I married your father, I was in love with a boy. Handsome, charming, caring, adventurous, everything I'd ever wanted in a man, everything I could have hoped for. We had a very passionate relationship and we were seeing each other right up until the night before my wedding. That night he asked me to run away with him."

Your eyes pop but you dare not speak before she's finished.

"I wanted to, lord knows how often I still think about that moment but I chose not to follow my heart but to follow my duty, that's what matters the most, dear. I wouldn't have this wonderful life with my lovely dresses, my jewels, our cars, our boats, everything. I'd be a peasant, living the simple life. Is that what you want?" She raises a sharp eyebrow in your direction and you swallow the lump of fear in your throat. 

You want him, you'd gladly give up everything else but you dare not say those words out of fear of the consequences.

She sighs. "I know it's hard, believe me, giving up what you love and desire the most is not easy but it is worth it. Kim Namjoon can give you everything your father gives me. That's all I want for you, dear."

You don't miss the silent earning she's giving you as she stands and heads for the door.

"Because I love you, I'll give you the chance to make this right. Send a message to Park Jimin, telling him why you must marry Kim Namjoon and that he must leave you alone, and I will spare his meaningless little life." She shuts the door behind her, leaving you with a thick silence that grabs your throat and suffocates you.

Your dream is slipping away through your fingers as you grapple at it, attempting to keep it.

You want to run to him now. To grab him and never let go. You wish you could protect him but you can't. 

Seeing his face in your mind, you clutch your chest and let the sobs wrack your body. The love of your life further away than you could have imagined.

You want to run to him, to escape with him now but you dare not put him in any more danger, knowing he must already be being watched by your father’s people.

You were trapped, a prisoner in your own home, in your own life, destined to follow you mother’s footsteps and be the wife of a mob boss, enslaved in a loveless marriage forever. 

That is your destiny. As much as you want to believe differently, you have no choice. You couldn't risk Jimin's life for your selfish wants. He is more important than anything, he deserves to be happy with someone freely.

You sit at your desk and pour all of the love you have left in your words on the paper, printed forever for him to look back on, knowing you sealed your heart in the envelope just for him. Letting him know this sacrifice isn't an easy one and that he will have your heart for eternity and beyond. Begging him not to come and save you as the idea of a world where he isn't living could not keep you too.

You print the wax seal and scrawl his name across the front before letting your tears escape freely until you're lulled into a painful and restless sleep.

You snap out of the memory of last night and stare at your reflection in your long, ornate wedding gown, not a hair out of place, the perfect makeup concealing bags and red rimmed eyes.

You go through the motions of getting ready on autopilot, all noise fading into the background, everyone around you passing in a blur. You feel numb at the prospect of what you're about to do. 

You'd sent one of your fathers errand boys off with your letter, telling him exactly where Jimin would be. You can't bear to think of what his reaction will be when he reads it, you don't want to imagine the heartbreak your words will cause, you are already dealing with enough of your own.

In no time at all you are at the cathedral in the lobby, flowers in hand and desperately holding back the tears you feel burning behind your eyelids. 

"You look beautiful, darling," your father whispers as he intertwines your arm with his.

The empty pit in your chest that used to house your heart is throbbing with grief and mourning at the life you're entering and for the one you're leaving behind.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself as the large, oak double doors open and you're faced with the sea of guests turning back to admire you.

At the end of the aisle you see him, the stern, expressionless Kim Namjoon. Soon to be your husband. Looking at you with utter...indifference. As if you were nothing more than a simple business deal. Which is exactly what you are to him. You look away from his unrelenting, icy stare.

Thankful for the veil, concealing your true feelings behind the mesh fabric.

You glance at the faces you walk past, most people are here because of your parents, they're people you've never met or who you hardly know.

A familiar set of crescent eyes and plump lips draw your attention, capturing all your focus immediately as your stomach drops.

Jimin.

Your Jimin.

All you want to do is run to him, but you dare not falter and draw attention to him. How did he even get in?

Why is he here?

He moves slowly along the row towards you, panic seizing your organs and squeezing them in an alarming grip.

Your breath hitches in your throat and as it leaves your lips in a rush, your father follows your gaze and spots him. 

Everything stops. Everyone looks around to him and all you can hear is the hushed chatter of the people around you.

You can't bear to tear your eyes away from him as all he does is offer you that breathtaking smile that makes you believe in gods, and angels and everything in between.

You shut your eyes tight wanting to keep that image burned in your mind and not wishing to see whatever is about to happen next...

[ari-shipping-stuff]

Monochrome Week 2020

Day Five - High School AU

———

@monochromeweek

sequel to day three's fake dating au

———

Weiss couldn't get it out of her head.

It made her breathless. Light. Dreamy. She couldn't see clearly.

When she slept. Whenever she closed her eyes. The she was.

Blake, staring at her with that curious little head tilt she did. And her catlike amber eyes glowing under the orange lights.

In the place of every sound, it was still her. That one simple word. Her voice like velvet. Echoing relentlessly in her head.

And her hand. Held in hers. That's what had her the most. Their hands. Fingers intertwined. Staying that way for what Weiss wanted to be forever.

They never did let go last night. Not until the very last minute when Blake brought her home. And just before she left, she turned back. Another moment Weiss wished would last forever.

Blake had smiled ever so slightly. Easy to miss. But Weiss did see. Explosions might've gone off around her, but she could only see her smile. That smile that filled her with such an overwhelming, beautifully unfamiliar feeling that made her want to climb up a mountain and sing at the top of her lungs. To smile like there was no tomorrow. To steal every star from the sky. To conquer the world and give it all to Blake.

Weiss had all that to say as she drifted into space in the following day's English lecture. That.. And another thing.

Fuck.

She was not supposed to feel like this. What the hell did I do? What would Blake do?

Weiss was restless for the whole day, incessantly tapping her feet and answering questions only because she was annoyed that said questions were breaking her train of thought and she couldn't think straight at all.

As soon as the last bell rang, Weiss was ready to run out and curl up in bed forever.

Unfortunately, certain nosy people have other ideas.

Ruby, curse her track team legs, ran up to Weiss from behind, pouncing on her to prevent her escape. Though it did backfire (not that Ruby cared), causing them both to fall over.

"What are you doing, you dolt!?" Weiss screeched.

"Sorry!" Ruby giggled, not sorry in the slightest. She let go, rolling over and helping Weiss back up. "You didn't answer our messages last night!"

Weiss brushed off herself, groaning at the sight of her other friends' grinning idiot faces.

"Do you people ever stop?"

"Unfortunately not." replied Ren.

Weiss shook her head, sighing. "I used to think you were a sensible person.

"Now what do you dolts want?"

"We saw you leave the party!" said Nora.

"Early." Yang added, grinning. "Again."

"We went home." Weiss deadpanned. "Can I go?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Not a chance."

Ruby only shrugged. "Sorry, Weiss. This is a democracy."

"Democracy." Weiss rolled her eyes, leaning against a locker. She pouted, looking away from Ruby, who was trying to pull off her typical five-year-old pleading face.

Weiss kept running through thoughts about how all of this should be kept private. Whatever she and Blake did was absolutely none of their business. But then it struck her again— no. It didn't. They were not in a real relationship. Every juicy detail of their fake relationship needed to be widespread.

Oh, how confused she'd become. It was almost laughable. Level-headed Weiss Schnee couldn't discern which parts of her and Blake's relationship were real or not. Was the relationship real? It couldn't be. Yet it certainly felt real last night.

"Weiss?" Ruby called out, pulling Weiss back to reality.

"We went out to eat."

The group leaned towards Weiss expectantly, like puppies waiting to be fed. She only rolled her eyes in response.

"That's it. That's all you're getting."

Nora jabbed an accusing finger at Weiss.

"So there was more!" she yelled.

"No." Weiss snapped. "There was not. Leave me alone."

Someone cleared their throat.

All heads turned to see Blake. She had a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. Her eyes landed on Weiss.

'What are you doing here?' Weiss mouthed.

Blake snorted, walking up next to her. She snaked an arm around the shorter girl's waist, smiling casually at the rest of the group.

"Can you guys back up a bit? My girlfriend needs some space to breathe, you know."

"Girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" 

Blake rolled her eyes amusedly, tightening her grip around Weiss's waist.

"Yes. Girlfriend." she said. "Now if you'll excuse us, I'm supposed to walk her home."

"Don't worry about it then!" Yang grinned, winking supportively at her best friend. "Make sure she gets there safely, Kitty Cat."

Blake snorted, waving. "Yeah, I will. See you soon."

From there, Blake began to steer the dumbfounded, red-faced Weiss out of the building.

"Got everything you needed?" Blake asked casually.

"What was that?" Weiss hissed. "Girlfriend?"

An intense red crept up Blake's cheeks, as if waking up from a daydream. She pulled back her arm. A cold nothing grew on the small of Weiss's back. They both looked away.

"Sorry." Blake mumbled. "Did.. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"W-Well, yes, a bit. But nevermind that. Technically, that was a good move. Get this scheme moving along faster."

"O-Oh." Weiss didn't catch the twinge of hurt in Blake's tone, her own mind spinning.

"But next time warn me before you get all forward like that!" Weiss exclaimed. Then she stopped in her tracks, grimacing.

Blake watched her worriedly.

"Weiss? What's wrong?"

Weiss switched positions with Blake, so that she was on their left, as if she was hiding.

"Be discrete. He's there."

Blake searched around the parking lot as they walked. But the ridiculous amount of gel on Henry Marigold's hair was hard to miss.

Weiss instinctively linked her arm with Blake's, turning them to pass along the other side.

"Weiss!"

Drat.

Weiss twitched, wanting nothing more than to bash Henry's head against a rock and hope he never wakes up.

Then Blake pulled back her arm, placing her hand on hers. In a laughable moment of deja vu, Weiss pushed her fingers forward, intertwining their fingers.

She looked up at Blake, chills running down her spine.

'I'm here.' Blake mouthed.

"Weiss!"

Reluctantly, Weiss tore her gaze away from Blake's. Henry was running towards them, completely abandoning the band of cheerleaders near his car.

He stopped, not so smoothly, in front of the two, a wide smirk on his face.

"Weiss Schnee." he drawled, leaning on his arm against the hood of a stranger's car.

"Henry."

He glanced at Blake. He pointed at her, his finger orbiting an imaginary circle.

"Isn't.. She that girl who lived in a box?"

Just as Blake was opening her mouth, Weiss cut in.

"Blake." she snapped. "Her name is Blake."

"Right.. Didn't she transfer last year?" he eyed their hands with a raised eyebrow. "What's she doing here?"

"She came to bring me home, Henry." Weiss's grip on Blake's hand tightened. She tugged ever so slightly, ready to leave. "Now if you'll excuse us—"

"No, no, baby—"

"Baby?"

"—I was waiting by my car for you the whole time!" he exclaimed, squaring his shoulders. He ran a finger through his hair, stepping forward towards Weiss. "Thought we could talk. Y'know.. Some.. Stuff."

He was playing attention to Blake, Weiss noted. He wasn't nonchalant about her presence like he was with everyone else. He almost looked..

"Worried, Henry?" Weiss asked.

"What?"

Weiss looked him up and down, a slow, giddy smirk creeping to her lips.

He saw the pictures.

She relaxed, smiling politely. Though after that sly expression she pulled earlier, Henry had to admit it looked almost eerie now.

"Sorry, Henry." she grinned, placing a hand on Blake's arm. "I don't think my girlfriend would rest so easy if you brought me home. Especially after walking all the way from her school."

"Girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?"

Henry was too dumbfounded to notice Blake's expression. But he frowned, his mood turning bitter rather fast. He tugged the collars on his rust-colored jacket.

"Didn't take you for a dyke, Schnee." he sneered. "What a waste."

Blake stepped in front of him. She was stiff. Somewhat calm. But her seething amber eyes told another story.

"Take that back. And walk away."

"Or what?"

He glared at Blake, leaning forward to make himself seem much taller.

Weiss could feel the chill in Blake's hand. It turned cold with icy fear. But Blake let go, curling her hands into fists around Henry's collar. She pulled him towards her harshly.

"Or I'll make you." she growled.

Weiss placed a hand on Blake's shoulder.

"Blake." she said softly.

After what looked like reluctance, Blake pushed Henry away.

He ran and never looked back, once again ignoring the cheerleaders near his car.

Blake glared after him until he was out of view. Until she felt Weiss's fingers lace between hers. She sighed, turning to Weiss with an apologetic look.

Weiss smiled, shrugging.

"At least, he won't be bothering us anymore, huh?"

"Was I that bad?" Blake winced.

Without thinking, Weiss tucked a loose strand of hair behind Blake's ear, blushing once she realized what she was doing. But she played it off easily.

"I wouldn't call it bad."

"Adam.." Blake sighed. "He used to do that thing. Lean forward. Intimidate me. Make me feel small."

"Blake.."

Blake laughed, gently brushing her fingers along Weiss's cheeks.

"It felt good to stand up to someone for a change."

Weiss laughed.

"Yeah, it did."

———

i'll sequel this too lmao. that'll be the last one, i swear

— ari

———

part one | part two | part three | part four