#p1harmony hurt/comfort

[suunani]

pieces of myself ( hwang intak )

▍ intak reminds you that you’re enough as you are.

content: 1600 words, male reader, added member!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, boyfriend!intak, reader is having a breakdown, intak is the biggest sweetheart.

the dressing room was colder than usual.

the harsh overhead lights flickered softly, casting long, silent shadows across the space.

it felt like time was moving in slow motion. your breath coming out in shallow, uneven gasps as you sat at the vanity, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

you had just finished another successful concert with the boys, another night of applause, screams, and flashing cameras. but all you could hear now, in the quiet aftermath, was the pounding in your chest.

the image staring back at you wasn't really you anymore.

the stage lights had dimmed, but the hollow feeling in your chest hadn't. you had spent hours perfecting that flawless image — perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect posture. the boy the fans adored, the boy the company demanded you be.

but who was the real you?

who were you when the lights were off?

you had been suffocating for so long. the constant pressure, the weight of expectations from the fans, the industry, and — perhaps most of all — the pressure you put on yourself to meet them.

there were days when the smile you wore in front of the cameras felt like it was carved into your face, like a mask you couldn't remove. and every day, the weight of the mask felt heavier.

but today? today, it felt unbearable.

the knock on the door broke the silence, but you didn't move.

you didn't want to face anyone, least of all the one person who always made you feel like you were more than just the idol everyone expected you to be.

"y/n? are you in there?" it was intak, his voice low but filled with concern.

you swallowed, trying to steady your breath, trying to put on a face for him.

"yeah, i'm fine," you said quickly, the lie tasting bitter in your mouth.

you hadn't been fine for a while now, but saying it out loud made it feel real.

the door creaked open, and in he walked.

his eyes instantly fell on you. you hadn't even turned your face toward him, but the way he stood there, so still, so patient, told you everything you needed to know.

he had known something was wrong the moment you'd entered the building, and he hadn't stopped looking for you since. he'd noticed the way you'd withdrawn into yourself during the performance, the way your usual spark seemed dulled.

but intak wasn't the type to push when you weren't ready, so he waited. but now, seeing the emptiness in your eyes, he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"y/n..." his voice was so soft, so full of empathy. "what's going on?"

you hated the way your throat closed at his words, how they made everything inside you feel more fragile, more exposed.

you had tried so hard to keep everything locked inside, but in front of him, it felt like it was all coming apart.

"i'm fine," you repeated, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"no, you're not," intak stepped closer, his voice gentle but firm. "you don't have to keep pretending with me, y/n. please, talk to me. what's going on?"

you could feel your chest tightening, the familiar sensation of a breakdown creeping up.

but you held it back, like you always did.

you couldn't let him see you like this. you couldn't show him the weakness, the cracks in the perfect image you were supposed to embody.

"i just need a minute," you said, your voice strained, desperate to push him away so you wouldn't have to face the pain.

but intak wasn't backing off.

he knelt beside you, his expression softening as he reached out to touch your arm.

"it's okay. you don't have to do this alone. you're not weak, y/n. you're allowed to break sometimes. but you don't have to carry all of this on your own."

the words were like a bomb going off inside of you. the dam you had spent so long building finally cracked.

you didn't want to cry. you didn't want to fall apart in front of him, but the moment intak touched you, his warmth, his concern, the tears flooded out.

you couldn't stop them.

"i... i don't know what's wrong with me, intak," you whispered, voice breaking with the weight of all the fear you'd been holding in. "i'm supposed to be perfect. i'm supposed to be this idol that everyone looks up to, but i can't keep doing it anymore. i'm so tired. i'm just so... tired."

your body shook with the force of your sobs, the overwhelming exhaustion finally spilling over. you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure.

the company, the fans, the endless expectations. it all felt so far removed from who you were as a person. you had always done your best to keep up the image. smiling, laughing, always giving more than you thought you had.

but now? now you didn't even know who you were.

intak didn't say anything for a moment. he just sat there, quietly watching you, as if giving you the space to let it all out. his hand remained on your shoulder, his touch reassuring but gentle.

"you don't have to be perfect, y/n."

he finally whispered, his voice filled with such tenderness that it almost felt like he was trying to heal the broken pieces of you.

"you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. it's okay to be tired. it's okay to need a break. you're allowed to be human."

"i'm not perfect," you gasped through your sobs, shaking your head as though the words themselves physically hurt. "i'm so scared that one day i'm going to wake up and everything will come crashing down. what if they hate me? what if they don't love me for who i really am?"

intak's hand tightened on your shoulder, and you could feel the ache in his chest, too, as if hearing the depth of your pain hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

it was breaking him, but he wasn't going anywhere. he couldn't leave you like this.

"y/n, listen to me," he said softly, lifting your chin so that you had to look at him.

his eyes were filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache.

"i don't care if you're perfect. i don't care about the image the company created for you or what anyone expects. you're enough. just as you are."

you shook your head, unable to accept his words. you didn't believe them.

not when you felt so far removed from the person everyone thought you were. the real you. the person that had been buried under layers of expectation. the person who didn't even know if they could go on pretending anymore.

"i'm not enough," you whispered, broken. "i'm not good enough for you. i'm not good enough for anyone."

you could feel your chest constricting again, the weight of your self-doubt pressing down on you like a vice.

intak's eyes filled with anguish, his face scrunching up with the emotion he couldn't hide. it physically hurt him to see you like this, to see the person he loved so much torn apart by invisible forces.

"y/n," he said, his voice shaking now. "you are more than enough. don't you get it? i'm not with you because of your image. i'm not with you because of the fans. i'm with you because i love you. the real you. the person who cares so much for others, the person who makes me laugh when i'm down, the person who gets frustrated with the smallest mistakes and pushes himself to do better. you're perfect in the way that matters. you're perfect to me."

his words, raw and sincere, were like a balm to the wound in your heart. but even as he spoke them, you couldn't fully believe them.

the weight of everything you were carrying felt too heavy. the fear that you weren't worthy of his love, the fear that one day everything would come crashing down, clouded your mind.

the pressure was suffocating.

"i don't know how to be that person anymore," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "i don't know who i am without all of this. without the image, the expectations. i don't even recognize myself anymore. i just feel so... lost."

intak's heart broke even further, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into his arms.

it was a tight, protective hug, the kind that wrapped around you like a shield, like he would never let go. he buried his face in your hair, holding you as if he could absorb all of your pain and exhaustion into himself.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," he whispered, his voice breaking. "i never wanted you to feel like this. i just want you to be happy. i just want you to be okay."

and in that moment, all the walls you'd built around yourself, all the lies you'd told, started to crumble.

you felt his love, steady and unwavering, surrounding you. his warmth was the only thing that made the fear and exhaustion bearable.

"i'll help you," he said softly, pulling back just enough to kiss your forehead. "we'll figure this out together. you don't have to carry this weight alone. i'm here. i'm always here."

for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself lean into him completely.

the overwhelming flood of emotions left you raw and vulnerable, but with intak beside you, it didn't feel like the end. it felt like the beginning of something new.

maybe it wouldn't be easy. maybe you'd still have moments where the weight of everything felt unbearable. but for now, you didn't have to pretend anymore.

you weren't alone. and that was enough.

[pinkbeanii]

I do love me some hurt comfort fics, and in this particular instance I'm talking about arguments and making up. However...

I work with children. So my immediate response to when anyone, including adults, gives me attitude is to ask "You want to try that again?" And honestly, it works pretty well. And I have never seen any fan fiction really utilize that...

So either I need to get my shit together and write a fic with that premise, or somebody else needs to do it! And please tag me if you do!

💖Beanie

[yyawnjun]

guys if you ever read super good fanfic pls mind send it to me or tag me, i will give you cookies and a smooch if you do it,,,,i truly hate how Tumblr works, there are so many good fics out there but it's so complicated to find them bc how the system is set up (ಥ﹏ಥ)

[ohhmydyosfics]

(Keeung) But satisfaction brought it back

“I wouldn’t know how else to explain it,” Jiung shrugged. “We both seem to drift towards each other- for whatever reason”.

“I can’t say that i mind” the way the raven-haired would just say anything that comes to his mind was starting to make his blush into a constant occurrence.

Jiung scoffed out a little laugh, aware that his body is screaming at him to get closer to Keeho again. He did his best to drown out the insistent thoughts. “Is it your job to not take this situation seriously?”

or

Despite both Jiung and Keeho having their minds erased for good, they find a way to get their relationship back to what it was. With some... inconveniences in the way.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43878457

[blankjournal]

Recommended for our weekly theme!

CHOCOLATE CAKE

genre. fluff. slight hurt/comfort. warnings. exams/exam stress mentioned. crying. brief mention of drinking/partying. light profanity. food (cake hehe). mentioned that reader wears makeup. intak cheers you up!! pairing. intak x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. for my kyo @blue-jisungs <33 ilysm and i'm so proud of you, ik you've worked so so hard <33

By the time your bus was almost to your stop to get off, the tears had dried on your cheeks. You felt absolutely exhausted, and there was nothing you wanted more than to get home and just sleep. Exam season was always stressful, but the past month had been a living hell.

You didn’t exactly do great on your midterms, despite studying almost every second you were awake. It frustrated you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to get the high marks that you strived so hard for. Your friends seemed to pass so easily, some of them not even bothering to study in advance. While they had all gone out drinking or partying now that it was the last exam day, you were prepared to study more tomorrow in order to retake exams next week.

You had cried all day— after one of your more stressful exams, after getting a bad mark back on an earlier exam, at lunch when your friends asked you how you had done. It was both embarrassing and exhausting. You were so, so tired.

You felt numb and mindless as you grabbed your bag and got off the bus. The air was cold and sharp, but the breeze was welcome. Even the shiver that ran up your spine as you stepped onto the pavement wasn’t a bother. It allowed you to breathe. The dark cloudy sky seemed to be mirroring your mood, and you found a small comfort in that. 

You didn’t bother to knock or announce your presence at all when you reached your apartment. You didn’t have the energy to talk; your entire body feeling sluggish and slow as you dropped your bag on the chair and shuffled out of your boots.

“Fuck- Did I not set the timer?! No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

The voice of your boyfriend startled you at first before you registered the familiar tone and relaxed, a whisper of a smile even playing on your lips. He hadn’t said anything about stopping by today, but given his love for surprising you, you should have expected it. You weren’t quite ready to show yourself to him, though, so you made your way quietly to the bathroom, still able to hear him talking to himself in the kitchen.

“Chocolate, chocolate… melt for… 30 second intervals? She likes chocolate- so 2 packets? Yeah.” 

You wiped off any makeup that had survived your many crying sessions and washed your face of the tear stains and exhaustion of the day. Once you changed into pyjama pants and one of Intak’s stolen hoodies, you finally felt at ease. The weight of exams and the thought of retakes still looming over your head wasn’t something you could ignore, but just for tonight you willed your brain to not focus on it. Just for tonight, you deserved to rest.

You shuffled to the doorway of the kitchen, still trying to be as quiet as possible. Intak had his back turned to you, and didn’t notice your presence at all as he worked near the stovetop. The smell of chocolate cake and cherries reached your nose, and your chest felt warm. Intak always knew your favourite comfort foods and the best ways to cheer you up after a long day. 

You didn’t realize until now just how much you had missed him. As you watched him scurry around the kitchen, completely oblivious to your figure in the doorway, you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. You missed his hugs and his kisses. You missed your late night talks and when you would game together where he would let you win on purpose. You missed telling him how much you loved him and watching his eyes brighten. 

Given how busy you were studying and preparing for exams, you barely had time to see him in the past 2 weeks. He would send you encouraging text messages in the morning, and you would text him during your breaks, but most of the time you had to keep your phone far away from you and on Do Not Disturb to keep your focus. 

You missed him so much that it was almost hard for you to keep watching him silently when you knew that he would hug you as soon as he was aware you were there. But he soon turned around to transfer a bowl to the sink, and his eyes quickly met yours and froze. You watched as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape before turning up into a big grin a second later.

“You’re back!” He chucked the dishes into the sink and practically ran over to you, capturing you in his arms and lifting you slightly off the floor. “I thought the exams would swallow you whole, I missed you so much.” He mumbled in your ear, prompting a smile to form on your face.

“Me too.” You sighed in content. The feeling of Intak’s arms around you was one of your favourites in the entire world. From how close you were, you could smell his woody cologne as well as his gentle natural scent peaking through. He hugged you tightly, swaying softly from side to side until you made moves to escape his embrace.

“One sec!” He rushed to the other room, coming back with a bouquet of pink and white flowers. “For my academic weapon of a girlfriend.” 

You were going to protest about the academic weapon part, but with his cheesy grin plastered on his face as he held out the flowers to you, you didn’t have the heart to. You knew he wouldn’t accept any objection from you anyway. In his eyes, you were nothing less than perfect.

You ranted about the past week to him while he finished decorating a chocolate cake, discouraged by the fact that you would have to retake some exams. But Intak would only say how proud he was of you for making it through the stressful month.

“You worked really really hard, and I’m so proud of you, baby. The scores don’t reflect your self worth, okay?” He reassured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead after you had told him everything.

You wouldn’t have believed the words coming from anyone else, but he was your boyfriend and you knew he wasn’t even capable of lying to you (after all, he had tried in the past, and you had caught him every time).

Seeing Intak’s smile and hearing his words of encouragement gave you back energy for almost an hour, but you felt a crash of tiredness again once you settled on the couch with him to eat cake and snuggle.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ll have to carry you to bed.” Intak joked, watching you sleepily blink with love in his eyes. Despite being worried about how hard you had pushed yourself, he knew the best thing he could do was just cheer you on and let you recharge with hugs. He wouldn’t care even if you fell asleep on his arm and it was sore for hours the next day.

“You’re comfortable.” You argue in a mumble, only melting into his arms more. You were practically a puddle on top of him— letting your entire body relax and trusting that Intak would let you sleep.

“My girl is that tired, hm? Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” He spoke softly, brushing your hair out of your face and making sure the blanket covered your shoulders.

“You’re more comfortable than my bed.” You whispered, already teetering on the edge of consciousness. You heard Intak scoff, and though your eyes were closed, you could picture his adoring smile perfectly. You were half asleep by the time his response fell on your ears, and entirely too tired at that point to comprehend his words. You smiled when you felt him press a kiss to your temple, and finally allowed yourself to slip away to your dreams after the long day.

With Intak by your side, the stress of your life seemed to lessen, and your mind stopped racing as much. You let yourself relax and just enjoy being with him, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

↳ p1h taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @amara-mars,, @nyukyujs

[rosie-rosem]

coming out with new tweeting hearts chapters soon !!!! it’s gonna have more drama. 😵

[atzaurora]

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] mᥲs𝗍ᥱrᥣіs𝗍

inbox is always open for requests, feedback or if you wanna talk :3

➤ for ateez & enhypen (writing for txt, p1harmony and seventeen as well!)

➤ ☆-𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ★-𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕/𝒔��𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 ✱-𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔: imagines, preferences, reactions, headcanons, hard thoughts, soft thoughts, text messages, audios

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

ateez

❥ ot8 !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing their hoodie ☆(reaction)

-let them eat cake ✱☆(imagine)

-ateez as mitski songs (preferences)

-movie night or more ★(imagine)

-poly relationship headcanons ☆(headcanons)

-a twist in the spotlight ✱☆(imagine)

-accidentally sending them nudes ★(text messages) (hyung line, maknae line)

-stress release ★(imagine)

-asking them if you are breedable ★(text messages)

-sending them nudes mid argument ★(text messages)

-guess who? ★(imagine)

-wearing a push-up bra ★(text messages)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ kim hongjoong !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-stormy comfort ☆,✱(imagine)

-to watch you play ★(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-audio #1 ★(audio)

-midnight melodies ★(imagine)

-"swallow." ★(imagine)

-forbidden lessons ★(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ park seonghwa !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-back to our hotel ★(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-audio #1 ★(audio)

-triad of desire (ft. Mingi) ★(imagine)

-dance of desire ★(imagine)

-"swallow." ★(imagine)

-dessert ★(imagine)

-join in (ft. Mingi) ★(imagine)

-beneath the candlelight ★(imagine)

-moonlit whispers ★(imagine)

-audio #2 ★(audio)

-pure heat ★(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ jeong yunho !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-care in the comforts of home ☆(imagine)

-choose me over them ★(imagine)

-cloud watching ☆(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-splash of desire (ft. Jongho) ★(imagine)

-steamy serenity ★(imagine)

-audio #1 ★(audio)

-stormy apologies ★✱(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ kang yeosang !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-from stage to sheets ★(imagine)

-crimson nights ★(imagine)

-spilled ★(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ choi san !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-fall asleep while i fall for you ☆(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-lessons in lust ★(imagine)

-honeyed temptations ★(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ song mingi !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-mirror, mirror on the wall ★(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-work distractions ★(imagine)

-triad of desire (ft. Seonghwa) ★(imagine)

-audio #1 ★(audio)

-link #1 ★(hard thoughts)

-join in (ft. Seonghwa) ★(imagine)

-seed of affection ★(imagine)

-nail polish ☆(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ jung wooyoung !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-rain of pleasure ★(imagine)

-audio #1 ★(audio)

-heated waves ★(imagine)

-sunset harmonies ☆(imagine)

-craving the storm ★(imagine)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ choi jongho !

-pet names ★(preferences)

-wearing his hoodie ☆(reaction)

-from the living to the bed room ★(imagine)

-accidentally sending him nudes ★(text messages)

-splash of desire (ft. Yunho) ★(imagine)

enhypen

❥ ot7 !

-scared to hurt ✱(imagine)

-how loud they would be ★(preferences)

-sleepyhead (hyung line) ☆(reaction)

-gentle comforts ✱☆(reaction)

-midnight glances ★☆(text messages)

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ lee heeseung !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ park jongseong !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ sim jaeyun !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ park sunghoon !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ kim sunoo !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ yang jungwon !

nothing here yet...

─ · ─ · ─ · ─ · ─ ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

❥ nishimura riki !

nothing here yet...

[moonhoures]

Sunday Morning

🕷️ kinktober — day 9: cockwarming 🕸️

pairing: jiung (p1harmony) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, morning sex, cockwarming, edging (kinda? sorry jiung 😅), somnophilia (idk if this really counts but i’m putting it just in case!), pet names: ‘ji’ & ‘baby’ for jiung

word count: ~1.8k

synopsis: just some good ol’ morning sex with bf!jiung 😌

posted: october 9, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Your bedroom was enveloped in a layer of thin darkness provided by the gloomy, rainy weather settling outside of your windows. Sundays were usually your chore and errand day of the week, but when your eyes cracked open for the first time this morning and saw the nasty weather, you threw those plans out the window (metaphorically). Instead of getting up to start your day, you snuggled yourself further into the warmth of your sheets, pulling them tighter to you. You snuggled your face into the plush of your pillow, and shifted your hips back for a more comfortable position. Only, your behind met something solid, which had you concerned and confused, but only for a moment.

“Hey, quit hogging the covers.”

You melted into relief as you remembered that your boyfriend had stayed the night and was sleeping just behind you. His presence made itself clear as he turned to face you, tugging back some of the sheets. He lifted them up while he scooted closer to you, letting the soft fabric fall over the both of you. You felt his arm encircle your waist and pull you closer to his front.

“I forgot you were here,” the grogginess of just waking up was evident in your voice, cracking some of the syllables.

“Ouch,” Jiung mumbled with fake-hurt, making you laugh softly, “Glad to know I have such a big impact on your life.”

“Well you haven’t stayed the night in so long. Excuse me for not being used to waking up with you next to me.”

Your boyfriend leaned forward and kissed your shoulder that was exposed by the neck of your shirt slipping to the side. You instinctively scrunched up, trying to avoid the tickling sensation that came with his lips and breath brushing against your sensitive skin. But he persisted, hands holding onto your hips to keep you still while he attempted to kiss your neck. The best he could manage was leaving chaste pecks on the nape of your neck.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend the night,” he apologized with a smile as he held you close, spooning you. Your hands found his at your navel, and you intertwined your fingers with his, “I’ll have to change that soon.”

“I would like to wake up like this more often,” you confessed, making your boyfriend smile even wider.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, scooting yourself impossibly closer to him. He hoped you didn’t hear the small noise he let out when you brushed against the subtle tent forming in his shorts. But of course he couldn’t get that lucky, “Seems like you would, too.”

“Babe-“ he groaned in embarrassment, his arms tightening around you. You laughed at his expense.

“If you had morning wood, you could’ve just said so, Ji.”

“I didn’t- I don’t- I-,” your boyfriend sighed, half in defeat and half in frustration. It’s not like he was the one that rubbed his erection against your ass, “It’ll go away, just . . . don’t touch it.”

Secretly, you loved making Jiung flustered like this. He was always so cute when he got nervous and stuttered over his words. You wished you could see how pink his cheeks were getting. How wide his eyes were. You decided to tease him further, not-so-innocently shifting to “get more comfortable” and brushing even more against his bulge in the process.

“________,” he warned you, hand gripping your waist in attempt to stop your movements.

“You’re right, I’m too tired for that right now,” you sighed, but the gears were already turning in that pretty head of yours, “Unless . . . you want to just put it in and nap some more with me?”

“How is that any fun?” he asked, a slight pout to his lips. But he wasn’t denying you, so that was something.

“I guess it’s not supposed to be,” you shrugged, “But it’s intimate. And if you’re good, I might reward you.”

“Might?”

“Fine, I will reward you. But only if you stay still and let me nap.”

Jiung mulled it over for a minute, but he truly didn’t think he had the strength, the self control. Still, he was never one to turn down the opportunity to have sex with you. There were very few things he could think of that were better than being buried inside of you, so this just felt like a no brainer.

“Think you can do that?” you asked him, peeking over your shoulder to see him struggling in his own contemplation. The dark shadows on his face brightened with the flash of lightning that illuminated the room for a split second, followed by a low rumble of thunder off in the distance.

“Uh huh,” he nodded, even though he knew you couldn’t see him do so.

It was a blessing and curse that you decided to sleep in only your underwear and one of his t-shirts. A blessing in the sense that it gave him easier access, and a curse in the sense that the easy access only turned him on more, making his erection stand at full attention, hard and uncomfortable. He thought a quick, thankful prayer as he took his weeping cock out from his sleep shorts. If you hadn’t decided you wanted to cockwarm him, he would’ve waited entirely too long to take care of his morning wood in the bathroom like a gentleman. He made a mental note to treat you real good the next time you had proper sex.

“Are you ready now?” he asked, not wanting to dive right in too soon and have it be uncomfortable for you.

“Honestly, Ji, I’ve been wet since I woke up,” you admitted with a small giggle, “So yeah.”

A small fluttering feeling took up space in his chest as he wondered if you were wet because of him. Had you dreamed of him? You had never had a wet dream about him—as far as he knew—so the possibility made him really happy.

He decided not to waste anymore time, so he discreetly used some of his spit to moisten the grip on his dick, rubbing it out a little before getting closer to your center. The fabric of your underwear was easy to move out of the way, and in seconds he was sinking into you with a small hiss. Inch by inch, he fed his length to your hole, letting you suck him in with a familiar warmth that felt like the most impure hug.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he couldn’t help himself from admitting. Once he was seated deep within your heat he got the overwhelming urge to thrust, but the voice of his conscience told him to keep himself in check. It shouldn’t be too bad, all he had to do was hold you and stay still until the both of you nodded back off to sleep. But how long do they plan on napping? he thought. I don’t know how long I can do this before I go insane.

A mix of a hum and a small sigh left you as you felt yourself become full. Jiung watched you practically melt into the bed, your shoulders dropping with relaxation and your head nestling further into your pillow. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head without even thinking about it. His body moved on its own, doing what his heart wanted him to. He smiled at your cozy state, hugging you again. His legs were almost entangled with yours in this position. You two were so close that you basically became one entity.

“This feels nice,” you spoke so softly, moments away from falling back into a slumber.

Jiung wanted to agree, but he was focusing too much on relaxing and not bucking his hips into yours like he so badly wanted to. So instead, he hummed weakly in agreement, fingertips softly gripping the flesh of your tummy as he tried not to adjust his position. If he moved even a centimeter while inside of you, he knew the drag of his cock against your walls would feel too good for him to stay quiet and keep his cool.

“Ji,” you called his name, a hint of a smile on your lips, though he couldn’t see it since he was behind you and his eyes were screwed shut in concentration, “You okay?”

“Mhm, just- trying to stay still like you asked.”

You chuckled faintly. He really was the cutest—and the most obedient, you’ve noticed, “You’re doing good, baby. Just a while longer.”

Jiung nodded, but inside he was whining like a sick puppy. Just a while longer, he thought.

A few minutes turned into several minutes, and eventually became over half an hour. Jiung had finally gotten to a point where he was fully relaxed, cuddling you and focusing on your lulling breaths to keep himself at bay, and it worked. Your delicate snoring didn’t even faze him as his eyes fell closed and he began nodding off beside you. He awoke after a while when you shifted in his warm embrace, hips slightly rutting against his. A choked groan squeaked out of his lips before he could stop it.

“Sorry, baby, did I wake you?” you asked him, purposefully beginning to rock your hips in the most subtle way that it could seem accidental.

“Ah- Please,” he breathed out in a sheepish tone, his hand quickly moving from your stomach back to your hips. His fingertips gripped onto your skin desperately, trying to get you to stop moving.

“What? I thought you wanted to fuck me, Ji?”

“I- I do,” his words came out in pants as his groin began to feel like it was on fire again. His cock throbbed with the anguishing need to cum.

“Then fuck me.”

It was the most gentle command he had ever heard, but the most compelling. Not even a second went by before he was thrusting into you with fervor. Your lip was sucked in between your teeth as you tried to bite back moans and failed. Jiung was a sweet lover, always so attentive and never selfish. He did tend to get a little ambitious sometimes, and those were the few times he would cum before you did. Now seemed like it would be one of those times, but you couldn’t blame him. He had suffered long enough while you cock warmed him. He was a good boy, and did exactly as you asked of him. He deserved to cum first.

“Cum whenever you’re ready, baby.”

“Thank you,” a long, pathetic moan followed his words as his hips stuttered behind your own. He jerked and twitched with every rope of cum that painted your insides. Overwhelming pleasure was all he felt, and in that moment all the waiting he had to do was worth it. Absolutely worth it.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @celestialplatinum @pinklemonadeflav @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[luumiinaa]

the dreaded aunty chats, be so relatable 💀 🫶🏼 jiung though, greenest flag all around 🫶🏼

cookies, necklaces and pigtails

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol bf!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: (very self indulgent) flufffffff

♡ summary: jiung, the ever-loving, sweet boyfriend, meets your extended family for the first time. whilst the rest of the family has reservations against him, your four year old cousin is already a huge fan (read: he may or may not have promised her chocolate chip cookies).

♡ word count: 2,327 words

♡ a/n: thank you sooo much to @hyungseos-cafe for making the moodboard that inspired this :))

//

The sun was shining warmly on the well-kept garden beyond the kitchen windows, providing the roses and herbs your aunt tenderly cared for with some much-needed light to grow and flourish. Your head rested on your palms, watching a stray butterfly breeze past before stopping to admire the white roses. You knew you should’ve been paying attention, but your aunt has been going on and on since the mains were served, so you let her faux-saccharine words slip past you: in one ear, out the other.

You tried to subtly twist your head around in search of your boyfriend, but you didn’t have to look too hard – Jiung stuck out like a sore thumb. His bleached, grey hair bobbing up and down as he helped your mother with the dishes, sleeves of his freshly steamed jacket rolled to expose his lithe, veiny forearms. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and he flashed you an apologetic smile, wordlessly urging you to return your attention to your aunt. After all, he was always the more sensible, responsible and mature one out of the two of you. The exchange only lasted a few seconds though, before his attention was pulled away by your mother. You only caught a glimpse, but you could tell your boyfriend was listening attentively to her, respectfully nodding at all the right places and providing insightful answers. He was such an angel.

Your attention was torn away by your aunt. “Y/N,” she called your name sternly and you cringed. Even your mother had stopped using that particular tone on you years ago.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening? Daydreaming again, aren’t you?” She sighed, as though you had dragged your family’s honour through the mud, yet again. “First, you take a break from school. Now, you’re dating that boy? Tell me, are you even serious about him?”

“Imo!”

“Don’t Imo me! I’m asking because it’s what everyone else wants to know as well. They’re just too afraid to ask you about it. So? What’s your answer?”

It was your turn to sigh this time, rolling your eyes for added effect. Why did your family always have to be like this? “Yes, I’m serious! What makes you think I’m not?”

Your aunt tsked in response. “Young love. You will understand when you’re older. You think love will last forever, just because he promised you the world, then one day he wakes up and realises that actually, he doesn’t love you anymore. These things never last, Y/N. Trust me – especially not when they look like that.”

You had to summon all your willpower to not react impulsively in a physical way, fists coming under the kitchen bench to ball into tight fists. Why on earth were your relatives treating your boyfriend with such disrespect when all he ever did since stepping past those doors was be respectful and helpful and friendly? He even went above and beyond by insisting on buying pastries for dessert, to help set up the picnic tables outside and was even washing the dishes. You were fuming on his behalf. “Thanks… for the advice, Imo. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” You gritted your teeth, pushing the words out your mouth as you spun quickly on the balls of your feet, eager to get out of the conversation before you said something you couldn’t take back.

On the way to the bathroom, you spotted your boyfriend wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as your mother busied herself with arranging dessert. You hurriedly informed her that you were stealing your boyfriend from her as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the entertainment room.

Your boyfriend complied easily, knowing that something was up the moment you stepped foot into the house. Family was always a touchy subject for you, he knew that much. You got along well with your parents, especially since moving out. Being an only child, the distance certainly helped prevent you from getting smothered by your parents’ love and attention. However, your extended family was a whole different story. Today was the annual family gathering to get your mum’s side of the family together, and you dreaded it every year, like clockwork. Having moved out of the bubble your mum’s family grew up in when you were in primary school, you found it more and more challenging with each passing year to relate to any of your relatives. You found it even harder to put up with their neverending nosiness and nagging.

You’d been to this house many times since your infancy. You knew that as the adults gathered around the dining table and kitchen area, the kids preferred to play amongst themselves outdoors in the garden, leaving the rest of the spacious house empty. 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two of you entered the empty entertainment room hand in hand. You turned around, launching into a rant, “Jiung, I’m so sorry – I know I warned you, but I should’ve seen this coming. It’s just, they’re so, urgh! They’re so annoying! This happens every single year. If it’s not – how did you do in school, it’s – which university did you apply to or what major are you studying. Then it was – what do you do for work, and do you have a boyfriend, or when are you getting married, just…” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, fingers pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes to compose yourself, trying to contain your frustration. 

As you took several deep breaths, you felt your boyfriend snake his arms around you, his familiar scent mixed with aftershave infiltrating your senses. You could even make out the faint aroma of chocolate chip cookies lingering on his clothes, the aftermath of his brief baking session with your mother. You could feel your tense limbs loosen slightly.

“Y/N,” He said your name, and it made your legs feel like the green and red bits of Jell-O resting in the fridge, waiting to be devoured by your kid cousins. You felt yourself melt even more in his arms as he lightly pressed his pillowy lips against your forehead. “It’s fine, really.”

“But…” You replied in nothing more than a mere whisper. “I feel bad… We were meant to have a relaxing long weekend away at my parents’, who, by the way,” your fingers came to play with the silver necklace hanging around his slim neck out of habit. “Thank goodness – are perfectly normal. How could I forget that we had to visit the rest of the family this weekend?” You huffed, lips forming into what Jiung thought was the most irresistible pout. You were clearly disappointed that your weekend away had not gone as you imagined.

“It’s definitely okay. Besides,” He paused to tug your bottom lip out of the pout and tuck your fringe behind your ears. “I like making cookies. And your mum and I make a good dishwashing team.” Jiung gave you one of his smiles, the ones that make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and you couldn’t help but return it with a gummy smile of your own. He always seemed to have this sort of effect on you, always able to disarm your short fuse and bring you back down to earth with a warm touch and a tender smile.

“Eonnie!”

“Oh?” The two of you have never pulled away so fast, basically separating from each other at the speed of light. 

“Looks like we have a visitor.” Jiung announced, turning towards the entrance to find your youngest cousin, a little four year-old girl dressed in a pink princess dress and pigtails. “Hello, little one.”

“Oppa!” You could tell the little girl, Haeun, was way more interested in playing with your boyfriend than you. “Cookies!” That must’ve been why. Jiung told her he was baking cookies with your mum after family lunch, which clearly piqued her interest.

“They’re not ready yet, little one. Do you want other desserts instead? We chopped up some fruit earlier as well.” Jiung replied in a soft voice that was gentler and sweeter than usual. You smiled, watching as he lowered himself to her height, approaching her with a tiny wave, which she returned.

“No fruit, I want cookies.” She replied adamantly.

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Jiung teased under his breath, soft enough only for your ears. You laughed in response as you looked around for something to preoccupy your baby cousin. It was an entertainment room after all, surely there would be some books, or a soft toy…

“What’s that?” Haeun asked, curious.

“What’s what?” Jiung replied, now sitting cross-legged next to the girl. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. It seemed like your youngest cousin had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger.

“This one, it’s shiny!” She took a few quick steps towards him before collapsing and melting into his outstretched arms, fingers coming to grab at the sparkly pendant of his necklace.

It was your second anniversary gift. Jiung had always liked jewellery, and would occasionally talk about how he’d always wanted to wear more accessories but didn’t know how or where to start curating pieces to match his outfits. You offered up your own collection of silvers and golds, but opted to get him a silver necklace when he graduated from borrowing your rings and necklaces (in reality, he had misplaced one too many chains and you were starting to run low) – his had a silver sun pendant, while yours was a matching gold. 

“Oh, this?” He glanced down at the pendant. “It’s a sun. Y/N has a matching one. She got it for me as a present.”

“Bingo!” You cheered as you found a bunch of crayons held together with hair ties and a few pieces of paper (you didn’t question it, knowing that your aunt had two toddlers herself which threatened her vision of running the perfect, tidy household). “Do you want to draw a necklace for yourself, Haeun?”

She nodded happily, running over to you and plopping down on the floor. The three of you gathered together and began to pick out your favourite crayon colours. As you settled on drawing and colouring, you pretended to hide your artworks from each other if one of you dared to sneak a glance at the other’s, leading to several fits of laughs and giggles.

Haeun, ever the observant child, noticed that your boyfriend kept having to brush his hair away from his face while his lanky body was hunched over his drawing. She reached out with grabby hands and tried to comb chunks of his silvery locks into a makeshift ponytail. 

You could see her vision, and couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet interaction. “Here, let me help.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend looked up at the two of you, slightly confused.

It wasn’t like it was his first rodeo. You often held his hair back with a headband before cooking or washing his face, and sometimes tied his hair up for him when he was busy doing work. With Haeun working on one side and you on the other, you two girls fashioned Jiung’s hair into two (slightly mismatched) pigtails.

After a few more minutes of silent colouring, “I’m done!” Haeun declared, setting down her crayon. She held out her masterpiece, exhibiting it excitedly to you and your boyfriend. “See, it’s us!”

Indeed, your baby cousin had drawn you and your boyfriend, holding hands, and a little girl next to them, in a pink dress much like the one she was currently wearing. All three of you had bunny-looking ears, presumably to match the pigtails, and matching necklaces. You and Jiung showed her your artwork, but unanimously agreed that Haeun’s was the best out of the three. You made a mental note to go necklace shopping for her later today.

“Haeun! Haeun?” The voice of her mother, your younger (and favourite) aunt, filtered through the hallways.

“She’s in here!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were outsi – Oh!” Your aunt stood at the doorway, pleasantly surprised at how well-behaved her active daughter was. “You got her to sit down. Great job guys!”

“Look, mummy! We drew some pictures!” Haeun ran towards her mother’s feet, passing her the drawing before hugging her feet.

“Wow, you did a great job, sweetie! Are those necklaces?”

“Yes, oppa said eonnie gave it to him as a present.”

The two of you stole glances at each other, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Did she? Well, your Y/N eonnie must like Jiung oppa very much. Speaking of which,” Your younger aunt turns towards you and Jiung. “I think she’s disturbed the two of you enough now. I’ll distract her with some cookies so you two can get some alone time.” She flashed a knowing smile, and you had to fight the urge to combust in embarrassment.

“We had lots of fun playing with her, imo.”

“Oh, I see she’s done your hair too! And the necklaces, you’re wearing them. Ah, young love,” She sighed wistfully. “How adorable.”

“Cookies! Mummy, I want cookies!”

//

epilogue.

“So, how many do you want?” Jiung asked under his breath, feigning nonchalance whilst his lips worked itself into a sheepish grin.

“How many what?” You asked, distracted. You were trying to find the covers for takeaway containers amongst the pile of dishes.

“Kids, of course.”

A soft clang echoed throughout the now-empty kitchen as you dropped the empty container. Your cheeks reddened so much that when Jiung turned around to check on you after a long silence, he had to cool them down with his hands, which were freezing cold from handling the ice box.

“Too soon?” He couldn’t help but tease, chuckling to himself at your stunned expression.

You nodded.

After a few beats, you whispered, “two, maybe.”

[sxtvrns]

Hihi! Could I request a OT6 p1harmony reaction where the reader is on her period and is cramping? 😭

If not it's COMPLETELY ok and ignore this please!!🙌🏼

Thank you bby🩷

end of discussion, period

🎶 now playing: emergency - p1harmony

P: OT6!P1Harmony + Fem!Reader (platonic)

S: Your best friends are unusually well versed in dealing with that time of the month.

G: fluff, hurt/comfort

N: hey yall if you havent seen my other post i would like to let yall know p1harmony is no longer my ult </3 I CAN STILL WRITE FOR THEM JUST PUT IT IN UR REQS but my profile will end up undergoing a transformation!! anyways ik i picked a silly song for this but this is a silly little fic so enjoy and KEEP THOSE REQUESTS COMING I LOVE GETTING UR LITTLE PROMPTS

please interact if you enjoy!

On the outside, you’re keeping a stone cold expression, hyperfocused on the show playing on your TV. The rest of your place is quiet, the only other audible sound being the running air conditioner in the background.

On the inside, you’re fighting demons as your cramps fight wars in your stomach, the pain constant and increasingly tedious. At this point, the pain had become a nuisance and was at the forefront of your mind.

You were desperately trying to get it to go away because you were supposed to meet with your friends later; so far, the pain doesn’t seem like it will subside.

Of course, every sense was heightened because of your period, including the sense that you’d die on your couch and succumb to the torture of your cramps.

Your friends would be pissed at you for cancelling and you know it. The more you try to move, the more the pain moves around in your stomach. You felt gross and unkept, despite having taken a shower a few minutes ago. This couch was your deathbed, and the ceiling would be last thing you saw before you died.

Slowly, you picked up your phone and texted the group chat.

👤: guys

👤: it’s hell rn

🐺: i mean yeah it’s boiling outside

👤: i can’t go

🐺: WHAT

🐿️: Y/N WE’VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR MONTHS

🐯: we planned this 2 weeks ago

👤: IK im sorry but im glued to my couch right now and i can’t get up

🐶: lazy ass

🍟: (*´-`)

👤: i am in physical pain and it very much hurts

🐺: did you get stabbed

🐿️: are you okay

🐺: why aren’t you at the hospital

👤: calm down it’s not that serious

🐯: then why can’t you come?

👤: …

👤: cramps

🐶: ohhhh

🐶: sorry

🐶: you’re not lazy

👤: you better be sorry

🍟: (・∀・)

🐿️: those cramps

👤: yes jiung period cramps

👤: they’re hurting really bad this time and it’s hard for me to move

🐺: stay calm don’t panic

👤: what

🐯: keeho is running around the dorm rn

👤: why

👤: you guys??

👤: hello??????

“Assholes…” You muttered, putting down your phone and accepting your fate.

You shut your eyes, trying to find some sort of relief in the void that is the back of your eyelids, and though it helped distract you, it didn’t exactly help get rid of the pain. On top of that, the guilt you felt for canceling last minute was starting to get to you.

Sure, you only planned this outing 2 weeks ago, but everyone was really looking forward to it. You hoped they’d go without you, but knowing them, they’d rather stub their toe on every surface than do something without you. But it would be such a waste if they didn’t–

“Y/N! Open up!”

You hear a voice yell from outside, along with aggressive pounding on your door, and the confusion overtook the pain as you walked to check who it was.

All 6 of your friends were outside your apartment with grocery bags and panicked expressions, except for Soul. He was staring into the camera. Keeho was knocking on your door rather unintentionally hostile; you knew he was just worried about you.

You slowly unlock the door and let out a soft groan, your voice matching the volume. “Hello?”

“Y/N, sit down.” Jiung gently guides you back to your couch, the rest of them flowing inside with the door closing behind them. You sit down, groaning in pain. “Where’s your heating pad? Why don’t you have it?”

“I was too tired to get up and get it–“

Jongseob suddenly drops it onto your lap, plugging it in and turning it on. You grab it and press it against your abdomen. “This is the setting you like, right?”

“How did you–“

“Made you some tea.” Theo put a mug down on the table, the steam telling of its freshness. Though the temperature doesn’t help with the weather, it would certainly help with your pain. It was even the right flavour too.

Soul put your favourite movie on the TV, and you could hear Keeho and Intak conversing in the kitchen.

“That’s too big, cut it smaller!”

“Not my fault the oranges are huge!”

Their bickering is soft, but you’re brought back to the people in front of you, sitting on the floor and watching the movie.

“Did you guys wanna sit?” You speak up. All of them shake their heads and assure you that they’re okay. Soul suddenly gets up and goes to your room.

“How about you lie down, Y/N? On your stomach?” Theo suggests, and you slowly get into said position, feeling comfier.

“Guys… seriously, what are you doing here?”

Jiung joins you in the living room. “Well, we weren’t just gonna go out without you. And besides, it’s super hot out.”

“Usually we’d be able to handle it, but it feels empty without you there. We can go out another time.”

The oranges Keeho and Intak were bickering over were finally placed on the coffee table in front of you, everyone lunging to grab a slice of their own.

“Most of all, we wanted to help you. At least you won’t have to deal with this on your own.” Keeho says. “Hey, save some for Y/N!” He scolds his group members.

You chuckle. “You guys are seeing me while I’m hot shit.”

“You don’t look any different, Y/N.” Intak adds, sitting down and taking an orange slice for himself.

“Do you guys even know what you’re doing?” They all freeze, staring blankly at you.

“You complain about your period sometimes, so we have a general idea of it…” Soul mutters loud enough for you to hear.

“Are you guys sure you’re okay with… chilling here?” You ask, unsure. They all nod and Theo speaks up. “Your air conditioning is saving us right now. You can kick us out at any time if we hoard it too much.” You chuckle. The next thing you know, you doze off.

For a moment, you’re pulled out of sleep and hear faint bickering.

“The congee is burning!”

“Calm down, it’s just the towel– oh my god, the towel is on fire!”

In this heat and with your pain that’s slowly but surely drifting away, you couldn’t care less.

it’s an emergency! 🎧

[letsbangchanblog]

NSFW for Jongseob

Mature content: 18+ post! Minors, do not enter!!

Summary: NSFW ABCs

Idol: Jongseob from p1harmony

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Jongseob is very vanilla. He thinks he HAS to attend to your needs. He is very sweet and bashful after sex. I see you being his first so he is awkward at first but will learn to be better. 

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He loves your ass. He thinks it will save his life if he touches it once a day. He is so lucky to have the chance to be physically affectionate with you.  

He doesn't wanna think about his own body. 

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He cums a lot. He is very needy and new to this. 

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He wants to dom you so badly. He is tired of being viewed so childishly. He wants to show you that he is a man now.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

You are his first. He hasn't had the time until he was serious with someone. 

F= Favorite position 

I think he likes reverse cowgirl. He thinks it's so inappropriate and sluty; it makes him feel so good about himself. He gets the best view of your ass while you ride him? Sign him up. 

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

No, it doesn't help his ego. He wants to be viewed very seriously. 

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Groomed, but not always maintained. He would rather make beats than upkeep. 

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Very romantic. He is very attentive during sex. He would not do anything without asking first. He doesn't want to surprise you. He wants you to be prepared for everything. 

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He would masturbate over asking for sex. He is use to his urges being handled that way. He thinks it's pushy to ask for sex. He just waits for the vibe to engage. 

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Anal. I think he would be very into anal. Unless it hurts you too much. He would never push something on you that isn't fun and good for you.  

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Bedroom. He needs to get more comfortable before he can explore beyond that. He thinks he won't be able to perform his best. 

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

He is turned on by everything you do. He thinks you are so sexy. He will hide it very well though. You would hardly know that cleaning the house is porn to him.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

I don't think he has any hard nos yet. He would try a lot. He wants to learn what hes into by hands-on experience. 

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Very shy about it. He enjoys both a lot but is worried about it. He's shy about his dick and his oral game. 

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He likes it all. It depends on the mood. That would depend on how things go or if you ask for something. 

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Very into them. He doesn't understand why it feels better a lot of the time. 

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He is into public places. He would be interested in boardline being caught. He just won't bring that up until he thinks he is better at sex.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

He can't last very long but he's working on it. 

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Willing to try. He would think it's weird at first though. He wouldn't get the appeal until he sees it in action. He gets it real fast then. 

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Very fair but would try to be brat. He would end up hating it though. He would rather give you what you want. He doesn't like hearing you unhappy. 

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Normal. He is quiet to most though. He holds back though. He thinks he shouldn't be the one moaning. 

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

He would buy lingerie constantly. He loves to rip it off your body. 

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Average but thick. He thinks something is wrong with it but it's actually pretty. 

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Very high but you would never know. He has pushed it off so much that he has to REALLY be horny to engage. 

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He can pass out or stay awake. It depends on the mood. 

[nichoswag]

just the two of us, 깊어져 가는 moonstruck

[ an updated collection of all my works ]

[ key ] 🧸 = fluff. ☁️ = angst. 🩹 = hurt/comfort. 💋 = suggestive. 🫂= full group piece. 📱 = text

🍓 - &team

stress / k [🧸🩹]

alone / k [🧸☁️🩹]

sweater paws / fuma [🧸]

cigarettes and moonlight / nicholas [🧸]

red roses / nicholas [🧸📱]

cute / nicholas [🧸]

incentive / ej [🧸]

lullaby / yuma [🧸]

swimming with jo [🧸headcannon]

beanstalk / jo [🧸]

safe / jo [🧸]

pocky / jo [🧸]

couch / jo [🧸]

eyes / maki [🧸]

🫂 - &team reaction to you being cold and clinging to them

🫂- &team reaction to you having a nightmare

🫂 - &team reaction to you having insomnia

🫂 - petnames &team call you

🫂 - soft intimate moments with &team

🫂 - cuddling with &team

🫂 - &team reaction to maki having a younger girlfriend

🫂 - k, nicholas & maki as boyfriends

🫂 - &team + age preferences in dating

🫂 - what your contact is saved as in their phone [📱]

🫂 - asking situationship!&team “what are we” [📱]

🍓 - enhypen

flirt / heeseung [🧸]

niki x shy mc reader [🧸]

🫂 - soft intimate moments with enhypen

🫂 - asking enhypen to kill a spider

🍓 - riize

tummy / anton [🧸]

🍓 - zerobaseone

reassurance / hanbin [🧸🩹💋]

sleepy / taerae [🧸]

🫂 - soft intimate moments with zb1

🍓 - tomorrow x together

🫂 - soft intimate moments with txt

🍓 - seventeen

nothing yet!

🍓- stray kids

nothing yet!

📚 - the shelf

[ archive of works of groups i no longer write for ]

📖 - p1harmony

forever / theo [🧸]

📖 - got7

🫂 - how got7 approaches their crush at a party

🫂 - got7 saying “i love you” for the first time

🫂 - got7 mtl hopeless romantics

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.

[blankjournal]

Recommended for our weekly theme!

present

summary: on a day when you ruminate (perhaps too deeply) on death and the passing of time, yoon keeho is there to bring you back to the present.

characters: keeho (p1harmony) x reader

genre: angst, comfort

word count: 848 words

warnings: mentions of death, anxiety and probably cursing

notes included later.

Keep reading

[ohhmydyosfics]

(Keetak) Sympathy 3000-21

It's illegal to alter tech in your basement, let alone harbor a sentient government robot, but neither of those things stop Jongseob. Keeho is going to go grey before he hits thirty.

[writingmochi]

cast: trainee!niki ✗ seatmate!fem.reader (ft. &team's taki (takayama riki), p1harmony's soul (haku shota), niziu's nina (makino nina), and xg's cocona (akiyama kokona))

synopsis: graduation is such a melancholic concept, happy to finally be able to escape school, but sad that people will separate to their own road. it is no different for riki. on his graduation day, he spends one last day with his seatmate of three years before he pursues his career across the sea

genre: melancholia, hurt/comfort, coming of age, slice of life, trainee au, high school au, fluff, angst

based on: music hindia's "besok mungkin kita sampai" (2019) (genre: indie pop)

word count: 13011 (13k)

warning(s): blood, some curse words, mention of bruises, pretty heavy life stuff even for a high school age

message to the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life. (y/f/n) = your full name!

i had to open up my japan 2020 trip memories to remember the whole atmosphere + adding a bit of my knowledge and experiences too. i have to post this in april since it is the right momentum for it and riki’s graduating class is THIS YEAR! i wanna thank @oiwxa for her insight into a japanese high school graduation and its rituals (especially since you rb the og riki as a regular hs student hc like that is very useful) and my friends who indulge in japanese culture for helping with additional insights :D this is also part of my milestone now closed collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

what does one think about when they hear the word “foam”?

a child will imagine a white porcelain bathtub, the one they are sitting in with most of their seated body underneath the water that fills from the bottom of the tub. bubbles made from the mix of the running water and the poured liquid soap to create a magical concoction of science. more and more fill the tub until it overflows and splashes outside, landing on the tiled floor. one can pick up childish giggles as the bubbles caress the skin before it pops, creating a ring of soap on the skin nearest to it. one could imagine their parent beside them following their giggles, helping wash them up after playing in a grassy park and falling on the dirt patch chasing a squirrel. but the child was having too much fun trying to make their hair stand up from their scalp to care about the suds that clean away the dust and soil.

a person who visits a beach will be reminded of the white foam that flows to the coast, pushed by the tides to escape the blue waters. froths created from the combination of nature’s rhythm on the breaking of seawater and dissolving salt or tiny planktons. one can walk to the edge where the land meets the sea and meet the foams by themselves, letting their leg submerged into the wet sand before the incoming wave tries to push you away with its natural force. the water tickles above the ankle as foam created from the physics of it before receding into the ocean along with more grains of sand. the image of it pairs with the familiar crunchy sound of the waves that instantly show up in the head and from the popping of the tiny bubbles.

for riki, it was both of them and one more.

his hand is full of white fluffy foam. the boy's eyes stare at it before turning to the mirror in front of him. he sees the visual of a makeshift white full beard made from the tiny bubbles on the surface of his skin, all of them spread out to the jaw, cheeks, and even around the top of his neck, making him look like a younger version of father christmas if he ever goes to meet the children in spring—a season too late for the tradition and years too old for him as he knew about the truth of his parents being the “mythical man” that gave him gifts by the bed. the boy opens the tap.

the water runs down and cleans his hands, letting the residue drain down the hole before he picks up the item that he’s been learning and still is learning to adapt to at his age. the shaving razor he had that is in the same color as his toothbrush.

the razor glints under the lights beside the mirror. his hand grips its handle, following the steps his father had taught him. the older man told his child that facial hair grows in different ways depending on where they’re located, and how he has to shave it the other way for the most efficient result.

“if it’s on the cheek, then you have to shave it diagonally downwards to the corner of the lips. if it’s above the upper lip, then you have to shave it outwards from beneath both nostrils.”

riki recollects the words accurately as he imagines the visual vividly. how he can see himself in the mirror as his father when the boy remembers he stood beside him, a razor in his own hands as he teaches his son how to shave the facial hair he might not want to own—right in front of the same mirror he stood across now.

shaving your own facial hair seems to be a rite of passage for a boy who is nearing the end of his puberty days. their growing plates are still growing as riki still remembers how he was slightly shorter than his father when he was taught his first lesson in shaving facial hair. now he is taller than his father, either from how many times he has to jump along with the moves of a choreography or run along with a rolling ball on a grassy field.

riki can definitely feel and see the difference. his lanky body now shows more prominent muscles from the physical activities he does, notably his bigger calves from moving on his feet so much. the baby fat on his face has burned enough that his bone structure sticks out as he notices the apples of his cheekbone protruding on his facial features. his voice also deepens as he can still remember how itchy it is, dropping step by step until he can perceive the vibration of his neck’s skin from the moving larynx; a voice that screams baritone or bass, even reaching vocal fry level if he wants to learn the technique.

all of that happens in the three years of high school. if middle school him could witness him now, he wouldn’t believe that that is what he’s going to look like. so many things happened in the past three years that month by month—even day by day—he can feel himself changing physically and mentally.

and today, his three-year journey in high school ends. his graduation day from being a high school student. also, his last day home before pursuing his dream in seoul, south korea.

riki has always been an active kid, but there are two constants throughout his activities in his 18 years on earth: soccer and dancing. one may look at both of them differently, but he has always found a resemblance between the two. the agility of dancing helps control the ball if it’s in his possession. the stamina training he had done to run from one side of the field to another helped him practice longer, thus making him learn the choreographies faster than the other kids.

his hopes and dreams are tied between the two of them. he even wants to continue it to his adult. many of the kids were always asked “what you’ll be when you grow up?” and their answers will be different years later. yet, riki’s stayed the same. always between the two of them.

but he has to choose one to pursue even further, to focus on even in the hardest times he might get in his life.

after seeing korean idols on stage performing in front of thousands of people, he chose to dance. he wants to be like them one day.

yet, that doesn’t mean he’ll let go of soccer that easily.

soccer is still there for riki as a hobby. but he decides to push his dream of being a soccer player behind to train more for his dancing: learning between the street dances and contemporary ones he is still lacking in, yet determined to improve on. it sacrificed him hours of rest time to nail each of the basics in each study, peaking his figure to one of an all-rounder dancer who learned multiple branches of the certain performing arts.

his fruit of labor comes at the right time and moment when he joins an open audition for a big label in south korea that is hosted near here. riki rubs his hand on his pants as he sees a tv playing in the waiting room of a live performance he watched with his own eyes. his figure between all the visible moving lightsticks that decorated the arena, resembling a starry night. they all gave their best to show their craft on stage where people had encouraged them so much to achieve their dreams until that level. it tugs little riki so hard on his heartstrings that he can’t think of his other activities that can bring him the same sense of joy and pride at the same time. soccer seems to be the nearest one but what if he falls out of love and wants to retire early? being a performer means he could also explore other avenues of performing arts if he wants to experiment. though there is a school for it, art is the outlet for human creativity. and each person has their own way of interpreting what they want.

the audition process was nerve-wracking for him; fear flew and crowded the room as riki saw the people he had to compete with. getting tunnel vision from his anxious self, all he could think about when seeing them was how better they were compared to himself. even the lone camera on a tripod makes him nervous as he knows the implications of the recordings being sent to the highest of the higher-ups who have the choice to make his life change forever. as the person before him steps aside, he takes their place and introduces himself like what he practiced. the words flowing out of his mouth smoothly before he let his mind back to when he was alone in the dance studio he called his second home: his actual home is the first and the school’s soccer field is his third.

the fluidity of his body lets him perform the routine he practiced countless times, a routine he trained with his dancing coach that highlights his greatest strengths in performing arts. riki feels how his eyes droop down, letting his movements and muscle memories do the work for him, something he allows as he has been practicing with the lights out.

“when you lose one of your senses, another sense grows to complement it,” his coach reminded him.

riki didn’t even break a sweat when he listened to the unfamiliar song. he just freestyle danced to the rhythm as best as he could to the song he used as a lesson. one has a faster bpm than the other, so he has to adapt with how many milliseconds he has to let his arm stay in the air. in his consciousness, he is confused as to why none of the judges stopped him like the other contestants. many of them were better but stopped earlier that they didn’t even reach the end of the choruses for songs, making his eyes tremble more behind his eyelids. yet, he continued until something stopped him. well, the music does as it fades away.

the process was rigorous when he had to sing and do body shots in another room—alone from the other contestants with people he assumes are higher in the recruitment process. when the papers of the contracts were placed in front of riki, he was halfway through his high school career. a contract to be a trainee in south korea, the place where the performers he saw reside. the headquarters of the leading asian pop culture in the world. riki has to be there to feel it himself.

he had his mom beside him as she read through the contract, a small smile on her face as she tried to understand the best of the contract with the formal and legal lingo that is used alongside the translator they hire for this and her family member who is a lawyer. he had already met up with the trainers before—the judges he auditioned to and more through video calls—and they agreed that riki has the potential to be something more.

he signed the paper that seals the next chapter of his life, agreeing to move to korea when high school ends.

riki returns to the mirror when his hand is unconsciously shaving the foamy area; following a set routine of the parts he has to shave and what section is next. that’s when he sees the thin foam turn pink. eyebrows raised, the sting comes too late as the soapy substance meets his open wound. he instantly flipped the tap open and cupped the water in his palms, brushing the soap substance away as fast as he could, gritting his teeth when he felt the cold liquid caressing his skin. blood flows along with the water as he smoothes the skin down, not recognizing any more slippery base substance when he gently dries his wet area. turning his face, he sees the long thin slit on his clean cheek, right under his cheekbone and going horizontal above the jawline, almost like a secondary of it. the razor he holds is placed under the running water when he sees the translucent crimson color flow down the drain hole.

placing the razor away, he opens the cabinet door for the first aid kit he had always picked up. being such an active kid doesn’t mean that he is immune to injuries. open or close wounded, he has scars of his injuries all around his body. the nasty scar on his right kneecap from when he tripped on himself while playing soccer on an asphalt road, bruises on his forearm from when he slammed himself too hard on the dance studio’s floor, and many more. he once feared that red color flowing on his skin layer, but seeing it so much and its purple-ish-blue companion, he throws that fear away and lets it sink into the ocean that is just a walking distance from his abode.

the first aid kit is filled with the most essential items riki uses to heal himself. his mom always told him to treat his injuries as soon as possible so no nasty virus or bacteria could infiltrate the atoms that encompass his functioning body and destroy it from the inside. and make him worse instead. he always thought the scars he got litter on his skin would disappear one day. time goes on as it denies his assumption. he learned this from biology class where the teacher mentions that the cell tissues of skin cannot get rid of scars because the injuries are being repaired by the same cells that create a scar. the cells in those areas are ever-healing; never going to stop healing because it has been injured before.

another scar to tell, i guess. he sighs as he dabs the wound with the red-brownish antiseptic on cotton all along the opening before he grabs the bandage and sticks it on the wound. pressing it down gently, the bandage nearly blends in with his skin color as it creates an abnormal diagonal patch on his somewhat clean yet acne-scar-filled skin. a minor bump rising because of the white pad on the sticky side. brushing his black hair away from its place that fallen on his forehead, he closes the distinct naruto-themed bag of his first aid kit and brings it to his room.

the navy graphic t-shirt he wore has droplets from the water but not of the blood from the small rectangle mirror sticking on his wall. on his bed lays the final piece of his gakuran as he picks up the suit jacket. riki pushes the golden buttons through the holes in an order, leaving the last button open right at the top so that he looks cooler—and so that he doesn’t get easily choked. his eyes scan his nearly clean room where items are still cluttered here and there. that is until he sees the large suitcase at the leg part of his bed. all the clothes and essentials he has packed to be used in korea are already in there. his flight is tomorrow morning; flying from haneda airport. the open duffel bag of his is still on his bed as he puts the naruto-themed first aid kit inside.

“riki!”

“yes?” his hand on his chest from the surprise calling of his name passing by the barrier of the wall.

“we have to go. we don’t want to be late.” his mom’s voice calls from outside the room. the boy lets the bag rest on the mattress before he picks up his trusty backpack and saunters to the door of his room and opens it, seeing his mom cleaning the dishes and dad slurping on a cup of ramen on the small dining table after leaning almost half of his body. both of them are in an outfit he isn’t used to seeing. only in times of graduations, weddings, or funerals.

“i made one for you.” riki followed his mom’s eyesight to the steaming cup of ramen across from his dad. “your sister has left for school earlier, but you don’t want to be late for your assembly.”

the boy’s long legs reach the seat where the cup of ramen is. its familiar smell enters riki’s senses as he picks up the folding plastic fork and scrumptiously enjoys the hot noodles. he felt the tangled noodle warming up his esophagus while his dad was pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. as riki looked at his dad, he could see himself in him. his dad’s feline-like eyes—combined with his mom’s—make riki’s signature aggressive-looking eyes, like a leopard ready to pounce on its prey. his sisters are also like him but softer as how biology designs feminine features. but, all of them didn’t expect riki’s growth to spurt as he entered high school. he definitely thanked his genetics but also the nutritious homemade food mom made for him full of the omega-3 of fish and the glutinous yet small grains of cooked white rice.

the sunlight enters through the window of the dining and kitchen area where he sees a small garden that is full of little plants and flowers. the beam highlights the light brown of the wood from the last time his family renovated the house fully. small, quaint, yet architecturally smart; with hidden compartments for storage and changing furniture. he can describe his newly renovated home as one of the best things japanese architecture offers. his father learns so much about architectural innovation from watching renovation shows while his mom has the say in interior designing—picking the type of wood to use, placement of the furniture, and others. his new room became his favorite place in the world, with the floor-to-ceiling cabinet and wardrobe combo to put his childhood things he couldn’t bear to let go. though small, he’ll miss his room and the window that overlooks the small one-lane road filled with houses of neighbors he knows.

his nimble fingers expertly pick up the narutomaki along with the noodles from his seafood cup noodles with his chopsticks. the orange-reddish broth colors the inside of the cup as he stares at his phone, scrolling down the news of his favorite player transferring teams—a player exchange that costs millions of US dollars, a japanese player. the player was pretty new for his time, but riki can relate to him so much as the player enters such a big league at such a young age. in a way, riki lives his soccer player dreams vicariously through him. now, as he sees the familiar name transferring from playing in the Premier League to La Liga, his lips pursed as he can imagine the player playing in matches with the likes of many of the skilled players he idolizes in his life.

cupping the cup, he drinks the remaining broth as it warms his stomach, accidentally burping as his dad lets out a giggle in front of him. both of them wait for mom as she finishes up and walks to the shoe cabinet. riki picks up his beaten shoes—his favorite shoes since he bought them in his first year of high school. he remembers how his father agreed to pay him for the pair of shoes before realizing that it’s too big for his feet. yet now, his feet are grown to match their sizes, making them fit him perfectly. he uses those shoes all the time, especially for dancing and soccer. he wore the exact same pair of shoes when he auditioned. but now, he looked at its battered shape with seams ripping from the sole. nevertheless, he wore it to celebrate his and his shoes’ journey every day from when he went to school and the dance studio. riki rather see these shoes break because of his activities than never use them all because of their fragile state.

something he also has to let go like the life he has here to continue to live.

-

climbing up the last stair to the train platform, riki could see the coastline of the beach that is a five-minute walk from where he is. there’s a chugging sound of the moving train from the rails behind him going in the opposite direction of where he will go. behind the curtains of the three and more story high-rises, he can see the light yellow patch of the beach before gliding his eyes to a long grey platform of the small harbour. even with the distance, he can hear the sound of the crashing wave meeting the land. his eyes slowly relax as he stares at the neighborhood and city he calls home and the ocean in its background. the ultramarine spectrum healing his vision along with the lightly cloudy sky as specks of black dots are far at the edge of the horizon. the fishermen fishing for the catches to then be served in the most fresh condition possible in a large franchise sushi restaurant of a small mom-and-pop sashimi booth. the small taste of saltiness in the air because of how close he is to the source.

even with the small islands in his view, he still couldn’t believe that the body of water he was seeing was leading to the largest ocean on this blue rock. how the nearest landmass from japan is the united states with hawaii placed near the middle of the pacific. it always blew his mind whenever he realized how big the world is when he always saw the scaled-down version of it in a map app. he didn’t realize how big japan is when he realize that sapporo is near russia and the western and southern parts of okinawa is nearing taiwan or the phillipines. maybe, the vastness of the unknown world beside his city, the cities he visited, and the little buildings where people he knows do their activities is the one making him rub his palm on his pants so much.

the walk to the train station was short as he viewed people living their lives behind his parents’ footsteps on the clean sidewalk. entrances to office buildings opening one by one, the large signages of buildings that house pachinko machines stay idle as the mini convenience store below it shuts much of its fluorescent light after leaving it on for the night, and sparse numbers of motor vehicles running down the two-lane streets as bicycles are being dominated by workers. riki also found kids his age roaming the sidewalk to their nearest school. some of them wearing their uniforms just fine, while others were still shivering from the leftover winter wind—wearing puffy jackets to conceal them. he could recognize students from the neighboring schools just from the uniforms they were, some wore gakurans but others also used a more modern prep school uniform he has seen looking like the korean ones he found on the internet.

the sound of the distinct train station melody flies through the air as he watches the chugging commuter train on its way to the platform. his head stands out of the crowd as his height helps with easier detection when he identifies the small sliver of color that corresponds with the train line it is. from the outside, he catches a faded reflection of himself with a few people inside; people wearing masks to cover themselves from the flu because of pollen and the cold while others let their faces open as they can smell and inhale the clean spring air. the white LED lights illuminate the train car as he steps in—ducking his head cause he feels like he could slam into something hanging on the ceiling anytime. he turns to stare at himself from the glass’ reflection, how the corner of his mouth turn a bit downwards, which created a slightly intimidating frown. riki knows about what his friends call his resting bitch face, so he mostly gives a small thin smile after wetting his lips, which he did when he notices it on the reflection. his fingertips rubbing against each other to warm himself up before touching the backpack that is hanging by the straps to keep it safe in his arms.

the train is chugging down on the rail as the view outside moves with relativity. riki sees the familiar passing billboards he has seen time to time, changing its every advertisement from new ramen flavors to new animation movies to new j-pop album releases. yet the distinct enormous billboard hangs near a pedestrian crossing of a larger station that he always goes by. people walking about to their destination as the melody sounds every time the train stops at the station, spoken in both english and his native japanese. riki’s being is alert as the sound calls the name of the station near his school, eyes looking at the screen on top of the door as the train stops at another elevated station. the boy could sense how the train wobbled beneath him as he and the others stepped out of the cart. tapping his card at the gate, riki strides along the familiar pavements towards school.

approaching the building complex that has housed him for three years, riki sees the recognizable sailor uniform the girls wears—the same uniform hung outside of his room for his little sister to bring into her room—as he steps forward with every step. calls of names are spoken between one another as he walks closer, some are calling his name which he gives different greetings while others are gathered with each of their friends. in a cautious state of mind, his eyes scoured around to see the groups of parents crowding around their children; some stood up like skyscrapers compared to them. he sensed the bandage on his skin a bit heavier than before when he turned to face his dad, who was staring at him. mom is out of his sight as he watches his father’s hand caressing his injured cheek.

“from shaving…” riki replies after letting out a light hiss, widening his eyes so he wouldn’t turn away. his dad lets out a small giggle as he pats his cheek, making riki actually retreat and copying him with his own giggles. the smell of the distinct flowers and leaves crowds around him as the sakura petals fall down on the paved road of the school that is surrounded by cherry blossom trees. but different flower species are also showing up in the number of bouquets the graduating class has on their hands. the sakura pinks being the background contrast with the whites and yellows in the bouquets. that is when he found a single person who has purple flowers in their bouquet. lifting his head to see the owner’s, the corners of his lips rise just from identifying the familiar face.

you are clutching the ends of the bouquet your parents have surprised you with. your own backpack hangs on your shoulders as you hug your father, seeing a little red panda wearing a graduation cap on the top as your mother asks one of the parents to help capture the picture. posing in between your parents, you let out a wide smile as you hear the familiar clicking sound a few times before you drop from your tippy toes—something you always unconsciously do when taking a picture. you admire the way the white and purple flowers makes the bouquet looks grand yet still screams you—purple has always been and will be your primary color.

seeing the bouquet and the many students makes you wonder if your friends are here or not. you raise your head and chin up, curiously looking at the stream of students and parents gathering at the front of the gate and school buildings before the graduation ceremony begins. that’s when you see the familiar tall boy who was always sleeping on the table beside yours whenever both of you were in class.

“riki-chan.”

he can follow your mouth’s movement, grinning when he picks up even a small sample of your voice on the other side of where he is. your voice calls to him like a siren as he takes one step forward. that is when he felt a hand slapping his back as riki could already guess who it might be.

“shota! i almost choke.”

riki hears shota’s infamous giggle as he turns around, finding him with his eye smile as he wraps his arm behind the boy’s back, “come on, niki. don’t be so serious. we’re graduating today.”

“i know,” he replied. he wanted to return to your presence once again when he let his eyes squint and something flinch to grow on his lips. riki watches his father approaching him with his mother as he takes a peek at the yellow-flower-full bouquet she is holding, knowing that it will be for him as he sees his parents trying to conceal it—even though they failed by how flustered they are to see their son already has his eyes on them.

“ta-da!” his parents proclaimed as he saw the bouquet in close detail, seeing a few white petals scattering the bouquet as the yellow slowly became softer in his eyes. creating a more pastel yellow than the ones that shock his eyes with how bright the yellow is.

“thank you, mom and dad,” he replies as he carefully picks up the bouquet and cradles it in his arms. his father greets shota as he asks the boy questions on where his parents are while his mother finally notices the bandage on his cheek, hearing her clicking her tongue as she tries not to laugh at how clumsy her son was.

shota helped in taking photos for the family, even though his sister is there but it was so hard to reach her when she was already with her friends. he glances at the clock on top of his screen after seeing his chat with his younger sister when he realizes it’s almost time for the graduation ceremony. riki reminds his parents of where the parents will gather as he slowly places the bouquet under the care of his mother. waving and saying a “see you later”, he and shota go to the crowd where the graduating students are—dividing into each class crowd as he is letting the memories of the graduation ceremony replay in his mind from the rehearsals..

shota greeted most of the class students as riki stayed behind, letting the guy feel the fame once more as he couldn’t help but grin at seeing another boy in their usual circle of six—walking towards them with his own grin on his face.

“taki-chan.” riki calls for taki as he did their bro hug. his hand playfully ruffled his dyed locks as he commented, “you’ve already bleached your hair?”

“yes, let’s just say that it’s my graduation gift from my parents. i have to look stylish when i moved to germany for university. how about you, niki? why do you even have a bandage on your face?” taki playfully poked riki’s face as he turned his head, wanting to bite the finger like it was a clawing game for making him sense the reminder of the pain of the cut skin.

his circle of six has two rikis in them. so, to differentiate them, they use their first syllable from the last name as their new nickname during their high school: creating the unstoppable taki-niki duo. taki is also part of riki’s dance studio, but he’s doing it more as a hobby than a career like what riki is doing. shota, on the other hand, frequents the arcade during their high school times. in the nearest arcade from school, he has a high score in playing the arcade’s taiko no tatsujin; even having a pair of specialty gloves he said could help with the grip of the drumsticks. his love for rhythm gaming also shows in school when shota showed riki his device when he plays osu!—the game that successfully gets taki actually after he is numb to it by dancing to hip-hop and b-boying.

“there you guys are!”

the three boys all glanced to the side to find the three girls had completed their circle of six. kokona stands in the middle as he catches her pouting face with her hands on her waist; one part of her hair is already highlighted and even riki can notice she is wearing a slight faint of eyeliner on her eyes. beside her, he sees you with your wide eyes-small smile combo, and nina who is playing something on her phone.

kokona is the musician of the group—"a born-to-be musician" as she likes to call it—as riki has always found her making lyrics upon lyrics, from the most poem-like to outward disses as he knows she can beat him in a rap battle if he wants to. nina is the brains of the group. having mixed parents like shota makes her able to speak in four different languages, but she is also academically smart as she is always representing the school for a social science olympiad and she spearheaded the economics club in school. and, you. you are the artist of the group. every time riki meets you in class, you always have a manga on one side and your sketchbook on the other as you try to read and draw at the same time, making the characters in the manga you are reading on the sketchbook in your own art style.

riki is lucky to have his circle to be as creatively well-versed and supporting each other’s endeavors. they were the first ones to know that riki is now a trainee for a label in south korea. and they couldn’t have been more proud as shota even gifted him his old korean language 101 books for him to start his language learning early; even adding a few korean terms the boy learned from his mother as riki tried to familiarize himself with them.

his homeroom teacher, mister terada, reminds them to stand in line according to their last names instead of seatmates, making all six of you scattered as riki stands with a boy in front of him and a girl behind him. he could hear the coordinator’s voice slowly letting the classes in one by one into the hall where he has seen his parents are in—seating at the bleachers at the top that are lining around the open middle area. riki could sense his legs being numbed as he didn’t know how long he had to stand up when he felt your touch on his wrist as your line was beside his, holding him up as you let out a pout. when it’s his time to enter the hall, he basks in the large space to see the parents sitting in the bleachers surrounding the students. said students all sit at their assigned seats from the rehearsals as riki recalls his path when he'll be walking to the stage to get his diploma.

the assembly finally started and both the boy and girl beside him started to chuckle when he had to cover his mouth to let out a huge yawn. the tiredness of packing his stuff for his later flight last night got into him as he just wanted to be his class’ turn so he could get his diploma and maybe take a few minutes of a power nap. he could hear nina asking for him a few seats away, watching her discreetly pushing her hand out. he reached his own as he felt something on his curled palm. opening it up, he found a small wrapped mint candy that he recognized as a staple of nina's as their “awake pill”. the spicy mint taste makes his nerves alive and aware as he sees the first few classes already getting their diplomas. he had to remind himself of all the rehearsals he had done after the exam for the past two weeks—the correct place to stand while waiting in the line, the etiquette and who to shake hands with, and where you pose for your graduation photo.

riki graciously stands up and stretches his tired body from sitting too long as he walks to the path he had track with his eyes and is currently in the line awaiting his turn. he spots kokona already sitting down with her diploma and also shota who is walking to sit down on his seat. step by step as more and more names are being called, he is now one step away from the short flight of stairs to getting his diploma.

“nishimura riki.”

his name is called as he puts out a smile he has been learning while walking across the stage, bowing deep and shaking the hand of the principal before meeting mister terada who he gives another bow to before he receives the diploma with both of his hands. he turns towards the end of the stage and poses for the camera at the end before sitting down, looking up at the bleachers as he can catch his parents’ voices, cheering for him.

yet, for him. finally, it was time to get a nap as he awaited the last homeroom of his high school career.

-

thud.

thud.

thud.

that’s what riki picked up before he leaned down to grab his usual drink from the vending machine’s slot at the bottom. his backpack has been placed once again on his back after he met up with his parents when the assembly was done. he really had a pretty good nap before the boy beside him shook him to wake up when the ceremony comes to an end with the last hurrah from his juniors—seeing his younger sister too as riki chuckles when they both catch each other’s eyes. too many people were crowding the floor when the mc said it was over over, but he knew he will reunite with his friends once again after fulfilling the parchedness of his esophagus.

straightening his back, he felt the weight of the bouquet fall down and rested on the bottom of his bag alongside his diploma as he awaited for the final things to do here: cleaning up his shoe locker and one last meeting with the homeroom teacher about his career sheet. his parents had long gone home and he had already done the nearly complete family photo with his younger sister. riki glanced at the view behind him as he saw a few kids playing soccer in their 30-minute recess time—he could see himself in them as he either helped in attacking towards the goal or defending it against his friends. 30 minutes that seemed like a lifetime when he was there to feel it himself now appears so short as he sees it from an outsider’s perspective.

“boo!”

riki turns around in a whiplash, almost spilling his drink from the bottle before he pauses and calms himself to stare at you. your purple backpack sways alongside your own movement as you laughed—even making you nearly folded yourself to get a grip on your knees because he was too funny. your laughter dies down as flip your backpack around to put your diploma inside the main pocket.

“thought you’d be here,” you mumbled, pulling out your wallet from the bag as you approached the vending machine. the backpack hangs only on one shoulder as you plunge the coins in and press the button of the drink you want.

“you always get a drink when you’re sleepy.” you then added, making riki chuckle.

it’s a habit of his he had always overlooked but, somehow, you remember. once in class, he had been taking a huge nap during japanese history class as he let the thick textbook cover him. he had a very late practice session for a choreography because he hadn’t nailed each move—maybe because it was near the exam time or whatnot. yet, no one seems to wake him until the end of the period. lifting his head up groggily, he looks at his classmates who are eating or talking with each other. that shock coming from him made the thick book fall as he heard a snicker coming from one of the crowd. riki sheepishly smiled as he wanted to crouch down to grab the book when he finally noticed the light-colored soda on the edge between his and your desk. the brand is his favorite, yet he thought it might be yours. but with the way the bottle sits behind the line between yours and his desk, he knew that it must be for him as he unconsciously swallowed his saliva; picking up and cracking the bottle lid open as he sipped the soda before going to his usual hangout place with the rest of the six.

he picks up the familiar set of thuds as you lean down and grab your purchase—the same brand yet different flavors. he watches you as you playfully shake the bottle, seeing the foam forming from the chemical reaction as he remembers what you say: “i like the soda fizzy.” but it is also like you that you are not careful when you open the bottle, seeing the pastel-colored foam flowing out of the cracks and landed on the pavement before you instantly gulp nearly a third of the bottle.

you let out a huge aahhhhh as you felt the coldness of the soda trailing down into your stomach, looking behind the color-glazed bottle to catch riki with a small smile on his face, but no movement in his eyes, gazing at you—making blood flow towards your cheek.

“hello? riki-chan?” you waved your sticky soda-stained hands in front of riki’s face before he seemed to snap out of it. that’s when you finally notice the little bandage on his cheek, spread wide right underneath his eye and cheekbone.

“what happened?” you softly poke your finger against the bandage, making riki back off as he looks away, eyes moving so rapidly before he lets out a small smirk.

“pressed my shaving razor too hard. it bleeds, so… yeah. gotta have to be reminded of that whenever i see my graduation picture now,” he told you in such a nonchalant manner, making you let out your own chuckle.

“you look like those bad boys i’ve seen on high school animations… you just need your lollipop and done!” you tuck the closed soda bottle beneath your armpit right after you say that.

“aren’t i a bad boy, though?” he raised his eyebrows, mimicking those bad boys you described by poking the tip of his tongue towards the inside wall of his cheek—as if there is a lollipop there.

you scoffed, “you? nishimura riki? a bad boy? bah…”

laughter falls out of you because you can’t seem to see him in the bad boy role. sure, he being a former soccer player and a dancer makes him popular with other people. you remembered near valentine’s day this year that many girls—including your juniors—asked you about his favorite candy or chocolate brand and flavors so that they could give that to him. some even leave gifts to you so you can give them to them and you are obliged to give them because you don’t want to experience the wrath of a teenage girl; you know that feeling too much yourself. yet, riki seemed to be more nonchalant about that, dividing the chocolates into the rest of his circle and not really giving anything back on white day—except for giving you, nina, and koko-chan different popin’ cookin’ sets you recognize costs money.

maybe he is a bad boy after all because of that. but, to you, that is his charm. riki doesn’t seem to be someone who is trying to please what society asks of him. he should’ve felt proud to get so many gifts for valentine’s day, but he doesn’t, and he is not afraid to show it. he has this sense of agency in him to know of what he is seeking even at such a young age, and to him, it is dancing.

“we don’t want to be late.” you get a last glance at him when he nods his head, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as he leads the way toward the locker area.

riki views some students replacing their outside shoes with their indoor slippers as he had done the same, tucking in his battered-up shoes inside his locker as he had to remind himself to bring the slippers home instead of putting them in the locker. or maybe it can be a gift for the first-year junior who is going to be assigned his previous locker for their shoes. that’s for him to think more about because he still sense he has time to think about it—the day felt both fast and slow at the same time.

the hallways are as clean as ever as he and you climb up the flights of stairs toward your homeroom class. his eyes gaze at the ever-changing properties hanging on the wall, yet he can definitely remember what it looked like when he was first here.

the newly painted wall now has chips of paint fallen off to show the dried concrete. the bulletin board where each club is advertising their project changes with every new administration. some plants he had first seen as sprouts now grow into a beautiful shrub. with a few of the existing shrubs died because of various reasons. yet, the look of the hallway still is the same as he could pinpoint places he had touched before: he had leaned his body against those set of windows, he had taken a peek inside one of the classrooms as he awaited taki to come out of the class, and he had also sat down on the floor there with his circle to their bento boxes because their usual hangout place is being renovated.

riki reached the handle and slides the classroom door as he is greeted by some students already sitting there, hearing the same roar as you step inside behind him. his eyes landed on the seats where you and he had sat for the past year, empty and inviting to both of you as you gazed at your classmates with their own bouquets (if they have one) and definitely their own diplomas as you watched them still admiring it. your eyes gazed to see the rest of your circle already in the classroom as you placed your backpack to hang on the seat and immediately walks towards nina, asking if she has any wet tissue.

“what took you so long?” riki heard shota’s scolding from the seat in front of him as he placed his own backpack beside his desk.

“didn’t expect for all of you to be here already. so (y/n) and i took our time,” he answered so honestly, hearing taki’s snicker beside shota as he was eating a snack. riki sits on his chair as his hand reaches for the cupboard underneath the desk in front of him, tapping his palm against the surface to recognize if he has any leftover items he hasn’t brought home. that’s when he felt sheets of paper that were united by a paper clip. he pulled it out, seeing the dusty paper of what looked to be a musical notary for his music class exam.

he remembered it was a final group project for the music class, and he had to do it with all six of the circle. riki remembered all the music lessons he had learned from his brief training with the trainers as he helped the group create their own song. shota in the drums, taki on the bass, nina on the guitar, and you on the piano whilst kokona and riki sing along with koko who uses her lyricist prowess to make a song that is seemingly about friendship and farewells. if riki hasn’t been accepted by his south korea agency, he would definitely pitch the idea to all of you to create a band. maybe all of you can be the latest sensation japan will meet on those shibuya crossing’s digital billboards.

yet fate says otherwise.

riki’s nose itches as he dusted the paper as the specks of dust floated towards the ground, looking at the clear version of the notation and even his own scribbles as he remembered how kokona berated him for not being able to match her melody—"i’m a dancer, koko-chan. not a singer." “but you’re an idol trainee. surely, you can sing.”—before carefully tucking it into his bag as he pulled the bouquet out of the bottom and let the bag open because he just knew that his whole backpack would smell like it if he kept it close.

looking towards the surface of the desk, riki sees a shadow standing menacingly in front of his desk. the shadow slides the glico’s pocky box in his vision. his head shifts upwards as he sees nina holding two more boxes of different flavors, making him look to his side to detect both you and kokona already having your own pocky with your own differing flavors.

“my gift to you all because i know i won’t be able to see you much in america.” nina says after putting the rest of the boxes in front of taki and shota. he could hear the two boys coo and send her gratitude before grabbing the boxes and opening them to ravage them for themselves. riki finally took a closer glimpse of yours as he finally noticed how both of your boxes are green-colored.

“did she give us the same flavor?” he mumbled to himself, yet he mumbled outwardly, making you shift your head and face him.

“i think our flavors are similar, let me see.”

you gently grip the wrist he is holding the box with and bring it beside yours. riki examines how his box has a dark chocolate gradient on it while yours is fully green, trailing his eyes down to read the flavor name on the front of the box.

“see, yours says green tea while mine is rich matcha.” you say what you observed as he can’t help holding back a giggle as you seem to unconsciously play around with your lip after you say the word “matcha.”

though purple is your favorite color—matcha is your favorite flavor. you have always been seen with matcha-flavored everything if you are given a chance. matcha lattes whenever all six of you visit a cafe, matcha mochi whenever you buy mochis, or matcha roll cakes when the gang is trying to buy something inside family mart. it’s no surprise nina gives you that, but why did she give him a similar, lighter version of it?

whatever, let’s just eat-

the sliding door opens and behind it, the figure of the class’ homeroom teacher appears. everyone, including riki, is applauding him—slightly drops the box on the table as he didn’t get to rip it properly. mister terada slowly steps inside, a surprised face on his face as he slowly walks to stand by the table in the middle of the class. he is carrying a large box with both of his hands as the holler continues, which is followed by whistles before he places it down on the table. mister terada raises his hands and slowly pushes it down as the volume follows.

“settle down kids. this is our last homeroom meeting.” mister terada says as riki gazes at the open box, knowing that it’s probably the yearbook that he had shot the photos for in january. he remembered that day cause it was still cold as heck. many of his classmates brought their own properties for the shoot, yet riki only wears his gakuran with a loose button and his trusty shoes—the black and white soccer ball is being lent by the committee because he has and wants to represent soccer on some sort so that he won’t forget.

“today, i’ll be giving you your yearbooks and also recapitulate your career sheet to see how each has progressed. i’m sure by now you have picked to focus on one of the three choices you made from those you picked in your first year to pursue.” mister terada stated as he started to call each name in the student's list, starting with the class president.

the giving off of the yearbook is also followed with a mini consultation of each student's progress. yes, right in front of the class, which can lead to embarrassment if they can’t keep up. but so far, everything still goes according to their plan, some even find themselves straying from their primary focus to explore something new or getting caught in something that becomes their infatuation.

most of his friends that have come forward and got their yearbooks have spoken about the same thing that they have spoken about just between the six of you: kokona is going to music school, nina is going to america and studying macroeconomics, and shota is pursuing game development. then, it was time for his turn as he heard the calling of a certain nishimura riki.

“that’s our idol!” he picked up taki's shouted words as the rest of the class laughed. everyone knows just how much riki likes to dance. he had shown his skills numerous times in the school’s talent shows either alone or with taki as the riki duo that they are. so it isn’t also a surprise for his classmates to find out he had been accepted into a label in south korea that has been throughout his school—courtesy of taki, as he is the one that always spills it.

it even created a whole discussion on why riki picked a korean label instead of japanese one, but one thing is prevalent in the discussion: the korean idol industry will see his dancing skills as more valuable than in the japanese idol industry. it’s just the way those industries goes honestly. but riki also wants to appreciate the korean idols that inspired him to be who he is right now; especially with the existence of japanese people in the korean idol industry and how the numbers are still going up.

the class seems to unanimously sing yoasobi’s idol as riki playfully does the gesture in the viral dance challenge as he now stands in front of mister terada. bowing down to greet him, he picks up the yearbook with two hands as the teacher asks, “how is it with your idol training?”

“it’s going good. i’m actually already planning to move to seoul after graduation so i can train better and have a higher chance of debuting.” yet, riki didn’t mention he will actually move tonight.

“well, we can’t wait to see you on the world stage, riki-kun. i love how consistent you are with it and i sure hope that your consistency could also inspire the juniors to follow their dreams.”

“thank you, mister terada.” he bowed his head once again before returning to his desk as mister terada called for the name after his. he playfully opened the yearbook and skimmed it before landing on his class. his fingers flip the paper to finally open to the page where all six of his friends are—because they shoot their pictures together. riki’s photo is the one where he had all the gakuran buttons off from their respective slots and he is holding the soccer ball against his hips.

“look at that, a very bad boy of a manga.” he could hear his thoughts speaking to him in your voice as he wished you acknowledged that. he also moved to the superlative pages as he could remember his same-year peers and juniors him in the running. he didn’t expect to win most changed by his peers. maybe it is because he has his growth spurt as he could tell that he might even grow 10 centimeters whilst in high school. but also with how his voice changes because of puberty and how his style changes to accommodate his interests, including more exposed yet baggy clothing and the clip-on earrings he likes to wear.

“(l/n)(y/n).”

riki heard the scrapping from the chair beside him as he watched you standing up and walking towards the front of the class. though you haven’t fully spoken about what you wrote on your career sheet, being a mangaka is what everyone knows that you wanted to be. your illustrating prowess has always been shown in the festivals the school made yearly, whether it is when you helped with the class’ food market by creating brochures and banners or when you even opened an illustration service where you drew students and teachers alike for them to have. it seems that you’ve got your life in line alongside him. and that’s why it shocked him to listen to what you’ve answered to mister terada’s question.

“yes, my progression with my university application is great. i’ve been accepted as a student in the international relations major in kyoto.”

riki’s eyes enlarged because he can’t believe what he is hearing. he turns his head towards his friends who are also looking at each other in quick succession, all of them having confusion on their faces before returning to you who is smiling like you didn’t even feel the quake that shook your friends’ beliefs about you. as you walked to your chair and look around at each of your friend’s face, you give them a tight-lip smile. yet, all of them hesitate to ask you why you choose international relations instead of design or art school. they have to respect your choice just like any of their classmate's changes.

the revelation shocked riki the most as he thought that you had trusted him enough to tell him everything. he has been your seatmate for three freaking years and you have grown up together since the first year. he had always seen you drawing in sketchbooks you bring in class, even ignoring some lectures so you can focus on drawing and reading manga. sure, he can see you must picked studying social science for a reason but he thought that—maybe just like he is as you both are creatives—you just don’t want to do math and natural science like he is.

the number of students without the yearbook dwindles as every desk has one on top of it. mister terada stares at the group he can call his kids while mumbling, “i’m so proud of all of you. hopefully you can continue to grow and be impactful towards society-“

“wait, mister terada!” the class president shouts as she scrambles to get something underneath her desk to then watch her pick up a new bouquet. “this is our gift to you so you also have your own bouquet alongside us.”

riki remembered when the class treasurer suddenly asked him if he wanted to contribute to gifting a bouquet to mister terada during the class’ yearbook photoshoot. he gladly accepts it as mister terada is the nicest homeroom teacher he had throughout high school. some of his other homeroom teachers are unnecessarily harsh towards the students and even shamed for not following through with their career sheets—knowing that teenagers also can get stressed too in doing so. mister terada is the only teacher riki can comfortably consult about his choice of being an idol. at that time, he was contemplating if he should audition for one or just focus on becoming a professional dancer. yet, mister terada’s push also helps contribute to him filling in the audition form.

mister terada received the bouquet from the class president as he stared at it, his eyes glimmering before saying, “thank you so much. could we get a class photo with all of us?”

the students are standing up as they try to set their places. one of the student’s parents, who is watching the class outside from the hallway window, steps in to take the picture. riki stands beside you, taking a peek to see you already in your pose as he can’t help but put his hand on your shoulder. what’s wrong with friends of the opposite sex being touchy with each other anyway when he had seen all the different hugs and leaning against shoulders between the six of you?

as the click of the phone camera taking the picture rings and dissipates, it’s followed by a chorus of thank yous being thrown around as some students hug each other. he is busy too, as some of his classmates are trying to take a few last selfies with riki before he becomes famous—making the rest of the gang just snicker from the side.

“i’m going to miss you guys,” shota spoke as all six of you were huddled in the group hug. one last warm hug before all of you are going to your separate ways. riki also should go back home to rest up as he will go to haneda airport later but when the hug separates and all of you six are promising to catch up and communicate in your line group chat, he is trying to keep up pace with you who is tidying up your purple backpack.

“(y/n)-chan.”

“yeah?” you looked up from the backpack after zipping it up, wanting to grab your drink and the pocky that you know you’ll be eating on your way home. yet, with the way riki is looking at you; you know he is trying to let something out.

“do you wanna hang out on the rooftop? for old time's sake, as it is our last chance.”

you held down your smile, knowing that you also didn’t want today to end so early.

“yes. let me text the others in the group-“

“just,” his voice cuts yours, “just the two of us.”

you watched as his glittering eyes told you something, telling you to follow him as you could definitely feel that something was hanging that you had to speak about. and you knew it was about the changes in your plan for the future, especially as you confide with riki so much of your dream in creating your own manga series.

putting the straps on your shoulders, you point your chin towards the door and say, “ok.”

-

the breeze comes rushing in even if you stand behind riki’s figure, blowing your hair as his figure turns into a silhouette when meeting the afternoon sun. you step out onto the concrete ground as you glance at the half wall circling around the perimeter, seeing a few chipped-out paint coming off from said walls before you turn around to be greeted with the rooftop garden. the rooftop that you and your friends have always been on since your first year.

the rooftop is a somewhat famous destination per se, but only the people who are brave enough to trudge against the ever-changing weather could remain here even within the three terms. so that’s why only a handful of people can call this rooftop their hangout place—other than the back of the school or the cafeteria. you glance at the shorter half wall near the garden, the place you and the rest of the six usually hung out at; ate lunch at, doing homework at, and spending your free time at. you can even remember when you initiated the circle’s “logo” as you write your name in an arch, making the others write their own to create a full circle following the curve.

you’re going to miss this place when you’re in kyoto. you’re going to miss the friends that you meet here.

stepping in front of you as you follow, riki approaches the short half wall that is also acting as a multi-use bench, eyes taking a glimpse at the garden’s chlorophyll coming back after winter has frozen them up. insects that seemed to be brave enough to fly this high are visiting here, carrying the pollen for the plants to grow faster. you follow his movement as you sit beside him, gazing at the beautiful view behind the half wall of the sky as the sun is on the way to setting on the west horizon.

riki reaches for his pocky as the sound of the box ripping is heard beside you, making you take your own opened one as you finally rip the plastic packaging open that separates you from the delicious cream on a biscuit stick. yours were more green than riki’s—hence the “rich matcha” flavor nina gave you. silently, you both take a bite of the stick that you pull out. your taste buds are overwhelmed by the combination of the matcha-flavored cream with the matcha-flavored biscuit stick. you look between the front of where you’re sitting to peeking from the corner of your eyes as you see riki doing the same, making you hold back the chuckle before awkwardness comes to remind you quick, making you finish your whole biscuit as your hand reaches inside the aluminum bag for another one.

“you said you want to be a mangaka?”

the breath that you are holding is slowly dripping out, knowing that your intuition is right as to why he brought you here.

“i thought we were gonna fulfill our dreams together…” riki’s voice seemed so cold—even colder than the leftover winter wind in spring.

your facial muscles twitch, maybe it’s because of the sudden sensitivity your face felt the breeze or is the answer that you don’t wanna think about suddenly popping into your mind. yet, when you turn your head—forcing yourself to be brave—you find riki already staring at you. his piercing eyes making goosebumps rising on your skin as, even through his eyes, you can read what he is telling you. you’ve drawn and seen characters in those eyes, but feeling it in real life feels different. much more hurting. much more loathing.

you try to think of the words that you remember you discussed with your parents as you talk about the future, as they’ve reminded you of how dangerous that industry could be—"many animators are crunching their hours. we don’t want to see you like that."—and the fact that they knew, they knew you couldn’t be creative under pressure makes you rethink it. and here you are, trying to explain that to your number 1 supporter, just as you are to him in his dancer-now-future-idol career.

“i, i don’t know if it’s viable for me…” you started, glancing between the pocky box you’re holding and him as you let out a sigh.

“then choose something else other than an illustration, like, i don’t know, painting? graphic design? you like those, right?” you can hear the way riki’s throat is getting hoarse as he speaks, how he is gritting his teeth when saying those words before he takes another stick from his pocky box and takes a bite. the muffled crushing of the biscuit is much louder than when you both are eating it.

“i have to think about my future, riki. you do know i like history and geography and international relation calls to me the same time as a career as a mangaka.” you said in nearly the same tone, not wanting to hold back as you can’t believe just how one-sided he seemed to think of you. that you’re not more than just an art kid in his eyes. “just like how you pick between being a dancer and a soccer player.” you said the last sentence, voice getting lower until the sentence ends near mumbling. but you know riki’s listening.

this is now the correct time for you to pour why you hid your choice from him.

“don’t you know just how dangerous the animation scene in japan is? people are overworked to churn out season upon season nearly every year. being an independent mangaka is also hard when you have to fight against the big guns in the industry. though i’m good at drawing, i don’t know about my writing skills-“

“you’re writing skill is perfectly fine.” he cuts your tangent, pivoting his head back towards you, still not stopping you from continuing.

“okay, but people are suffering there and if i join that system, i know i’ll be suffering too.” you rub the bridge of your nose near the corners of both of your eyes, pressing down on it as you don’t want a single tear out. not right now when you are trying to defend your choice. you’re willing to let out different words just to try to make him understand.

“and if i’m going to school in international relations, that doesn’t mean that i’ll be giving up on drawing. maybe i could join an organization or event there that needs someone to illustrate stuff. maybe i could try doing freelance whilst also working part-time in some convenience stores near tourist spots in kyoto. that doesn’t mean i’m going to easily give up on that dream, it’s just i’m taking the longer way.”

riki held his breath as he heard your reasoning, the way the look of your eyes seemed to dwindle but also increased in sparkles as he couldn’t figure out what feelings you were trying to say. anger? sadness? satisfy?

but when he felt your hand reach to hold his, he knew that you now want him to, at least, believe in you.

“you don’t know just how frustratingly messed up my thoughts are when you said you are accepted to a korean label and to fulfill your dream as a k-pop star.” your thumb caressed his pinky finger, “because i know that it’s going to be hard for me or for anyone in our circle to reach your level of success this young and to talk to you in general because you’re either going to be in korea all the time or you’re going to be layers behind bodyguards when you’re not there.”

you gulp down your saliva, “i’m glad one of us is going to fulfill our dreams faster.”

the last sentence hits riki so much that he has his life’s perspective turn in some random of degrees. he had heard of his parents talking about his older sister who is now in university, about just how different her childhood dream is compared to what she pursued whilst growing up. the same goes for riki, who wanted to be a soccer player before becoming a professional dancer and now being an idol. you must be facing the same thing. he recall how you mentioned you wanted to be a chef during your childhood, how it changed to your love for drawing, before seeing yourself as a diplomat, yet that could definitely change given you have four years of university.

life is definitely much more mysterious than what riki has been accepting. people’s wants and needs change given the situation, from the farthest to the nearest. dedicated people are there but the environment and instinct seem to tell them to change paths. he definitely realizes more that one person doesn’t have a definite answer to what is their purpose in life. is it like him to perform on stage? is it like what he thought you’d do in making a best-selling manga? all of that is a possibility, but that is not definite.

now he knows that the purpose of life is to live. every change of heart is there for a reason that is at the same level as every dedication. that, in life, anyone can define themselves as plural, like his mother who is also a businesswoman, and his father who is also an engineer. like you, who may become a diplomat and an artist. or even maybe him, who can be an idol but likes to play soccer. he had felt that he was erasing one dream for the next. but actually, he is just changing priorities to the one he is focusing on. that is his idol career for him and the international relations major to you—because that dream is still there, now lying dormant.

“you can fulfill your mangaka dream too, (y/n).” your ears perked up at what he was saying. your hand rests and is idle on top of his as you can feel his hand underneath yours flipping unto the other side. “what you said is true. that you can still have drawing as a hobby to help relieve you from school stress, that you can make pocket money out of it. that the place is still there for you even if you change your destination to try something else. and i’m sorry for not realizing that.”

his fingers move to be in between yours before curling in, making you look down at them before at his face, “i don’t know when we will arrive at the place that we want to go. maybe never. maybe someday. maybe even tomorrow.”

riki let out a tremendous sigh.

“but i believe that you can still get there. i believe that you, me, and our friends will eventually reach there,” he spoke his mind, making him turn away his head because of how his hand is randomly holding onto yours.

before he turns his back, he felt your fingers also curling to meet his hand, locking both of your hands as the sky is turning from a blue to an orange, letting you know just how much time you have with him as he had told you, and only you, that he’ll be leaving tonight.

“thank you.” your sentence of appreciation is enough to lift a smile on his face as it reflects on yours.

the scribble on the half wall remains there as you hoped some school officials wash it or paint it some months after today. the sunbeams shining through the window to the hallway where students are finishing cleaning up their class so they can return home. the green grass on the field creating short shadows beneath them as the sun starts to sink. your hand remains in riki’s as you both step out from the school gate for the last time—seeing your juniors, giving you a sad look to see you for the last time, but also a cheeky look after finding your connected hands.

you and him stood in front of the gate as you faced each other. both of your houses are on separate ways as you slowly let go of his hand, letting out a shrug whilst also having a small pout on your face.

“so, this is a goodbye, then? i can’t even contact you anymore because you’re going to be busy,” you spoke out the truth—knowing that k-pop trainees aren’t also allowed to have their phones most of the time.

“more of like a see you later because i know that i’ll be giving you and the rest of us six tickets if i someday hold a concert here,” he replied, holding onto the strap of his backpack as you find his pocky box peeking out from when the water bottle is supposed to be placed—mirroring your own self.

riki’s eyes seemed to glimmer with something as he reached to the buttons of his gakuran, tracing his fingers on the thick gold button as he reached the second from the top, easily popping it off as he pushed it towards you. you looked down and up at his face, not wanting to show the shock on your face as you reached for the button, pinching it between your fingers before you placed it on your palm and instantly curled it up to keep it safe.

his body got knocked back as he felt the arms wrapping around him. his arms are in a pause before he naturally lets go, raising his hands to rest on your back as he tugs you in closer. his mouth beside your ear.

“promise me you’ll remember me,” he whispered, sending chills running down your spine.

“i promise and i hope you do the same,” you replied, sensing a single tear falling out of your eyes as you wiped it away with his uniform.

“of course, i do,” he spoke back. his body seemingly not wanting to let go of you as you pull yourself back, feeling him holding onto your upper arms as you let out a tight-lip smile.

“go on. you have a flight to catch,” you smirked and took a few steps back when you sensed his grip loosen. your curled hand with the button in the grip is resting by your heart while you see riki’s wide smile as he steps backward opposite to where you are going. flailing his arms as a wave of goodbye as you just want him to go back fast so you can finally shed the tears that are wetting your eyes.

you raise your own hand as you wave a goodbye when riki looks at your figure getting smaller and smaller with every step he takes backwards, wanting to run back to you to give you one last hug because he knows he’ll be missing you so much. he hopes that you’ll arrive at your dream tomorrow, but he will always give a word of encouragement to you in his mind even if he is training in the dance studio in seoul starting tomorrow.

he hopes you keep and take care of his second button, just like how you have supported and encouraged him to pursue his dream. and he is now more determined than ever to make you and everyone who knows him deep down proud as he closes this chapter of his life and opens up the next.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stealanity @deobitifull @gandaengene @beomgyumineiro

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[notsoangels]

𝓥𝗲𝗿𝗮’s rules.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 !

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦

one ⋆ i can’t promise that i’ll be able to write every single request. if a request makes me uncomfortable, doesn't follow my guidelines, or it doesn't interest me, i won't write it. i'll politely let you know, by responding either in private messages or by post. mutual respect is expected in any responses or questions.

two ⋆ when you submit a request, please be detailed to help guide my writing. i want to capture your vision accurately, so the more specific, the better. adjustments may be necessary to best suit the story.

three ⋆  all exchanges here must be respectful and considerate. discrimination or hate in any form—racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, or any other— will not be tolerated and will result in being blocked.

four ⋆ i do not write smut for individuals under 21. if you request nsfw content involving an individual under 21, it will be automatically declined. don't be surprised if you receive an disappointing message from me.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤWHO DO I WRITE FOR?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎mostly. . . seventeen, enhypen, bts, p1harmony, ateez & txt.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ﹙+ 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.﹚ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWHAT I WRITE & DON'T.

THE YESYES . . .

scenarios ― this includes drabbles, reactions & oneshots.

kinks ― this includes (hard) dom/sub ⋆ daddy/babygirl ⋆ spitting ⋆ clit slapping ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ clothed sex ⋆ exhibitionism ⋆ praise ⋆ choking ⋆ nipple play (hands/mouth) ⋆ squirting ⋆ cum eating ⋆ creampie ⋆ oral (blow jobs/cock worship, deepthroat, throat fucking, face fucking cunnilingus) ⋆ penetration (fingers, toys - dildos, vibrators, others) ⋆ pegging/ass play ⋆ thigh riding ⋆ breeding kink ⋆ orgasm play ⋆ orgasm control ⋆ chastity ⋆ denial ⋆ edging ⋆ ruined orgasms ⋆ anal play/anal sex ⋆ rimming ⋆ using toys ⋆ using fingers ⋆ breath play (gripped at neck) ⋆ favourite positions ⋆ primal play (biting, pursuit/chase, wrestling, being pinned/held down) ⋆ degradation (slut, whore, etc.) ⋆ voyeurism ⋆ exhibitionism ⋆ body worship ⋆ power exchange (master/dominant/top, slave/submissive/bottom) ⋆ aftercare ⋆ spit

tropes ― this includes opposites attract ⋆ forbidden love ⋆ friends to lovers ⋆ enemies/rivals to lovers ⋆ love triangle ⋆ fake dating ⋆ second chance romance ⋆ marriage of convenience ⋆ slow burn ⋆ unrequited love ⋆ fake relationship ⋆ celebrity/fan romance ⋆ childhood sweethearts reunited

genres ― this includes smut/erotica ⋆ fluff/comfort ⋆ angst/hurt  ⋆ domestic

others ― this includes parent!individual ⋆ rough sex ⋆ teacher!individual ⋆ age gap max. 3 yrs ⋆ characters are portrayed as 21+ or post-timeskip only ⋆ f!reader ⋆ petnames

THE NONOS

scenarios ― this includes roleplay/musing & headcanons.

kinks ― this includes dubcon ⋆ cnc ⋆ bondage ⋆ shibari ⋆ degradation ⋆ spanking, huge age gaps ⋆ knife play ⋆ forced orgasms

tropes ― this includes soulmates ⋆ amnesia ⋆ kidnapping ⋆ no fantasy tropes

genres ― this includes extreme horror that includes gore ⋆ excessive violence non-consensual ⋆

others ― this includes threesome & foursomes ⋆ somnophilia ⋆ face slapping ⋆ racist themes ⋆ sexual assault ⋆ abuse ⋆ specific body type ⋆ self harm ⋆ ddlg ⋆ pedophilia incest ⋆ rape and everything else on that level!

ADDITIONAL NOTES

i. i do not write the same request sent to multiple writers.

ii. i write for only f!reader

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© NOTSOANGELS 2024.‎‎

wanna access my works? go on. . . ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ᯓᡣ𐭩 skip to masterlist┆ vera’s m.list