#kpop

[fairytopea]

ᓭི༏ᓯྀ ˖ ࣪ . pink sunset •̩̩͙ ⋆ ♡

[swhore]

ㅤㅤू✿ㅤㅤ◞◟ ͜ ◞ㅤㅤ🗡️ㅤㅤInㅤtheㅤEndㅤ ༘

ㅤㅤㅤㅤWeㅤwillㅤMeetㅤagainㅤ,ㅤMyㅤDear ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ︶ ͝ ༷ ♥ᣟ݂ㅤㅤㅤ†ㅤㅤㅤ︵🌸ㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤ ㅤ

[elryuse]

Her Latest Addiction Pt. 2

Ryujin X Male Reader

Tags : Desk Sex, Sex in Classroom, Public Place Sex, Lots of Dirty Talking, Kissing, Naughty Activities

Words : 3,306 Words

A Continuation From the Previous Story HER LATEST ADDICTION. A Commision Work for My friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I Hope You Guys enjoyed it.

The moment Ryujin walked into your office, the air thickened with tension. Her hips swayed with that familiar confidence, her lips curled into a sly smirk as she shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, arms crossed, her eyes immediately dropping to the bulge in your pants. “You really couldn’t wait, could you?” she teased, her voice low and dripping with mischief.

“You’ve been on my mind all day,” you admitted, your voice rougher than usual. You stood from your desk, the picture of authority in your crisp button-up and tie, but the way you looked at her betrayed the composure you were known for. Your gaze was hungry, and she loved it.

Ryujin sauntered over, her fingers trailing along the edge of your desk as she approached. “And what exactly did you have in mind, Mr. Student Body President?” she purred, stopping just inches away from you. Her scent—vanilla and something darker, more addictive—filled your senses.

Your hands found her waist, pulling her closer. “You,” you growled, your lips brushing against her ear. “I want you right here, right now. I don’t care who hears.”

She let out a soft laugh, her breath warm against your neck. “And here I thought you were the responsible one.” But her hands were already working on the buttons of your shirt, her fingers deft and impatient. “I guess I’m a bad influence.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, your hands sliding up her sides to the hem of her top. You tugged it off in one fluid motion, revealing the black lace bra underneath. Her skin was warm against your palms as you traced the curve of her waist, your lips finding the hollow of her throat.

Ryujin tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in your hair as you kissed your way down to her collarbone. “You’re going to ruin your perfect image,” she whispered, though her voice was already shaky with desire.

“Fuck my image,” you growled, lifting her effortlessly and setting her down on the edge of your desk. Papers scattered to the floor, but neither of you cared. Your hands were already on her waistband, undoing the button and sliding her skirt down her legs. She kicked it aside, her legs wrapping around your waist as you stepped between them.

Her hands were on your belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. “You’re so impatient,” she teased, her fingers brushing against the hardness straining against your zipper. “I like it.”

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, your lips crashed into hers, stealing her breath as you pushed her bra straps down her shoulders. She let out a soft moan as your hands cupped her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured against her lips, your hands roaming over her body as if you couldn’t get enough of her. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” She smirked, her fingers finally freeing you from the confines of your pants. Her hand wrapped around you, her grip firm and confident as she leaned back slightly, her eyes locked on yours. “But I love hearing you say it.”

You groaned as her hand moved, her thumb brushing over the tip in a way that made your knees weak. “Ryujin,” you warned, your voice strained. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to last.”

“Good.” Her grin was wicked as she slid off the desk, her knees hitting the floor. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Her lips wrapped around you, and you had to grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Her mouth was warm, wet, and fucking perfect, her tongue swirling around you in a way that made it impossible to think. “Jesus, Ryujin,” you muttered, your fingers tangling in her hair as she took you deeper.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. Her hands gripped your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she moved with a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless. You could feel the pressure building, your entire body tensing as she worked you closer and closer to the edge.

“Ryujin, I’m—” You tried to pull back, but her grip tightened, her mouth refusing to let you go. And then you were coming, your release spilling down her throat as she swallowed every drop.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with satisfaction. “You taste so good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of your hips. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, she was pulling you down to the floor with her, her hands already working to get you hard again. And when she straddled you, her body pressed against yours, you knew there was no stopping her. “Ryujin,” you groaned, your hands gripping her hips as she positioned herself above you.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips brushing against yours. “I’ll take care of you.”

And she did. Her body moved with a rhythm that was both wild and perfect, her hips grinding against yours in a way that made you forget everything but the feel of her. The sounds she made—soft moans and gasps—were music to your ears, and you couldn’t help but match her pace, your hands roaming over her body as if you couldn’t get enough of her.

But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Sitting up, you flipped her onto her back, your lips finding hers as you thrust into her with a desperation that surprised even you. “Ryujin,” you growled against her lips, your hands gripping her wrists as you pinned them above her head. “You’re mine.”

Her response was a moan, her legs wrapping around your waist as she moved with you, her body pulling you deeper. “Yours,” she whispered, her voice breaking as the tension in her body reached its peak. “Yours, yours, yours.”

And when she came, her body trembling beneath you, you followed right after, your release spilling into her as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. The room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air.

“So much for your perfect image,” Ryujin murmured, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

You chuckled, your lips brushing against her shoulder. “It was worth it.”

The air in the student council meeting room was thick with tension, the kind that made it hard to breathe without your thoughts spiraling. Ryujin stood in the doorway, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes locked on you with that look. The one that always meant trouble.

“You’re really going to do this?” you asked, keeping your voice low, though the room was empty.

She smirked, stepping closer, her hips swaying with every step. “Why not? You’re always so perfect in here, Mr. President. I think it’s time you let loose.” Her hand reached for the hem of her skirt, and in one swift motion, she slid her panties down her legs and dangled them in front of you. Before you could react, she stuffed them into your mouth, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Quiet now,” she whispered, her fingers trailing up your chest. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, would we?”

You pulled the fabric from your mouth, your heart pounding as she backed away, her finger curling in a come-hither gesture. She stepped into the room, her movements slow and deliberate, her skirt riding dangerously high on her thighs.

The door clicked shut behind you, and in an instant, you were on her. Your hands gripped her waist, spinning her around and slamming her against the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, the sound of them fluttering like the erratic beat of your heart.

Ryujin let out a gasp, her hands bracing against the desk as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Someone’s eager,” she teased, her voice breathless.

“You started this,” you growled, your hands sliding up her thighs and beneath her skirt. She was already wet, her body responding to the thrill of the moment.

You unzipped your pants, freeing yourself, and without hesitation, you thrust into her. Ryujin’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into the edge of the desk as you moved inside her. Her moans were soft at first, stifled by the fear of being caught, but as you picked up the pace, they grew louder, more desperate.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “Someone might hear you.”

She bit her lip, her body trembling as you pushed deeper, your hips slamming against hers with a rhythm that left her gasping. “Fuck,” she breathed, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop.”

You didn’t. Your hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as you drove into her, each thrust more intense than the last. The desk creaked beneath the weight of your movements, the sound mingling with the soft slap of skin on skin.

Ryujin’s head dropped forward, her hair falling over her face as she moaned, her body tightening around you. “I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “So close.”

You reached around, your fingers finding her clit, and her body jerked in response. Her moans grew louder, her back arching as she came, her release washing over her in waves. You followed right after, your own climax crashing over you as you buried yourself in her, your release spilling inside her.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, heavy and ragged. Ryujin leaned back against you, her body still trembling. “I think you just set a new record,” she murmured, a sly smile playing on her lips.

You chuckled, your hands resting on her hips as you caught your breath. “And I think you just ruined any chance of me ever holding another meeting in here.”

She turned to face you, her fingers trailing up your chest. “Good,” she said, her eyes meeting yours. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so perfect all the time.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers. “Perfect is overrated.”

Ryujin smiled, her hands sliding around your neck as she pressed her body against yours. “Then let’s see how much more trouble we can get into.”

Her lips met yours, the kiss deep and hungry, and you knew there was no turning back. The student council room would never be the same, and neither would you.

As you pulled away, Ryujin reached for her panties, still stuffed in your pocket, and slipped them back on with a mischievous grin. “Let’s see if anyone notices,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.

She winked, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “And you love it.”

Ryujin turned and walked toward the door, her hips swaying with every step. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and looked back at you. “See you later, Mr. President,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Then she was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, your heart still racing and your thoughts a mess. You glanced at the desk, the scattered papers, and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

“She’s going to be the death of me,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly zipped up your pants, straightening your shirt. Just as the door opened, you were back in your chair, pretending to read through a stack of papers.

One of the council members poked their head in, their eyes scanning the room. “Everything okay in here? I thought I heard something.”

You looked up, your face calm and composed. “Everything’s fine,” you said, your voice steady. “Just working on some plans for the next meeting.”

They nodded, seemingly satisfied, and closed the door behind them. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, running a hand through your hair.

“Messy,” you muttered, shaking your head. But somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

As you gathered the scattered papers and straightened the room, your mind kept drifting back to Ryujin, her smile, her touch, the way she always managed to pull you out of your carefully constructed shell.

“She’s trouble,” you said to yourself, though the words felt more like a compliment than a warning.

And deep down, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The weeks that followed were a blur of stolen moments and shared secrets. Ryujin and You had found a rhythm, a balance between her wildness and Your responsibilities. She was still the bad girl on campus, the one who turned heads and whispered rumors, but now, You were the one she whispered to. And I was the one who could make her fall apart.

It was the day of the campus speech, the one You'd been rehearsing for weeks. The student body was gathered in the auditorium, a sea of faces watching as You stood at the podium, adjusting the microphone. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there she was, leaning against the wall at the back, her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. She’d promised to behave, but You knew better. Ryujin never behaved.

You cleared your throat, starting Your speech with the confidence of someone who’d done this a hundred times before. But today, You had a little surprise. Your hand slipped into my pocket, brushing against the small remote Youd’d hidden there. It was a gamble, a risky move, but with Ryujin, everything was a gamble.

As You spoke about unity and progress, You slowly pressed the button, watching her reaction from the corner of my eye. Her smirk faltered for a moment, her eyes widening slightly before she regained her composure. But You could see the way her body tensed, the way her fingers dug into her arms as she fought to keep still.

You continued the speech, Your voice steady even as Your heart raced. Every so often, You’d press the button again, marveling at the way she squirmed, the way her breath hitched. She was trying so hard to stay in control, but You could see the struggle in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly as she bit back a moan.

When You finally wrapped it up with a call to action, the room erupted in applause. You smiled, thanking the crowd, but Your focus was solely on her. She was still leaning against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks flushed. You could see the desire in her eyes, the way she looked at You like You were her everything.

As You stepped down from the stage, You made my way through the crowd, Your eyes never leaving hers. People congratulated You, patted You on the back, but You barely noticed. All You could think about was her, the way she’d looked at You, the way she’d been on the edge because of You.

When You finally reached her, she was waiting, her eyes dark with promise. She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. “You’re going to pay for that,” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

You smirked, Your hand brushing against hers as You led her away from the crowd. “I can’t wait,” You replied filled with anticipation.

The hallway was empty, the sound of our footsteps echoing as You pulled her into a nearby classroom, locking the door behind us. She was already on me, her hands fumbling with my tie, her breath hot against my neck.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she growled, her teeth grazing Your skin.

You let out a low chuckle, Your hands sliding down her back to grab her ass, pulling her closer. “It’s not about being clever,” I murmured, Your lips brushing against hers. “It’s about knowing what you need.”

She kissed You hard, her tongue demanding, her hands pulling at Your shirt. You could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her body trembled with need. You broke the kiss, stepping back slightly to look at her, As Your fingers tracing the outline of her jaw.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” You said, my voice rough with desire. “But now, it’s my turn.”

You reached into my pocket, pulling out the remote and holding it up. Her eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and frustration as she realized what You were about to do. You pressed the button, watching as her body jerked, a gasp escaping her lips.

“You’re going to break me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

You smiled, stepping closer, Your free hand sliding under her skirt to find the soaked fabric of her panties. “Not yet,” I murmured, Your lips brushing against her ear. “But I’m close.”

She moaned softly, her hips rolling against Your hand as You continued to torment her with the vibrator. You could feel her wetness through the fabric, the way her body responded to Your touch. You pressed another button, increasing the intensity, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

“You’re going to cum for me, Ryujin,” You whispered, Your voice filled with promise. “Right here, right now.”

She nodded, her hands clutching at Your shirt as she ground against You. You could see the tension building in her body, the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps. And then, with a final press of the button, she shattered, her body convulsing as she cried out, her nails digging into Your skin.

You held her as she came down, her body trembling with aftershocks. She looked up at You, her eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips.

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And yet, you love it.”

She leaned into You, her lips brushing against Yours. “I do,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”

She smirked, her hands sliding down to undo Your belt. “You’ve had your fun,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Now it’s my turn.”

You groaned as she dropped to her knees, her hands tugging at Your pants.You could feel the heat of her breath against my skin, the anticipation building as she looked up at You with those dark, beautiful eyes of hers. And not long after that, Ryujin immediately places Your Cock onto her warm mouth. It was warm, fuzzly and cozy. "Fuckk me… Your mouth feels amazing….". She smirked, as She gobbles Your My cock faster, as she tried her best to give Me a Deepthroat. The sight was breathtaking, as She choked a little bit, making you chuckle.

"Slow down.. I'm Not Gonna Leave You. You know that Right"? You smiled at her, as You slowly traces your hands onto her hair. Ryujin in return blushes, as she takes your hand and brushes it playfully with her own. "Kiss me Y/n…". And so you did. You kissed her passionately, as You slowly lift her up. You slowly remove her clothes, revealing her fit and petite body, as you slowly traces your hand and remove her panties slowly, As you finally finished, You take her panties and slowly places it inside her mouth, "Open your mouth".

Ryujin slowly opened her mouth, as She took her own panties, and Cupped it within her mouth. As you saw the vibrator patch sticking into the sides of her pussy, You slowly remove the tape, making her moan in shock. "Mhmmm". As you chuckled. "Oh Ryujin-ah, You'll be The death of me".

[domm1etae]

imagine wooyoung standing in front of you, water dripping down his abs from the shower you’d just shared, his cock already hard and heavy in his hand as he smirks down at you. his free hand grips your jaw, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, urging you to open wider.

"look at you," he says, his voice low and teasing. "always so eager for me. this what you’ve been thinking about, huh? having my cock in your pretty little mouth?"

you nod, tongue flicking out to brush against the tip, catching the salty bead of pre-cum that’s already dripping from him. "yes, please, woo," you whisper, your voice shaky but desperate. "want you to use my mouth—want you to fuck my throat until i’m crying."

his grin turns wicked as he lazily strokes himself, letting the swollen head glide against your lips, smearing the slickness all over your mouth. "you’re so filthy," he mutters, his tone dripping with approval. "my filthy little thing. you sure you can handle it, baby? you’re already shaking."

"please," you beg, your hands gripping his thighs for support as you lean closer, lips parting further in anticipation. "need it, woo. want to make you feel good."

"yeah? want me to ruin you, huh?" he hums, his cock slapping against your cheeks before he guides it back to your lips. "open wider, baby. don’t hold back now."

you obey instantly, letting your mouth fall open as he slides in slowly, the stretch making your eyes water as he sinks deeper, filling your throat inch by inch. his groan is guttural, his hips bucking slightly as you gag around him, the sound only spurring him on.

"fuck," he rasps, his head falling back as his fingers tangle in your hair, holding you in place. "look at you, taking me so well. such a good girl for me."

your nails dig into his thighs as he sets a rhythm, thrusting into your mouth with increasing intensity. the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking your throat fill the room, mixed with his breathless groans and your muffled moans.

"shit, you’re perfect," he growls, his voice shaky as he pulls out just enough to let you breathe, only to push back in, deeper this time. "gonna make me cum so fast like this, baby. you feel so fucking good."

you hum around him, your tongue swirling around his length as he hits the back of your throat again, your eyes locked on his as tears stream down your cheeks. his hips stutter, his grip tightening in your hair as he finally spills, hot and thick down your throat, his groans echoing in your ears.

he pulls out slowly, his hand caressing your cheek as you gasp for air, a satisfied smile on his face as he watches you swallow every drop. "always knew you were made for me," he murmurs, his thumb tracing over your swollen lips with a possessive touch. "my sweet, filthy girl."

[sugarish]

　 🍏🍎 ᭢ ˳ ˳. baked apple pie ░✿ ꦿ ˙ ॱ⋅

[c-ollie]

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗂𝗇⠀⠀ 𝗍𝗁𝖾⠀⠀ 𝕯𝐀𝐑𝐊⠀⠀ 𝗂 ⠀⠀𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗐.

[yeritos]

　⊹　 ʕ´ ᩙ `  ʔ　˚　Never　Be　Yours　♬ ♡

[ncity-agere]

he’s just the cutest, ain’t he?

little jongho smile appreciation post!!

[elryuse]

불장난 Playing With Fire

Yuna X Male Reader

Tags : Ex Girlfriend Yuna, Teasing, Kissing, Pretty Toxic And Slightly Weird Romance, Fluff, Pregnant? Marriage?

Words : 8,557 Words

You always thought the first time you met Yuna would be burned into your memory forever. The sparkle in her eyes, the way her laugh could fill a room, and how effortlessly she made you feel like the only person in the world. That was before. Before the lies, the heartbreak, and the shattered trust. Now, every memory of her feels distant, like a faded photograph buried in the back of your mind. You’ve tried to move on, to live your life without the weight of her betrayal pressing down on your chest.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

It’s an ordinary evening when you see her again. The streets are busy with the hum of traffic, and the golden glow of the setting sun reflects off car windows. You’re standing at the corner, waiting for the light to change, when you catch a flash of fiery red out of the corner of your eye. You glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

It’s her. Yuna.

Only, it’s not the Yuna you remember. Gone is the soft brown hair that used to fall in gentle waves down her shoulders. Now, her hair is a striking, fiery red, cut shorter, framing her face with an edge that screams confidence. Her figure, once curvier, is now more toned and petite, as if she’s carved herself into something entirely new. She’s wearing a leather jacket over a simple black dress, and her boots click sharply against the pavement as she crosses the street.

Your instinct is to look away, to pretend you didn’t see her. After everything that happened, the last thing you want is to reopen old wounds. But then, her eyes meet yours, and you know it’s too late.

“...Y/n?” she says, her voice softer than you expect.

You hesitate, debating whether to respond. “Yuna,” you finally say, your tone neutral, guarded.

Her lips curve into a small smile, but there’s something behind it—something you can’t quite place. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d run into you here,” she says, stepping closer.

You take a step back without meaning to, creating just enough distance to feel like you’re still in control. “It’s a big city,” you reply. “I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

She tilts her head, studying you like you’re some puzzle she can’t quite figure out. “You look good,” she says, her eyes scanning you briefly. “Different, but… good.”

You resist the urge to scoff. “Thanks,” you say curtly. “You, too. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

She grins, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Yeah, the hair’s new. And I’ve been working out more. Needed a fresh start, you know?”

You nod, though you don’t really know what to say to that. The light changes, and the crowd around you begins to move. You take a step toward the crosswalk, hoping she’ll take the hint and let you go.

“Y/n, wait,” she says, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back instinctively. Her smile falters for a moment, but she recovers quickly. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say firmly. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“Come on,” she says, her voice almost pleading. “It’s been, what, a year? Can’t we just… I don’t know, catch up? As friends?”

Friends. The word feels bitter on your tongue. You shake your head. “We were never just friends, Yuna. You know that.”

Her expression softens, and for a moment, she looks like the Yuna you used to know—the one who could make you smile no matter how bad your day had been. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “For everything. I know I screwed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I miss you, Y/n. I miss us.”

You feel your chest tighten, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. “You don’t get to say that,” you say, your voice low but firm. “You don’t get to miss us when you were the one who destroyed it.”

She flinches, and for a brief moment, you think you see tears glistening in her eyes. But then she straightens, her fiery hair catching the last rays of sunlight. “You’re right,” she says, her voice steadier now. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’ve changed, Y/n. I’m not the same person I was back then.”

You want to believe her. A part of you—some small, foolish part—still wants to believe that the girl you fell in love with is still in there somewhere. But you can’t forget the pain she caused, the way she broke your heart and left you to pick up the pieces on your own.

“I’m glad you’ve changed,” you say finally. “But that doesn’t change what happened. And it doesn’t mean we can go back to the way things were.”

She nods slowly, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I get it,” she says. “I just… I just wanted to see you. To tell you I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Finally, you sigh and take a step back. “Take care of yourself, Yuna.”

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there on the sidewalk. As you disappear into the crowd, you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the last time you’ll see her.

And deep down, you’re not sure if that thought scares you—or excites you.

The knock on your door is sudden, sharp, and entirely unexpected. You freeze mid-sip of your morning coffee, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of your apartment like a knife. Three rapid raps, followed by silence. Your eyes dart to the clock on the wall—it’s barely 8 AM. Who the hell could that be?

Setting your mug down cautiously, you make your way to the door, peeking through the peephole before opening it. And there she is: Yuna.

Your ex-girlfriend. The woman who shattered your heart into a thousand irreparable pieces years ago. She stands there, radiant as ever, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight, her lips curved into that familiar smirk that used to make your stomach flip. Now, all it does is twist into knots.

“Hey,” she says casually, as if it’s totally normal for her to show up at your doorstep after all this time. “Long time no see.”

You blink, stunned into silence. Of all the people you thought might show up unannounced at your door this early in the morning, Yuna was not on the list. “What are you doing here?” you finally manage, your voice more curt than you intended.

She shrugs, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe like she owns the place. “I live next door now. Figured I’d come say hi.” Her tone is light, almost playful, but there’s something in her eyes—something burning, intense, calculated. It makes your skin prickle.

“You live… next door?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. This has to be some kind of joke. Or a nightmare. Either way, you don’t like it.

“Mhm,” she hums, nodding. She steps past you into your apartment without waiting for an invitation, her floral perfume lingering in the air as she moves. It’s the same scent she always wore when you were together, and it hits you like a punch to the gut. “Saw your name on the mailbox the other day. Small world, huh?”

“Small world, my ass,” you mutter under your breath, closing the door behind her reluctantly. “This isn’t a coincidence, Yuna. What are you really doing here?”

She turns to face you, her expression softening as she takes a step closer. “I told you. I’m your neighbor now. And… maybe I wanted to see you. Is that so bad?”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, creating a barrier between the two of you. “Yeah, actually. It is. We haven’t spoken in years. Not since—” You cut yourself off, the memory of what she did still raw, even after all this time.

Her smile falters, and for a moment, she looks genuinely remorseful. “I know, Y/n. I know I hurt you. I was stupid, selfish, and I regretted it the second it happened. You have no idea how much I’ve beat myself up over it.”

“Not enough, apparently,” you snap, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “If you had any respect for me, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

She flinches at that, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. But then she squares her shoulders and meets your gaze head-on. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. And I know you probably hate me, and maybe you should, but… I needed to try. To see if there’s any chance we could start over.”

You stare at her, your mind racing. Start over? After everything? She can’t possibly be serious. And yet, the look in her eyes tells you she is. Dead serious.

“Yuna,” you say slowly, picking your words carefully. “We’re not the same people we were back then. And even if we were, what you did… that’s not something you just ‘start over’ from.”

She nods, swallowing hard. “I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. But… can we at least try to be civil? As neighbors? Maybe even… friends?”

The word hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. Friends. Yeah, right. Friends don’t do what she did. Friends don’t destroy trust the way she did. And yet, looking at her now, with her wide, pleading eyes and perfectly pouty lips, it’s hard to stay mad. Harder than you want to admit.

“I don’t know, Yuna,” you say finally, sighing. “This is… a lot.”

“I get it,” she says quickly. “And I’ll give you all the space you need. But just… promise me you’ll think about it, okay? Think about us.”

Before you can respond, she steps forward, closing the distance between you. For a second, you think she’s going to kiss you—and part of you wants her to, despite everything. But instead, she simply brushes her fingers lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Then she’s gone, slipping out the door as quickly as she came, leaving you standing there, confused, annoyed, and—damn it—curious.

Over the next few days, Yuna becomes impossible to ignore. Every time you leave your apartment, she’s there, whether it’s in the hallway, by the elevator, or even at the gym. She’s always polite, always friendly, but there’s an underlying tension that neither of you acknowledges. A tension that grows thicker with each passing day.

Tonight, though, she crosses a line.

You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when she knocks on your door again, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a coy smile on her face. “Hi,” she says sweetly. “Thought you might want some company tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, holding the spatula in your hand like a weapon. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” she replies, pushing past you into the kitchen. “Smells amazing, by the way. What are we having?”

“Steak,” you say automatically before catching yourself. “Wait, no. I’m having steak. You’re interrupting my dinner.”

She grins, setting the wine bottle on the counter and grabbing a corkscrew from the drawer like she belongs here. “Oh, come on. You can’t eat all that by yourself. Besides, we need to talk.”

“About what?” you ask warily, watching as she expertly uncorks the bottle and pours two glasses.

She hands you one, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that feels far too intentional. “About us. About… what happens next.”

You take a sip of the wine, mostly to buy yourself time to think. “There is no ‘us,’ Yuna. Not anymore.”

She leans against the counter, her body language relaxed but her eyes intense. “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s always been an ‘us.’ Even when we weren’t together, even when I screwed everything up… there was always something between us. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words stick in your throat because… god damn it, she’s right. There is something between you. Something electric, magnetic, undeniable. And it’s been there from the moment she showed up at your door.

But you can’t let her know that. Not yet.

Instead, you set your wine glass down and turn back to the stove, flipping the steak with more force than necessary. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Yuna.”

She laughs softly, the sound low and sultry. “Maybe. But you’ve always liked danger, remember?”

Your grip tightens on the spatula. Remember? How could you forget? She’s reminding you on purpose, and it’s working. Memories flood your mind—her hands on your skin, her lips on yours, the way she used to whisper your name in the dark.

“Dinner’s ready,” you say abruptly, plating the steak and handing her a plate. If nothing else, maybe eating will shut her up.

But as the two of you sit down at the table, the tension only grows thicker. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shared laugh sends sparks flying. By the time you finish eating, the air between you is charged, crackling with unspoken desire.

“Thanks for dinner,” Yuna says, standing up and moving closer to you. “It was… delicious.”

She’s not talking about the food, and you both know it.

You stand too, your heart pounding in your chest as she reaches out, her fingertips grazing your jawline. “Yuna,” you warn, your voice husky.

“Yes?” she whispers, her lips dangerously close to yours.

“Don’t—”

But before you can finish, she closes the gap, her mouth crashing into yours like a tidal wave.

And just like that, you’re lost.

Her lips are warm, insistent, and achingly familiar. The moment she kisses you, a flood of memories rushes back—late nights tangled in sheets, whispered promises, the way her body fit perfectly against yours. But this isn’t that time. This is now, and despite everything, your body betrays you. Your hands instinctively move to her waist, pulling her closer as if they have a mind of their own.

Yuna deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. A soft moan escapes her throat, muffled by the heat of your mouths colliding. Her fingers weave through your hair, tugging gently but firmly, sending a shiver down your spine. She pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, her breath hot and uneven, “I’ve missed you.”

The words hang in the air like a confession, raw and unfiltered. You want to push her away, to remind yourself of why you shouldn’t be doing this, but her touch is magnetic, her presence intoxicating. Your resolve wavers, crumbling under the weight of her longing.

Her hands slide down your chest, fingertips tracing the contours of your muscles through your shirt. They pause at the hem, slipping beneath the fabric, skin meeting skin for the first time in what feels like forever. Her touch ignites something deep within you, a hunger you thought you’d buried long ago.

“Yuna,” you murmur, your voice rough with desire, “this isn’t—”

She silences you with another kiss, harder this time, more desperate. Her nails dig lightly into your sides, leaving tingling trails in their wake. When she finally breaks away, her eyes lock onto yours, blazing with something you can’t quite place—need, remorse, or maybe both. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” she breathes, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before you can respond, she sinks to her knees, her hands moving to the button of your jeans. Your heart pounds in your chest, the sound deafening in the quiet room. This is wrong, a small voice in the back of your mind whispers, but it’s drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the way her fingers work deftly to free you from the confines of your clothing.

Her breath hitches as she takes you in, her gaze lingering for a moment before she leans forward, her lips brushing against the tip of you. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, your hips jerking involuntarily. She smirks up at you, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Still sensitive, huh?” she teases, her voice low and husky.

You don’t have time to respond before she takes you fully into her mouth, her tongue swirling around your length with practiced ease. A groan escapes your lips, your hands tangling in her hair as she moves with a rhythm that leaves you dizzy. Her name falls from your lips like a prayer, barely audible over the sound of her sucking you deeper, harder.

She pulls back momentarily, looking up at you through hooded lids. “Do you remember how much you used to love this?” she asks, her voice dripping with sultry anticipation. Before you can answer, she’s swallowing you again, her lips pressing tightly around you as she works her way down your shaft.

Your knees buckle slightly, the sensation overwhelming. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she bobs her head, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The wet sounds fill the room, mingling with her soft sighs and your ragged breaths. It’s messy, desperate, and utterly consuming.

As her pace quickens, so does the ache building in your core. You’re close, too close, and the realization makes your grip on her hair tighten. “Yuna, I—”

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down. Instead, she hums around you, the vibrations making your entire body shudder. Her eyes meet yours again, and there’s a challenge in them, daring you to let go. And you do, unable to hold back any longer.

With a strangled groan, you release, her name tumbling from your lips as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. She takes it all, her tongue lapping at you greedily until you’re completely spent, your legs trembling beneath you.

When she finally pulls away, there’s a hint of mischief in her smile, along with something softer, more vulnerable. She stands slowly, her hands resting lightly on your hips as she looks up at you. “You always did taste so good,” she murmurs, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You’re still catching your breath, your mind reeling from what just happened. There’s a part of you that wants to pull her into your arms, to feel her warmth against you. But there’s also a part that feels conflicted, torn between the past and the present, between what you feel and what you know you should do.

Yuna seems to sense your hesitation. She steps closer, her body pressing against yours, her lips brushing against your neck. “I meant what I said,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I’ve missed you. More than you could ever know.”

You swallow hard, your hands hovering at her sides, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. “Yuna".

She leans back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes searching yours. “Don’t think too much about it,” she says softly. “Just… let me make you feel good. Like I used to.”

Her hands slide up your chest, pushing your shirt off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her touch is gentle, almost reverent, as she traces the lines of your body. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” she admits, her voice filled with awe.

Before you can respond, she’s leading you toward the couch, her movements confident yet tender. She pushes you down gently, then straddles your lap, her thighs squeezing your hips as she leans in to kiss you again. Her lips are softer this time, more deliberate, as if she’s savoring every second.

You find your hands moving without conscious thought, gripping her waist, sliding up her back, exploring every inch of her. She lets out a soft sigh, arching into your touch, her body molding against yours like it was made to fit there.

“Tell me you want this,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice trembling with need. “Tell me you want me.”

Your heart races, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But when her hand slips between your bodies, her fingers brushing against the growing heat between her legs, your resolve crumbles completely.

You can’t find the words to respond. Not when her body is pressed so tightly against yours, not when her hand is moving with such purpose, igniting a fire deep within you that you swore had been extinguished long ago. Instead, you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping her hips as if holding onto them will keep you from losing yourself completely.

Yuna doesn’t wait for an answer. She doesn’t need one. The way your body responds to her touch—the way you instinctively pull her closer—tells her everything she needs to know. Her lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses that make your head spin. Each kiss is deliberate, each move calculated to unravel you further.

Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, brushing against the sensitive skin of your stomach. You gasp, your grip tightening on her as she lets out a soft laugh against your collarbone. There it is, you think. That sound. That laugh. It’s been so long since you’ve heard it, but it still hits you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your heart ache in ways you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Stop thinking,” Yuna murmurs, her voice low and husky. “Just feel.”

It’s easier said than done. Your mind is racing, torn between the past and the present, between anger and desire. But then her hand slips lower, her fingers wrapping around you, and all thoughts evaporate into nothingness. A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and Yuna smirks against your skin, clearly pleased with herself.

“That’s more like it,” she says, her breath hot against your ear. “Let me remind you what you’ve been missing.”

Before you can respond, she’s sinking to her knees in front of you, her hands working quickly to free you from the confines of your clothes. You barely have time to process what’s happening before her mouth is on you, warm and wet and impossible to resist. Your head falls back, a strangled groan escaping your throat as her tongue swirls around you, teasing and taunting in equal measure.

God, you’ve missed this. Missed her. The way she knows exactly how to drive you wild, the way she takes you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left but raw, unfiltered sensation. Her mouth moves expertly, drawing you deeper, her hand working in tandem to heighten every touch. You can feel the pressure building, threatening to consume you, and you force yourself to hold back, not wanting this to end too soon.

But Yuna isn’t having it. She pulls away just enough to look up at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Let go,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. “I want to hear you.”

And then she’s taking you in again, her movements faster, more urgent. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, but it’s no use. You’re powerless against her, against the way she makes you feel. Your hips buck involuntarily, and Yuna makes a soft noise of approval, encouraging you to keep going.

The tension coils tighter and tighter until you can’t take it anymore. With a cry, you come undone, your body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crash over you. Yuna doesn’t pull away, not even when you’re spent and trembling, your legs barely able to support you. Instead, she stays where she is, her lips pressing gently against your skin as if savoring the moment.

When she finally stands, there’s a look of pure satisfaction on her face. “Welcome back,” she says softly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I was starting to think I’d lost my touch.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though your mind is still reeling. “You haven’t lost anything,” you admit, your voice hoarse. “If anything, you’ve gotten better.”

Yuna grins, clearly pleased with your admission. “Practice makes perfect,” she teases, stepping closer to press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on her, and it only serves to deepen the ache inside you, the need for more.

She pulls away slowly, her hands trailing down your chest as she steps back. “Now it’s your turn,” she says, her voice dripping with promise. “Don’t worry—I’ll guide you.”

You’re about to ask what she means when she turns and walks toward your bedroom, her hips swaying with every step. The sight alone is enough to make your pulse quicken, and you follow after her without hesitation, your earlier reservations forgotten.

The room is dimly lit, the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Yuna stops at the foot of the bed, turning to face you with a look that sends a shiver down your spine. Slowly, she begins to undress, each movement deliberate, each inch of skin revealed making your mouth go dry.

When she’s fully naked, she reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Touch me,” she whispers, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Show me you remember how.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for her, your fingers skimming over her bare skin. She sighs, leaning into your touch as you explore the curves and valleys of her body, rediscovering every part of her that once felt like home. Her breath hitches when your fingers brush over her nipples, and she arches into your touch, silently urging you to continue.

You lower your head, capturing one taut peak between your lips, and she gasps, her hands tangling in your hair. Her scent surrounds you, heady and intoxicating, and you’re desperate for more. Your tongue flicks against her, eliciting another sharp intake of breath, and you can feel her pulse quickening beneath your fingertips.

“Y/n,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please…”

You know what she wants. What she needs. And you’re more than willing to give it to her.

As if on cue, the opening notes of your favorite song drift through the speakers in the corner of the room. The melody is soft and slow, filling the space with a quiet intimacy that makes the moment feel even more significant somehow. Yuna’s eyes meet yours, and there’s something in her gaze—something tender and vulnerable—that catches you off guard.

“This song,” she says, her voice shaking slightly. “It reminds me of us. Of who we used to be.”

Used to be. The words echo in your mind, stirring memories you’d tried so hard to forget. Late-night drives, stolen kisses, whispered promises of forever. All of it comes rushing back, overwhelming you with emotions you thought you’d buried long ago.

Yuna seems to sense the shift in your mood because she reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re not those people anymore,” she admits, her voice heavy with regret. “But maybe… maybe we can be something better.”

You don’t respond—you can’t. Not when your heart feels like it’s being torn in two. But then she’s guiding you toward the bed, her touch firm yet gentle, and all you can do is follow.

The sheets are cool against your skin as you lie down, your bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and heat. Yuna’s lips find yours again, her kiss slow and languid, as if she’s trying to convey everything she can’t put into words. And for the first time since she walked back into your life, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—she’s right.

Yuna’s fingers trail down your chest, her touch light but deliberate, sending shivers through your body. She pauses at the hem of her shirt, her gaze locking with yours as if silently asking for permission. You nod, barely able to form a coherent thought, and she pulls the fabric over her head, revealing herself to you in the soft glow of the bedroom.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire.

She smiles, a gentle curve of her lips that makes your heart ache. “Touch me,” she whispers, guiding your hands to her waist. Her skin is warm beneath your palms, smooth and inviting, and you feel the faint tremor of her breath as you slide your hands upward.

Her breasts fit perfectly in your hands, soft yet firm, and you thumb over her nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. She arches into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she opens them again, their intensity burning into you.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need.

You don’t. You can’t. Every part of you is drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and you lose yourself in the sensation of her skin against yours. Your fingers trace the curves of her body, exploring every inch of her with a reverent touch, as if committing her to memory all over again.

Her hands move to the waistband of your pants, her fingers deftly unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs. The cool air brushes against your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from her body. She straddles you, her thighs pressing against your hips, and you can feel the wetness between her legs as she grinds against you.

“God, I missed this,” she moans, her head tipping back as she rocks her hips against yours. “I missed you.”

You grip her hips, guiding her movements as your own arousal builds. Her breath comes in short, shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she loses herself in the rhythm. Her hands grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin just enough to leave marks, and the sting only adds to the fire coursing through your veins.

“Yuna,” you groan, your voice rough with desperation. “I need you.”

She leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. “Then take me,” she murmurs against your mouth. “Take me like you used to.”

Her words ignite something primal within you, and you flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. She lets out a surprised laugh, quickly replaced by a low moan as you press yourself against her, your length teasing her entrance.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice strained with restraint.

She nods, her eyes dark with desire. “Please,” she begs, her hips lifting to meet yours. “I need you inside me.”

You don’t need any more encouragement. With a slow, steady thrust, you enter her, both of you groaning in unison at the sensation. She’s tight, her walls clenching around you as if trying to pull you deeper, and you savor the feeling of being inside her once again.

Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as you begin to move. Each thrust is deliberate, measured, designed to draw out the pleasure for both of you. Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging gently as she gasps your name, her voice echoing in the quiet room.

“Faster,” she urges, her nails scraping down your back. “Harder.”

You oblige, increasing your pace as her pleas grow more desperate. Her hips buck against yours, meeting each thrust with equal fervor, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air. Her breaths come in short, ragged gasps, her body tightening around you as she teeters on the edge of release.

“Y/N… Y/N, I’m close,” she whimpers, her voice breaking as she clings to you. “Don’t stop—please don’t stop.”

You bury your face in the crook of her neck, your lips brushing against her skin as you whisper, “Let go, Yuna. I’ve got you.”

Her climax hits her hard, her body convulsing around you as she cries out your name. The sensation sends you over the edge, and with a final, powerful thrust, you spill yourself inside her, your vision blurring as waves of pleasure crash over you.

For several moments, neither of you moves, content to simply bask in the afterglow. Her fingers stroke your back, her touch tender and soothing, and you press a soft kiss to her shoulder before finally pulling away.

She looks up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” you reply, your hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “How could I forget?”

She smiles, though there’s a sadness in her expression that makes your chest tighten. “I wish things were different,” she says softly. “I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

“We can’t change the past,” you tell her, your fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “But maybe… maybe we can start over.”

Her eyes widen, hope flickering in their depths. “Do you mean that?”

Before you can answer, she kisses you again, her lips pouring everything she can’t say into the gesture. And as you kiss her back, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the second chance you’ve both been waiting

The kiss deepens, her fingers tangling in your hair as if she's afraid to let you go. You can feel her trembling beneath you, a mix of hope, longing, and fear coursing through her. When you finally pull away, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

"I mean it," you say softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "But if we're going to start over, things have to be different, Yuna. No secrets, no lies. We need to be honest with each other-completely."

She nods quickly, her eyes searching yours as if trying to commit every detail to memory. "I promise," she whispers. "I'll do whatever it takes to make this work, Y/n. I've lost you once, and I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

Her words tug at something deep inside you, a flicker of the love you once shared beginning to reignite. But there's still a part of you that's wary, a part that remembers the pain of betrayal and the sleepless nights spent wondering what you did wrong.

"Starting over doesn't mean forgetting," you say, your tone firm but gentle. "We both need to face what happened before we can move forward. Do you understand that?"

"I do," she says, her voice steady despite the tears welling in her eyes. "And I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious. I'll earn back your trust, Y/n, no matter how long it takes."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past hangs heavy between you, but so does the possibility of something new, something better.

"Alright," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let's try."

The relief that washes over her is palpable, and she throws her arms around you, holding you close as if you might slip away at any moment. "Thank you," she murmurs against your chest. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

As you hold her, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision. The road ahead won't be easy-rebuilding what you had will take time, patience, and an unshakable commitment from both of you. But as you feel her heart beating against yours, you realize that some risks are worth taking.

Later that night, as the two of you lie tangled together in the sheets, Yuna's head resting on your chest, she traces lav patterns on your skin with her fingertips.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asks softly, her voice laced with a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

"Sometimes," you admit. "Why?"

She shifts slightly, propping herself up on one elbow so she can look at you. "Because I want you to be in mine," she says, her eyes shimmering with sincerity. "I know it's too soon to say things like that, but. I need you to know how I feel. You're not just a second chance for me, Y/n. You're my only chance."

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you're left speechless. But as you look into her eyes, you realize that despite everything, a part of you still loves her-still wants to believe that the two of you can build something beautiful together.

Taking her hand in yours, you press a kiss to her palm and meet her gaze. "If we're going to do this, we take it one step at a time," you say. "No rushing, no expectations. Just us, figuring things out as we go."

She smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart ache in the best possible way. "I can live with that," she says.

And as you lie there together, the shadows of the past slowly fading into the background, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope—for the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t seem so uncertain after all.

The soft rays of morning sunlight stream through the curtains, painting the room in a gentle golden hue. You stretch, feeling the pleasant soreness from the night before, and glance down at Yuna, who is still curled up against you. Her fiery red hair is a mess, splayed out across the pillow, and her lips are slightly parted as she breathes softly in her sleep.

You chuckle to yourself. She looks so peaceful, almost like the Yuna you first fell in love with—before everything became complicated. Not wanting to wake her, you gently untangle yourself from her grasp and slip out of bed.

Padding to the kitchen, you open the fridge and rummage through its contents. Eggs, cheese, a few vegetables—simple but enough for a decent breakfast. As you crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk them, you can’t help but smile at the thought of her reaction.

The smell of sizzling butter and the aroma of freshly scrambled eggs mixed with melted cheese begins to fill the apartment. You chop some green onions and sprinkle them over the eggs, adding a touch of color. The satisfying sizzle echoes through the quiet space, and before long, the scent has spread to every corner of the room.

Behind you, you hear a sleepy groan, followed by the soft rustling of sheets.

“Mm… what’s that smell?” Yuna’s groggy voice floats through the air.

You glance over your shoulder to see her sitting up in bed, her hair adorably disheveled and her eyes still half-closed. She rubs at them lazily before focusing on you, a small smile spreading across her face as she watches you at the stove.

“You’re up early,” she says, her voice teasing. “And cooking? What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” you reply, flipping the eggs onto a plate. “Just thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”

She grins, propping herself up on her elbows. “You’re full of surprises, Y/n. I don’t remember you cooking much before. In fact…” She pauses, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Didn’t your cooking use to suck?”

You snort, shaking your head as you grab a couple of plates and start plating the food. “I’ve improved, believe it or not. You’d be surprised what a person can learn when they’re fending for themselves.”

“Well,” she says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up, “I guess I’ll be the judge of that.”

As she approaches the kitchen, still dressed in your oversized shirt from the night before, she leans against the counter, watching you with a playful smirk. You hand her a plate, and she raises an eyebrow as she inspects the food.

“Eggs, cheese, green onions… simple but promising,” she says, lifting a fork.

You roll your eyes. “Just eat, critic.”

She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Her expression shifts, and for a moment, you can’t tell if she’s impressed or just messing with you.

“Well?” you ask, leaning against the counter opposite her.

She swallows, placing the fork down dramatically before breaking into a grin. “Not bad, chef. Not bad at all. I’d give it a solid eight out of ten.”

“Eight?” you repeat, feigning offense. “What’s keeping me from a ten?”

She tilts her head, pretending to think. “Maybe it’s missing… love?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling as she takes another bite. “But seriously, Y/n, this is good. I guess you really have changed.”

Her words carry more weight than you expect, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere gives way to something deeper. She looks up at you, her expression softening.

“You’ve grown a lot,” she says quietly. “I can see it in the way you carry yourself, the way you take care of things. It’s… inspiring.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words, but you shrug it off casually. “Well, I had to grow up eventually.”

Yuna reaches across the counter, her fingers brushing against yours. “I’m glad I get to see this version of you,” she says softly.

You meet her gaze, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you. The past, the present, and the uncertain future all blur together, leaving only the fragile connection you’re trying to rebuild.

“Let’s just take it one day at a time,” you say, your voice steady.

She nods, her smile warm and genuine. “One day at a time.”

And as the morning sunlight fills the room, you realize that, for the first time in a long time, the day ahead doesn’t feel so daunting.

The decision to give Yuna another chance weighs heavily on your mind, like standing at the edge of a precipice. You’re fully aware of what’s at stake—your heart, your trust, and maybe even your peace of mind. But something about her feels different this time. Or maybe it’s the part of you that never stopped loving her, hoping against hope that this time, things might be different.

The two of you start slow, agreeing to rebuild your relationship step by step. Date nights become a regular thing—dinners, quiet walks in the park, or just staying in and watching movies together. Each moment feels like a cautious dance, balancing hope and fear, love and doubt.

One evening, you’re sitting on the couch with her, a bowl of popcorn between you and an old rom-com playing on the screen. Yuna leans against your shoulder, her hand resting lightly on your thigh. It’s a quiet, domestic moment, but your thoughts are anything but calm.

“Y/n,” she says softly, her voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you reply, glancing down at her.

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Do you… still think about it? What I did?”

Her question hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable. You let out a slow breath, your eyes drifting to the TV but not really seeing it.

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. “I think about it sometimes. It’s hard not to.”

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look at you. Her eyes are filled with guilt and fear, and you can see the words she wants to say but can’t quite bring herself to voice.

“But I’m trying,” you continue, meeting her gaze. “I’m trying to let go of the past. To focus on what we have now.”

Her hand tightens on your leg, and she leans into you again, her face pressed against your shoulder. “I don’t deserve this,” she whispers. “I don’t deserve you.”

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Maybe not,” you say lightly, trying to ease the tension. “But I’m giving you a chance anyway. So don’t mess it up.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, but you can feel the tension in her body start to ease. “I won’t,” she promises. “I swear, Y/n. I won’t mess this up.”

The days turn into weeks, and you begin to notice the subtle changes in Yuna. She’s more thoughtful now, more attentive. She goes out of her way to show you how much she cares, whether it’s through small gestures like cooking your favorite meals or leaving little notes for you to find throughout the day.

But there are still moments when doubt creeps in—when you catch her staring off into the distance with a troubled look or when a conversation reminds you of the cracks that once broke your relationship apart.

One night, as you’re lying in bed together, you decide to confront it head-on.

“Yuna,” you say, your voice cutting through the quiet.

She turns to face you, her eyes wide and questioning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, then pause. “Actually… I just need to ask you something.”

She nods, sitting up slightly. “What is it?”

“Why now?” you ask, your voice steady but laced with curiosity. “Why come back now, after everything?”

She takes a deep breath, her hands twisting nervously in the sheets. “Because I realized how stupid I was,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I let go of the best thing that ever happened to me, and for what? A fleeting moment of… I don’t even know what. I hated myself for hurting you, Y/n. I still do. But when I saw you again, I thought… maybe this is my chance to make it right.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, raw and unfiltered. You can see the pain in her eyes, the regret that she carries with her every day.

“I can’t promise I’ll forget,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “But I’m willing to try. As long as you’re willing to put in the effort, too.”

She nods quickly, tears brimming in her eyes. “I am. I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/n. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it.”

You reach out, cupping her face in your hands. “You don’t have to prove anything, Yuna. Just… be honest with me. Be real. That’s all I want.”

“I will,” she whispers, leaning into your touch.

As the weeks pass, you find yourself slowly letting your guard down, piece by piece. It’s not easy—trust is fragile, and the scars of the past don’t fade overnight. But with each shared laugh, each tender moment, and each promise kept, you begin to believe that maybe, just maybe, you and Yuna can make this work.

But deep down, you know you’re playing with fire. One wrong move, one misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

And yet, as you lie beside her, her head resting on your chest and her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, you can’t help but think that some risks are worth taking.

For now, you’ll take it one day at a time.

The day feels surreal, the kind of quiet that makes you question how you got here. Yuna is by your side, her arms wrapped around yours as you both walk the short distance from her apartment to yours, carrying the last of her belongings.

She giggles, the sound light and musical, and leans her head against your shoulder. "It feels strange, doesn’t it?" she says, her voice filled with warmth. "Moving in together after all this time… like we’ve come full circle."

You glance at her, your emotions a tangled web. Her hair is back to the soft brown shade you once adored, framing her face in a way that makes her look like the girl you fell for all those years ago. But she’s not the same, and neither are you. The ghosts of the past linger, no matter how much effort you both put into rebuilding what was broken.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, your grip tightening slightly on the bag you’re carrying. “It’s… strange.”

Reaching your apartment, you set the bags down by the door. Yuna takes a step inside, looking around with a contented smile. She turns to you, her arms outstretched, and pulls you into a hug.

“You’ve made this place feel like home,” she murmurs, her cheek pressed against your chest.

You hesitate for a moment before wrapping your arms around her, the familiar scent of her shampoo flooding your senses. “It’s home because you’re here now,” you say, the words sounding both true and heavy.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “I never thought I’d get this chance, Y/n. To be with you again. To… to have a family with you.”

Her hands move to her stomach, and she caresses it gently, the motion so tender it tugs at something deep within you. Your eyes follow the gesture, and for a moment, the reality of it all washes over you like a tidal wave.

A family. A future. With her.

Your gaze shifts to the wedding ring on her finger—a symbol of the promises you made, the commitment you’re trying so hard to uphold. It feels heavy, like a chain and a lifeline all at once.

Yuna notices your silence and tilts her head, her smile soft but questioning. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say after a beat, forcing a small smile. “Just… thinking about everything. About us.”

She steps closer, her hands resting on your chest as she gazes up at you. “I know it hasn’t been easy,” she says quietly. “And I know I hurt you before. But I swear, Y/n, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. To us.”

Her words are earnest, filled with a love that feels overwhelming in its intensity. You nod, though the knot in your chest remains. “I know you will.”

She smiles again, her joy infectious as she intertwines her fingers with yours. “Let’s make dinner together tonight,” she suggests, her tone light. “You can show off those cooking skills of yours again.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “Only if you promise not to criticize too much.”

“No promises,” she teases, leaning up to kiss your cheek.

As the two of you begin unpacking her belongings, the room fills with her laughter and the faint sound of music playing in the background. She moves with a lightness you haven’t seen in years, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to believe in the happiness you’re building together.

But as you watch her carefully place a photo of the two of you on the shelf—a relic from the early days of your love—you can’t shake the mixed feelings swirling in your chest.

You want this to work. You need it to work. But the scars of the past don’t fade so easily, and the weight of what you’re risking—your heart, your trust, your future—hangs heavily in the air.

Still, when Yuna looks at you with that radiant smile, her hand resting protectively over the life you’ve created together, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, you can make it work.

For now, that’s enough.

[bitchey]

⠀⠀ ▊▍ ⠀ ⠀ 🩰 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓈒 𓈒 ⠀ ⠀ ⠀.·:*¨¨*:·. ⠀

⠀⠀⠀ Nobody⠀⠀⠀Knows ⠀⠀⠀ 🐚 ⠀⠀⠀ ꯭ ꯭ ̶ ̶꯭۫ ̶ ̶ ̶

⠀⠀ ूੂ ूੂ ⠀ 🍧 ⠀⠀ ⠀ ࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚

[nicholasluvbot]

ㅤㅤI'LL LIKE YOU ✶ 보이넥스트도어

𝑓emale 𝑟eaderㅤ۶ৎㅤidol!reader & idol!bndㅤ☘️ㅤONETHOUSAND / fluff ʚɞ non established relationshipㅤ( CLiCK FOR MORE )

alternatively ───── when your fans ship the two of you together.

myung jaehyun.

jaehyun is the epitome of shy but calculating.

in front of you, he can barely string a full sentence together. he isn’t even able to look you in the eyes, his voice shaking as he blurts out, “y-you’re really talented. um—i, uh—really like your new song,” before practically sprinting away, face turning beet red.

fans live for his adorably flustered behavior, constantly making jokes like, “it’s not his fault he went to an all-boys school and has no information about the other chromosome in his database.”

but what they don’t know is how hard jaehyun works behind the scenes to fuel the ship.

he’d scroll through your instagram for hours, obsessively studying your outfit choices, your favorite colors, even the brands you wear. 

then, out of nowhere, he’s spotted wearing suspiciously similar clothes to yours, down to the tiniest details. fans, of course, catch on quickly, posting side-by-side comparisons of your photos, sending the internet into a frenzy.

when asked about it, jaehyun acts surprised, laughing nervously while scratching the back of his neck, “haha, i guess we just have similar tastes?” but inside, he’s thriving. he’s totally smug about it—he knows he’s been caught, but he’s secretly loving the attention.

when the members start teasing him, saying, “didn’t you just buy that bracelet because you saw yn wearing the same one?” jaehyun’s face turns bright red as he stutters, “n-no, i just like the design, that’s all.” sure, jaehyun... we’re all buying it.

park sungho.

sungho is a walking contradiction.

he tries so hard to act cool when the ship is mentioned, brushing it off with a shrug. “ah, fans are just having fun,” he’d say, his tone so nonchalant it almost seems convincing. but his red ears? they give him away every time.

fans live for the moments when he accidentally lets his guard down. like when someone shows him a video of you during a variety show—he’d sit there watching quietly, trying to suppress a smile, his lips twitching ever so slightly. but then jaehyun would chime in loudly, “why are you smiling so much?” causing sungho to immediately snap, “i’m not!” his voice a little too defensive as he avoids all eye contact, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

if you ever approach him at an event, though, his whole “cool guy” act crumbles. he’d stammer out a polite greeting, bowing so low and so awkwardly that his members have to stifle their laughter in the background. his hands fidget nervously, and he can barely meet your eyes.

later, when clips of the interaction inevitably surface online, fans zoom in on the way sungho sneaks lingering glances at you throughout the event. they also catch the soft, almost dreamy smile he wears whenever you’re speaking. within minutes, the clips go viral, with captions like, “bro is down bad.”

when he’s alone, though, he replays the clip of the two of you interacting like he’s preparing for a dissertation, his eyes glued to the screen as he analyzes every detail—how close you were standing, the way your voice sounded, and whether or not you smiled at him. his members tease him relentlessly about it, but sungho just mutters, “it’s not a big deal,” even though he knows he’s so far gone. 

lee riwoo.

he is so obvious it hurts.

fans catch him dancing to your songs a little too much during livestreams, his grin wide and his moves full of energy, as if he’s the biggest fan. “it’s just a catchy song!” he insists, trying to downplay it, but the way he lights up whenever your music starts playing says so much more.

his real feelings become painfully clear when you invite him to do a dance challenge together. on the outside, he’s all smiles, nodding eagerly, but on the inside? he’s screaming. internally losing it.

the moment you step into the same frame, though, his usual confidence evaporates. he stumbles over the choreography, his nerves getting the best of him, laughing awkwardly as he messes up. fans immediately notice how red he goes, and they absolutely eat it up. meanwhile, you just find him adorable, completely unaware of how flustered he is.

he’s a shy babygirl™ through and through, so whenever someone asks about it directly, he stammers, looking to his members for help like they’ll come to his rescue.

fans catch on quickly, noticing how he starts fidgeting, avoiding eye contact, or blushing whenever your name comes up in conversation. he denies being affected, always trying to play it off, but his members totally snitch on him during live streams, exposing how he practices greeting you in front of the mirror, muttering to himself, “hi, yn, i’m jaehyun, nice to meet you…” while his face turns as red as a tomato.

obvious, but too cute for words. 

han taesan.

this man is a pro at subtlety.

he doesn’t outright acknowledge the ship, but fans quickly catch on to how much effort he puts into feeding it.

during music shows and award events, he’s always in the background, staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and it's so obvious that fans can't help but point it out. whenever you’re on stage or accepting an award, he’s just there, soft smile plastered on his face, his eyes shining with pride. fans zoom in on clips of him, his gaze lingering on you, and caption them with things like, “taesan’s proud bf energy!” and the ship goes viral.

he’s definitely the type to secretly read fanfiction about the two of you..

when the members tease him about how much he lights up whenever your name comes up, he completely freezes. sungho teasingly asks, “taesan, didn’t you say you wanted to collab with yn?” and taesan, flustered and caught off guard, panic-answers, “n-no... i mean, maybe... let’s move on,” but you can tell he’s dying on the inside, trying to keep his cool. secretly, though, he’s probably rehearsing how he’d casually talk to you during the collab

he’s the type to subtly bring you up in interviews, too—“yn’s songs are great; i’ve been listening to them a lot lately”—just to see if fans catch it. and spoiler alert: they absolutely do.

kim leehan.

the definition of soft.

the first time he sees a ship edit of the two of you, his reaction is straight out of a romcom. it’s almost too cute to handle—he lets out an embarrassed laugh, his hands immediately flying up to hide his smile. “ah, fans are so funny,” he says, but his voice is so much softer than usual, and his blush? it gives him away. his ears turn red, and he’s absolutely melting inside, not knowing how to react to being the subject of such a sweet edit.

whenever he’s around you, he can't even hold a normal conversation without giggling nervously and stumbling over his words, offering compliments in the most awkward yet endearing way. and then there’s that awkward pause where he starts fidgeting, trying to salvage what little dignity he has left. but it's clear to everyone that he’s completely flustered and totally into you.

Still, fans adore how genuine and sweet he is, especially when he unknowingly matches his mood to yours—smiling when you’re happy or looking concerned when you seem tired.   

kim woonhak.

woonhak is so loud in denying the ship that it’s painfully obvious he’s head over heels in love with you.

during live streams, as soon as fans even hint at mentioning you, he immediately shouts, “no way! that’s not true!”—almost too loudly, as if trying to convince both the fans and himself. 

but behind the scenes? he’s absolutely dying. when no one’s looking, he’s re-watching every single interaction the two of you have had, replaying the moments over and over, giggling nervously and trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal, but deep down, he knows it’s everything to him.

his members absolutely love stirring the pot, casually bringing you up just to see woonhak completely flail. “didn’t you say yn’s your ideal type?” taesan asks with a smirk, clearly enjoying the chaos. woonhak's face goes red in an instant, his eyes wide as he shakes his head vigorously. “i NEVER said that!” he insists, but everyone can see the way his lips twitch into a nervous smile, the way his hands fidget. fans eat it up, capturing every moment of him flustered.

he’s definitely the type to act all cool in front of everyone, but when it comes to you? he turns into a nervous, giggly mess. 

once, he accidentally liked one of your posts while scrolling through your feed, and when fans pointed it out, he immediately went into full denial mode, spamming “NO” on weverse and trying to distract everyone by starting a random conversation about something totally unrelated. but in his mind, he's already panicking—did they see that?

even when it’s not about you directly, you can see how his mood changes whenever your name is mentioned, like his face softens a little, or he just gives a tiny smile that he tries to hide. he’s loud, energetic, but soft for you in ways that he’s too embarrassed to admit.

ㅤㅤiRAㅤ:ㅤwe all know what inspired me to write this 🤭

ㅤㅤ•ㅤㅤfeedback 🗯 reblogs ───── highly appreciated ˆᗜˆ

tags @sgz-net @kstrucknet @k-films

[silverozy]

Chapter update status: 3.90k words, 19.35% done

Amor tam pulcher | KTH - masterlist

❁pairing: senior!taehyung x junior!oc (Italian education system)

❁description: a love story revolving around a butterfly and its favourite flower

❁synopsis:

if he could, he'd write poems on how pretty she looked, on how perfect she was. He'd probably make the next Catullus or even better, he'd dare say. Everyone would love to read about her and how she makes him feel. He even wonders how she isn't loved, worshipped in fact, by everyone but he's glad he's the only one whom she hops to whenever class is dismissed, the only one to have her cheeks explore all possible shades of red, the only one whose arms she'd willingly fall asleep in between.

❁genre: romance, fluff, smut, angst

❁wc: 151.49k+

❁date: 30/03/2024

❁warning: mature content

❁notes: strangers-to-lovers, teen love story, lots of fluff, smut, senior!taehyung (taehyung is like super smart), junior!oc (academic weapon, she loves herself an excellent academic performance), a lil angst, taehyung is head over heels for oc, nature lovers (oc loves flowers, taehyung loves butterflies), countryside (looks like Italy because that is the only type of countryside I know and love), oc has a lovely family, taehyung has daddy issues, jimin and jungkook are taehyung's besties( they also have other two girls as best friends); oc has a girl best friend (childhood best friend) and three boys as best friends); oc is so fucking prettyyy, like girl pretty; cross-posted on wattpad and ao3

❁chapters (status - ongoing) ⇀ updates every Friday, midnight

latest — 17/01

❀ ❛prologue❜ - 1.52k

Rewriting the story of Daphne and Apollo ⇀ «A love that drives me crazy, a lovely crazy, a sexy crazy, an amazing crazy»

❀ 01 ❛love is all around❜ - 4.24k

On a chilly summer morning, a bouncy curly-haired sun rose up and shone above the flower

❀ 02 ❛ying yang❜ - 4.28k

Photosynthesis: the sun shines bright above the flower providing it with energy which will be transformed into nutrients

❀ 03 ❛the exploratory stage❜ - 5.48k

As the sun shines in its might, it brightens the way for a little flower to see over the horizon

❀ 04 ❛just like old times❜ - 6.70k

The bright rays of the sun show the way to the flower, introducing it to an innocent little bear, a ferret and a little wasp

❀ 05 ❛a monarch butterfly❜ - 4.17k

There, going back home, was an unusual combination of subjects: a cricket, a wing-man, a monarch butterfly, a little pika and a puppy

❀ 06 ❛venus❜ - 4.82k

Who could have ever thought that a flower could grow in space? Who? No one surely and yet... there it was, standing upright in its beauty

❀ 07 ❛a laurel❜ - 4.92k

He knew he wasn't meant to fly to space because he physically couldn't but this thought wouldn't stop him. Was he being pretentious? Trying to exceed his limits?

❀ 08 ❛fuck you!❜ - 6.10k

Normally, flowers are in people's gardens or on a bed of green grass so... what the hell is one singular one doing in the middle of the ocean. Does it know, does anyone know, that too much water will cause it harm... especially when the water is salty?

❀ 09 ❛en route❜ - 5.07k

With its six tiny feet into proper boots, a good protective shield over his wings and an astronaut helmet on, the monarch butterfly embarks on a life-threatening journey, one believed to be a one-way ticket travel

❀ 10 ❛who we are, what we do❜ - 6.01k

Flowers don't have eyes, yeah, and neither does a pika glow even during the day. The flower is used to seeing only the sun shine during the day. The little pika walking by is unusual.

❀ 11 ❛an overly ambitious hedonistic seductress❜ - 6.04k

Cleopatra is the modern definition of the term "femme fatale"; she's known for ruling in ancient Egypt but also for her relationship with Ceaser and Mark Antony

❀ 12 ❛the butterfly, the cricket and the wing-man❜ - 4.49k

A butterfly, a cricket and a wing-man all have wings somewhat. The first does fly, the second mostly leaps and the last doesn't fly unless the first two do.

❀ 13 ❛the Titanic❜ - 7.31k

Between the night of the 14th and the 15th, in 1912, one of the biggest ships of its time sank, going against the expectations but did it? At the time, there was a little competition between countries so when it sank it wasn't so surprising: something so big with very few resources would have never made it across the ocean.

❀ 14 ❛from five to ten❜ - 11.44k

Brighten the mood. Increase the energy. Make a downturned flower rise high and flunt its beautiful petals for others to see.

❀ 15 ❛bold, red and underlined❜ - 14.70k

“You know? That party I wanted to host at mine? You’re so invited. In fact, you’re the first one on my guest list and I’ll underline your name in red as in ‘in great and urgent need of pussy’—”

❀ 16 ❛«it's Daphne»❜ - 11.30k

A monarch butterfly sees a lot of flowers in its short span of life but never has this one, nor its ancestors, seen a flower as pretty as the one ahead. The flower was there, living beautifully in space.

❀ 17 ❛hesperiidae❜ - 6.41k

Right when the sun faded away and the dark clouds took over, the little butterfly's wings fluttered less as it lost hope until something caught his eye, a gleam slicing through the gloom and focusing on a flower.

❀ 18❛opposites attract❜ - 5.59k

Winter and the Wind of the West come to destroy but nothing can touch a flower when it's under a shelter, something that will prevent it from dying in the cold or losing its beautiful petals.

❀ 19 ❛peek-a-boo (boo boo)❜ - 5.66k

Things have been too unusual for this butterfly. Wasn't it trying to embark on an impossible journey? To space? How did it end up in a shiny sea? it's floating and his pupils are swelling. The beauty is indeed out of this world

❀ 20 ❛lifejacket❜ - 6.97k

The wings grew with each flutter. There was a glowing dot on the ocean and it was slowly fading out into the darkness so the butterfly cradled it and protected the leur

❀ 21 ❛monarch and blue morpho butterflies❜ - 4.13k

The weather was chilly and slightly windy. Despite the discomfort it caused everyone, the flower stood out like a thumb as it danced and waved with the soft patterns of the breeze. The butterfly couldn't do anything other than admire with widened orbs

❀ 22 ❛rosy cheeks❜ - 3.91k

Did it see it? Did the flower see the butterfly? Because the butterfly has already seen the flower. Had already memorised every curve, every line, and every dot that brought the flower to life.

❀ 23 ❛caramel macchiato❜ - 4.23k

There was no way he could ever get lost: one look at those eyes and he'd see all the constellations, the map leading him to Venus

❀ 24 ❛butterflies, flowers... and butterflies❜ - 6.03k

«I mean, it's also an evergreen plant like the Laurel but it doesn't sound as special. Lauri does though.»

❀ 25 ❛bittersweet❜ - 4.10k

There were seven lanes, each welcoming an athlete, for a total of seven athletes. Yet, as the contestants got ready for the lace, some chose to acknowledge the presence of only a few athletes, the ones they were marking. Their true competition.

❀ 26 ❛open stage❜

❀ 27 ❛approach, round out, flare❜

❀ 28 ❛a lighthouse❜

❀ 29 ❛heads or tails❜

❀ 30 ❛collywobbles❜

❀ 31 ❛the sun on the horizon❜

❀ 32

❀ 33

❀ 34

❀ 35

[i-mmaculatus]

⠀⠀⠀❀🎼⠀⠀You　and　Me⠀⠀◌ 𓈒 ꒪⬭　

　　　　　.˳ 𓋼 ˚̩̩̥͙ 　　always Forever　⠷👼🏻େ  ۫  ۪

[marsdql]

“I’m sorry, okay…”

big!back!jongseong x grumpy!reader GENRE: fluff, crack | WC: 0.7k | SNY— Jay eats the snacks you were saving.. | ft: ENHA MEMBS | heeseung verison | @aureliaaaa555 @bamgyuuu-2001

You sat on the couch, arms crossed and lips in a deep pout as Jay walked into the living room. He paused for a moment, taking in your grumpy expression, before sauntering over with that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“What’s with the face, princess?” he asked, dropping onto the couch next to you.

You turned your head away dramatically, refusing to look at him. “Don’t talk to me,” you said, your voice laced with irritation.

Jake, who had been lounging on the floor scrolling through his phone, raised an eyebrow at the exchange. “Uh-oh. What did Jay do this time?”

“He ate the last of my snacks,” you huffed, still not looking at Jay. “I was saving them, and he just… ate them like it was nothing.”

Sunghoon, sitting on the armrest of the couch, let out a loud laugh. “Classic Jay. Did you really think your snacks were safe with him around?”

Jay sighed, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t know they were the last ones. Second of all, it was an accident.”

“You don’t ‘accidentally’ eat someone’s snacks,” you shot back, finally turning to glare at him.

“You kinda do,” Niki chimed in from the floor, grinning. “But yeah, that’s on you, hyung. You don’t mess with her snacks.”

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the small grin forming on his lips. “Alright, fine. My bad. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“It’s not the same,” you grumbled, hugging a pillow to your chest.

“Here we go,” Heeseung said with a chuckle, walking into the room with a cup of coffee. “Jay, you really don’t learn, do you?”

Jay groaned. “Why are you all ganging up on me? It was just a snack!”

“It’s not just a snack!” you whined, shooting him another glare. “I was looking forward to those all day, Jay. They were my comfort snacks!”

Jake smirked, sitting up. “Comfort snacks are sacred, bro. You messed up.”

“Exactly,” you said, gesturing toward Jake as if he was the voice of reason.

Jay sighed, leaning closer to you. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, princess. How about I take you to the store, and you can pick out whatever you want?”

You stayed silent, pretending to ignore him, though the idea did sound tempting.

“Still mad, huh?” Jay said, tilting his head and flashing you a mischievous grin. “What if I throw in some ice cream? Or…” He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Maybe I’ll carry you there like the princess you are?”

At that, Sunghoon burst out laughing. “Please let him carry you. I need to see that.”

Jake snickered. “Yeah, I’ll even record it for you. Content gold.”

You tried to keep your pout, but a small laugh slipped through, and Jay’s grin widened in triumph. “There it is,” he said, poking your cheek. “You can’t stay mad at me, baby. I’m too charming.”

“Charming?” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “More like annoying.”

“Annoyingly handsome,” Jay shot back smoothly, earning a groan from Jake and Niki.

“Alright, Romeo,” Heeseung said, sitting down across from you. “Just take her to the store already. She’s clearly not going to let this go.”

Jay stood up, stretching before turning to you and holding out his hand. “Come on, let’s go. You can pick out whatever you want, and I’ll carry all the bags. Deal?”

You eyed his hand for a moment before finally taking it, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “Fine. But you owe me extra snacks for emotional damage.”

“Done,” Jay said with a grin, pulling you to your feet.

As the two of you headed toward the door, Niki called out, “Don’t forget the ice cream!”

“And carry her at least part of the way!” Sunghoon added, laughing.

Jay waved them off with a grin. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t eat her snacks while we’re gone!”

The teasing and laughter from the rest of the members followed you out the door, but you couldn’t help feeling a little better. Jay squeezed your hand as you walked, his soft smile making it hard to stay upset for long.

[lilac-dreamxxz]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cute ⠀borders⠀⠀.⠀ .⠀ ✦̲🪷

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀©⠀⠀ by ⠀ : ⠀lilac

⠀⠀

⠀.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ ᩙ

⠀⠀ᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ೃ❀࿔˙ ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ೃ❀ᮬ࿔˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ

⠀⠀⠀ ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ ི☘︎ ྀ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ

⠀ ⠀˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ . 𝄞︶ྀི˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ . 𝄞︶ྀི˳ ˳ . ⋅ ॱ ˙ ॱ ⋅ . 𝄞︶ྀི

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⠀⠀ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

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