#pink lake au

[an-army-of-nightmares]

hi :0 this is morgan's regular ask checking on how you're doing and if life has been swell also might i uhhhhhh request either an art for one of your AUs that you haven't touched in a while? and/or a panel redraw of frankenstein in the latest update (12/26/22). or whatever strikes your fancy idk ;;

anyway good to see you have a dentist oc :0 is he really descended from a tooth fairy? /gen

It has! I've recently managed to buy a ps4 so I can play that Spider-Man game! It's not here yet but I am so excited the game looks so cool and I love Spider-Man sm <3 I've also never really played playstation before? So I'm excited to see what that's like!

Had fun with the Frankenstein one <3

Tutu au hasn't been touched in a while bc I still need to finish rewatching the anime and I'm actually really tempted to revamp the au ;)

Fantasy au is a mess! Hasn't been touched because I don't really know what to do with it, but the fantasy au Jekyll canonically has a pet frog now!

Pink Lake just isn't an actual au! It's more of a seasonal "hey it's February time to post lorecore jekyll >:3" thing >:3, that happens to have lore

.

He is indeed! When making a tgs dentist oc the opportunity to make him part toothfairy was far too good to pass up 🦷🧚‍♀️✨️

His toothfairy grandmother is also still alive! Maybe! Toothfairies are immortal in the way lobsters are <3

[aikrathecat]

A while ago, my friend asked me why does Flapjack help out William if he's not his palisman. Well...

I made a promise I couldn't keep, but seeing you here. Feels like I'm getting a second chance.

[diorcities]

𝓣𝒉𝒆 𝕾𝒘𝒂𝒏

haechan x you genre smut content ballet au, graphic violence (a fight, a vendetta, lascivious behavior towards reader), girl hysteria core, alcohol consumption, corruption kink, masturbation, mirror sex, oral sex (both, in different situations), clit/nipple play, anal fingering, anal sex, use of condoms, womanizer!haechan with a soft spot for reader, many biblical references and allusion to demons playing judas lady gaga somebody else the 1975 iris goo goo dolls strange kris bowers (cover ver.) black swan bts (orchestra ver) wc: 20.9k

description: docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan

there was a certain grace in the way your movements were synchronized. or so you thought. tender touches like feather-light against soft skin. breathing mixing in the air between. eyes staring at each other, existing, both, in the ether.

from the way his honey-colored eyes look at you, you might think he could choose you among the other beauties. but haechan is like that: he's made by a dark deity, someone who created his beauty to be lethal, as he possesses the devil's carved grin.

he doesn't belong to anyone. he's bound to leave trails of broken hearts and hysteria in his wake, yet you want him to be yours.

the furtive glances of the others present made you feel nervous, or so you want to believe when you feel your partner's warm, soft hands sit longer on your waist once the music ceases, and you tremble under his touch.

his chest pressed against your back, and you feel it rise and fall quickly and erratically as he catches his breath; a hint of a grin when he slips his fingers away and your breath comes out ragged, trying to suffocate it when you see the headmaster putting a hand to his head.

“quelle putain de merde. you better not look like this at the evening ceremony,” he says. “YOU HEARD ME!!?” the horrific scream made you decompose for a moment, to recover and manage to say in unison with the boy: “yes, sir”.

(quelle putain de merde: what a damn crap.)*

when your ears stopped ringing, you managed to notice muffled laughter under collective breaths. and kai, the dance instructor seemed to hear them too; one look at them silenced them all. however, their looks… you scanned the room nervously. a dozen faces that seemed to drop blades. at you.

“jealousy,” an answer to your question; his breath hitting your ear making your heart skip a beat.

haechan looks down on you but you quickly look away, dizzy. eyes wanting to keep busy to avoid looking at that beauty mark near his mouth. wandering around the room, seeing it now clear as water. jealousy. in their graceful carved features.

the ballet academy was a place of contrasts. on the one hand, there were smiles and applause, praise and recognition, the beauty and grace of the dance. on the other hand, there were sharp teeth and hidden claws, ready to rip you to pieces. accidents, fractures, betrayals. everyone kills for a star, and now your back has a cross.

it was a new season for the equinox and the academy had to present the stellar of the swan lake. the atmosphere was charged with expectations and high hopes.

you were the new one, and everyone knows what happens to intruders. however, your thoughts were scattered in two maybes, was it because you were given the starring role just arriving at the academy, or was it because you were given the starring role with him?

because without a doubt, lee haechan is handsome. alluring. his body is athletic and long. gracious. his dance sophisticated. his face could have been carved by the angels themselves, and there could be no doubt that it was true. with a lethal smile and lips that resembled silk. pink, as if constantly bitten. perhaps for him, perhaps for lovers. and his attitude, he's alluring. a construction that reflects his appeal. he charmed with a sharp wit and relaxed mannerisms.

you're sure that casual encounters and no strings attached are strong pillars in the reason why everyone drools over him; they want to be the first to receive his first love. he's a paradox, a mystery, a wonder. and he knows it.

“you better watch your back, angel,” he says with his eyes fixed behind you, before he leaves with a subtle bow. his absence makes everyone leave, and you can't help but think that most people go after him.

when the room is clear, kai's expression changes. all his fury comes at you in flames as you gather your things to go home, “i was told excellent things about you” he speaks, finding something you ignore funny, “and all i see is mediocrity,” his eyes sweep over you with a mixture of disdain and derision.

his gaze is so dense and heavy, loaded with something foreign to you, that you must look away, but he's got other plans.

kai sighs, and his rough hand reaches for your face. your eyes reflexively close expecting to feel the burning of his palm against your cheek but he only ends up arranging a strand of your hair behind your ear, and the gesture couldn't seem more vile than his words. “i don't know what cock you sucked to get the role, but there won't be enough left for you to keep it if you don't fix this by the next rehearsal.” his eyes are stained with something else when he tries to show sweetness, “will you do that for me, precious?”

something twitches and buzzes in your chest and it's not until you see him leave that you realize you've been holding your breath and all your muscles groan as you relax. trembling hands grabbing your things quickly to head to the shelter of your apartment, mind scheming to devise your improving methods.

you take off your ballet shoes with a grimace; you've barely had time to adjust them the way you like them, but that's not why you feel something pricking your foot.

you drown out a garbled sound when you see sparkles on the sole.

a noise takes your breath away, perplexed, something creeps down your spine as your eyes shoot up to the shadows.

you've checked the room. “who's there?”

your eyes adjust to the silhouette that emerges from the shadows, maybe he didn't leave completely, maybe he's been staring at you in the shadows. and you feel no less terrorized, especially when he smiles lethally.

“d'you need help with that?” he asks when he sees you struggling with your shoes.

“it's okay, i forgot to...-” your words crowd on the tip of your tongue and yet you can't get them out. haechan kneels in front of you, and your finger catches one of the small shards of glass.

he takes your hands between his under your dazed expression, bringing it to his lips where he gently sucks on your finger, then leaves a kiss on the tip and another on the back of your hand. “shouldn't you be more careful?” he inquires then, taking your shoes from your grip, proceeding to smack them onto the floor.

his bemused gaze lands on you when you muffled a gasp, a smile dazzes on his mouth. “sorry, did i scare you?”

“no.” you breathe.

“d'you always look like a frightened lamb or is it just me?” he asks then, scanning your face. you try to keep your expression serene, even though you're about to have a crisis. “did something happen?”

kai's words are still running through your head. “i'm fine,” you lie. “i'm just tired.”

he hums, paying attention to the shoe ‘til he frowns. “you shouldn't leave your shoes lying around, it's dangerous, angel.”

you bristle, is he referring to you maybe because he doesn't know your name? “my name is…”

“i know your name.” he cuts you off, and your thoughts scattered all over the place.

“i think maybe i'd left them, i didn't believe they were going to put something inside.”

“why wouldn't they? you stole kai's attention.”

“did i?” you say, funny. it seemed quite the opposite.

yet haechan doesn't catch it. “hmm...”

you watch him smile slowly. “let's get home.” he holds out your ballet shoes and you feel them in your touch; in a short time he's left them almost impeccable.

when you walk into the bathroom, any trace of him having affected you disappears when you see the murderous glances through the mirror. the silence is tense, and it's broken by kazuha when she laughs with namjoo behind your back once you turn on the faucet and splash the cold water to clear your mind.

haechan has managed to make you more nervous than kai. you feel dizzy, but it feels... pleasant.

you've never been one to attract attention, but looking at the big picture, you'll have to get used to having it very often; you want to continue to have his, especially.

your attention is kept on guard, and your instinct tenses your muscles. you come to the conclusion way later than you should once they encircle you that you shouldn't have turned your back on them.

you don't see where the first punch came from. your head stings and you squeal, hitting something strong, a wall, maybe. a white noise dams your hearing, too stunned to see the next assault of punches.

black haze adorns your vision as a blazing fire bends you in half, breathless when one of them hits hard in your stomach. you feel the world spinning, perhaps it is you when you fall and almost hit your chin on the cold tiled floor.

“who do you think you are, huh? coming in and hoarding everything? new features, new face of the season. i've waited all my life to get the spotlight on swan lake, and you just show up looking stupid and they give you the part? with him?”

you can't believe they're mentioning him. the concept seems bizarre to you and panic leaves your mind blank, you are unable to coordinate to ask for help. you feel dizzy, and nauseous. you have no choice but to close your eyes and receive two kicks that you barely manage to cushion with your forearms on your stomach. “well, look at you. i think i know why they gave it to you, you're such a martyr, beaten to death.” they don't go for the face; they're not that idiotic. instead, they point to places that are easy to cover with tights, back, stomach, head. they'd go after your legs and ankles if you weren't curled up to protect them.

injuries are a death sentence.

when your whole body screams, suddenly everything goes quiet. your body cools against the tiles, until you find warmth in it. your body hurts, everywhere, and you're not so far away from a deadly kiss because your breathing has become shallow and slow.

you crack on the floor, picturing your mother laughing at this moment, your determination to fit in the concrete jungle. you've never been good at fitting in, you are easily blinded, manipulated and influenced.

you crawl as best you can, even if every step is an ordeal. the taste of iron in your mouth as you press your lips together in a last-ditch effort to stand up. no one has seen you, no one has heard you. you manage to walk slowly but surely, even though your belly aches and it burns, though tears threaten your eyes as you pass them in the hallway, feigning innocence as they surround haechan.

he smiles at you as if reading your agony, he rejoices like a spectator watching the sad dying gazelle before it is devoured. you still feel his gaze fixed on you as you make your way to the door and into the blackness of the night, crumbling once you reach the dark.

“hey, mom. just checking in. uh… it's been good, everyone is so nice, and i've been cast as the swan queen for this new season, and…” you can't continue. every step you take feels like daggers sticking in your stomach. walking feels like the worst torture, but the bus stop isn't that far away and...

“need a ride?”

your ears keep buzzing and ringing, the soft rumble of his bike passing unnoticed by you, and you realize that he has been driving slowly for a while when you haven't stopped right away. you think you might have a concussion.

your head doesn't spin a single coherent thought as you watch his eyebrows arch and his dazzling eyes under a black helmet. you move as slowly as your thoughts flow. you've become so light-headed, that maybe, maybe he's smiling at your puzzling. “is it s-safe?” you manage to pronounce, after a while where your eyes wander over the black body.

your eyes shoot out at him when he removes the helmet, and consequently you stifle a sigh. he combs his brown hair, as he rests the object on his knee, a mischievous grin streaks across his angular face.

he hums, “are you scared?”

the bus stop is a couple of blocks away, and it would be quite a process to get home without passing out in pain on the way. but you know that's not the reason you're lowkey giving in; you know the way he looks at you has something to do with it.

“first time?” he wonders.

“is it so obvious?” a hint of pain keeps you from laughing any longer. when you smile, your face hurts like hell, and you realize that it's hard for you to make any expression without feeling like it's breaking in two. your lip pricks, perhaps because it has managed to catch one of their kicks. but you can't help biting it as a habit and then regretting it right after.

haechan does not miss any detail of you. “i've never been on one. but... i'd like to.”

he grins like the devil. “get on.” his hand extends the black helmet towards you, your feet moving closer to him by inertia. it's pretty, black, and shiny. a white stripe that runs across the entire circumference and ends in two wings on the back.

“i like your helmet.” haechan gets closer to you and smiles at seeing you so affected when he helps you put it on. “safe and sound.”

you are surprised at how easy it is for him to read you. the thing is, you don't know if it's because you are very expressive or if he has been looking at you lately to know your mannerisms. “only one helmet, you're the lucky one tonight.”

he must know that his smile has an effect on people, he must know that it has an effect on you. and it is overwhelming.

his hands assisting you when you climb on the back, mind starting to work again when it grips you not finding a way to hold onto once he starts to drive. haechan is totally oblivious to you slicing your brain in an obvious struggle as he waits for you, but you don't have a clue, and it's pathetic, “where should i... where do i hold on?”

you see his profile paying attention to you, humming fleetingly, “on to me,” he simply answers, voice sounding mocking but soft. your cheeks burn from feeling so stupid, until you find yourself in another dilemma again.

even you know how pathetic it would look to hold on to his shoulders, does he really expect you to hold on to his waist? would you dare? your hands glide cautiously, cold fingers meeting in the front of his stomach over his jacket, yet you still feel his warmth poking through you.

he laughs. “i won't be able to move if you hold on like that,” he says.

“oh, sorry...”

“here.” his hands are holding yours for the umpteenth time that night, and you're not sure you want him to let go.

as he guides your hands under his jacket, the movement causes you to press yourself against his back, and you almost squeal in pain if it weren't for your brain collapsing when you feel him making you interlace your fingers, brushing his thumb on the reverse of your palm. “ready?”

you watch him start the bike, and your whole body tenses up and you gasp against his jacket. before you go out like a shooting star breaking through the night, you're sure you feel his body light up because of it.

୨♡୧

your body feels charged with lead when you arrive at your residential complex. the cold has frozen your bones and the sedative effect on your aching muscles almost feels pleasurable. just remembering you just minutes ago on the cold tile floor makes you tremble under haechan's gaze.

he strips your breath away. lights bathe his sun-kissed skin and his hair turns dark as night falls, uncovering his eyes like pits of black matter. your eyes follow the motion of his fingers combing his messy disheveled locs, eyelashes fluttering so delicately, ignorant of your captivated eyes staring at every portion of his tanned, chiseled face. his puffed, pink lips. the golden halo he casts.

“delighted?” he chimes.

he catches you staring at him. a lazy smile blooms on his lips as his eyes soften. “the ride?” he adds, gazing at your lips part open because for a moment you thought he was referring to you encapsulated in a reverie looking at his profile.

“yes.” you reply to both. you hear yourself nodding, “... thanks for the ride,” you hop off the bike, agitated. the charge of energy that the lights and the breeze have given you, buzzing through your bloodstream. “it was fun.”

“glad you liked it.” he takes the helmet you offer him, scanning every move you make with curious, narrowed eyes. your eyes escape his to fix your wild hair and hide more your face. he, of course, sees that too. “have a good night...”

“you're not gonna invite me in?” he utters, turning off the bike and getting off it without waiting for a response.

“in-inside?”

“unless you want to stay here, but it's getting cold, isn't it?” he questions with an arched eyebrow, passing by and going towards the entrance. it takes you a couple of seconds to get your sleeping muscles going after him.

haechan crosses his arms and a thin line adorns his smile as you work on the deadbolt in your apartment. the first thing he does upon entering is leave his helmet on the kitchen aisle and take a look around.

the dim lights of the city outside the window reveal only a red couch in front of an old tv, a coffee table overflowing with chinese food containers, papers and magazines, and clothes thrown away and forgotten everywhere.

“sorry for the mess,” you speak, grabbing hurriedly the tiny piece of clothing he's taken from one of the kitchen chairs to study. a grin wells up on his mouth when he sees you in dismay, “my roommate, she's... out of control.”

“d'you have a roommate?” he inquires, following you to the bathroom. he stops at the door frame to watch you throw the underwear to the laundry basket. his gaze is lost in some part of your figure for a long time that you're afraid a bruise is showing. “yes, she's... out tonight.” your eyes register when he weighs your answer, eyes shining.

“is she a dancer?”

you try to gather words that can be used as adjectives for her, but you only come up with two: paranoid and psychotic.

“she's sort of... a free spirit. i don't know what she does, really. it's a mystery.” she is the mystery. fatal. dangerous. but in some way, she's alluring. “shall i offer you something to drink?”

“wine,” he replies.

your eyes sparkle in amusement, “won't it be dangerous once you drive on your way home?”

he hums, “i was hoping not.”

his smile is enlarged by something you don't know.

you leave him in the living room to make a glass of water. the fridge is almost empty except for leftovers from the night before and a couple of beers. you haven't made groceries in a while, totally consumed by the academy and the piece that you and haechan have to present in a few nights.

you're startled when you see his figure silhouetted by the lights outside lurking in the darkness. “you scared me.”

your heart is pounding wildly in your ribcage when you watch his slim body and relaxed mannerisms approach you and take the glass tightly grabbed in your hands, “my bad, angel.”

you follow him when he gets back into the living room. his long, graceful legs under a pair of dark jeans spill out onto your couch, almost hitting the coffee table so hard for you to reach when you sit down.

his body takes up all the space, letting you grab the single couch next to him. “tell me a secret,” he says, catching you off guard.

“a secret…?” you puzzle. “what kind of…”

“a dark one,” he replies, “and i'll tell you one.”

what does he want to hear? you don't think you have many dark secrets besides your dubious desires. should you tell him where they've done to you or your intrusive pulse wanting to kiss his mouth.

“you're handsome.”

he chuckles.

“i asked for a secret, not a confession.”

your cheeks light up. “it's the same to me.”

he stays quiet, and you're afraid you've bored him. “you're one of a kind...”

“i'm not from around here,” you quietly say.

“i know that.”

silence settles. haechan thinks. and you talk. “maybe that's why i'm not what kai wants me to be.”

“he's an asshole,” haechan chimes.

your fingers squeeze so tightly that it hurts. “i'm just... worried about the piece. what if... what if i mess it up?” the unexpected movement that he makes to get closer to you takes you by surprise. you see him rejoice, getting up from the sofa. “don't let him get into your head, angel.” you take that as a sign he's leaving, standing up from the couch with him as a reflex act.

you puzzle, “why do you call me that?”

he's towering over you, the fragrance of his cologne coming to you with the cold air slipping through the open window, “you're virtuous and moral. nothing like the rest.” he places the empty glass on the table and his eyes return to you. a deep gaze full of palpable and unknown emotions at the same time. “and you're pretty as one.”

you leave him roam the entire space as if he wants to memorize it before sighing heavily while something twists inside you with the flashing thought that you have bored him.

“i am not virtuous.” you follow him to the door before he stops at the kitchen counter. features showing what he's thinking. does it bother him that you are? does he wants you to be like the girls he surely likes?

“the reason kai is like this with you is because he wants you to give him a blowjob,” he says so suddenly and unfiltered that you choke on your own saliva. “i bet you wouldn't have thought that with all the signs.”

he sees you mortified, a blaze of heat rising up your neck, “he doesn't... h-he...”

“he wouldn't? yeah, right.” he scoffs. “the thing here is if you want to.”

something in your chest tightens. “n-no. no.” you see him downplay it. “why would you tell me this?”

“that's my secret. since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs. his thumb grabs your chin in a playful goodbye gesture. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor,” he says the last as he approaches you, chest almost brushing your forehead to take the helmet resting on the isle.

he's left you so groggy your mind flickers when he's advancing towards the elevator. “favor? will i have to return it back to you?”

“not right now, but yes.” he smiles boyishly, before magically disappearing.

୨♡୧

the dawn breaks in the silhouettes of the city when you stop. heart pumping behind your ears, disbursed.

it's been a couple of weeks where kai has been pushing you over the precipice. juggling between the murderous stares and haechan's company.

you are short of breath, and all your muscles scream for rest, but you force yourself to inhale and exhale a couple of times and continue, until your stay in the empty dance hall with the first rays of sunshine that you have ignored while practicing the piece over and over.

kai's words were enough to keep you awake at night. you can't find rest. despite the ache in your body, a rush of determination urged you to join the pulse of the city that never sleeps. buzzing with the obsessive compulsion to show what you're made of: the same matter as the stars.

your heavy breath and vision blur your senses, and you manage to miss haechan's presence, looking at you through the mirror. his features tinged with both bewilderment and wonder; something else burns in his pupils, prompting you to look away before you combust.

he doesn't say anything for a few long minutes where he watches you bring your body to the brink of collapse. it's been a terrible couple of weeks; you've been avoiding the bathroom at all costs, but their determination is harder to dodge as spring approaches, and right away they're waiting for you everywhere.

you check your shoes more than necessary, you pay attention to your surroundings very often. you're alert at all times and it's driving you crazy.

you stumble a step when don't stop haechan behind you, and almost fall to the ground. you quickly shy away from his touch when he intervenes and keep you from falling on your ankle, trying to pull yourself together.

“thanks... what- what are you doing here?” you're used to his hands running over your body when you're immersed in dancing, and for him to take you like this suddenly feels strangely alluring to you. it clutters your senses.

you're sure he wasn't supposed to show up until a little later, but now he's here, and staring at you with amusement. “i'd ask the same thing.”

if he's fallen into your pathetic question like a smokescreen to distract him so that he forgets that you've practically run away from his grip, it seems convincing.

“i knew i'd find you here, if you weren't home.”

“did you come to my house?”

“it's just passing by.”

you comb your hair, catching your breath with the knowledge that he can see you're flustered. your hands massage your tense shoulders. your whole body is in the same state.

haechan walks over and places his warm hand on yours. “sore?”

“a little.” he grins fleetingly.

“allow me.”

he helps you stretch. his graceful, bony fingers exert the pressure needed to make you close your eyes in relief, and when you open them, you discover him looking at you an arched eyebrow and smug grin; he's come so close that his breath gently bathes your forehead when you look down. and it feels too much, not because he touches you suggestively, but because you're afraid he might feel your heart about to jump out of your ribcage when he massages your shoulders until they hurt less. “what were you doing?” he asks softly, gaze searching for yours.

“i was perfecting a few steps…”

“show me.”

your eyes meet his, and he's curling his lips on one side, “i'll let you know,” he proposes, giving you space.

you hesitate. doubts furrowing through your thoughts that you push aside once he dances his eyebrows in a playful gesture. a pleased curve lifting the corners of his mouth as he mimics you when you nod.

you redo the piece and haechan concentrates, eyes scrutinizing you. in the middle of the piece he joins you and you fear you won't be able to continue when he holds you by the thigh; suddenly, being alone with him feels so much worse than when there are people, because then you think about every friction and touch, until you can't take it anymore.

by the end of the first cut you're airtight and a little agitated, looking for approval on his enthralled face. “so?”

he hums, “looks beautiful,” he declares with a smile.

“the steps?...i highly doubt it—”

“you.” he cuts you off. even though he smiles afterward, you want to believe that his constant flirting goes beyond just teasing when you blush.

you begin to believe that the dense weight on your chest is due to the energy transmitted by his gaze.

haechan touching his lips with his fingers, and his lack of response leaves you unsure. “should i be more... sensual?” you don't think you can go further; you've been dancing since midnight.

“sensual?” he articulates, thoughtful.

“kai always says...” you stop when his eyes stop looking at a part of your body and move into your eyes.

“d'you want to be sensual for kai?”

you get stiff, “i-i do not.” you huff, and he sneers. “i'm not keeping up with the black swan. be honest with me.” you ask when he makes a gesture to speak.

“you look dainty.”

“it's not the same as sensual...-”

“it's not that you're not sensual, you should be more chaotic.”

you frown. “the black swan should drive the prince crazy with love, so she can poison his judgment,” he pronounces as he walks towards you. his expression remains serene, almost derivative, and irresistible to look away. “you need to seduce me.”

he stops and fix one of your straps. you follow the sensation of his touch, cupping your right cheek as his thumb stroke you gently. your eyes flutter open and your heart beats fast. haechan gaze at you, and it feels so overwhelming and magnetic that you can't stop looking at his brown orbs, trapped in a spell.

he smiles, “see? am i seducing you now?” he says softly. “seduce me, angel.”

“i can't... i can't do that.” your mind feels fuzzy when his eyes sweep your lips.

“why?”

“i wouldn't know how.”

“have you ever touched yourself?” he prompts, wild eyes widening when you skip a beat. “no?” his fingers grab your chin and force you to look at him, with no escape from his gaze spilling on you as his figure towers yours.

“i just —i've never felt the need...”

“you're really a little angel, huh?”

your face lights up, your eyes flicker from the intensity of his eyes, but you can't stop looking at him, it's impossible for your gaze not to burn when you're looking directly at the sun.

your breath freezes when you feel him playing with the strap of your shirt. a whiplash tingles your skin and awakens your senses when he lets go of the fabric. haechan bites his lip as he sees yours half-open in surprise and shame. “try it tonight.” the spell you're trapped in, lost in his soft touches, and alluring scent is broken when the room begins to fill up.

you bite your lip before you pronounce, “h-how?” your neck looks like it's about to burn and your chest flaps to explode when you see him smile mischievously.

you're so certain, in that moment, that you'd do anything he'd ask if only to be rewarded with that gentle smile lighting up his eyes akin to stars hidden in the dark expanse of the ether.

“you'll know how.” eyes taking on a jovial emotion. “just think of me while you're at it.”

୨♡୧

haechan's pov.

haechan is fucked. he knows it. it is in his nature to want and satisfy the hunger that moved him. unimaginable things in the name of desire. in his wake, sighs, and broken hearts follow him.

he's nothing but obsessive.

the thing is, haechan couldn't find a way to stop hanging around you. an invisible energy attracted him like magnetism, and he always ended up within a few centimeters of your body. he couldn't put into words when he wanted to sink his teeth into you, mark you while he makes you his own. he knew it could be felt buzzing through his pores. and you were so naïve to notice that every time you touched, the bulge in his pants hurt, restrained.

of course he would leave his hands on your back longer, making you grind against him. he was a complete sadistic pervert, getting excited every time you trembled. shit, he lusts after you. it's almost impossible for him to think clearly, driven by desire pulling him towards you.

walking at night as if it's the one who should be afraid of you. looking so fragile, why do you always look like someone beat you to death? so ethereally and mortally pretty. shying away every time he makes a move.

he takes you to your apartment with one thing in mind: to see that pretty face twist with pleasure when he penetrates you hard. but everything takes a drastic change when your eyes sparkle in amusement, before he hears your soft voice “won't it be dangerous on your way home?”

he gribs. he wants to eat that smile. and he craves, equally, for you to eat his, to see your lips in other places of his body. he buzzes, “i was hoping not.”

gosh, you're a bane for sure.

it is pleasurable and at the same time painful to see you so ignorant and oblivious to him. he wants to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation as you dodge every single signal his eyes send. should he be explicit? would you like that?

he leaves your place with an erection hurting from being released. his irritation almost fades when he hears you sigh under your breath when he picks up his helmet and you find yourself on his way, your vanilla scent cluttering his senses.

he almost feels sorry for the men who have run into you, seeing the panorama that awaits them. surely you dissemble and act it out most of the time. haechan can't believe you're so naïve and pathetic. kai's intentions can be seen from the tallest skyscraper in the city and is obviously everyone's knowledge; girls don't shine if he doesn't give them the spotlight.

“since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs, wanting to affect you. his thumb grabs your chin in a condescending way. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor.”

favors? he can think of several, yes. with you helping him with some of his distress.

“will i have to return it back to you?”

“not right now, but yes.”

he fucks someone that night until he aches. a girl who bumped into him in a bar, academia, or on the way to the elevator. sex comes easy for him. and they usually come for more, but haechan gets bored quickly. he's bond to lust life, but he dispatches everyone right away when they become attached.

he scoffs, you wouldn't last long in his head if you could without going insane. the reason he gives you so much thought is because he needs to find a way to get you to agree to him taking you to bed, it shouldn't be that hard when you're already drooling over him. in his mind, everything is twisted and wicked. you don't know what he's hiding every time he smiles at you; he has imagined you many times naked and spread for him in his bed. he's not fond of exhibitionism but he'd fuck you in front of people if you're into that.

his eyes have been memorizing your figure when you don't realize it. the curve of your breasts, your butt, your waist and legs, the shape of your lips. fuck. he can't believe he's thinking about your pretty face contorted with pleasure as he penetrates you hard.

he cums just from thinking of you saying his name. the girl begins to dress up and haechan omits to look at her as he obnoxiously leaves the room and walks down the empty hallway of the academy. stopping when he hears music from the empty classroom.

of course you ignore his presence. it's your quality to be everywhere but where you should. immersed in the dance until you stop for a drink of water and finally see him. your doe eyes opening, dumbfounded.

he can't hide the lascivious desire poured into his gaze, as he prompts you, “show me.”

he finds the setting quite alluring, and fury crackles down his neck as he imagines other men having the same thoughts he has when he sees you dancing like you're made of cotton. touching his lips when they feel sensitive due to the desire he has to rest them on your thighs.

of course he's going to say off-line comments if you keep falling for each one of them. you look pretty like a frightened deer when you get flustered. he likes to know it's because of him.

“kai always says...” that damn name. he feels a murderous calm covering his body. he doesn't want to, he refuses to let that scum even breathe near you.

you're his. no one else's. not even the men you've had before him; he plans to have you all to himself.

“seduce me, angel.”

“i wouldn't know how.”

look at you. not knowing how to seduce him. he wants to know if this façade works with everybody, or is it just with him. or perhaps, you do not know that you do it without realizing it. he's seen you and caught you looking at his muscles, and his lips and he's lost count, just as he has done with his.

all this would be annoying to him if he didn't like the idea of teaching you.

he wants the white swan to be corrupted.

and he'd like to do it himself. he dreams of you crying for him as he fucks you senseless. he can see your face in his mind becoming more and more tense and repressive as he whispers in your ear everything he plans to do to you, the positions he wants to put you in right now when you look at him so innocently. but he's afraid you'll run away in terror, so he's happy to imagine you, for now.

୨♡୧

were you really going to do it?

the night sounds die out under the murmur of the city and the pumping of your heart.

your fingers go down, under your underwear, and the mere gesture makes your breathing shallow. you barely register the murmur of your roommate's music in the next room, muffling your sighs as your digits find the valley of your intimacy.

the slight touch causes you to fists the sheet. feeling how wet you are, just from his words, still hovering over your head like in a spell. your fingers rubbed your clit, small gasps falling from your mouth, ecstatic. circling the bulge to the beat of your heart. eyes shut tight. an electric wave washing you over, and you moan.

your hand cover your mouth as you let yourself be carried away by the wave of pleasure that shakes you. the sweet motion making you bite your lips and muffle your grunts on your palm.

the fleeting image of haechan going down on you makes you catalytic and erratic. something stirs in your belly and you speed up the movement, a pit opens up in your stomach and sucks you deliciously. you want it to be his fingers. soft and thick, entering your femininity, holding you tight, spreading you for him.

desire is almost extinguished and it is little for the craving that plagues you, inserting two fingers that makes your eyes roll as you feel your intimacy burn. gasping for his name, while you squirm.

your hand slides out of your mouth as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching your gummy walls and imagining it's him who fucks you this good, after you made room for his cock in your glistening pussy, making squelching sounds every time you slide your digits back and forth. stargazing. buzzing.

incessant sighs and moans slips from your lips, totally lost in the pleasure of bothering to be silent. the murmur in the next room stops and you don't care, you've lost your mind. filling the quiet room with your desperate whines. you fantasize about your hand being replaced by haechan's, his fingers going in and out of your pussy, touching the exact point to touch the sky with your fingers. his mouth going down, biting, licking.

you can imagine him with his dark hair as night and his eyes like two stars that don't leave your eyes as he makes a path of kisses from your ribs to the valley of your pussy. you can fleetingly feel his kisses on your thighs and his fingers burying in them to spread you open and have a look at your digits thrusting you nice before he replaces them with his shaft.

each thrust his name spilling from your mouth, each flick of his tongue a moan filling the air. your legs spread open, imagined his fingers touching your sweet spot, over and over again. the devastating climax breaking free, your moves becoming more erratic, dancing with your walls clenching around them. a sweet burning remaining in your entrance.

a sedative effect covers your limbs while you see the ceiling of your room disappear and reveal the night sky, starless because they're all in his gaze. regaining your breath as you keep stocking your entrance, squirming from sensitivity. and eager for more.

eager for him.

୨♡୧

kai pinches one of your cheeks a little harder and delights in the uncomfortable grimace that creases your face before you pull yourself together almost instantly. “well, look at that. tu scintilles comme une étoile.” his eyes scan you from head to toe just as haechan breath hits your shoulder, moving closer. “enlighten us once more, golden couple.”

(you sparkle like a star)

keeping up is harder when your body buzzes every time you do it. loaded with energy that overflows through your pores. pure and raw desire. you're embarrassed by how much you long for him to touch you longer when the music stops abruptly.

“thanks for joining us, darling.” kai's voice comes from all sides until you recover from the overwhelming dizziness, watching the girl walk in unapologetically.

“sorry. i slept in.”

you're aware when kai tries to keep the annoyance at bay. he usually doesn't exploit his dark side in first presentations. “you're dismissed for today! see you at the evening. wongyoung, warm up. the rest, take up from above.” the young man gives instructions left and right, that it's hard for you to follow the thread if it weren't for haechan pushing you towards the exit.

you follow him, his broad, sculpted back swaying to the sound of his footsteps. he's enigmatic, everything he does is appealing to you, magnetic. you find yourself almost enraptured by so little, it's very pathetic and at the same time difficult not to be.

“you're cute,” he declares all of a sudden.

his view detaches from the group of ballerinas dancing in a hall.

“why?” you can't find the reason behind it, you can't really fully understand the image he has of you in his head. “i know i'm not very talkative... and i'm a little self-conscious...”

“and you stutter when you talk.... especially when you get nervous... which happens very often.”

“i-i,” you shut up and his eyes glint like elusive fireflies. “have you never been nervous?” you ask, rhetoric.

he denies, “not many things make me nervous, no,” he confesses, “perhaps very, very pretty girls.” he admires when you blush. “although that's not the reason,” he says, watching the night lights outside the academy. “you haven't looked me in the eye all night. maybe it's because you think you'd reveal something in them if you do. something you've done and think you shouldn't have. do you feel guilty, little angel?”

his statement only leaves you dizzy and speechless. the air becomes dense and difficult to suck in. your mouth opens in a last-ditch attempt to fill your lungs, dumbfounded. “is it because you did what i asked you to do?”

faced with the little oxygen that rises to your brain, you nod without thinking. haechan smiles openly, a chaotic emotion in his grin. “and you haven't looked at me because you're consumed by the shame of thinking about me while you were doing it.” he states, more affirmation than a question. something you don't bother to deny because you're so busy, on the verge of a breakdown.

he likes to know that you've touched yourself thinking about him and you wonder how far his perverse pulse can go.

“did you like it?” if you happen to panic, haechan ignores it with honor, approaching you to arrange a strand of hair. “thinking of me, touching you? would you like that, angel? d'you want me to?”

your eyes close when the emotions are too strong for you. his touch fades away and is almost painful.

you hear him sneer like he's holding back himself. “you've never been touched like this, have you?” his glowing eyes demand a response that strangles in your throat. “not even by yourself.” his voice comes out hesitantly as if it had barely occurred to him just now. “you sigh every time i brush against you in the dance piece. is it rude for me to think you're a virgin?” he coaxes, breathing artificially.

he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him. “haechan... please...” it's painful to look at him, shame crowds in your stomach, to be seen that way. undesirable.

“so you've never been on a date?” he inquires. “have you had a boyfriend, angel?” he grabs you by the chin as a devil grin spreads across his angelic face. you see him bite his lip, thoughtful. “would it be disrespectful to tell you my favor, then? can it scare you?”

your desire to know is greater than your desire to run away from him and his gaze full of wild amusement. you close your eyes when his burns.

your insides melt and tingle. thousands of butterflies hatching and flapping their wild wings in your guts. you think the dance has gone magnificently because of that. and now you need to know. what he thinks of you when he sees you. what he thinks of you when you're not around. when he's alone in his room. when he's lost in your head. you want to know if you don't leave his thoughts like he doesn't leave yours. “use your pretty voice.”

your eyes open to see him curl his lips, dazzling eyes lost in his thoughts.

“tell me...”

haechan's entertained. you see him having fun when he says, “here, in front of the whole world? i'd rather show you.” he comes closer, and his scent is intoxicating, he smells aromatic, soft and warm leather trail when he moves to your ear. “d'you want me to show you, angel? how much i want to run my tongue all over your body now? make you tremble, and sigh? bite your thighs, and your belly? taste you?”

your eyes flutter from the overdose of images that fill your mind. it (he) makes you dizzy to the point that you have to hold on to his shoulders. “make you scream my name before i make it choke in your mouth?” it overwhelms you when you feel him smelling you.

something soft and silky runs down your stomach and you feel your legs numb, squeezed together. “haechan...”

he lets out a long chuckle, “yeah, just like that.” his voice comes out hoarse and laborious.

your body tingles to feel his touch where you need it. your senses are in an uproar and over the place and there isn't an ounce of judgment right now that forces you to think clearly because haechan has lit a flame within you that threatens to consume you whole if you don't extinguish it.

“do you… want me?”

“of course i do, angel. i want you so bad.”

haechan waits for you to respond, drunk from the sensations on the surface. surprised by how much you long for him too. “i want you too.”

you can almost feel the ghost of his smile brushing against the base of your neck. it takes your breath away, to look at him so closely. moles and beauty marks dotting his face that you now take the courage to admire, and you helplessly think, you've been a fool to wait so long.

he has long lashes as well as long hair. and soft bags under his eyes that fluff up when his face lights up, all the time. his gaze is the same as the coffee charged in the mornings. sober, energizing and bitter, but... but if he wishes, it can be hot chocolate, warm, sweet, soft; you want him to be soft. his whole face looks like a work of art, meticulously carved like one of those works in marble, like an angel. with full cheeks and lips in an eternal pout, and good-boy features; your neck burns knowing he's not.

“i'd…” oh, no. the words come out before you can stop your stupid mouth from revealing your thoughts.

his eyebrows shoot upwards, attentively. “all ears.”

“i'd like you to kiss me.”

you can breathe properly when his playful gaze leaves yours, but you feel like you're carrying the weight of the world again when it lingers on your lips, and then he wets his own. “granted.”

his mouth feels warm and soothing. skilled motion adjusting to yours like pieces of a puzzle. haechan takes his time. you see him trying to hold back, hands cupping your face as if he knows you'll run away if he doesn't. until his lips venture to move pursing onto you, caressing you in a kiss.

he eases his lips brushing yours, it feels like torture. moving his mouth skillfully, leaving you dazed and static, falling into an abyss. your emotions get tangled. the sensations explode and bristle your skin as you feel him moving his mouth over yours. his addictive breath hits, his kisses become deeper, more voracious.

your mouths meet infinitely, moving in sync. it's slow, it's avid. lips fitting and adjusting each time he twirls his tongue against yours, clashing breath mingling in the space you take between kisses.

haechan strokes your back and you arch to him. you feel like dissolving as he cradles you into his intoxicating embrace and the taste of wine on his lips, musk scent lingering around you, fuzzing your mind while his mouth chaotically kisses you, luring you to the nearest wall to corner you and make out with more desire.

his body hums when you sigh against his mouth, startled by the soft collision of his lips, keeping you in a trance. hands roaming your waist and arms, fingers touching his tight muscles under his soft skin. hair soft and messy, cheeks puffy in contrast with his angular jaw, lined by your index fingers.

you flinch when he grabs your wrists, uneven and sharp breathing bathing your face. “pleased?”

it takes a while for the fog to lift from your eyes before you see him flash a smirk on his face. “yes...” sharp smile growing on his pursed lips, swollen and red from the passionate encounter with yours. “did you... did you like it?”

he nods, “very. should i kiss you until leave you breathless?” your mouth tingles to feel his again, but haechan keeps you in your place. “i won't be able to stop if you kiss me again.”

you feel your face burn under his piercing gaze, you want him so close. “i don't want you to.” you can't take your eyes off his, not when he seems to set emotions on fire to keep yours warm.

you watch him weigh what you've said as he lets go of your wrists and his touch goes to his lips. “d'you want me to be your first?”

your neck burns when you nod. “say it then.”

a sharp tingle settles in your chest, and your breath comes out uneven, just by thinking of saying it out loud. you don't think you're capable of doing it, you've never been expressive and being asked to do so is a lot to digest. but you want it. You want him so much it aches and your mouth opens... “i-” you say in an exhalation as he draws you to himself and press his lips against yours.

he kisses you with delicate caresses and deeply, clearing the pressure in your body.

haechan looks at you and reassures you. “hae...”

“shh... i was playing, angel. no need, hmm? let's go home.”

୨♡୧

the rest of the night slips out of your mind. flashing lights pass by at high speed, like an asteroid traveling through outer space. with your wild hair waving in the wind, cold breeze that would freeze you if it weren't for the fact that you take refuge in the warm space of his back as he rides through the city.

your mind feels scattered and dizzy, in a reverie.

with him coming up with a calm step behind you, boyish eyes wandering you. spontaneous, loose movements, leaning back on the door frame while your fingers tremble as you try to find the right key. haechan's long digits take them from your hands to take care of the lock. he sighs as doing so, ethereally.

haechan enters the space cautiously. he's been stuck in his mind ever since you uttered those hurried words, which slowly settled in your stomach and became real. you want him to do it. you want it to be him.

your apartment looks totally different from the previous time. you've been cleaning a lot. he knows where the couch is. his eyes rest on the furniture before looking over his shoulder at you. something flashes fleetingly on his face. a smile.

“my room... is this way.”

he makes a gesture, prompting you to walk as he follows. you hear his footsteps grinding on the wood of your old apartment until it ceases; he stops in front of a closed door. “is your roommate at home?” he wants to know.

“she won't bother us...”

a sly smile spreads across his lips as his eyebrows arch playfully. “bother us? doing what?”

“... you like to see me dismayed, d-don't you?”

“i like to see you, yes.”

you can't help but blush, you've taken a liking to the way he teases you.

a brief smile crosses his face, lighting up his gaze. “your room is pink.” his tone of voice layered with complex emotions and mockery. “your roommate's black, i imagine?” he opens his doe eyes when you urge him to lower his voice. “are you afraid that she'll hear to us? angel, how do you expect us to be able to...?” he rejoices when you cover his mouth. the unexpected movement causes his hands to rest on your back.

you let him go, biting your lip. you try to do breathing exercises to stop your neck from burning so much. haechan paces through your small room until he stops at something that catches his eye. the big, long mirror leaning against the wall.

“i use it to practice... my movements.” he tenses. it doesn't even fit in your room, you've had to make a bit of space and...

“it's in front of your bed,” he comments quietly. a sigh leaves his lips, “seriously, don't you know what you're doing to me?” he questions when he sees your confusion. his hand goes to his favorite part when he wants you to lose yourself in his gaze, but his ends up going to your lips. tongue wetting his mouth before bringing it to yours. “you don't know, hm...?”

he kisses you, intensely. wet mouth on yours, half-open and moving slowly. “i won't be able to restrain myself if you want me to be gentle,” he whispers against your lips parted. “but i could, if you ask me.”

he holds one of your wrists as he kisses you with agility, deep motions as he moves his mouth with ease over your lips opening for him, feeling your inner thighs burn when he brings it down his sternum and groin. “see what you do?” you gasp and he takes advantage to kiss you ardently.

his puffy lips leave chaste and moist kisses. mouths colliding and meeting in the middle. “touch me, angel.” you tremble. hoarse voice and in a whisper.

haechan let you go and you acknowledge that he doesn't want you to touch him just there; he just wants to feel your hands on him.

your body feels heavy. normally, you can't move your limbs when you're caught in this way. but you haven't noticed it, most of the time you haven't noticed how he melts when you run your hands through his hair. so you do, only to witness it one more time.

haechan breaks to kiss you harder. devastating and killer. with intense passion that clouds your judgment. your hands go to his shoulders as you feel your body move beneath his, blindly guiding you until your knees hit the bed. haechan pulls away and his lips look swollen, his eyes spill a wild feeling when he looks at you and you respond by sitting on the soft surface, between his legs.

you see him kneel in front of you, caress his face, and his eyes close in delight. your whole body feels raw, sensitive, and eager for him to touch it. feeling static as his fingers wander up and down your legs, hands grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs while his eyes drink your reaction.

you feel powerful when he looks at you, a gaze full of crackling fire that spills out when he opens his mouth on your legs. your hands grab his hair, and he moans. repeating the sweet sound in your head before his hands go up to your waist, suddenly hovering over you. “do you think we'll need wine tonight?” you asks shyly.

his eyes burn when they demand that you put your senses back to work. it's quite a process when you have to pick them up from all the places in your room after he's messed them up.

“i want you sober.” he towers over you on the bed. you have no choice but to rest on your elbows as his shiny chain gently pats your nose. “so you can feel everything tonight.”

he smiles when you gulp, “lay down.” his hands slide up to grip your waist and your eyes close, in anguish, doing what he says.

haechan is charged, his body seems to buzz when you feel him against you.

you're gasping for air when his mouth collides with yours again, pushing your body down, pressing his mouth harder. you feel gravity pushing his presence upon you, your legs open on either side of his waist, and your hands are caught by his and placed on either side of your head, with no escape but to kiss him back.

haechan moves unexpectedly and you gasp in his mouth. something pokes your belly. hard and big. your senses are stirred up and you feel your inner self dissolve, fog clouding your mind when he does it again and you feel a reaction on your legs, flaming hot.

when his hands grab the hem of your shirt, you panic. “can... can we turn off the light?”

the bruises are barely visible, but if he's this close, he'll be able to notice them all. and you don't want me to see you like that.

haechan pulls away from you and looks around. when he reaches out to turn off the lamps on your bedside table, that hard thing presses back into the valley of your femininity, and you gaze at the stars.

troubled senses travel to the moon. your mind is a hazy territory of disjointed thoughts, and density settles in your vision.

he removes your clothes like a total expert. you let him undress you completely while your whole body purrs with searing pleasure. exposed to his gaze going over your body, taking his time. when he prepares to undress, you want to help him.

haechan bears with patience at your trembling hands removing his clothes. buff, toasted chest that you caress in a trance, you touch his stomach and his collarbones, stifling a sigh. his heart beats fast under your palm, and you could take it if you want to.

your mouth leaves soft kisses, one, two, three. haechan smiles at each of them. his mouth reciprocates your caresses.

his soft, firm fingers rest on yours to help you with the process. “you're doing well, angel.” he kisses you as you lay down when he pushes you. you can't even follow the thread of his words by the gentle collision of your skins against each other, chests rising and falling, uncontrolled breaths when your mouths meet, and hands roaming across your body, pinching, grasping, caressing.

he touches you and you pant; only he has come this close.

haechan takes you to ecstasy just by roaming through your body. when his wet mouth comes down yours and wraps one of your breasts with his lips, tongue flicking on the bristling skin, your back arches in desire, trickling down your stomach.

he keeps you close to him. fingers barely running his nails up and down your thighs as he kisses you deeply. you hold your breath when you feel his hand touch you. he hums almost and the sound comes up tortured, “you're soaking wet, angel.”

“hae... please.” you gulp, “i want to feel you.”

his body jerks over yours after you talk. “let me stretch you first, hmm?”

your head pulls back when he inserts a finger inside. “so wet. fuck. you feel so soft, angel. will you warm up my cock?” he coats his fingers with your arousal, pumping them in and out.

your back arches, and he shoves them deeper, rocking them inside, making room so he can put another finger. “a-ah, haechan.” a breathy moan escapes your lips, and haechan coaxes a few more when he strokes your pussy back and forth. your plushie walls narrow around his digits as your legs try to close in front of his stomach, the sensations intensifying inside you, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

a white noise whips your mind when he speeds up and you whine helplessly, feeling something sucking you from your core.

“i... i need you.” you cry when a sharp pain streaks your breath away and he begins to slow down, finger sitting inside your swollen walls as you throb.

he kisses you and pulls his fingers out. “anything my angel says.”

haechan fits in between your legs, you sense his penis lining up with your pussy before he pushes inside. when he enters you, you both choke a gasp. he needs to take the time to adjust. you think you hear him say you're too narrow. he wet his fingers and takes them down to your intimacy and you almost scream when he massages your clit with his cock twitching inside.

he grunts when you inevitably squeeze, sneering. “s-sorry,” you whisper when he licks his lips. “it felt nice.” he doesn't stop massaging the swollen lump, and you find yourself seeing stars every time your vision goes out of focus. his flushed face coming into the frame to gaze at him as you cup his cheeks.

“does it hurt?” his eyes are tinged with blue.

“no.” you're bewitched, when he smiles tenderly and moves in, the rest of his cock buries inside.

he breathes, and nuzzles more. “my sweet girl.”

your cheeks are moist and your mouth half-open, as he begins to slowly penetrate you. gasps come out of your mouth with each thrust of his pelvis with yours. you're in limbo, completely evicted. hands cupping his face, in a state of lethargy. “d'you like it, love?” he hisses when you clench, a short laugh assails him.

his eyes have turned black, darkened by the night and the burning desire that crackles with every stroke of his dick. “... y-yes,” you moan, closing your eyes.

he pulls you by the waist and your lower body sticks closer to his crotch, arching you to him. he starts to move rhythmically and you cuffs the sheets. the feel of his thick length feels delicious, and the deeper he pushes in the higher you scream. “hae!” you want him to go in harder, faster, deeper.

haechan curses under his breath before clashing his mouth with yours, lips synchronized with the constant glee of his pounding. your emotions react to him, the way he grops you as he fucks you. stretching you out smoothly and gently. the way he slides inside you without giving you a break.

“fuck, baby. f-fuck!”

your fingers touch his back, his shoulders blades flexing with each stroke. when he hurries the movement, your nails bury in the tender skin and he moans loudly. your whole body hums possessed by the most delicious intensity imaginable and as you feel an electric current run down your body, you scream. “haechan.” a cry after another. “g-god.”

his dick slams hard inside you, filling you with extreme sedative pleasure every time he hits your sweet spot. “you feel so nice. so warm and sweet.”

you muffle a whimper when he pushes deeper, “do you like it when i'm this gentle with you, angel?” bottoms out before pulling it out and repeating it. tapping his pelvis against you rhythmically. his eyes are tightly closed, and his pretty and agitated face looks distressed.

“... push deeper.” he grimaces and the very thought of having him this affected by your words makes your body tingle.

“fuck.” his mouth opens as he hammers you, taking his thick cock around your walls covered in your arousal. his arms collapse on either side of your body and pull him to you. “hae...” you call when you see him hide his face in your neck. you swallow, “is something wrong?” you're dying to know. doubts grow in you. he doesn't want to see you because he doesn't like what he sees?

“no, angel.” he says, tracing circles on your clitoris in a spontaneous gesture. his thumb hits the swollen area and makes you moan helplessly. “i won't last longer if you keep clenching like that.” he kisses your neck, and you melt. he strokes you faster and messier when you do it, “hmm... just like that, angel.” he tenses on top of you and you hold him tighter. “fuck, you're so sweet.”

his breath messes up some strands of your head when he shifts the pace. your legs jerks from the sensation as he strokes you a little bit faster. a whiplash runs through you while your numb limbs scatter on either side of his body, “hae.” you're drunk with pleasure, his name always showing up in your mind even then.

it's so blurry... and dizzy. feeling his grip on one of your legs, entranced by the way he moans as the knot in your stomach releases and drags you into semi-consciousness, fucking you sharper. a strangled gasp leaves your mouth when your body sinks into the sedative effect of his thrusts. “h-hmgh, hae!” your body tingles and squirms as an elongated gasp leaves your lips, feeling him too much, even when he slows down.

your heart thumps erratically as the white sensation takes over your senses and leaves you in a catalytic state. something else pulse along with your heartbeat. you swallow hard as haechan receives each of your spasms attacking your pussy.

he strokes your hair. “so good, angel”

your mouth feels dry. you feel a tingling in your cunt as he keeps rocking his dick in and out. “can i get one more?”

you feel the sensation of your high on his aching cock, swollen walls pressing his length. “o-oh.”

he revels.

his face appears in the haze, brows frowned. eyes consumed by his pupil darkened. your heart skips a beat at the view. “oh,” you seem to tense around him at the simple sound of his voice. “is that a yes?” a pleasant warmth buzzes in your belly. yes. yes.

you hug him by the shoulders as he comes to you and rests his face on your shoulder. the chill of the night makes your hair stand on end, but haechan warms you up with his slender and toned body; his skin still feels smooth despite looking carved. like marble. you cry when he increases the intensity of his hips crashing against yours. panting leaves your lips. “h-haechan!”

he grunts, “fuck, you're doing so good, angel. you're so sweet for me.” your eyes go to the back of your head when it's unbearable and overwhelming. the way he penetrates you with rhythmic beats that makes you sigh with fascination, enraptured and numb. hands making fist the sheets under your bodies due to his tip constantly pressing that hidden spot inside you, filling more and more the pool of pleasure.

your room is filled with lewd sounds and your moaning. labored breathing as he fucks you senseless. your eyes open through the mist that blurs your tear-filled eyes from the euphoria he makes you feel, and your wet, swollen lips moan his name between kisses as he wraps your legs around his waist, reaching your climax once more.

“s-shit, yn... fuck—” his movements become erratic and desperate, his strokes becoming rougher, tensing his body over yours as he loses control and he moans breathlessly, possessed as he ejaculates.

your eyes register every gesture he makes as he cums. his eyes closed tightly, his mouth half-open in bewilderment, his face flushed with pleasure, highlighting his moles by splashing his face. your mouth rests on his throat, which rises and falls when he swallows hard.

a loud sound startles you. haechan slides away from you, smiling in glee.

you think your roommate has heard you.

your body feels light and resting among the clouds when he moves you around. he shifts you at will, making you rest on your knees. you feel like you're on the verge of fainting. worn and smiling, looking at the reflection of your body and his behind you in the mirror.

“don't look away,” he commands. his hands push your body down by the waist, where he guides his tip back to your pussy. the lewd motion of him sliding it up and down through your sensitive folds makes you see stars before you choke out a gasp when you feel him pushing inside.

your eyes flutter and take in the night light filtering through the open window and spilling onto his sunny skin. haechan's eyebrows come together, and his mouth opens before his head falls back. he's feeling you. “shit.”

his hands move to your forearms as your body pulls forward, feeling the sweet burning crowd into your intimacy. he pushes you back and drowns out a plaintive moan, hissing as your walls take him deeper.

he feels full inside, he fills all the space of you with his girth. something flutters in your guts when you can feel him sitting between your walls.

he holds you right below your tummy and presses you into the lump inside. he grins and bites your shoulder at the lewd scenery of him making you feel him before he slides out and pulls back in. “feels nice?” he asks, staring at your dazed expression.

“very.”

he coaxes the most crumbling feeling in you. mind cluttering only with his sounds replaying in a loop. your body moves up and down just to hear them again, and your eyes don't leave the mirror, but not to look at you; to gaze at him.

he chuckles, “f-fuck, angel. just like that.”

your insides are buzzing. your belly purrs, as he elongates every word when he says, “just like that.”

୨♡୧

in the pleasant evening, you find yourself ambiguously exhausted and in a euphoric outburst. your body have synced with haechan's throughout the performance, and your muscles have recorded the steps in every fiber. both of you finding airless, the space charged with electricity and static when he slides your hands away and the distance between your bodies grows wider.

it's been magical all the evening. your body feels strange and at the same time pleasant and it's because of him. every time your eyes meet, you remind of what you've been doing for the past few days. his face showing amidst the haze, his arms flexed under your palms, features twitching as he climaxes after making you cum a couple of times before; every time he guides you as kai introduces you to important figures, you revel on the reminiscences of his warm body, his chiseled muscles and his gentle touch.

“how do you feel?” his breath makes your skin bristle when he gets close to your ear.

“good…” he grins when your cheeks warm up. haechan takes advantage of the absent-mindedness of the diners to squeeze your ass and the gesture makes you feel the small plump bury in the tight hole. a sigh takes the air out of you at the overwhelming and strange sensation expanding within you. “feels good?” he wonders, watching your face for some kind of discomfort.

you nod and he mimics you, eyes glinting. “how much?” your legs squeeze against each other at the hoarse tone of his voice. “very much.”

you've begun to feel your essence transform every time his hands intertwine as he takes you to the edge of the world. eyes softly darken when he leaves you hanging in space and brings you back to him, kissing you slowly. it makes you crave so much more.

you squeeze against the object inserted into you, expanding you. your stomach flutters with butterflies when he says, “i want to fuck you hard with it tonight.”

he doesn't leave your side as kai introduces you to important figures, fingers on your back lingering on your body, guiding the way.

the spell you're in is soon broken when kai arrives and drags you from his embrace, taking you somewhere else to be the main entertainment.

it takes you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together as you let kai guide you, putting all your focus on getting your breath to stop pulsating in your ears and stomach. to put out the fire that burns your legs.

it's not until you hear him speak that you realize the scarcity of people in the room he's brought you, the dim light, and the languid smile on his face. “mon magnifique cygne.”

(my magnificent swan.)

“well done. in the end, you do possess something in you, hidden, of course, but nothing it can't be exploited. nothing i can't make it shine like a bright sun.” his finger taps his chin twice as he studies you.

“have i done it right?”

“you've done flawlessly. you've stolen glances today, precious.”

a smile falters on your mouth as you feel something uncomfortable slipping down your spine. “will there be other performances?”

kai's eyes fall on you with disdain, “performances? yes, of course. swan lake is the most famous in the academy. many kill for the role. others leave it with claws and bite marks.”

you didn't know how coveted the position was. all the wary looks make sense now that you know how much they want your position. “i'll do my best.” his gaze rises to your face as if he hasn't heard you.

“you've done enough. all the important men want you. they can't wait.” he scoffs, “you've been the best swan they've ever seen, but another one will come. there's always another one coming.”

his words form a whirlpool that throws you off balance. “another?”

“you didn't think you'd be the swan forever, did you, baby? in this world moving at high pace? you're foolish and at the same time deluded.”

kai stares at your blank expression, completely stunned. his words have left you feeling sick. “you said they liked it... i thought that... you said they can't wait to...”

“oh, yeah. they have loved you, expressly stated. they can't wait to use your body as they please.”

the moment the truth comes crashing down on you, your heart contracts with sharp pain. surprise and horror form a dense, heavy cocktail that makes your body squirm and go tense. “you thought you were good enough and different from the rest? my precious, there's a thousand more like you in every corner of the city. you're as replaceable as any prop on the stage. your only function is to generate emotions. joy, sadness, lust.”

you don't notice how close he gets until he caresses your cheek. and he is so attractive, that you don't understand why your body rejects his affection. hands play with your dress, body turned to stone by his gorgon gaze. “are you going to force me...?” your voice comes out almost inaudible.

kai gets annoyed with your stutter, “force you? i'd rather you do it of your own free will.”

“let me prove it to you, i'll do my best.”

“they're all the best, silly girl. but you're being great so far, i can make an exception, everything for my crowd's jewel. i propose you a deal. if... you prove you're the best, then i'll give you the role once more... but if you don't, you'll comply.”

your insides crackle with the parallel of making a deal with the devil.

you see his graceful body relaxed as he chats with a ballerina. it doesn't take long for him to find you in the crowd, his eyes darkening in front of you. your inner self dissolves when his fingers intertwine with yours and he pulls you out of there. it's so easy for him to draw all the attention to him, make your whole world revolve around him.

his hand full of rings play with you on the way to his bike. “do you want to drive it on the way home?”

“won't it be dangerous?”

you gaze at him and you feel like he was expecting that answer from you. “it'll be fun.”

he guides you from the waist to the front of the bike and his hands put yours where they should go. when he pressed into you, a crushing current shakes you when the plump moves in. a few stars dance on your vision and your toes curl.

haechan laughs lively. “see? fun,” he states, starting the engine.

the drive home is full of potholes and abrupt stops on purpose. your core vibrates and ignites every time the plug collides with haechan's pelvis, and there's no use for you to not lose your mind when even the soft humming of the bike sends shivers down your legs. by the time you arrive home, you're so soak and needy you kiss him ardently as soon as you take off the helmet.

you let haechan take care of taking you to your apartment. he elated seeing you so affected and sighing against his mouth. his fingers tap the toy over your clothes and you almost squeal in pleasure. “haechan… hmm…”

he makes you sit on top of him on your bed, kissing your neck while he begins to tap rhythmically the plump in your needy hole. you shudder and grind against him. “my girl's so needy for me to fuck her?”

he lifts you and works on his pants. when he releases his rock-hard erection, your vision fogs up. “undress.”

he remains dressed except for a couple of undone buttons on his black shirt. you take off all your clothes and stand in front of him, at his mercy, eager mouth wanting to touch his lips when he bites them, angling your face so he can kiss you deeper.

his fingers play with the plug, pulling it out of you. “my pretty girl. want me to replace this?” you breathe erratically. “with my cock, hmm?” he turns you, both facing the mirror. hands making you spread the way he wants you. his hard cock hits your pubic area from behind.

you sob when he starts to slide it along your folds. having to wait kills you while he takes his time covering his length with your silky lubrication. “eyes in the mirror.” he aligns it against your hole and starts to push it in.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when his fingers begin to play with your clit as he slowly enters you from behind. he goes in and out a couple of times, adding inches until he fills you all the way in. “does it hurt?”

your eyes flutter. “just right.”

a rare feeling spread through your legs and it feels full. he smiles and closes his eyes. “move for me, yeah?”

your legs barely respond when you go up a bit and feel fire go down your thighs, sliding it back in, picking your pace. haechan's hands stay on your waist, helping you to go back and forth, adjusting to him. “don't look away, angel.” circling your clit and whispering praises as you're about to collapse from the overwhelming sensation taking over.

he welcomes you into his embrace when you can't take it anymore, totally carried away by the atrocious pleasure that plagues you. holding his wrist and making him go faster on you. “hae… hm-mgh.”

his cock moves inside you and you squeeze your eyes shut. the pleasure is very intense when he thrusts you deep while playing with the swollen clit, and you soon find yourself trembling over him. legs shutting close when waves of spasms take your breath away.

eyes catching his fingers coated with your slick gushing out of you before a sharp tingling almost leaves you catalytic. “a-ah, angel.” you begin to throb violently making him a hissing mess. pretty sounds fill the room when you regain consciousness as he pulls out.

he lays you on the bed, and kisses you. “tired?” your body feels sleepy and a little painful. but it feels… loaded.

you see his wild eyes gleaming with delight when you shake your head. pulling him in by the neck so he can lay on top of you and taking off his clothes. you wrap your legs around his waist to guide his erect length to your entrance.

your wrist are firmly taken by him, face lurking over you before kissing you savagely. your legs burn and your head spins as it starts to penetrate you. “my pretty angel.” you moan his name. “all mine.” you feel his smile when he talks.

“hmm…?” he inquires when he doesn't catch what you muttered.

“i want to be yours.” your eyes open to see his expressions bathed in uneasiness fleetingly. “make me yours,” you repeat, cupping one of his cheeks when his grip loosened.

you draw him to you and kiss him, lost in the clouds. mouths adjusting before merging into each other. haechan hides in your neck and squeezes you tighter against him, sinking into you.

“angel.”

“make love to me,” you say loud and clear. “please?”

“yeah? is that what my sweet girl dreams, hmm?” he inquiries, thrusting you slowly. “you want me to be your prince?” he mocks softly.

your eyes roll and he grins. you arch towards him and feel your eyes tear up. “please.”

“you're so dreamy.” he bites your nipple, “you want me to make you mine, angel?”

you say yes in a breathless sigh. “a-ahg.” he rocks his dick back and forth while sucking on your tits. “as you wish, my girl.”

and while he fucks you skillfully, white noise fog your brain, and you can almost feel it flapping its wings.

୨♡୧

you don't think you can make it to the end of the week.

you dance and dance and dance to exhaustion until kai smiles with satisfaction.

you find no solace in keeping him happy, you look like a ghost haunting the halls of the academy.

your footsteps lead you to the restroom, feeling sick; you forgot to eat today. you've skipped a couple of meals the past few days, but that's not why you freeze at the sight of your haggard reflection in the mirror, but the depraved word written with red lipstick covering all the space.

WHORE.

the air escapes you when set out to erase it, hearing laughter from the booths.

you endure the punches and you endure even more being broken into a thousand pieces. on your behalf, chasing the dream, until it's impossible to carry both.

haechan's touch never felt rough, but your body shudders every time his hands brush against you. your skin is sore, bruised, dotted with small marks that you hide under your clothes. you try not to squirm, don't let others know. they will see you as weak, you'll be marked as prey. and because of that, you try to cope with the pain until you finish the piece.

kai dispatches everyone at the end of the night.

you're in a trance that you don't get out of until you're picking up your things again at the end of the routine, numb and empty, wandering off the exit to see haechan on his motorcycle.

it's like seeing through a lens. smiling at you with his characteristic and diabolical grin, curving his full a and pouty lips, lighting his carved face. an out-of-body experience, watching the girl so much like you touch his hair, it almost feels intimate. just like you two.

wongyoung looks over her shoulder and smiles, catching haechan's attention.

his boyish eyes travel to you, acknowledging your presence. gaze locking for the first time that night, and god, how much you missed the soft feeling he causes in you, sedating your soul, completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you.

your lower lip trembles when you're left alone. you want him to take you home again, but instead, he scoffs, sardonic when he sees you crying.

“they... they have...” the need to tell him overwhelms you, but what do you want to confess? what weighs more? your sore body? the filthy messages? kai?

haechan sighs, disdainfully. “you like to be a martyr, don't you?”

your eyes are unable to avoid searching his for something you can sustain yourself with, but you find only annoyance and darkness covering his true colors. “look, angel. don't be stupid, i don't care about you. i don't like you. did i ever ask you out?” his honey-brown eyes search yours for traces of having affected you. “i only took you to bed.”

“why did you?”

“because you're beautiful; but so are other women, and i enjoy fucking them, i enjoyed fucking you, but nothing else.”

tears stream up your eyes and you can't stop them, “why... why are you so m-mean to me?”

your muscles have stiffened and turned to stone as you take his words in. he goes over your figure and snorts, “i'm being honest.” the way he pronounces it makes you believe otherwise. “you're making this a big of a deal, but the thing is, shit happens. you should learn to take insults the same way you take compliments.” he starts his bike, engine purring and filling in the space of your little response, busy trying to stay on your feet.

he doesn't leave, he gloats that his words have hit you good. and you find your broken heart more painful than your whole body bruised. “i'll just break your heart. i'm doing you a favor.”

“i never asked for one.” you don't want to see the sadistic and lascivious smile that surely crosses his features, you want to keep the image you like the most of him, with his lazy grin and bright eyes, burned in your mind when he leaves and the night engulfs him.

you find yourself in a world of shadows and silences when haechan behaves indifferent towards you after his encounter. he pretends you don't exist, his eyes turn away from yours as if he is disgusted to look at you. he repulses you completely, his hands pull away from you as if they are on fire, fingers flexing into a fist and unclenching as he leaves the room.

he soon returns to his usual gait that you had wanted so much to ignore. when his lips stretch into a smile typical of him and gives it to wongyoung. jealousy consumes you, clouds your judgment and makes you furious when you see her place her hands on his chest and corner him against a wall as she kisses him unceremoniously even though you have felt her gaze acknowledge your presence.

she’s everything you’re not. she's bold. and sensual and what haechan is attracted to.

it's hard to pretend it hasn't affected you. you think about it even outside of academia. you let the words he spoke set your mood. the way you dance.

kai's blank expression is more terrifying than his sardonic one. the live music is extinguished just by raising his index finger, which he then brings to your lips. “where is it?”

you're afraid you don't know what he's talking about, you're afraid he stares at you as if you have to know. “my swan, where is it?” he puts his lips on a fine line when he gets no response from you or haechan.

there is a tense and quiet atmosphere between you. you barely look at each other. he's grossed out every time he has to keep you close ‘til kai fixes your postures. he separates himself from you and puts meters of distance between you. he just looks at you through the mirror and you're aware of his features darkening with hatred.

“you've been doing alright the last rehearsals, what happened now?” he wants to know, very calm for your thrill.

you and haechan look at each other without thinking, before you look away. “again,” kai says, suddenly delighted.

live music plays again and soon you resume the dance. and it's impossible to ignore how he avoids you at all costs. how he looks anywhere but your face, how his hands feel like they're touching acid. he moves away from you very quickly and his touch barely rubs you, feeling the sudden sensation that he's grossed out by you.

the piano ceases with a move of his fingers and something crumbles inside of you as you have stumbled in the grand jeté. “i'm done.” kai grabs his papers and leaves the room without giving you a glance.

you hold your ankle in your hands in anguish at the time you hear haechan steps echoing on the floor, leaving. it aches awfully, but nothing serious, you just landed on a bad angle. maybe you need ice...

“are you okay?” he asks, kneeling beside you. his eyes go over and study your expression, slowly replacing for other. “answer me. are you hurt?”

he checks your body with his hands without waiting for a response. gaze analyzing every part of it until it goes down to your ankle. “you need ice...” you see him make a gesture to carry you, as if he wants to take care of it himself.

haechan looks at you when you reject his touch. he can exert more force and carry you anyway, you're sure of that, but he remains calm and instead tries to convince you by softening his gaze. “let me take care of it.”

and the stupid version of you would've fallen at his feet.

“d'you want to take care of it now?” you pronounce.

haechan stares at you dumbfounded. his delicate expression bathed in trouble, frowning while his eyes flames with something. worry. “of course i want... angel. i care.”

you get up, shunning his assistance, but haechan gives you no respite. you are unable to get away from him when he is strongest and most determined to receive your hands in fists pushing him away and punching his buff chest. he doesn't move an inch. “leave me alone. leave me alone!”

he grabs you by the forearms and you fight to break free. “you're hurting yourself.” the anger gradually fades away, your attempts to escape his grip become weaker. you're about to pass out, “s-stop tormenting me,” you ask, pleadingly. “haven't you had enough?”

you see through the tears his face. his cheeks. his moles. his lips and eyes. but you find nothing. you don't even find love.

“i've been hurt, i-i... they...” you stutter when you start to cry, regretting it because you've said it before, and you remember that he still doesn't care.

you cry in front of him, in complete and tense silence. his grip has loosened and you hope he won't let you go, that he will hug you. “i don't know what he wants from me. why has he chosen me?”

“he wants your purity, angel,” he says, with a husky voice.

you laugh reluctantly. “well, you already stole it from me.”

haechan doesn't stop you when you get rid of his embrace. he doesn't do that when you leave either.

୨♡୧

the reflection in the mirror seems to be smiling at you when you get out of the shower. your face blurs in front of you by the foggy steam and your hand rish to undo a perfect scribble into a loosened word constantly chasing you. something lurks in your chest when you finally erase the message, an uneasy feeling as you roam around your room.

the feeling settles more when you don't see your underwear anywhere just as you hear footsteps on the corridor.

“have you been taking my underwear?” you peek into the next room to find it empty, except for a pair of black panties on the made-up bed. “there they are.”

you've been having brain fogs lately.

your mind wanders most of the time in periods that you have no record of. you have no memories of getting to the academy or how you end back at your apartment. no reminiscences of eating or sleeping. and you don't recall where you were the night before.

kai has become quieter as you and haechan avoid each other.

you can bear his presence behind you. is overwhelming, you feel leaden. “my prince, would you fuck this girl?”

you are short of breath and your eyes shoot towards kai at such an unscrupulous question. “you wouldn't,” he vouches for haechan when he makes no hint of answering. “i wouldn't.”

you bite your lip when you threaten to break right there, and your eyes move through the mirror of their own volition. towards his face, taking on a pink tint. “you're dismissed. bring wongyoung when you're out.” the air refills your lungs at his statement, moving your feet to gather your stuff. “not you.”

haechan stares at kai intensely, his eyes between you and him. a muscle jumps in his jaw as he looks at you troubled. “and don't take long, prince,” kai adds, thrilling. live music is playing again and his gaze spills over to you one last time before leaving you alone and helpless.

you're so immersed in his presence leaving the room that you haven't noticed that you've held your breath until your lungs ache from your shallow breathing. you're not so quick to register kai's entering the scene. you've let him corner you alone again, his indistinct gaze sweeps across your figure and even though you're fully dressed, you feel helpless. “told you it might happen.”

he lurks around you. “the question is whether you will let her take your role without a fight..., wongyoung is… obscure. her dancing is not as technical and superb as yours, but it is definitely thrilling to watch. she casts the black swan wonderfully. with a dark impulse, maybe, yet so destructive, of course. she'd be perfect.”

he plays with the small ribbon on your shoulder, pulling the strings. your breathing freezes when he threatens to unravel and leave you exposed, “so, do we end our deal?”

you swallow hard. “give me one last chance.”

kai puzzles, “haven't i given you enough already? shouldn't you thank me a little?”

a sharp thump causes kai to curse under his breath and your eyes widen in fright, meeting haechan's darkened gaze through the mirror. he takes in your entire face, and how frightened you are. “costume fitting?”

kai scoffs, and haechan's glare becomes lethal when he looks at him, rubbing his chin in a stimulus. “seriously... can't you see you're interrupting something?”

“she's got plans already.”

“with whom?”

“with me.”

the young man remains silent, acceding just as wongyoung step into the room. “angel, let's get you home,” the honey boy asks, taking a step closer, his back turned to you, looking at kai. he peeks over his shoulder to cast a softened gaze that melts your stiff muscles and gets them going.

you work quickly, and almost automatically while haechan waits, prompting kai to stay in the room, his lips pursed in a smile. your breath thaws and soothes your aching chest once you leave, “easy, swan. the prince chooses the evil twin at the end of the piece,” he chimes before haechan drags you from there.

୨♡୧

haechan's pov.

he's out of his mind lately.

he can't stop playing the night he spent with you. your face. your body. the way you said his name so cute and ethereal. how you felt all night until you fell asleep, drowsy and with the prettiest smile he's ever seen, keeping him close.

he had to run away.

he can't come up with a name to this feeling creeping in; lust is one of his usual emotions, then comes pleasure and thrill. what could he then call emotion lingering through his senses every time he grasps your waist and a sigh slips from your lips?

it takes all the strength and will to spin his thoughts and continue the piece. when his whole being burns for you and his hands tingle and feel sensitive after touching you, fleeting from the room before you can see how troubled he is.

he never spends the night when he has casual rendezvous with girls, which happens a lot more often than he'd like you to know. he wants to keep that part away from you, he didn't want you to know.

and then suddenly he stays at your house because he's spent his time admiring your serene face in a dream.

now you ignore him in the gala and he feels physically bad. why do you make him feel this way? it's like he's the one rejected when you don't even spare him a glance. it's as if every fiber of his being reacts for you, keeps him stunned, and he doesn't understand why he feels vulnerable following you across the room while you avoid him.

“i think… can we do the swan one more time like… before? it's my last time and i want it to be... perfect.” you blush, and he can't say no even if he tries.

haechan can't get rid of the feelings; he has tried. you keep attracting him, and it torments him.

he strips himself of kazuha's caress of a crude and in a involuntary movement. “what?”

“you're pissing me off.” he doesn't find passion within him. alcohol is useless, much less get distracted.

he knows how effective his words are when she looks at him dumbfounded, “am i pissing you off? i thought you were bothered by naivety, have you changed your likings so quickly?”

he's growing tired. he has had a lot; it bothers him even more that he has spent hours cleaning a mirror that is not his and he does not even know why.

“have you done it?” he asks abruptly.

kazuha opens her eyes when he stands up. “the mirror… have you done it?”

“what mirror?” kazuha's intentions to manipulate him by looking him up wasn't effective on him; she looks stupid. “no…” he could inflict flames on her by the way he was looking at her.

“don't you dare touch her.”

“her?” he's blind my rage, and her attempts to appear innocent were annoying him, and haechan knew that by acknowledging it he would indisputably confess that she bothered him because she wanted to look like you. and she couldn't. “i swear… she's getting into your mind. haechan…”

his own name bothers him. “if i know you've hurt her...” her features relax and transform her into a demonic beauty, yet haechan is unfazed. “you haven't see the worst of me.”

his eyes look for you, you might notice it, do you? it is involuntary that his heart beat fast when he sees you coming towards him, and his eyes betray him, it has always betrayed him, when they soften. suddenly, everything inside him goes silenced by your presence. and it's almost your fault like it is you the reason.

in every chance encounter, his eyes seek you out in an involuntary reflection of the fascination he still feels when you get affected when he touches you, an indomitable sensation comes over him when he lifts you into the air and you slowly fall again, and your gazes do not avert when his seems to say everything he cannot express; the gravity that draws him to you. the tips of his fingers buzz when he catches your waist and burn when he doesn't.

“magnificent. my prince.” kai stops him as you fleet away from him and he feels the need to follow you. “seems like you know how to look desperate for her love.”

words come out like poison. “stay away from her.”

he's fucked.

he needs to take comfort right there. his palm pumps his sore cock and unscrupulously moans your name in a whimper. he fiddles with his slit and hisses, speeding up the movement. he imagines you doing it, he wants you to do it.

he longs to feel your wet mouth around him, your lips pressing into his girth, your tongue at the base of his testicles as he shoves all his cock inside, making you swallow all of his seed with your pretty pleading eyes, looking at him from below. seeing you keep stimulating his cock even though he's limb and turned into a bundle of moans and whimpers from the overdose of pleasure.

his breathing becomes labored, eyes bathed in desire that he tries to hide from your sight. “would you fuck her?”

his face burns and he curses. blushing is not a habit for him, much less getting nervous and avoiding your eyes out of embarrassment. what have you done to him?

he hasn't been able to hook up with other girls, something must have broken inside. and it's you.

୨♡୧

you try to calm your raging heart as haechan guides you by the hand out of that suffocating place. his back gives you some relief and brings back memories that you have treasured every night, but that was before. before the spell in which you're sure you would've lived inside eternally (even if it was a lie) broke.

the night greets you like old lovers, and your eyes close completely oblivious to haechan when he holds you suddenly. you find yourself dumbfounded, frozen as his arms take you in his embrace, and you smell his alluring fragrance again. with your arms trapped underneath his, unable to move as... he hugs you.

you want to keep this memory especially once you discover that it was just a dream. but it feels real. his touch feels solid, his signature intoxicating scent and it would be impossible for you to be able to recreate his face because he exhumes something heavenly. “hae...”

his muscles turn liquid when you bury your fingers into his hair just to make sure it's him. “forgive me, angel.” he breathes against your neck and squeezes you closer to him as he repeats a word over and over again.

please.

your face sinks into the space of his neck, lips brushing against his profile. leaving a kiss. his shoulders vibrate and a ragged breath assails him. he's... “please.” he's crying.

he turns away from you under your dazed state. hands roam your sides, as if he wants to renew the image he has of you this close. “i didn't know... i wouldn't have let him touch you. i thought... i... are you hurt?” he blurts out.

his eyes hold unshed tears because he's busy studying your features. his face is taken in your hands to wipe his wet cheeks. “no.”

his forehead joins yours. “let me take you home, hm...?” he whispers. “let me take care of it. let me take you on a date. i'll be worthy. give me... give one more chance.”

his hands, his fingertips... you barely remember them, but you always invoke them when kai's fingers stay longer on your skin. because his touch will never be the same as haechan's. because you want them to be his fingers and not kai's. a feeling twitches in your stomach, something dirty reveals itself and takes space as you fall into realization of his lewd behavior.

“would you... would you let me?” he says, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

his eyes... his eyes look like the emptiness left by the stars when they are not in the sky, because he has stolen them all to keep them in his gaze. gleaming, when you nod.

୨♡୧

your eyes remain close when the purr of the bike stops. a pair of hands lingers on yours intertwined in front of his body. haechan strokes them gently just as he helps you remove the helmet. your eyes taking in the place you are right now.

you feel his attentive gaze while yours wants to travel everywhere at the same time. “you like it?”

“where are we?” not in your apartment, but in a more idyllic place.

a few star beads have fallen from the sky and float in the small space of a clearing. it's very breezy and the lights twinkle like fireflies. your hands tighten around haechan when you look down at the cliff on the side of the bike; the view of the city shining like an oasis in the night blanket.

you hear him sigh softly. “the equinox... i thought you'd like it. or i can take you home. do you... do you want to stay?” he asks once your eyes turn to him. haechan is interested in the helmet, his phone, and the bike, and the sky while a soft pink tint blooms on his cheeks. “i'd love to.”

you see him get down behind you, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “how did you find this place?” you wonder, taking in sight the people coming and going through the mountain clearing. surely it's a ceremony for the event; there are food stalls and places to sit for dinner under the stars.

the thought of haechan stumbling upon the place casually doesn't quite fit in your head, but he responds. “i knew about it.” which doesn't quite fit either, especially when he smiles and looks away.

you nod, blinking. “hae.”

“hmm?”

“why did you bring me here?”

he looks at you, with wide doe eyes. his chest spasms as he combs his hair. “you don't like it? we can go somewhere else.”

“i like it, but... why are we here?”

every second that passes you discover what troubled he looks. “i thought you'd like it for when…- for a first date.”

he says the words carefully, as if remembering when his lips uttered terrible things to you long ago. “a first date?” you repeat, looking at him.

“our first date... you don't want to? shit, i should've asked you first. i was... i wanted to make up for what i did, the thing i said to you. i thought i could make up for it.”

“hae, shh...” he stops when you cradle his face.

“you deserve to be treated well, i thought i could give it a try.”

“you'll have a lot more girls...”

“you're the one i want.”

you shrink, “'cause i'm a fool?”

“i'm the fool, for you.”

you place a kiss on his full cheek with your hands pressed into his face. and then another closer to his mouth. “i should've asked you before, i'm sorry”

“you can ask now.”

your heart feels a strange and singular beat when the lights bathe his faces and spill over his eyes; burned honey melting on his gaze. you watch him choose his wording, “would you like to go out with me tonight?”

you chuckle, “yes.”

a smile blooms on his face, taking all the light. “should i be more romantic?” he asks, snuggling on your neck.

“why?” you ask, fuzzy.

his lips lurks closer to your cheek, and he whispers, “i'm not good with words. i could show you, instead.”

he grins like an angel. “i could kiss you.”

he comes closer before you can react, and his lips rest on yours. they're soft, assimilating your mouth over his, taking you as he slowly kisses you. his lashes tickle your cheeks and you feel him move to come back again and kiss you deeper. mouth catching up your lower lip while you play with his long hair.

his mouth goes back and forth from yours. your faces move in tune, lips colliding with vast emotion in the space between their mouths, meeting in the middle.

his eyes are sweet like honey, and the little bags underneath them, swelling up when he's happy and his gaze beams. “you don't need to be romantic with me,” you say after. “i… like you this way.”

the ethereal night slips through your fingers as haechan's hand guides you down the path, until you end up alone with the city shining in the background while kisses escalate in intensity.

your body slams gently against the fence and you stifle a sigh that haechan's deftly steals from your mouth. he corners you between him and the precipice, and little by little your judgment falls over it just as his hands caging you in his embrace as his mouth joins yours and invites your lips to move over his. he tastes like the sweet flavor of wine and something volatile, his hands running down your sides until he lifts your back off the edge to catch you in his soft, firm body.

your hands caress the nape of his neck and cheeks, fingers combing his wild hair and making him moan in your mouth. lips move down your jaw until they bury their head in your neck. haechan inhales deeply into your scent before depositing wet kisses on your skin and a sigh hangs in the open night.

his open mouth caresses your neck, feeling his tongue lash that makes you squeeze the material of his shirt. he laughs and the mere collision of his breath on your damp skin causes you to close your eyes and pant silently. haechan works diligently to elicit sighs in you, slowly losing his mind, mind getting lost in the space between the stars. his name occupies all your thoughts, slipping from your lips every time he squeezes your waist when he works wonders on your senses.

your eyebrows gather when the pleasure hurts to be released and he takes his time with you. brushing your buttocks so fleetingly he feels ghostly, groping your whole body when he kisses you ardently because his hands are never still in one place, wanting to touch you all.

the euphoria crackles inside you and his tongue enters and travels over your mouth. your hands draw him closer to you, unable to think coherently and humming when he pulls back and goes again. the kiss becomes faster and sharper. chaotic encounter in the middle before colliding again with intensity. you hear him vibrating against you as your hands grab him by the shoulders and forearms, chest and back, unable to sit still when your whole body buzzes and your senses feel fuzzy.

you haven't noticed when you've started moaning between kisses, every time his mouth moves over yours, pulling him to you every time. you feel his hot hands palming you over your clothes. “haechan,” you breathe as you kiss and kiss and kiss, and devour his lips and the intoxicating taste of wine makes you drunk. “haechan,” you say more eagerly, hearing him hum, but you don't even know what you want, you don't know how much you want him, how you want him, but you know where you need him the most.

“d'you want me to stop?” but the way he keeps placing his wet, soft mouth against yours, you're afraid he doesn't want to.

“no.” and you don't want him either, suddenly having an epiphany. you want him to touch you right there, you want to feel his fingers in your bare pussy, you want him to fuck you hard against the fence; you want him to corrupt you. completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you, craving to be free.

he waits for your answer, but he doesn't need it when you pant against his lips again. and a dark grin well up in his swollen, rosy mouth when he opens his mouth and restricts.

“i need to touch you, let me feel you, angel.” your eyes flutter as you nod heavily and his hands thaw to venture down the lower part of your belly, thumb tracing circles below your belly button before they disappear under your pants.

air escapes from your lungs when he meets the sore lump of your clit craving him. he curses by how wet you are, sensing it in your heated intimacy. your body breaks down in a jerk and you whine helplessly when he starts to stroke you, exerting the pressure needed to make you scream and collapse into his embrace.

your head falls on their shoulder and your body burns intensely as he rubs your clit, flicking his thumb as his middle finger flicker on your folds, turning you into a mess of sobs and strangled sounds he catches with his lips.

he coats his digits enough and moves to insert them into your needy cunt, stretching you before he starts to flick them just so he can take a look at your features contracting into a dazed grimace when the rawest pleasure shuts into your bloodstream.

haechan touches you and you must cover your mouth so as not to reveal his lewd actions in public. but you are unable to hold them inside you, and they slip through your fingers to find their way to the moon. you blink as an intense haze clouds your vision as he works wonders on your pussy and fire expands in your belly and spills down your thighs, trembling and throbbing. your eyes close and a gasp takes your breath away, skipping a heartbeat while he keeps thrusting his fingers, feeling you pulse.

“mesmerized?” he wonders when you start to blink slowly, your body going into a sedative state. “very.” your eyes focus on him, looking at you with soft eyes studying your face, and the volatile feeling stokes your belly.

he pulls out his fingers and brings them to his plump lips, your eyes flicker following the motion he does when he licks them as he locks eyes with you, “wait until i use my mouth.”

“hae… please.” he brings you closer to him. “i need you.”

“yeah? in what way?”

your hand takes his and brings it to your lips, flavoring the remnant of your silkiness from his middle finger. you see his eyes darken with desire. “should we go home then, hmm?” his voice is soft, and lulling, yet he's devilish when he mocks as he kisses you, “so i can see you do that with me this time?”

୨♡୧

all the way home your body feels like it's about to burst trying to contain the ravenous fire in your chest, the tingling between your legs, and it's not until you get to his apartment that you let it flow and gush out of you.

haechan, light up your energy as he carries you in his arms and makes you wrap your legs around his hips, walking blindly across his floor that he knows by heart. the need you have to look at his intimate space is completely eclipsed when he sits you down on the dining table and kisses you with passionate desire. your hands begin to undress him without realizing it, honey-tanned skin glistens in the dark, your eyes absorb his soft, smooth chest as you run your fingers and he tries to calm his breathing, starting to undress you too.

his eyes shoot quickly to yours as you watch him gasp for air and then you realize how much lighting is in the room, exposing the cardinals in different tones beginning to heal.

you gulp, hands scrambling to put your shirt back on. “do you... do you want to turn off-”

at the time he says, tone of voice tinged with menace. “was it him?”

your gaze avoids his when you deny it, but he makes you look at him. you see him relax when he sees you so tense, thoughts running at high speed, “shouldn't you have told me?”

“hmm?” he insists when you mumble under your breath.

“i tried…”

you see the colors fade from his face and emotions crowd his eyes. “did you want me to take care of the bruises?”

“i wanted you to kiss them away.”

“i can do that.” he comes closer, and you sense the moment he presses a kiss in a touch-sensitive place. and then another. kiss after kiss, after kiss, meeting your lips in the middle, fingertips erasing someone else's. “no one will touch you, my sweet angel. no one will. i'll keep you safe. d'you want me to save you?”

you nod under his gaze.

haechan lays you on his bed. it's comfortable, fluffy and cold at the same time. he makes it warm and cozy for you. he spreads kisses over your legs and thighs, stomach and ribs. you must have one or two bruises there because your body is shaking, or maybe it's his soft kisses as he makes you sprawl your legs so he can have a taste of you.

you squeeze and shudder under his mouth working miracles on you, exhausted pleasure making you moan his name as his tongue stimulates your slit, fucking you with his velvety muscle while sensing his plump lips pressing right on your clit, brushing them slightly.

haechan leaves you wetter than you were, soaking, damped and shivering when he hovers on you and kisses your neck. “i've fucked people and imagined it's you. what have you done to me, angel?” he whispers, poking his erection at your belly.

your hands go down and wrap around his circumference. haechan chokes out a gasp and his pelvis jerks towards you. he laughs breathly, “hm… fuck.” you kiss his lips parted and caress his wet slit.

he's hard as a rock, and already coated with beams of precum, has he gotten like this just by eating you? “yn…” he breathes, “yn.” he repeats your name as you work on his hard cock, stroking him up and down, mouth catching his lower lip in a kiss.

haechan growls and his eyebrows meet, a tortured expression furrowing his pretty features, agitated and blushing. his hot body on yours, erection pressing into the valley of your pussy as you masturbate him in a trance, watching his face contract with pleasure. “i want to feel you in my mouth,” you pronounce, pushing him so he can lay down.

he's so dazed he doesn't respond and instead swallows hard, head pulled back into the pillows when you straddle him and come closer to his dick.

your mouth is watering from ecstasy, putting it halfway in, and curling your tongue around his girth. haechan hisses; he tastes salty and sweet and he feels soft. you flavor his warm creamy precum from his tip, slender muscle flicking the slit, making haechan buckle his hips up. your hands are firmly in the groin as you push the rest of his length down your mouth.

“o-oh god.” his cock sits comfortably inside your oral cavity, it's thick, and you can barely get it in without not being able to puff up your cheeks. you bob your head and he calls your name eagerly, tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft. “fuck, angel.” he grunts and you delight with every sound you entice from him. pulling out his glistened cock once you need it inside you.

your eyes roll back while faint scream reverberates in your throat as the sensation expands through your extremities, and grips your pussy. haechan settles inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim, going up and down his hard cock. your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines mixing with his guttural sounds. kissing his lips and grinding against him.

haechan feels so good, his girth stretching you out before you begin to rock back and forth with sharp thrusts. your eyes take in your sight blurring and darkening with desire when you see him close his eyes and gulp, hands roaming your thighs. a tingling drops in your stomach as he turns into a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words.

you grind, and rock, and wiggle in ecstasy, causing moans that slide from his parted lips and constantly wet down his tongue.

the sensations makes you lightheaded, the rhythmically pace he force you to fuck him with his firm hands on your waist, feeling delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you.

you move with rough and sharp thrust on his lap, dick sliding in and out, sensing your ecstasy building on your belly, vibrating each time your groin meet.

a divine sensation is unleashed in your stomach, and suddenly you are euphoric. you cannot sustain yourself properly.

you start to move with short, deep thrusts. riding him dexterously, your body contorts when you increase speed, your pussy clenches and twitches, dazed by the full way it feels, starting to rock involuntarily once you've become drunk from the way he jerks inside you. vision blurring when you watch him. your face contracts before the carousel of delight that you are sharing. observing him moan for you, closing his eyes because the feeling is so overwhelming, but opening them again because he doesn't want to lose an instant of you, drinking in your sight.

haechan doesn't leave your face. you catch him enraptured by your expressions and features, contracting with burning pleasure.

a gasp leaves your lips and your pussy clenches when he grabs you and one movement puts you underneath him. your legs spread and rest on each side of his body before haechan throws them to the side, knees together. a scream builds up in your throat when the crushing sensation heightened as he furrow his eyebrows with anguish when your walls wrap him tighter. “a-ahg fuck, you're so good.”

your head lolls back as you feel his cock hammer you relentlessly. heartlessly. fucking you with an unseemly frenzy, hearing him gasp and giggle with joy under your voice screaming his name. biting your lips when a shudder strikes you so hard, that you're nothing more than a tangle of haze and hisses.

your belly vibrates and the pace of his thrusts, his gaze fixed in the way your body crashes with his while he breathes almost artificially. “taking me so good, angel. you love how i'm making you feel? can't help but scream my name so delicious.” your hands bury in the tuft of hair and your legs wrap around his hips when he comes closer, back arching towards him when his mouth lands on your tits and you feel his tongue twirling against your hard nipple.

you feel numb and aching, crying his name when a sudden need to pee strikes you. a burning sensation spreads through your belly and groin, bringing you to the intoxicating sensation of climax destroying your body.

“fuck, s'sweet.”

a painful sharp pleasure fills you up when haechan jerks and thrust you sloppier, a wave of spasms runs through you as the destructive orgasm washes over you from head to toe just as he moans loud before he starts to throb along with your clenching.

he sobs, rocking his pelvis in and out, milking his seed into the condom. he squirms when you wrap your legs and make him bury his cock deeper, bringing him closer to you so you can kiss him.

haechan reciprocates the kiss a little dazed, his head hiding in your neck as he hugs you tightly, still inside you.

that night you dream of the black swan.

୨♡୧

your apartment is quiet. and outside, dusk falls for the gala. the door to the continuous room is wide open but no one is inside, and you remember, that today was gonna be your night, if it wasn't for wongyoung.

malicious whispers meander through, and you're on edge as you watch her in your bed, getting dressed in your clothes.

“what do you think you're doing?”

her gaze lands on you and because of the darkness you can't see her features, but you know it's her.

“i can do the black swan, but the white swan suits you perfectly, i thought that by wearing your clothes it might make me look more like you,” she talks.

you see her smile when she gets up. her shadow lengthens and projects on the wall. “how do i look?”

she makes you feel like you're in one of her illusions where it's easier to replace you; one where she is a better version of you, eager to seal all your experiences; she looks like you.

you look at her with a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief. “take off my clothes.” the uneasy feeling makes you shudder.

“why? haven't you done the same with my clothes?” she chimes. “do you think haechan will fuck me before the performance like he did with you?” she blurts out suddenly, pensive, looking at her reflection in the mirror “you're weak, and pathetic. you let them step over you.”

wongyoung turns on her axis to look at you, and you're both startled. she grins but it's your mouth that curves and then she gets closer to you, yet you're the one who moves.

“i almost had it.”

she grins, “it's my turn now…”

your faces blend when you fall to the ground, and time passes slowly because of the density of a black hole. wongyoung growls and glare at you from below, features erasing and drawing themselves under the fog in your eyes. she shines and becomes null, evolving in front of your eyes until she looks exactly like you, as you shout, “it is my turn! my turn! mine!”

her eyes gaze at you and she grins, before they close shut and her features go serene.

and just then, you remove your hands from her slim neck.

kai doesn't expect to see you that night. he curls his lips, his predatory eyes sparkle. “you're here.”

“they expect to see me, they lust for me.”

“and are you okay with that?”

“they just need the fantasy. i'll be their swan.”

୨♡୧

it's a delusion. maybe you've created him in your head, maybe he's created you in his. there is no more violent delight than to follow the path of the bead of sweat on his sun-kissed skin. his hair becomes more disheveled as he loses his composure. his eyes are like pits of black matter, looking at you through the mirror. half-open mouth with puffed, pink lips, grinning at you while he struffs you with his girth.

your hands went to the mirror in front of you, seeing your face disfigured by pleasure, with furrowed eyebrows and mouth open. the velvety feeling of haechan coming in and out of you, filling the room with your shaky breathing and the clashing sound of flesh as he hammers you. one of his arms crossing your chest while the other rubs your clit.

“fuck, angel. so pretty and ruined.” his breath warms your cheek and your eyes flutter as you feel him grab your body and move it to the nearest wall.

your hands hold on to the solid surface as you are crushed against his body, reveling when he change the pace and fuck you with sharp strokes.

your mind is wiped out clean. eyes closing tightly and teeth grinding at the crushing sensation of his dick between your gummy walls, enticing uncontrolled moans to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“hmm, too much for you, angel?”

you always want to have him inside for longer after you're done. to leave you drunk with crushing pleasure from your long sessions where he restrains you under him. watch him stare at your pussy when he's done fucking you, licking his lips as he palms his length until he's hard as rock again. finger you, eat you, nutting outside while his creamy load paints your folds and leave you dizzy.

“i can take it.” he groans and fucks you harder leaving you brainwashed with nothing more than the feeling of his cock burying deeper, making you rolled your eyes, dazzling, fuzzy.

a sharp tingling grips your inside and your pussy goes numb and aching. fire expanding all over your intimacy as haechan rocks his dick in and out, walls becoming swollen and tighter around his shaft.

a tingling embalming your body fleetingly to the release of your climax as he turns you over your axis and resumes the motion.

“it was beautiful…” you breathe against his mouth. your hands cups his pretty face and you admire what you do to him. dilated pupils and darkened gaze carried by desire. “so beautiful.” the piece. the dancing. his warm body pressed against you as you hugged each other. the euphoria you couldn't contain once you got to the dressing rooms and your bodies collided with needy hunger.

you find yourself bewitched and in a trance looking at his beautiful features. drunk eyes fixed on his lips kept parted and his eyes are flaming for you. rosy cheeks and brows furrowed with pleasure, with a mixture of adoration and burning desire. you content a moan when he comes and kisses you and his mouth taste like heaven, sinking his dick so good into you, your body contorts with fire.

your tears blur your gaze at the full sensation of his beautiful grin, so alluring and glorious, transforming his face like a fallen angel.

“hae,” you say in a dreamy sigh when he carries you and penetrates you at a slow and hard pace. looking at you with misty eyes, he moans hauntingly. “my angel, my angel.” he clenches his jaw, suffering a spasm that makes him jerk his groin, accentuating the strokes. he doesn't take his eyes off you until you see him frowned and roll his eyes alternating between fast and harder, becoming sloppier ‘til he explodes in white ropes of cum, nutting in you.

three sharp knocks echo through the dressing room door. “entry in 5!” you both stifle a gasp between kisses.

haechan slips outside of you and you behold him: sweaty and dazzling. your knees give way before you even think about it and you hear him laugh. eyes aflame with doziness and perversity watching you put his soft member in your mouth, licking his slick clean.

he hums and throws his head back, and you feel that five minutes is enough if you keep moving your tongue like that against his still growing length.

୨♡୧

you feel its presence everywhere. it has never left you, asleep and conscious. it speaks to you. it feels you. it dances for you.

“i always wanted to be the swan queen.” the reflection in the mirror doesn't do justice to her angelic beauty. your gaze searches for her behind you but she disappears.

“he promised me i'd be his swan.” her voice is just a mere whisper.

and it sounds like you.

something flickers, maybe the stolen star in her hands or white flapping wings. you're growing used to it; you've always had a space for it, whether in a room next door or inside you. it takes space, and sometimes, it takes on a life of its own.

she cries. “you stole him from me.”

it takes time for you to figure out who she's talking about. whether it's haechan or kai, the answer is the same. “don't make deals with the devil.”

she rushes at you like a fuzzy shadow, and all you hear is the same violent flapping wings, before it goes dark.

“my swan.” kai cradles your face and pinches your cheeks. his face lights up at an epiphany. “pretty, chaotic and obscure. where's my little white swan, did you kill her?” something squirms inside, yet you can get used to it.

you've latched your room. and it's impossible for kai to know that a lifeless body is inside unless he sent her himself and now he knows that if you're there it's because you got rid of the other.

but there is no body. and there's no blood. just a vast void beginning to fill up again.

“it's like i'm seeing another you.” he smiles proudly, as if it is his merit to have lured you over the precipice.

“she set me free.”

kai grins, “who?” all the girls he put against you? namjoo and kazuha? wongyoung? yourself?

the show was over, the performance was brilliant, and a tingling bathes you when wongyoung comes in your direction. “so beautiful, yn. you did so well.” she looks genuine. she doesn't look like the girl in your room.

perhaps it has always been you. “the swan.” one made and remade over the years.

your eyes catch him amongst the dark figures, wild eyes consumed with intense fixation. haechan comes at you and he looks angelic and dubious at the same time with his tousled hair and his distinctive jacket thrown over his shoulder, lips displaying a smug smile as he holds your eyes.

“ah... haechan. he's one of a kind, you see. he fucks with every partner he's ever had. maybe that's his ritual.”

“i know.” you grin. “some methods are darker than others.”

you need to make some enemies to crack your soul with blows, let it empty, and fill it with something more volatile. then, you let it run free.

[taehyungsgrowl]

i missed u - myg x reader

ex boyfriend yoongi...

lately @desertsunflower00 and i have not been able to shut up about an ex boyfriend!yoongi au so here i am trying to bring it to life :')

please be nice! i haven't written (for fun!) in about a year, but it's been encouraged by my therapist so here we are!

not proofread!

pairings: yoongi x y/n

warnings: feelings + avoiding feelings, exes, angst, smut (sex, making out, dry humping, hickies, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism (sorta?)

word count: 3,000

(also noteworthy: when I started this I didn't think it would be angsty, but it got away from me lol. definitely have an alternate ending in my drafts w a not as happy ending lol but I did my best to give these idiots hope in this one)

Yoongi noticed the goosebumps on your arm caused by the cool air blowing from his car. Without a second thought he adjusted the temperature to make it more comfortable for you.

He also noticed the way your eyes glanced from his face, to the hands gripping the steering wheel, and the back up to his face. With that he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

That was the thing about Yoongi. He noticed everything about you. Even after breaking up with him he wasn't able to erase the way he responded to you - or the way he knew you.

You sighed, forcing your eyes off of him and back on the road ahead of you. The pink sky was slowly deepening into dark shades of indigo and violet. Your heart squeezed in your chest thinking of the way things had happened with Yoongi.

"I thought I was supposed to be the quiet one," he looked over at you, soft smile on his face. Your leg continued to bounce in nervousness.

"I'm just thinking," you hope that would satisfy him enough, but just as well of Yoongi knew you - you knew him.

You knew Yoongi probably better than you knew anyone else. Yourself included some may argue.

"Hm," he hummed unimpressed with your response. "Do you want me to take you back home? If you don't want to -"

"No!" you cut him off, looking back over at him. "I want this. I missed you," you admitted. You felt your face warm and you hoped Yoongi didn't notice the nervousness coming from you.

But of course he did.

His eyes met yours for what felt like an entire minute. A million things unsaid in his gaze.

A million things you weren't sure if you were ready to hear.

But he knew that.

Instead of saying all the things he wished he could, he let out a breath he had been holding and steered the car in a different direction.

You knew the way to his house - which is where you thought you were headed - but this wasn't it.

"Where are we going?" you question, watching the tall trees as you pass by.

"We need to talk - really talk," he looked at you when he emphasized the words, "and I can't do that if I'm driving so," he points his chin forward, showing you were approaching the lake nearby. "We're making a pit stop," he smiled your favorite smile. The smile that made his eyes crinkle and his gums show proudly.

He stopped the car after parking it to perfectly face the waterfront. The remaining sun shimmered off the water. Families at the playground were packing up their things and loading their kids in minivans.

"Really talk?" you shift in your seat to face him. "What does that mean?"

"Well," he slowly reached forward and used the knuckle of his index to lift your chin to meet his deep gaze. "When you texted me earlier and said you missed me and wanted to see me..." he let the question hang in the air for a moment, taking in every detail of your face.

"What did that mean?" he finished his sentence.

Was he regretting this? You shouldn't have reached out. Maybe you should have listened to the little voice in your head - he didn't want the same thing you did.

"I do miss you and I wanted to see you." you scanned his face for any sign that he didn't actually want this as much as you.

"Right," he nodded, "But since you got in my car you've acted like I'm some stranger," he chuckled, "It's just me, Y/N."

"Did you miss me?" the question leaves your lips before you can even think to stop it.

"I don't think I'll ever stop." he spoke the words with such reverent force it makes your heart still for a second.

It's your turn to nod - agreeing with all the unspoken words between you.

With as small as the interior of his car is, you still feel him too far away. He's less than a foot away and yet the small distance feels miles long.

"I don't think much has changed," you admit - your mind racing at all the possibilities if you were to try again with Yoongi. Would it even work? Why was your mind already there? You were here with him now. Just... catching up.

"Well, my hairs gotten longer," he joked trying to ease you. He tugs at his new length. His dark looked so inviting at this length. You fought the urge to reach across and card your fingers through it.

Thick dark hair, slightly curing inward at the nape of his neck. It was probably long enough to pull up into a little bun if he wanted.

"I like it," and the urge won - your hand reaches over and caress his locks.

Yoongi halts - letting you touch him. It was the first time you've touched him since you walked away from him over a month ago.

Had it only been a month? Being without him for that long had felt so much longer.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist before you can pull your hand away from him and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

"You know we don't have to have any answers right now..." he slowly lowered your hand, but continued to hold it - intertwining his fingers with yours. That brought back so many memories.

Locking hands under blankets during movie nights. Secret hand holding under dinner tables. His hand firmly guiding you through crowded streets.

His hands intertwined with yours while his face was buried between your legs.

"I just mean..." his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand in the most soothing pattern, "Let's take it one step at a time okay. This doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean."

"Okay," you sigh trying to relax against his leather seat. It was what you wanted to hear, right? It didn't have to mean anything. It could just be.

It could just be you and him.

No expectations. No promises. Just now.

You let out a deep breath again, looking down at his hand holding yours.

"Does that mean we can go to your place now. To do something other than talk..."

That makes him fill the car with the sweet sound of his laughter. Low, raspy, laughter that sends a message right to your core.

You can't help but adoringly roll your eyes at his response. That eye roll made him know you felt more comfortable than when he picked you up. He could almost feel the bleak tension dissolve and be replaced with a different type of tension.

The type of tension that made him stir in his seat.

Yoongi reaches over to cup your face, pulling you in closer. Gently closing the space between you both. Seconds before he presses his lips to yours, his eyes look into yours again wanting to give you all the answers you wanted.

And with that, his pink lips pressed against yours. Gently at first. Testing the waters, kissing you so softly it almost pained you.

And then he does it again, but this time with so much more force. His kiss makes you gasp against his mouth - his lips taking claim over yours. His silky tongue traced your lips until your tongue met his.

All too soon he pulled away. His cheeks were stained pink and his lips were puffy from the force of your kiss. Yoongi's eyes held a devilish glint in them as he pulled back - knowing he left you wanting more.

"I don't think I can make it all the way back home now," he glanced down at the hardening bulge in his black jeans. You could barely make it out now that the sun had set.

The street lamp beside Yoongi's car set a soft glow to everything. The deep waters now a deep shade of black, reflected back the moons radiance.

You glanced around the lake and take in the stillness of it all. The quiet chirp of crickets somewhere in the grassy sedges. The low hum of Yoongi's engine. His soft breath fanning your face. His fingertips tenderly brushing over your lips.

You placed your hand on his crotch feeling him hardening under his jeans.

"Yoongi," your voice came out whiner than you expected. It was also the first time he heard you call his name since things ended. That did something to him he didn't quite know how to describe. But he swore he felt his heart (and his cock) grow three times in size.

"I want you so bad." The soft lighting pouring into the car made his smooth skin appear even clearer and glassier. You wanted to press your lips all over his face. Cover him in berry stained lipstick marks.

He nodded his head slightly pulling away from you to be able to shift the car into reverse. Before he could place his hand on the gear, you wrapped yours around his wrist, shaking your head 'no.'

"Here," you bit your lower lip, glancing out at the empty lake. "No one's here. No one's gonna see us," you urge, bringing his hand to your thigh.

Before he can say another word, you press your lips to his, mumbling an almost incoherent, "I can't wait," against his mouth.

"Fuck," Yoongi groaned into the kiss. "Want you too, baby."

Yoongi doesn't mean for the word to slip out, but it does.

It is messy and a little clumsy - much like how your relationship had been. But it's also what makes you and Yoongi so special to each other. There was no need for pretenses of perfection.

He scooted his seat back giving you enough room to climb over the console and into the safety of his lap. His large hands found their home along your lower back; they slipped themselves into your shirt, feeling your smooth skin all the way up to your bra strap and then back down, gripping your hips. "Y/N," he sighed, into your mouth as you grind your hips down on him.

"Let's get these off." he reached into your skirt to find your soaked panties. His long fingers traced along the wet patch you've left on them from grinding on his lap. "So wet," he mumbled almost to himself.

Lifting your hips to help him, he expertly slid them down your legs, helping you get them off. He tossed them aside before placing you back down on his lap, the steering wheel pressing into your back while he slid his hand up your thigh. Dragging each finger over the smooth surface until he was met with your wet folds. "I need to fuck you," he choked out and smashed your lips with an urgent kiss.

You let him fumble with his pants until he is able to free his leaking cock. You wished there were more light in the dim car to be able to indulge in seeing it again. The thick veins along the flushed pink shaft, the prominent head, now leaking with precum. You wanted to take it all in.

Yoongi grabbed his length in his hand guiding you as you align yourself with him. He stroke his cock along your pussy, teasingly tapping it against your clit a couple of times.

"Yoongi, please," you whined at the sudden contact, "I need you,"

"I know, baby," he shushed you, pulling you in for another kiss. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it gently before slipping his tongue in your mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you in closer and you slowly sank down on his aching cock.

You winced at the stretch of his head pushing inside of you. Your arms grabbed on to the headrest behind his head and gripped it tightly as his cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," the word slipped out of your lips against his hot mouth as you felt the fullness of having his cock inside you again.

"You okay?" Yoongi pulled back and scanned your face.

"Mhm," you nodded your head. "It's just so... big," you let out a weak chuckle.

He rubbed circles along your back until his hands found their way to grip your ass.

You began to lift your hips and rocked your body on him. His large hands caught your movements as you ground yourself down on his length. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up momentum you started to ride him.

Completely feeling lost in the bliss of having so close - a part of you wished the skin of your chest could touch his. Everywhere he touched you felt like a familiar flame licking away at the time spent apart.

Like he wanted his hands to erase every minute he spent away from you.

He found his way further into your shirt, cupping your breasts in his hold. His thumbs finding your erect nipples as you bounced up and down his shaft.

The sounds of the chirping crickets and low hum of his engine - sounds that felt so loud in the stillness of the evening were now drowned out by something much more titillating.

Your breathy moans and his low groans were creating a symphony of pleasure - in that moment he swore he'd write a song someday about just how good it felt to have you in his embrace.

"Yoongi," you choked out, your legs trembled beneath you.

"Let me hear you, baby," he said into your ear, peppering sweet, wet kisses along your neck. "Who's making you feel this good?"

"You..." you tilted your head back providing more access to your neck. He sank his teeth into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure.

"You... you're making me feel so good. No one else..." you babbled as he sucked on the most delicate part of your neck.

The spot on your neck that made your thighs squeeze together - but he knew that. He knew every spot that made your heart race.

"No one else, hm?" that smug smile spread across his face again. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off of him.

He noticed your hands gripping the back of his headrest and frowned. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hands in his hair. His eyes silently begged and you complied.

You tangled your fingers in his dark locks and tugged at the root of his long hair as you chased your orgasm.

Yoongi's moan mixed with yours as you pulled on his hair the closer you got to cumming on his cock.

"Keep going, you're doing so well..." his eyes rolled back and his hands gripped on to your hips tightly. You sensed the bruise of his fingertips engraving into your skin.

Just another way Yoongi left his mark on you.

But bruises and hickies fade over time - you weren't sure if the mark he made in your heart would ever really go away.

Not when he looked at you like you hung the stars for him. And you would. You'd give him the stars and moon and everything he asked for if he wanted.

"Gonna cum," he groaned, hiding his face in your neck peppering the skin with little kisses, moaning against your collarbone.

He felt your nails dig into his shoulders as you came undone along with him. Your fluids mixed as he filled your cunt with his cum. You collapsed forward onto him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. Your legs twitched as your orgasm hit.

Yoongi held you until your breathing returned to normal. He idly rubbed up and down your back, softly kissing your temples every now and then whispering sweet praises to you.

"I don't wanna move," you mumbled, your eyes closed just listening to Yoongi's soft, even breaths.

"Then don't move," he brushed his hands over your cheek. "Just stay like this with me."

You let out a tired laugh - could it really be that easy? To stay with him?

You knew there was so much that was still left unsaid.

"I should go home," you sat up straighter on his lap to take a good look at him. You hated how it felt like another goodbye.

"Y/N."

You shook your head and started to lift yourself off of him. you both winced at the feeling of his cock leaving your pussy. Yoongi did his best to help get you clean, wiping up your thighs, silently cleaning you up before you crawled back to your seat.

"Are you regretting it?" his lips were set in a straight line and his tone shot an arrow to your chest. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

"What?" you met his fixed look, trying to read behind the hardness in his eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow waiting for your answer. He didn't bother repeating the question he knew you heard.

"No," you reached for his hand, using both of yours to cup one of his. "Just... not knowing what happens next makes it feel like goodbye again and... I don't think I'm ready for that," you admit.

His eyes soften hearing you admit you don't want to say goodbye to him again.

You didn't know if a relationship with Yoongi would work out or not at this time. Really, what growth could have happened in the month apart to make him ready?

"One step at a time, okay?" he reminded you gently.

You nodded your head, allowing him to pull you back into another kiss.

"I wanna be someone you deserve," he whispered against your mouth.

Every part of you wanted to ignore the ways he had fucked up in the past and tell him it was all okay - but you couldn't lie to yourself or him. You both needed time.

"One step at a time," you repeated those words to him before kissing him back again.

--

THANK YOU FOR READING! was vry nervous to post bc I haven't done it in so long, but this was really fun to write! I didn't realize how much I missed it and ofc I feel so rusty so I hope you enjoyed <3

tagging some of my fav creators on here: @gimmethatagustd @raplinesmoon @wonhosmistress

(also pls lmk if you don't wanna be tagged! last time I posted I was in a writing network and it was shut down so now idk what the etiquette for sharing/tagging is im sorry fdkgjd ily I haven't been on here in a while but can't wait to catch up/re-read some of my fav fics too)

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

[krys4h]

𝐕𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ☆

𓍯 you're a youtuber who loves vlogging and your boyfriend supports your passion in every way, he treats you like a princess. when you feel a little bit insecure about your stretch marks, he is here to reassure you.

ʚ contents : 3.4k, fluff, comfort, nsfw, au modern setting, chubby!reader, fem!reader, choso is a softie, praise, picnic, shopping, insecurities, reassurance, pet name (love, sweetheart), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, matting press, unprotected sex, smut with plot, porn with feelings, minors dni.

“You ruined it again!”

With a pout on your face, you lowered your phone, placing it on your makeup vanity. It’s been 20 minutes since you tried to do your YouTube video, but your boyfriend ruined the debut every time.

“I was literally just existing.”

“You ruined it by existing,” you pulled your tongue when he rolled his eyes. “You always have that mean look on you, come on.”

Choso sighed and shifted in your bed. He sat on the edge of it, arms back. He looked already tired – as usual -, and wasn’t very cooperative.

“It’s not my channel,” he yawned, and looked at you with sleepy eyes.

“You’re my boyfriend, so basically it’s yours too,” you crossed your arms on your chest, and turned on your chair to be in front of your camera again.

You’ve scheduled your day perfectly for your vlog, do all your chores, and putting on makeup when your boyfriend was taking a nap, so now, you just wanted to do your thing. But Choso decided to be petty today.

“Hey y’all,” you smiled at your phone, “Today I’m with my boyfriend Choso, you’ve already seen him on my others video,” you made a loose gesture of hand in the back to show him. “I’m getting ready for our picnic now.”

He chuckled a bit when he saw you put on some powder, as if you aren’t already baked your face during his sleep. He leaned forward and gazed at you with a soft expression. You always looked so cute when you were doing something you were passionate about, he loved observing you in these type of moment. He glanced at the window, worried about the weather.

“You sure the picnic is a good idea?” he raised an eyebrow, “The clouds are gray.”

“My boyfriend is a little pessimistic as you can see.”

His cheeks turn pinkish, always shy when he’s the center of the attention.

“I was just saying-”

“Look at my new blush, this pink tint is perfect for summer,” you ignored him and got closer to the camera, “I’m so excited to show y’all the news makeup products I’ve bought!”

He sighed and shook his head, you were too cute to be angry at your behavior.

𖥸

Sat near a lake, you displayed on the blanket in the grass what you and Choso has prepared for your picnic. Children were playing next to you, theirs laughs set a sweet atmosphere with the wind breeze that caressed your skins. Choso was indeed being pessimistic because the sky was now clear.

“I told you it was okay,” you teased him.

Choso lay down on the white and red checkered cover, his arms under his head. He sighed, admitting his defeat.

“I was just being thoughtful.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Whatever,” you placed your phone above all of the dishes you’ve prepared, “Look at what we’ve got.”

He sighed again, this time for your attitude.

“What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing.”

You threw a cherry tomato at him and he tried to catch it with his mouth, but his attempt failed when the tomato disappear in the grass. You laughed at him, and he nudged you with his foot.

“Stop making fun of me for your followers,” he got closer to you.

“Why did you accept to film with me then?” you chuckled and handed him a salad, “Eat before I do it again.”

He sat next to you, crossing his legs. He took a bite with his fork at hand, and let out a soft hum. The sun was glowing on his pale skin, he looked so pretty. You paused the recording of your video, and pulled your phone to take a photo of him. You loved how his dark locks of hair brushed his cheeks and how his usual grumpy face was radiant in the sunshine.

“You’re so cute,” you chuckled, sitting on his lap to take good photos of him. “You always look like you have makeup with your eye bags.”

He raised his eyes, his hands on your hips. “I do have makeup on me actually.”

“Yeah, I know,” you rolled your eyes and put away your phone, “Your eyeliner.”

He didn’t play about his eyeliner. He did it every day, every morning. It was his signature look. It was the third times you rolled your eyes at what he was saying.

“Why are you like this?” he asked, his hands was making soft caresses on your hips.

“Like what?” you ate the half of a pair of cherry, and gave him the other.

“Like you’re on your period or something.”

You frowned and nudged him. He avoided your nudge with a smile, but his elbow hit the bowl of tomatoes, and it was pouring into the grass. You leaned over to catch them up.

“You’re a disaster,” you chuckled.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Does I need to have a reason to annoy my boyfriend?” you let out a dramatic sigh.

He shook his head, chuckling.

“Come here.”

He tightened his embrace, and you nuzzled his neck. You yawned, you chose do to your makeup instead of take a nap with and now you were a bit tired. You lay on him, head on his chest, your arms encircling him. He kissed the top of your head.

𖥸

After your picnic you took the tram to go to Harajuku, you wanted to do some shopping with your boyfriend. Still a bit a sleepy even though you took a little nap, you walked next to him in the alleys filled with people. Your phone filmed all of your movements. There were so much stylish people in the crowd, you took inspiration of every outfits you walked by.

“I love going here to get new clothes, there are so many shops,” you said with enthusiasm, filming all the boutiques you passed by. Choso helped you with the angle of camera, and took sometimes your phone to record you when you entered a clothing store and wandered around.

“It’s cute,” he pointed out, seeing you hesitating between a cardigan and a top.

“Which one?”

“The flowers top.”

The lace top was feminine and loose fit. The neckline was deep and the top had roses pattern, it looked like a vintage 2000s top. The cardigan was simple, in a beige color, but had a soft material. You titled your head, your eyes deep in concentration as you chose what to try in the cabin.

“Let’s try it”, you chose the lace top, thinking it was better to get something different from time to time, and your boyfriend liked it so you wanted to please him.

Choso took his supporter role seriously as he filmed everything you were doing and followed you in the store. He sat in the sofa, waiting for you while you were changing in the cabin.

You undressed yourself, but got a bit insecure when your eyes lingered on your stretch marks. The white lines on your hips was one of your biggest insecurities, and the one which wasn’t healed was even worse for you. Your fingers brushed the dark lines, feeling your confidence of the day decrease by seconds as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” Choso whispered, he had stood up, and was leaning against the cabin, still outside. “I turn off the camera, you can talk to me.”

“…”

You crossed your arms around your chest area, tensed. You didn’t want to worry him but you were feeling more and more insecure as you stared at yourself.

“I don’t really think it would suit me,” your voice was low, and lacked your usual enthusiasm.

“Can I enter?”

Your arms tensed, you looked down before accepting. He tossed the curtain cabin a bit at the side, enough to put his head inside. When he saw your head looking down, his gaze softened.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t even try it yet.”

“It’s a bit transparent around the hips,” you hesitated, fidgeting in your place.

“And?”

“You know it already.”

He sighed softly, and nodded. Of course he knew, when the two of you were intimate, he noticed how you tensed every time he touched your hips and grazed your stretch marks.

“I already told you it’s normal.”

“I know, it’s my body,” you frowned, you were being a bit defensive as it was a sensible subject for you.

You kept your head down and Choso stared at you, worried about you. He entered the cabin, you backed down a bit to let him have some space. You were overwhelmed by his cologne as the little space surrounded you. He smelled so good, you loved his scent.

“You’re so pretty that you make my heart aches every time I look at you,” he pointed your top, “and you’re telling me this thing took your smile away?”

Flustered, you chuckled a bit. He tried to make you feel better and was good at it. You stared at the floor, resisting the urge to smile at his compliment.

“It’s just lines, love.” his fingers brushed your stretch marks, he bent over you to your level, his voice near your ear. “You’re gonna try this top, okay? I chose it because I knew it would look good on you, you have to trust me.”

His voice soothed your insecurity, and your body relaxed a bit, loosening your arms.

“Okay…” you nodded, still a bit hesitant.

You took it in your hands, they were a bit shaky because it was difficult for you. You put on your top in a slow motion, your heart racing at your future sight in the mirror. When you finished dressing yourself, you glanced at the mirror with reluctance.

Choso whistled, his eyes brilliant, his sexy smile on his face.

“Look at you, seriously, you’re divine.”

Heat came in your face as he complimented you, his gaze loving. The top enhanced your chest and sublimated your bust. It fell perfectly on your hips, your gaze was focused on your dark lines as you grimaced.

“Stop it already,” Choso wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and nuzzled your neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

Honestly, you wanted to cry at how sweet he was to you. You were feeling so vulnerable in his arms, you needed his reassurance. He pressed soft kisses along your neck, his warm breath brushing your skin.

"Don’t ever put that face in front of me again."

𖥸

Choso bought the top and the cardigan for you, he didn’t hesitate to pull his card for you. You continued to do your shopping while vlogging, your phone in hands. The moment in the cabin reassured you and you were feeling better for the rest of the day. Choso wanted you to feel like a princess so he bought everything you wanted and carried your shopping bags during the whole afternoon.

You slumped on the bed, exhausted by your day. Choso chuckled seeing you, dropping your shopping bags in the floor.

“You’re still tired?”

“Yeah,” you yawned, melting into the covers. You didn’t even have the force to undress yourself and put on your pyjamas.

“I’m gonna get a shower.”

You nodded, your head on your pillow, eyes already closed. The water sounds soothed you to sleep, and you wake up only when you felt a hand apply cotton on your face. You opened your eyes, and Choso was removing your makeup.

“Thank you,” you whispered with a sleepy voice.

He gently caressed your face with cotton pads, makeup remover in his other hand.

“You’re gonna have a lot of editing tomorrow.”

You smiled softly, your eyes half closed.

“Yeah, but I love doing that,” you yawned again, “it clears my head.”

He finished what he was doing, throwing away the used cotton pads. He joined you in bed, pulling the covers. He bent over you, staring at you.

“You really want to sleep, or…”

Your smile widened, you stood up on your elbows.

“I’m not that sleepy.”

“Good, you were giving a hard time today.”

“Mhm?” you raised an eyebrow as he lay down next to you, and leaned to kiss your neck.

“I didn’t lie when I said you were divine. If you knew the things I wanted to do to you in the cabin…”

Your stomach warmed, and you were starting to feel very hot.

“You can do them now,” you brought him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled against your skin, and didn’t waste time. His hands slid under your shirt, you squirmed when he touched your love handles, his touch was loving. He pressed soft kisses against your throat as his head went down. He grabbed your waist, pressing your body against his. You closed your eyes, sighing.

“You smell good,” he whispered, his dark hair brushed your chin as he moved his head down.

His hands was busy undressing you as his lips wandered on your collarbones, and soon, your chest. He threw your pants somewhere in the room, and his fingers rubbed your clothed cunt, his touch eager. You relaxed your body, ready to be taken care of, and dipped your hands in his hair, inhaling softly.

“You know, I love how you touch me.”

“You do?” his smile widened on your skin.

The sentence sounded weird in your ears, so you were kind of embarrassed and you chuckled, a bit nervous.

“It’s like… I’m a precious thing to you, and everything you do is to please me. I feel like a princess.”

He listened to you as his fingers rubbed the already wet spot in your panties, your legs fidgeted in bed at his motions.

“Good, it means I’m doing the good thing.”

“You’re always doing the good thing.”

“Are you trying to make me more hard than I am, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you took off your shirt and threw it into the room.

He lowered your bra cups with his teeth and wrapped his lips around your nipple. You tugged at his hair when he encircled his tongue around it, sucking it with his eyes closed. He slid his hands under your underwear, and he smiled at your sighs as he traced circles on your sweet spot. You let yourself be taken care of, your eyes closed and your back arching.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, your tits stuffed in his mouth.

He still had his eyes closed, but he knew. He knew how sexy you would be looking if he opened his eyes, and raised his head to gaze at your arched back on the bed. He would see your soft flesh folding as your squirmed, and his jeans feels even more tight just thinking of it. You were a masterpiece, and he was your most beloved fan.

He toyed with your clit, his fingers wet as his tongue explored every each of your breast. He parted your lips, and fingered you with his index as his thumb rubbed against your clit. A gasp escaped your mouth as the soft wet noise of his fingering surrounded the two of you. He dived two fingers in you, and raised his head to kiss your lips, swallowing all your moans.

“So warm for me,” he smiled against you as he thrust his fingers in you.

You panted as you spread your legs, standing up on your elbows.

“I love you,” you breathed, feeling very hot.

You murmured words of affirmations but they were muffled by his kisses and chuckles. He has a sweet smile on his lips as he made out with you, your words were making his heart flutters.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

And he was going to love you even more when he deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking around yours. He conveyed all his feelings in the kiss. You clenched around his fingers, moaning into the kiss. Being fingered while having his mouth on your tits was heaven, but it felt even better when he kissed you like that.

He curled his fingers to stimulate your g-spot, and you saw stars. Chuckles followed your orgasm, as you gasped for breath.

“You’re so pretty,” he praised you every time the two of you were intimate, and you smiled sweetly.

“I’m afraid I’m being very excited with you, and you’re not gonna have any force to edit tomorrow.”

You took off your panties as you laughed, he took time to look at you, biting his lips as he stared at your thick hips.

“I’m serious.”

“I believe you.”

Knees on bed, he unbuttoned his pants, staring at you through it. You felt a bit vulnerable under his gaze, your insecurities on display. You weren’t feeling self-conscious since he was praising you, but you still thought at how you must looked now. With a subtle gesture, you tried to hide your belly rolls by placing your forearms on top of it. Choso saw through you, and frowned.

“Don’t even think you about that,” he tossed his pants and boxer around and bent over you.

He removed your arms and crossed your wrists above your head. With the hand he had left, he wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned down, his forehead brushed yours.

“When you’re looking at me, what are you seeing?” he whispered as he buried himself inside of you, in a slow motion.

The sensation of your warmth made him hiss, pressing his forehead against you.

“You’re seeing a man who love all of you, and I mean, everything.” he breathed, he slowly began his back and forth, pushing his cock deeper. “Even this.” his hands on your waist lowered on your hips, and he grabbed the flesh.

You felt full, filled by him, and was at a lost of words. His words was making you more vulnerable than you were already, and your arms tensed in his grip. Your eyes lingered on his, his face so close, you felt even close to his heart. The moment was so intimate.

He thrust into you, his gaze never leaving you. You were surrounded by his cologne, the fruity scent of his shampoo as he made love to you, his strokes deep and slow. You were feeling even more naked under his stare, as if he could see all of you. He sank into you, his grip on your hips tighter.

“You understand?” he whispered.

“Y-Yeah,” you struggled to respond, the atmosphere was so thick, he was making you weak.

“Good.”

He kissed you on the forehead, and you wanted to cry. He was so gentle with you, treating you with the upmost care. You sniffled, feeling a bit emotional. He loosened his grip on your wrist, and his hands came to cradle your face as his hips rocked against you. He pressed a sweet kiss against your lips, and his hands grabbed under your knees, lifting you to put you legs on his shoulders. You panted as the new angle gave you more sensation, his length buried deep in your puffy folds.

Every of his thrusts was an invitation to love yourself, a silent word of love. Not very silent because the room was filled by the skin rubbing sounds, but a quiet affirmation of his desire for you. Every of your moans accompanied his strokes, he took pleasure just by seeing you pant. You were everything he wanted, and he needed you to understand that for good. He pressed you against the mattress, his kisses welcomed every of your moans.

“I need you,” he panted out.

Your legs were shaking on his shoulders and you were dizzy, he was fucking you so good. You scratched his back as you moaned against his lips, making out with him. Your second orgasm was close, you felt it. The angle was perfect, his cock plunged within you with the perfect rhythm, his raspy voice in your ears, everything was so perfect and intimate. His weight crashed you as he fucked you into the mattress, holding your thighs. You felt so full, your breath was shattered.

Your whimpers when you came was muffled by his lips on yours, he slowed down his hips as you arched your back. He pressed soft kisses on you neck while you were catching your breath. He wasn’t finished with you, he intended to love you all night long as he promised.

“I just started, sweetheart.”

The night will be long, like his love for you.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[peachhcs]

the perfect moment

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

someone requested will and samy's first time, so after trying to write it for nearly a month, it's finished! again, please read at your own risk, this is very explicit!!

3.6k words

warnings: 18+, smut with a tiny bit of plot, but like all of this is smut again. p in v (protected!), slight handjob, hair pulling, sucking on boobs, a bit of praising, very consensual, making out, hickeys, grinding, i think that's it??

this is how i pictured samy and will's first time going! because will's whole life was hockey, he never really had time for a lot of experimenting. there's small talk of religion in this (idk if will was/is actually catholic but somewhere i thought he was. take it all with a grain of salt, this is just how i thought it would go/how will and samy would be :))

au masterlist

one of the last days before summer ended and will couldn't stop thinking about one thing.

will's eyes glued themselves to samy's lips and the way she applied chapstick making her pink lips even more pink and glossier. he couldn't look away even if he wanted to because all he could think about was kissing that chapstick right off and the feeling of her plump lips against his own.

something had the blonde's brain wired up the past couple of days.

he couldn't stop staring. everything samy did, will's eyes were on her. drinking water? staring. playing volleyball? staring. jumping into the lake? oh, will was definitely staring.

he just couldn't tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried. something was making the blonde's brain go haywire. he'd get worked up over the littlest thing like seeing the brunette in one of his boston college t-shirts and just her swimsuit. one second he'd look and the next he'd be painfully hard.

will felt like a fucking fifteen-year-old again going through the stages of puberty and getting hard at almost everything. he felt pathetic, really—stepping away to relieve the ache in his cock because him and samy have only been dating for two and a half months and the farthest they've gone was making out with shirts off.

he didn't know what too soon was and he did not want to make her uncomfortable with his weird boyish desires that had been creeping up a lot more lately.

so will suffered in silence and it was fine for a few days until him and samy caught themselves in a heated make out session while everyone was outside.

the boy nipped harshly at her lips, tugging her hips impossibly closer against his own. samy giggled—music to will's ears. her own fingers danced around in his hair, twisting it and tugging at the roots leaving the hockey player to see stars.

she shifted against him and will's boner pressed against her thigh. whether she noticed it or not, she didn't say anything. usually, neither of them would mention it when they started making out and they'd ignore it, but this time was different.

"are you always this hard?" samy breathed against will's mouth, pulling apart slightly.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered out earning a smile from the brunette.

"you're really hard," the girl commented making will blush embarrassingly hard—like whole face a tomato in seconds. he immediately shifted away from her, feeling embarrassed about how turned on he was from just kissing for five minutes.

"s-sorry?" he didn't really know what to say, but samy raised her eyebrow.

her boyfriend—a 6'0, forward, hockey player—was sorry that he was hard? she's known will her entire life for having such a hard outer shell—seeing him stand before her bright red and nervous seemed like such a different person than she's known, but samy didn't think it was a bad thing.

"why are you apologizing?" the girl laughed, pressing her hands against his torso.

"i-i don't know. i-i don't wanna make you uncomfortable?" will struggled finding the right words. he had a hard time reading samy's face which was rare considering how close they were.

"do you think i'm uncomfortable?" the girl wondered. will stared at her for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"no.."

"you're right, i'm not. i think it's hot that you're hard. i mean, i'd be worried if you weren't," she laughed, easing some of the tension in the boy's shoulders.

the girl placed a finger on his chest, slowly dragging it down. she wanted to try something, watching the way a shaky breath escaped will's lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open under her touch.

the once stable boy seemed to crumble in her hands and boy, did that do something to samy's head and ego.

she carefully pushed the blonde back onto her bed where he stared up at her with a look in his eyes that was a mix of confusion and intrigue. a gentle smile spread across samy's lips knowing she wanted will to feel as comfortable as possible because at the end of the day, he was her best friend and the two have known each other since they were babies. this side of their relationship was still so fresh and new.

will's hands found their place on her hips as samy straddled his lap. this wasn't anything new. she was usually on his lap when their kiss became more heated, but right now, the feeling of her thighs pressed against both sides of will's legs did something to him. his hands shook while his heartbeat grew more rapid with each kiss they shared.

"you okay?" samy wondered between kisses. she could feel his rapid heartbeat from where her hands held their place at his neck.

"mhm, yeah," will managed between heavy breaths.

with that, samy continued kissing her boyfriend's lips while her fingers felt his silver chain beneath his shirt. she curled the metal around her one finger, slowly edging it out from under the shirt. the blonde was very aware of her hands on him, her touch like fire on his skin. the metal now dangled above his clothes along with the small cross pendent hanging off the end.

samy's hands dipped further down, attaching to will's neck and dragging back down his torso. a noise sounded from the back of will's throat that was a mix between a moan and whimper as samy's hand got dangerously close to where the boy wanted her touch the most. he's actually thought about this moment for weeks, always imaging it and hoping it'd become a reality.

finally, her hand palmed his bulge through his shorts. will's brain short-circuited, a loud "fuck" escaping his lips and then a "wait. wait."

samy immediately pulled her hand away, eyes jumping back up to her boyfriend's, "what?"

will's mouth worked faster than his brain, cursing to himself for making her stop before he could even think about it. his face flushed while samy searched his gaze worried she did something wrong or moved too fast. what she didn't know was that will wanted her to keep going. he just...how did he tell her this without her most definitely laughing at him?

"i-i've never..i've never done this..before.." the hockey player managed to get out.

a silence fell betweem them as samy took in his words and will quickly started internally panicking.

"oh."

that definitely wasn't the response will expected nor the statement samy expected from her boyfriend.

"oh? good oh? bad oh?" the boy searched her eyes, growing conscious of his revelation. maybe he shouldn't have told her.

"no, no, no. not a bad oh. just..surprising?" samy gently laughed, pulling her fingers through will's hair again. his eyes softened out, turning into puppy-dog eyes.

she did not think will was a virgin. the youngest hughes for sure thought will messed around in his dev years considering all of the girls that were always at the games and the ones his friends constantly talked about. he was a catch, so this news was very surprising to samy.

"oh," will muttered, unsure of how to feel, maybe embarrassed? ashamed?

hockey had always been will's number one. since he could walk, the only thing taking up space in his brain was hockey. hockey, hockey, hockey. girls was never something on the blonde's mind. not nearly as much as the sport he loved. wanting to be the best and prove how good he could be, will devoted all of his time to the ice which meant limiting his social interactions. it had always been that way and for awhile, will didn't mind. he went to an all boys school before moving to michigan, so it wasn't even a problem.

the status of his virginity or experience never mattered with who he was with because the guys were as locked in as he was—maybe not ryan when he started dating julianne, but their minds never wandered off too far. all of that changed when things in will's mind started shifting some years ago, when samy started taking up the spot hockey once did. soon, all his mind could think about was the girl he always saw as an annoying sister.

"hey, hey, don't feel embarrassed. it's normal," samy read the look on her boyfriend's face, quickly making him look at her. will just flushed even more under her stare.

virginity was a concept will heard a lot about growing up catholic. going to a catholic high school taught him a lot about "waiting until marriage" which wasn't something the boy entirely agreed with. his views definitely changed as he got older and thought less and less about his religion. obviously, not completely, though. the silver pendent dangling off his neck was a small reminder keeping him tied in, but that didn't mean he wanted him and samy to stop doing whatever they were about to do.

"h-have you..done this before?" will didn't even know if he wanted to know the answer. a pang of jealousy bubbled in his stomach at the idea of some other guy doing this with samy before he could.

"uh..yeah, but not a lot. like twice or something," samy quickly mumbled.

"oh."

"it was with that guy i dated briefly junior year. it wasn't anything crazy," the girl filled in making sure will knew she was no where near super experienced, but she knew a thing or two.

'"right," the blonde nodded. he remembered that guy a little too well, never really fond of him whenever he was around.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to," samy said softly, caressing her boyfriend's cheek. he leaned into her touch.

"i want to..i just..i don't really know what to do past making out," will mumbled shyly, avoiding her gaze.

"that's okay. i can help," the girl encouraged with a smile. the hockey player met her eyes seeing how reassuring they looked.

"okay," he mumbled, smiling.

with that, samy attached her lips back to will's lips. the two shared another passionate kiss, the blonde's confidence slowly returning as he worked his tongue into the girl's mouth. she hummed, slowly dragging her hands through his curls before shifting lower again.

will felt drunk on her kisses. he never wanted the feeling of her lips against his to stop. his breath caught in his throat when samy's hand returned to the bulge in his pants.

"do you trust me?" the girl wondered. will nodded.

"gotta say it, will," she urged, needing a vocal confirmation.

"yes, i trust you," he managed through breathy pants.

will felt her grin against his lips as she slowly slipped her hand into his shorts. the boy jumped at the feeling of her warm hand against his clothed cock. "fuck," he let out.

"okay?" samy wondered.

"mhm, okay," the boy said, quickly nodding his head as samy stroked him through his shorts.

will's hips stuttered uncontrollably. his mind was racing along with the dreams he's had of him and samy doing this. her hand fit so perfectly around his length and god, it was so much better than his own hand.

"ugh, f-feels good," the blonde muttered, somewhat nervous still.

"yeah? feels good?" samy smiled, satisfied with the sounds she was pulling from will. he nodded with his head tipping back a little, struggling to keep his eyes open because he wanted to ingrain this moment into his brain forever.

his open neck was the perfect opportunity for the girl to pounce. she hooked her lips onto his throat, quickly sucking which pulled a guttural moan from within the boy. he bit hard on his lip in fear that someone would hear them while samy continued her stroking and nipping his skin. 

from knowing a small thing or two, will decided to try something. he slipped his hand up her shirt until it stopped on her boobs. a small gasp left his lips when he realized samy wasn't wearing a bra under her shirt. 

"okay?" the girl asked sensing his hesitation. 

"y-yes. yeah. you're not wearing a bra," he said a bit bluntly. a tiny chuckle left her lips. 

"is that okay?" 

"more than okay," will breathed. he cupped one breast with his hand, feeling samy's nipple harden under his touch. 

he stated rubbing it in tiny circles—something one of his teammates said girls like and boy, was he right. a soft moan escaped samy's lips which filled the blonde's chest with pride that he did that. 

he decided to keep going by adding a few squeezes on the covered bud. samy squirmed atop his lap which was definitely not helping the arousal in his pants, but will tried ignoring his own needs, wanting to focus all on samy. 

he continued that for another few moments before samy decided they needed their shirts off. she tugged at the bottom of will's and he quickly took the hint as he pulled it over his head. it flew somewhere in her room and his mouth watered a bit in anticipation for samy to lose her shirt. he'd never seen her completely naked on top, only with a bra still on. 

as soon as will saw her bare nipples, he thought he'd cum on the spot. they were so beautiful in a bra, the blonde had no idea they could get even better without a bra. 

"you can touch," samy nodded encouragingly. 

will slowly cupped both hands on her breasts. he squeezed before rubbing both of his thumbs over the buds. another moan left the brunette's lips, her head tipping back. the boy didn't waste a second attaching his lips to her skin like she did minutes ago. 

this wasn't new to will. he was practically a pro at giving hickeys in the most hottest, yet hidden places. samy's arms wrapped around his neck like she wanted him closer so his face was practically in her chest. 

he sucked everywhere across her top half—neck, collarbone, the soft flesh of the tops of her breasts. before will even knew it, her entire nipple slipped into his mouth and made contact with his tongue. 

a louder moan left the girl's lips and will knew he wanted to pull more of those sounds from her. 

"fuck, just like that will," samy moaned out, tugging harshly at the root of his curls. the boy hummed, trying to focus everything on samy and not his desperate need for a release. 

the girl let him go back and forth on each for a few more minutes before pulling him up and reconnecting their lips. will's swollen lips were slick with his saliva all while he tasted samy's signature gloss: strawberry. it made him dizzy in a good way because all he wanted was to kiss all of it off. 

"think you're ready?" samy wondered, not wanting to move too fast. the hockey player quickly nodded feeling the strain in his shorts and the way his hips were just involuntarily grinding against samy's core. 

"so ready." 

with that, she climbed off his lap, instructing him to pull his shorts and underwear down. samy dug through her drawer for a condom, flashing the imfaous rapper before pulling her own shorts down as well. will's entire mouth watered seeing her almost completely naked besides her underwear. 

"you're so gorgeous," the blonde muttered, not even able to tear his eyes away. 

will sat with his cock out where it occasionally twitched against his stomach. the tip was red and definitely ready, although he grew a bit conscious under samy's longing stare. 

did she not like it? was he not big enough? was he too big? 

the worries clouded will's brain until samy climbed back onto her bed, stroking her boyfriend's cheek to bring him back to reality, "remember, you can say no or stop at anytime, okay?" 

"i know," the blonde nodded. 

he watched his girlfriend rip open the rapper with her teeth which was quite literally the hottest thing he's ever seen. she found his gaze, silently asking permission to touch him. 

when he nodded samy's hand slowly wrapped arpund his length. her hand was enough to make him jump, "fuck." 

the precum oozing from the pretty tip was helpful as lube. as samy's thumb rubbed along the slit, will's head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut this time and his hands gripping the bedsheets. 

"so, so pretty, will," the brunette praised earning a large blush on his cheeks. 

"you think so?" he managed to get out through breathy pants. 

"mhmm. you're so big," when he found her gaze again the boy nearly lost it. she looked at him through hooded eyses, a mix of love and lust in her features. 

once will had enough, samy slowly slid the condom down. the plastic material caused a stutter in his hips and a small curse leaving his lips at his girlfriend's gentle touch. she fell back onto the bed, ushering the boy to follow her lead. 

he hovered over her, their breaths mixing together in slightly nervous pants. will's cock throbbed at the feeling of samy's entrance so close, yet he never broke eye contact. "just go slow and not rough," the girl explained. 

"right, of course," will nodded. 

he took ahold of his length, carefully directing it to samy's hole. the boy bit his lip, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach that he wouldn't do it right. the further he pushed his hips forward, the more his tip slid into samy. 

they let out loud moans at the first contact. "oh fuck," the boy moaned out. 

"like that, will. feels good," samy encouraged, gripping onto his biceps. 

he pushed himself further in, resisting every urge to thrust in, but his self-control was slipping fast. finally, he bottomed out. a mix between a sigh and groan escaped both of their lips. samy wrapped her legs around will's while they took a second to adjust. 

god, he felt even better inside of her. will thought the same as samy's walls squeezed every inch of his length along with his need to cum already. 

"whenever your ready," samy rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

"yeah, in a second. fuck, you feel so good," the boy muttered out. a thin line of sweat glistened across his forehead and at every inch where they were connected and touching. 

everything was so overwhelming for the hockey player. samy's boobs pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped around his, her squeezing him like her life depended on it. 

finally, will found it in himself to slowly start moving. he carefully raised his hips until just the tip was inside before pushing back in. 

"yeah, shit. so good," samy's praises fueled will's confidence as he picked up his pace little by little. 

"mm, fuck. you feel incredible. you're so beautiful," will rambled through his immense pleasure. 

he found a good speed while samy tried meeting his thrusts as well. the room filled with sounds of their sex and fuck, did they really hope no one walked by her room. 

will definitely wasn't going to last long. samy knew that based on how sensitive he was and the way his cock throbbed inside of her every time she squeezed a bit harder. the boy hid his face in the crook of her neck as his panting increased and incoherent thoughts tumbled from his lips. 

"oh fuck. fuck. yeah, mm—not gonna last," he managed through broken pants. 

"it's okay, you can cum," samy squeezed his shoulders. 

"want you to cum too," will had enough mind and knowledge to know that samy needed pleasure and a release too. 

he stuck his one hand between them, remembering from another teammate where the clit was. his fingers quickly rubbed it in fast circles wanting samy to release before he did despite his stittering hips and need to cum so close. 

samy's own hips stuttered at will's touch. she bit hard on his shoulder, trying to keep quiet as her climax approached. the pleasure overtook the pain, so will hardly felt a thing. 

"yeah, fuck. right there. keep going. don't stop." 

"god, i'm so fucking close. gonna make me cum. please tell me you're close," will urged, not sure how much longer he could hold back his load. 

"so close, will. keep going, please," the brunette nodded, voice high-pitched and squeaky. 

the dam broke. samy's climax hit her hard, her back arching off the bed further into will's chest. he wasn't far behind, spilling into the condom with the uncontrollale thrust of his hips and the string of curse words leaving his lips. 

"oh god, fuck. oh fuck," will collapsed, sweaty and spent. 

his hips continued in little stutters with a bit of aftershock. samy wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as his face hid in her neck trying to regain his lost breath. 

"did so, so good will. so good," the girl praised, kissing the side of his head. 

"best first time ever," the blonde sighed. 

he finally lifted his head to meet her gaze. his curls stuck to his sweaty forehead, but the smile never left his lips. samy just giggled, "glad you think so." 

will slowly pulled out, groaning at the feeling of his cock slipping out. he pulled the condom off, placing it in the trash before laying back down and scooping samy into his arms. 

"not so bad, right?" the brunette raised her eyebrow. 

"with you, it was perfect," his words made her flush. gentle kisses were placed against her skin trying to savor everything from the best moment ever. 

[eroselless]

─────────────── sommer house // 2

series summary: After starting a new job at a prestigious museum in London, you form a close friendship with Helaena Targaryen. You're surprised when she invites you to stay at her family's estate for the summer holidays. [2.7k]

[aegon targaryen x reader, modern!HOTD AU ]

masterlist | previously

warnings: none, i think!

note: i'm so sorry it took me a little bit to get this out. i've been prepping for a big trip coming up soon, my head has been a little everywhere recently. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

The rain that had accompanied you on the way out of London had ceased by the time you arrived at the Targaryen estate. The sun was dipping under the horizon, painting the sky in a soft orange and pink hue. The windows are still streaked with rain as you push off the plush seat and step out of the car. You stretch your arms above your head, loosening the muscles tightened by the long drive. 

Taking a deep breath, your eyes scan the scenery before you. The stone walls of the house seem to grow from the landscape, it’s garbled roof echoing a serene, timeless elegance. Tall trees and lush greenery frame the manor, flowers blooming in vibrant bursts along the pathway to the house. The silence is tranquil, punctuated only by the occasional wail of a passing bird. 

With your bags taken by a man who introduced himself as Criston, you begin to follow Helaena up the gravel path. Her steps fall softly as she leads the way. The look in her face is soft and gentle, hiding much behind her eyes. The more you look at the manor, the more it resembles an enlarged and elevated cottage or even a mix between a cottage and a castle, if such a thing existed—homey, alluring, and comfortable. 

You enter the home, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and old books, a familiar scent you learned to love during your time at the museum. You continue to follow Helaena through the foyer and into the living room, your footsteps muffled by thick rugs lined with intricate patterns. The room is open, the dimming sunlight streaming through a set of two large windows. A grand piano sits in a corner, scraps of paper tucked away in a book on the windowsill next to it. A large collection of books fill the shelves spanning an entire wall. Swords, small statues and animal skeletons are scattered around the room and hanging on the walls. There’s even a collection of insects pinned in frames, butterflies of all colors and sizes. 

The room is empty save for a silhouette sitting at one of the windows. It overlooks the vast ground of the estate, eyes watching two figures as they lounge outside by a small lake just beyond and below the window. 

“Mum,” Helaena calls out, wrapping her knuckles against the doorframe where the two of you have stopped. The woman takes her eyes away from the window, taking in a sharp breath before turning to you, a wide smile on her face. 

“Hel,” she calls her, pulling her daughter into her arms, hands caressing Helaena’s hair. Helaena hesitates momentarily before wrapping her arms around her mother. As you watch them, you notice how different they are from each other. If you hadn’t been told before, you would've never known they were mother and daughter. Helaena wore a cerulean sweater with gray trousers, her blonde hair cropped just above her shoulders. Alicent, on the other hand, wore a deep green blouse with brown trousers, her hair pulled away from her face but cascading in long tresses down her back.

Helaena pulls away from her mother, gesturing toward you. “Mum, this is Y/N,”

Alicent meets your eyes, introducing herself. Before you can reach out a hand for a shake, she pulls you into a hug just as she had her own daughter.

She pulls back, hands gently gripping your biceps. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. Helaena’s told me so much about you,” she says, her voice filled with genuine warmth. “Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Targaryen,” you say, smiling.

“Please, call me Alicent. I insist.” Her smile broadens. “Come, let me show you to your room,” she says, guiding you through the elegantly decorated hallways. 

The faces in each portrait seem to follow you as you pass, their eyes windows into the past lives that once filled these halls. It sends a soft chill up your spine. But you can’t help but marvel at the grandeur around you – it’s as if you’ve stepped onto a movie set, a dream.

Alicent stops in front of a door and pushes it open. The room is immense, its pale blue walls bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through a large window. “This will be your room,” she gestures. “Helaena’s old room is just next door. There’s a bathroom that connects the two, but you’ll have plenty of space.”

You step into the room, immediately taken by its charm. The plush bed is adorned with soft pillows, the rugs underfoot are invitingly soft, and tasteful art hangs on the walls, adding a touch of elegance.

“This is beautiful,” you say, spotting your suitcases left at the foot of the bed. “Thank you so much, Alicent.”

Wandering into the bathroom, you’re greeted by a large bathtub that sits in front of an even larger window. On one side of the room are a pair of sinks; on the other, a spacious shower. Setting your things down at one sink, you peer out the window, the soft light peeking in as the sun continues to dip further down the sky. It casts shadows over the grounds. You can see the back of the estate, the sprawling gardens, and the lake.

“Make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let me know,” Alicent says. She bids you goodbye and withdraws from the room, reminding you that dinner will be in about an hour.

Leaving you alone, you sink into the lavish plush armchair, feeling completely at home. Your eyes peer out the window, every time finding something new to look at. In the distance, you can see stables and what looks like an old church with people pouring out. There’s a treeline just beyond the property that looks like it goes on for miles. Getting lost trying to find the end of the forest, your eyes begin to feel heavy and you find yourself drifting off. 

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's not until a while later you hear your name called softly from the doorway. Shifting out of your relaxed stupor, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and spot your blonde haired friend peeking at you from the doorway, a gentle smile on her lips. She raises her eyebrows at you and you shove her shoulder with yours before following her down the grand staircase. As you descend, the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your stomach tinge in anticipation.

The dining room is abuzz with activity as the Targaryen family gathers. The two men you saw outside earlier, Helaena’s brothers, stand at the entrance of the dining room, conversing quietly. Aemond and Daeron stand taller than you, both offering you polite smiles. There's a hint of reserve in their eyes, making the nerves in your veins accelerate a little more. 

You’re surprised at how similar yet so different they are from each other. Both share a sharp chin and lanky limbs long and lean. Their clothes contrast each other in style but compliment their individual characteristics. Their hair is a pale blonde like Helaena’s – Aemond’s long locks flowing down his back, while Daeron’s is cropped short above his ears.

“Welcome,” Aemond says, his voice smooth and measured. He extends a hand, and you shake it, noting the firm yet gentle grip.

“Good to see you,” Daeron adds, his smile a touch warmer than his brother’s. “We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both,” you reply, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Helaena guides you to your seat at the long, polished dining table. The table is set with gleaming silverware and adorned with an array of delicious dishes—roast meats, steamed vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The space is elegant and inviting, with a long, polished oak table set with gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. Soft, golden light filters through antique chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the room. The rich scent of roasted meats and fresh herbs fills the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of the flowers that adorn the table. Your eyes scan over the feast and the new faces, taking in the grandeur of the setting.

You watch as Helaena’s father, Viserys, limps his way into the room, clinging onto Alicent’s arm with one hand while the other pushes on a cane. There’s a thin layer of hair on his head and the side of his face is riddled with scars. His face lights up with a warm smile when he meets your eyes, radiating a quiet strength and dignity. Alicent takes her place next to him, a soft smile adorning her lips. 

You observe the family as they take their seats and begin scooping servings of food onto their plates. The initial nervousness fades as you find yourself relaxing into your seat. You're passed a large plate of potatoes, Helaena motioning for you to help yourself.

Viserys is seated to Alicent’s left, his demeanor kind and relaxed. He looks up with a gentle smile. “So you’re the friend Helaena has spoken so highly of. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you say, returning his smile with genuine warmth. He continues by inquiring about your past, how you came to be in London, what you thought of the weather compared to back home. It made the butterflies return to your stomach as you answered each of his questions but by the time the second course was being served, you felt comfortable in your seat surrounded by the new faces. You can even see Aemond and Daeron’s faces soften towards you, even popping in a question or two. 

“She’s quite the asset,” Alicent remarks with a knowing glance toward Helaena. “I’m sure she’s been a wonderful companion to you.”

Helaena rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re making it sound like I’m her personal tour guide.”

“You’ve certainly taken on that role,” Viserys adds with a chuckle. “And what about your plans for the future? Helaena tells me you’re quite ambitious.”

You nod, feeling a slight flush of pride. “I hope to continue working in the field and eventually contribute to research and education. The experiences I’ve had so far have been incredible.”

The warm hum of conversation continues to fill the room as the Targaryen family settles into their seats. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of voices create a comfortable backdrop to the meal.

Helaena leans closer, her voice a soft murmur. “So, what do you think of the estate so far?”

“It’s even more beautiful than I imagined,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “Everything here has such character.”

Alicent, seated across from you, chuckles softly. “I’m so glad you think so. I’ve always felt that our home has a bit of magic to it. It’s like stepping into a different time, don’t you think?”

You nod, taking a sip of wine that has been poured for you. “Absolutely. There’s something so charming about the way everything is preserved.”

The conversation continues to settle into a comfortable rhythm, but the door creaks open and a figure steps in. The room momentarily goes quiet, all eyes drifting to him. He stands silently in the doorway as he meets the gazes of his family. Alicent rises from her seat at the head of the table, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. 

“Aegon,” she says, her voice tense with unspoken reproach. She reaches for his arm but hesitates as her fingers brush his damp sleeve. With a resigned sigh, he shrugs off his coat, letting it fall in a sodden heap on the floor before it's picked up by a man you swear you’ve seen two of this evening. The muffled thud of the fabric is a silent testament of Aegon’s defiance in the face of her disapproval. He meets Alicent's gaze, and from your spot on the other side of the room, you can see the disappointment lurking beneath the surface of her composed facade. They have much to speak about, but not here, not now.

“Aegon,” Viserys says, his tone a mix of amusement and warmth. It tears him away from the intense stare of his mother. “You’ve finally graced us with your presence. We were just beginning to think you’d forsaken us for the allure of London nightlife.”

Aegon’s gaze sweeps across the room, settling briefly on you. He offers a friendly, albeit slightly reserved, smile. “Sorry for the delay. Work ran late, and I got caught up in a few things.”

He is much different to his brothers. Though he shares the same platinum hair, his appearance is much more disheveled. His hair is tousled atop his head, covered partially by a dark beanie. The beard that is beginning to adorn his cheeks is darker than the hair on his head and there’s a light scent of cigarettes that wafts off of him as he walks. He’s dressed in a loose gray henley under a plaid shirt and dark trousers. 

He takes his seat at the table, his movements casual yet deliberate. As he starts to serve himself, the conversation resumes, though now there’s a subtle undercurrent of anticipation. Everyone’s smiles are warm but not as relaxed as they were before. A different energy seems to run through the Targaryens.

Helaena leans closer to you, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aegon’s always running around with work and other commitments. He’s a bit of a mystery sometimes.”

You nod, spooning mashed potatoes into your mouth, glancing at Aegon as he engages in conversation with his family. There’s an air to him that you can’t quite put a finger on. A look in his eyes you recognized from Helaena, a distance in his eyes, a soft ache that pools in his violet eyes.

Alicent tries to bridge the gap in the silence that is beginning to lull over the table and calls out from her spot on the other side. “Aegon, tell us about your latest project. You’ve been working on it quite extensively.”

Aegon leans back, a forced smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just another one of those things that keeps me busy. Nothing too thrilling.” His reply is curt and short. It’s obvious he doesn’t feel like talking about work, preferring to stick to any other topic. 

The dinner continues with lively conversation, but you notice Aegon casting occasional, subtle glances in your direction. His interest is understated, almost imperceptible, but it lingers. Despite not exchanging a word with him throughout the meal, you find yourself shrinking a bit each time his gaze meets yours.

The conversation gradually wanes, and a moment of silence falls over the room, broken only by Viserys’s abrupt cough. Alicent rises from her seat, signaling to a pair of live-in nurses who enter the room. She whispers something to one of them before turning back to the gathering. Nervousness seems to settle over her as she clasps her hands in front of her, wringing them anxiously.

"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Alicent says, her voice betraying a hint of unease. "We should all get some rest. The big party is just a few weeks away and we have much to plan."

As everyone begins to filter out, moving quietly like shadows in the night, you follow Helaena to your room. Looking back, you catch a glimpse of Aegon walking further down the hallway. His gait is slow and detached, his shoulders slightly slumped, before he turns a corner and fades into the darkness.

"Goodnight," Helaena says with a sleepy smile, lingering at her doorway. "Sleep well. Tomorrow promises to be eventful."

"Goodnight, Helaena," you reply, returning her smile. "Thank you again for having me."

"Of course. Sweet dreams," Helaena says warmly before closing her door behind her.

tags: @mrs-starkgaryen @gloryekaterina

[chukys-mouthguard]

A Shot at Love: meet the 12 eligible bachelors

It’s time to reveal the 12 eligible bachelors on this season of A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au!

Get to know our 12 eligible bachelors, and the special guest hosts of our show, below!

Remember to mark your calendars, A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au premiers Friday July 19th at 7pm EST!

A Shot at Love is pleased to announce that this season’s hosts are Paul Bissonnette and Ryan Whitney!

These two characters are ready to lead our lovely bachelorette through the journey of finding a shot at love with one of our lucky 12 bachelors!

Be prepared for plenty of Pink Whitney shots, and shameless sponsorship plugs (these washed up guys gotta make money somehow, why do you think they took this gig?). They might even have a few special guests stopping by the mansion!

And now let’s meet the 12 eligible bachelors!

Nico Hischier | 25, from Switzerland

Captain of the New Jersey Devils. Sweeter than Swiss Chocolate. Like quite frankly might be the sweetest man on planet earth. Enjoys adventures outdoors, movie nights, and a good puzzle. Loves working out, but be aware he definitely will always have a better butt than you. Very patient as he deals with Jack Hughes all day long. Nico is looking for a forever music festival date.

Jamie Drysdale | 22, from Toronto

His on ice skills make up for those he lacks in the style department. But that’s where you come in, Jamie needs a girl who can improve his fashion sense (cause Trevor clearly didn’t do much for him). He takes pride in his flow, so you never have to worry about him making fun of your self care routine. Jamie enjoys country music, shoulder rubs, and puppies.

Matt Rempe | 22, from Calgary

You’ll never have to worry about being taller than him in heels, as he is quite literally a giant. He loves a good book, and is even the co-founder of the first ever Rangers Book Club with Chris Kreider. Not afraid to fight for you. Guaranteed to make you laugh with his silly catch phrases. Looking for a girl who isn’t scared to clean his battle wounds.

Vince Dunn | 27, from Kawartha Lakes

The best mix of cocky, sweetheart, and a little bit of airhead. Knows he’s attractive, but will still be a complete goofball. A connoisseur of alcohol, could definitely recommend a wine or two. He enjoys video games, nights out, and binge watching a good Netflix show. He isn’t afraid to show his tough side if it comes to fighting for what he wants. Vince is looking for a girl to travel the world in the offseason enjoying the cuisine every country has to offer.

Jack Eichel | 27, from Chelmsford

His real name is John, but he goes by Jack. Be aware he is always going to be the diva of the relationship. Loves any sort of competitive activity, but will never let you win, and will always whine if he loses. Has a big heart and enjoys philanthropic work. Jack will never fail to make you laugh, always having a funny story to tell about another teammate. Jack is looking for a girl who is up for Brunch on Sunday’s, with football on the tv.

Mat Barzal | 27, from Coquitlam

Unique already because he spells his name with one T and not two, Mat is an all around catch. He speaks French, is obsessed with vacations to Italy, and prides himself on his physique. He’s not afraid of designer clothes, and you can guarantee he will buy you nice things. Mat is looking for a girl who will ride scooters with him Italy, and have a cold drink waiting for him on the golf cart after he sinks a hole in one.

Trevor Zegras | 23, from Bedford

Fasten your seatbelt, because with Trevor life is always in the fast lane. Trevor is a ball of energy that will always keep you guessing. Quite possibly a 10 year old trapped in a 23 year olds body. Whether you laugh at his jokes or not, Trevor will always be laughing. He enjoys music festivals, video games, and running his mouth 24/7. If you don’t end up choosing him he’s got Cole and the Hughes brothers as backups.

Quinn Hughes | 24, Bloomington

Don’t be fooled by his demeanor, Quinn is a big teddy bear. Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, he’s got a good amount of pressure on his shoulders. So Quinn enjoys time at the lake house to relax in the off season. Whether it be time on the boat, a round of golf, or time with family, Quinn loves taking time to recharge. He may be shy or soft spoken at first, but when he opens up he’s the biggest goofball. Quinn is looking for a girl that doesn’t mind annoying younger brothers.

Auston Matthews | 26, from Scottsdale

Not necessarily familiar with winning when it counts, but he sure knows how to score. Auston enjoys a day spent outdoors, walking his dog, and is even a closet sewer! So no more trips to the seamstress for you! He is also friends with Justin Bieber, so your wedding singer is already on lock. Auston is looking for a girl who will stick by his side through the ups, but more importantly the downs (cause knowing Toronto there will probably be a few).

Cole Caufield | 23, from Mosinee

The biggest Swifty in the league, though he tries to hide his love for her. He bought a party bus for T Swift, imagine the things this man would buy for you. His smile could light up any room, and there will never be a day he doesn’t make you laugh. Don’t get offended if he occasionally needs time with his boys (Trevor and Jack), they might let you fourth wheel if you’re lucky. Cole is looking for a girl to laugh at all his jokes and belt out T Swift at karaoke after a few beers.

Luke Hughes | 20, Manchester

The youngest of the Hughes brothers, and the youngest in the race for love. Though Luke very much is mature for his age. He prides himself on his attention to detail and how much he’d learn about you from one conversation. Luke enjoys a relaxing Sunday where you stay under the blankets and watch trashy reality tv. He is soft spoken, but your one on one conversations is where he chooses to open up. Luke is looking for a girl who can keep him sane but also bring out his wild side.

John Marino | 27, Easton

Probably the smartest man in the competition, he went to Harvard for crying out loud. John is a big fan of Fall, so he will gladly enjoy all the activities it brings and support your fall girl aesthetic. His ideal night in when he has a day off would be board games or a movie with lots of snacks. He loves to brighten your day with random facts, half of them not ones you believed because they were so random. John is looking for a girl who knows of anything fun to do in Utah, because seriously what is this city boy supposed to do in Utah?

[ladybyakuya]

| BRAZIL + TASUKU TSUBAKINO.

+cw. — advisor!Tasuku Tsubakino x fem!singer!reader, musical au,band au, bofurin as band, mention of show pub ougi bar so manga spoilers, first meeting, usage of some canonical elements, rockstar!umemiya hajime, angst,hurt, misunderstanding ( ? ), confession, smut, mature content ahead. title based on song brazil by Declan McKenna

+wc. — 2k

+syn.— Tsubaki likes you while you know that he loves umemiya hajime and that is where jealousy comes into play but when it does it always turns the world upside down.

+notes. — this is a collab piece via wind breaker server ( the bofurin brothel ) hosted by our beloved mel ( @gimme-hiragi ). i used tsubaki instead of tsubakino because that's how he likes to be addressed. he is one of my favs >:)). dividers by cafekitsune | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @stunie @prettyiwa

The stage curtains are drawn out granting a manageable access for the sunlight to pour into the empty stage. The pebble bar lights are not alive. There is no need for those but only during nights. Tsubaki is staring at the stage with a daze in his eyes as you connect the chords, set the microphone, and grab the headphones. For someone who can ignite the dormant rhythm in people’s hearts with the melody of your voice, you are an eerily silent soul. You clean the headphones with your handkerchief before putting it on. The only sound that could be heard was breathing: one was even like a pond while the other was uneven like a mountain range. Despite how quiet you are, Tsubaki can still pick up the rhythm of your body and soul: the footsteps, the breathing, Tsubaki watches as you take the stance of singing in front of the microphone.  He always does. He comes every Friday morning to watch you practice and as for you, you practice singing without any instruments or gadgets every morning, when the entire bar is in deep slumber. Clearing your throat, you start to sing but at first, just with wordless tunes, scaling your voice.

The lyrics:

{ heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well, he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

Oh, Lord

Oh, Lord }

Tsubaki rests his chin in between the slit of his index finger and thumb, elbow fixed on the table beside the glass of a strawberry milkshake. His eyes straw away due to the jingle of the bell coming from afar that is located at the apex of the back door. Someone is here. Tsubaki can not see them until they step into the main arena. Maybe they are from the staff section he consoles himself. He looks at you to check if you are expecting someone’s arrival at this time of the day but he finds you immersed in your voice. With those headphones on he doubts you could barely hear anything.

The thing is your Friday mornings solely belong to Tsubaki so anyone else is just noise to him but you do not know that. You know that every Friday morning he turns up sharp at 9 o clock without his twin bodyguards. He murmurs under his breath, “The music you play in bars is more real than what I play in stadiums.” and sips the strawberry milkshake through the pink straw.

You cover the microphone with your palm; moving your head away from it a little you retort tartly. “Oh? That’s new. Are you mocking bofurin?”

Tsubaki's red lips have a tinge of the pinkish milkshake he just sipped. He could not even gulp it down. Azure eyes go static, a palm over his mouth. Awkward. Waiting. 

“That’s what I thought. You could never,” you chime with a smile plastered on your face that you often maneuver during interaction of any sort with customers. He finally gulps down the strawberry milkshake. It feels stale and does not help with either the heat or the bubbling tension amongst his chest ribs. The moment you were about to sing again, your eyes switched to the entrance of the bar lounge.

Tsubaki’s sky lake eyes follow as he murmurs, “Umemiya-kun. . .?” it sparkles as if the sun shone upon him after a cloudy day.

Your mouth fell open ajar. How courageous of Umemiya to roam as free as a bird carrying all the fame and fortune on his back. “I hope you’re not looking for a place to hide, Haji.” you quipped gaining the attention of pair of eyes in the room.

Umemiya swigs his palm in front of his face exclaiming with zest, “No. No. Not at all.” He walks towards the stage and stands in front of you. Now, you can see both: Tsubaki and Umemiya. “Can’t I come visit an old friend?”

That would be unusual for a rockstar of his status. He has just started new heights. Recklessness sure follows wherever there is popularity and financial prosperity. Even with all that, it is unusual for him to pay an unscheduled visit for him. Could it be he is out in the wild, hinting at his muse? 

“you’re stuck.” Umemiya’s gigantic smile disappears instantly. Oh! That must be it. He is stuck with his music. “Bingo.” 

“Hmmm. That's what I thought. I mean you can’t afford to pay a visit like this unless you need me.”You pull his leg a little as Tasuku fidgets with the hem of his dress revealing a fair amount of this thigh. How tactless! Or could be intentional? There is a bleak prospect of that so for the better or worse you do not follow the trail of that thought. It's your jealousy wrapped with anger trying to stretch your heartstrings and release it, snapping the string and rewarding you with a bleeding heart.

You excuse yourself for a minute because it truly feels like someone is already tugging at your heartstrings and it's none other than Tsubaki. The way he acts around Umemiya bothers you. The way he acts around you clams your heart but you can not run after that tranquility. Never. Not in this life.

By the time, you come back Tsubaki has already left and Umemiya is sitting, waiting for you by the window side. He spends nearly half an hour trying to schedule a time with you and you can not lie to him. You can not lie to him even if you want to because you have to appease Tsubaki. So, if you agree with him, help him with whatever problem he is facing. 

It was decided that after a gig, the next weekend his staff would come and pick you up from your house and drop you at his house. And, when the work is done his staff will drop you back to your house.

The next morning strikes with a devastation deadlier than death. 

There is a photo of you and Umemiya on the front page. It is blurred just a little enough to not recognize your face but people around you can tell easily that it’s you. Tsubaki certainly can. That’s the only thing that matters, not the contents of the photo or how ambiguous it is. You and Umemiya are standing close to each other, closer than normal people. He is touching your earring and the angle of the photo makes it seem that he is touching your cheek. Damn! These paparazzi. You try not to call any of the Bofurin members because by now the must be busy handling the situation, especially Tsubaki being Umemiya’s sole advisor. It is almost mid-day. You throw the paper in the dustbin and pour liquor before burning it. Sure, you are jealous of Umemiya but you do not pray for his down fall. It makes you feel horrible to even think such a case. If this the price of love you have to pay, you would rather fall out of love. As if you can afford to do that. You can perhaps but not now. You have your reputation to protect.

A few nights later, after your first show when you walk back to your green room you find Tsubaki waiting in your green room without the lights on in the dark Your green room is nothing out of the ordinary except for him. He is like a cilantro in dessert. He does not belong here, in the world of booze and cheap bar lights. 

“What’re you doing here?” you try to sound angry, even annoyed but it is the shock that he hears the most, maybe a fear hidden underneath your voice. So, he does not leave the chair but rather folds his legs, one over the other. The taut and toned muscles of his legs are on vivid display making it even harder for you to focus. 

 “It was easy. I sneaked in.” He responds with so much detest in his heart that it makes you think he is mad about the photo. But he has no right to be, you remind yourself. After all, he is the one to choose to turn a blind eye to your feelings.

“Well, I have another performance so you have to wait.” you tartly spoke walking towards the mirror for some touch-up. Tsubaki watches you as you put lipstick on your lips.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Let me answer you with a question.” You turn your face to him, your hand still being kept on the wooden skin of the dressing table. “Why do you think I didn’t join Bodurin?”

“So, it's true. The rumors are true.” This guy . . . 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The opened lipstick clatters among the cosmetics separating the maroon part from the lipstick case as you throw it away. Tsubaki does not say a word; just spares a glance at the smudged part of your lips, must have happened when you swatted it away.

“All this time, I thought you . . .you liked him. You liked him.”  Tsubaki exclaims in a low voice leaving his seat and coming close to you. “So, I restrained myself. I kept reminding myself—” his fingers linger on your chin. “ That you are not mine to own.” Right! How could you not think of this? Tsubaki the smudged part of the lipstick and you let him. “Now, i don’t have to do that.” he whispers against your lips. You gulp. He still has not let go of your chin. You don’t think he is going to  . . . kiss you, right? He chins your face up a little expanding a little more access towards your collar bones. Tsubaki jocks down, kisses on your exposed collarbone. Just a peck. “That will do for now. Will quiet down the rumors too.” Tsubaki smiles. You look at the mirror to check your reflection. There it is the lipstick mark, as bright as a diamond. You do not dare to wipe it off. You don’t want to. 

Tsubaki stands behind you as you watch yourself in all glory. He moves aside the fall of your hair onto your left shoulder. You tilt your head, eyes glistening as you look at him through the mirror. There is hope. Want. Lust. Desire. . . Tsubaki wet his lips seeing you inviting him but he can not do that, not here. You have a show to host, and people to entertain. So, he unzips your dress exposing your skin. You must either be wearing a backless bra or nipple pads. If not none, you are getting an earful from him later but for now, he proceeds to place a trail of kisses, slow and full all over your back. It is frustrating how you can not see his face or the lipstick marks he left on your back.

Tsubaki stands up after kissing you till the dress would allow him. He zips it up as he stands. “I’ll wait for your show to be over. Then, after the show we are going home.” He whispers into your ear but he is too close so you shrink feeling ticklish all over your body. A few days ago he felt light years away, so out of your reach and now he is standing behind you, as close as he can get for now. 

“I’ll hurry after the show if .  .  .” you can finally find your voice now. Wait, can you sing properly? Of course, you can; you reassure yourself. 

“Oh don’t worry.” Tsubaki interrupts. “ I’ll make sure we will make up for all the time we have lost love.” He holds your hand assuring you that it's okay; he is not running anymore; he is not. If anything, he feels repentance for suffering all these years regretting his feelings for you but now that bitter feeling has sublimed he is so full of love that it feels like his heart will burst at the seams. It's not suffocating anymore. It’s liberating. Love is liberating. OH DEAR! What blind fool he has been to not to see the love you have for him in those galactic eyes.

@underratedcharactercorner @interstellar-inn

[littleroaes]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, tbz

PAIRING ⏵ ( 2nd pov, you ) fem!reader x lee hyunjae, lee juyeon, ji changmin, kim sunwoo, eric sohn

at the last two weeks before the semester; your younger brother leaked your old love letters. when you return to university, you work as a part time assistant for the hockey team. the charming crush of your youth has read your letter and makes a deal to not spread it if in return, you'll be his fake girlfriend for the upcoming house party. that night sets off an event with all five letters.

GENRE ⏵ FLUFF, college!au / university!au, setting around 2013 ( 2010s!au ), 2000s!au ( childhood ), to all the boys i’ve loved before!au, summer!au, some angst since we do only have one end game, childhood friends2lovers, hockey player!hyunjae, playboy (with a soft side)!hyunjae, short fake dating!au side plot, boy next door!eric, frat!eric, rich kid!eric, flirty but shy!sunwoo, old summer love!sunwoo, reader is an medical assistant, lots of pining, mutual pining, cats!!!, nerdy oblivious juyeon, literature major!juyeon, history major!changmin, changmins bad at sports (sorry bub), 3 different types of parties!, a pool party, a house party, a beach party (i don’t even like parties irl!)

WARNINGS ⏵ reader is good at sports ( volleyball ), hyunjae is a little mean/ manipulative at the start, reader gets drunk twice, sunwoo once ( oufff ), swearing a few times ( fuck, shit ), some jealousy, bad dancing (specially from reader), reader's zodiac sign is a capricorn (for a joke), kissing, pet names ( angel, princess ), proofread once ( i feel like ive forgotten something but hope not😭 )

WORD COUNT ⏵ 19 k

playlist i listened to while writing

this is my fic for @deoboyznet the love letter collective event ! if you specifically want to know which members will have more romantic storylines and who reader will end up with; i have written it out at the end of the post! ( if it being your bias is important for reading ex ). though all five will have cute/ flirty moments with reader! i changed to 2nd person pov for no reason😭 i hope you don’t mind here’s a 500 word teaser before commitment ( it’s in 3rd pov for now! )

like and reblog are highly encouraged !

01 . CHAPTER ONE 

IMAGINE THIS; ONCE UPON A TIME, FATHER OF YOURS SAID THAT TO SCOUR THE EVIL THOUGHTS OCCUPYING YOUR YOUNG MIND, ONE ONLY HAS TO WRITE LETTERS. What a magical solution to all the finite problems of youth! That’s what you thought even as you started to come of age and the inevitable falls of love. Each time, when your innocence was consumed, little by little, by the harsh realities of romance; you spit it out on a piece of paper, enveloped it, stored it in a box (extra security measures) and sheltered underneath your bed. 

And now, you’re in university. Back home for the last two weeks before the autumn semester. Laying against the bed–it reeks of school mornings of 2005–and still holds those letters beneath. The pink hues on the pillows are still there, maybe a little washed out. All butterflies stickers from magazines are plastered on furniture that shines, just slightly, when the sun goes down underneath the neighboring roofs, lucent through the open windows. 

You’ve hung out with Eric, a childhood friend. Bicycled down the gravel paths fenced in lines through houses. Side by side, always trying to one up the other like you always did. Take a swim in the same lake, in the same spot those old pictures show. Like those days; the sun never falters until it all stands on the edge between diagonal roofs. 

And amidst your childhood lies your younger cousin. Bare arms touch each other as you lie side by side with feet over the pillows, and noses –the paper box of letters. She told you about a longing crush she has for a boy in the parallel class. When overconsumed by nostalgia; you couldn’t refrain from dusting off the old box. And that’s how you ended up back with the letters you swore to withhold. 

There are five of them. 

The first one is Lee Jaehyun, a three year older popular student who you had a trivial crush on in middle school ( together with everyone else). In all honesty you didn’t know much about him; just that he was cute looking. There’s a sort of emotional torment in recalling the one sided adoration while leaned out the school window to see him play football. Even his name haunts you still in uni as your roommate had a crush on the shining hockey player the entire two semesters.

In short, everyone liked Lee Jaehyun. 

Next is Eric Sohn, your childhood friend, the boy next door, even first love? He has many titles you realize. He lived in an impressive house north from here, one that hosts many parties every time his parents take the trip to their summer resort. At some point, it felt like he knew every kid in town. Luckily, you have never been the jealous type. Despite being each other’s ride or die since ten, you never confessed the secret ways you looked at him back in the sandbox.  

Third is Sunwoo–just Sunwoo; you never got his last name–from summer camp who you even ( jokingly ) got married to. Your first summer at thirteen, away from parents, with kids the same age. When recalling it all back, that summer feels as if taken out of a movie, and you fell head first, three meters deep with the boy. Sunwoo always stood in the center ( bad and good…mostly bad tbh ). You got paired up for the kayak; it pissed rained and your coordination couldn’t take you ten meters. But you remember every word he said as butterfly inducing nonetheless. After that, at night you snuck out of your cabins to watch the stars. And when that summer too ended, you swore your heart shattered into million pieces.

The fourth is Lee Juyeon, a boy you had never seen before until his cat got pregnant by yours. Scuba Steve ( long story ) had been gone for some days until another family came up to their door with him. For half a year, it felt like you saw Lee Juyeon everyday. He was just as enchanted by kittens as you ( if not more ) and you two would visit each other just to cuddle with them. The teenage heart used to rush with the mere presence of him and together you named all the kittens–until they were sold off. Then they eventually stopped seeing each other. Though he still lurks around as a poet’s ghost around campus ( source Eric ). 

The last one, Ji Changmin, the son of your mother’s friend. He teached you calculus for a while in high school. To be fully transparent, you didn’t learn much from him that year because all you did was leaning on the kitchen table while adoring him until the rims of his glasses slipped. He always scolded you endearingly when you didn’t listen ( which was the majority of the time ). Ji Changmin always wore cute polos with neat pants–now when thinking about it, mother might have approved if you got together. But it’s too late. He went to uni; and simply left you with a newfound thing for glasses ( still wearing cute polos in uni ). 

And that’s all. You sometimes wonder if it was a mere symptom of youth that resulted in those letters. Since uni–outside a campus crush or two-–that compelling yearning for someone has never come back. 

Eventually the bird’s cease to sing once the sun swallows entirely by the horizon, and cicadas can be heard through the open windows. You leave the letters as the two of you close the door. Mother asked if you and your cousin wanted to go with the rest of the adults down to the green field at the center of the neighborhood, you said yes. 

When the heavy door shuts against the frame, voices from your younger brother’s room at the highest floor seeps through the windows.

( next morning ) 

“Mom, you haven’t seen some letters?” You stand at the stairs to look down the kitchen counter where mother and your brother turn from the pantry light. 

“Three’s blue and two pink envelopes?” You ask again. 

Mom shakes her head, “No, I haven’t?” 

You sigh, sprint up the second floor. 

“Y/n?” 

Call of your name echoes through the frame into your room. To look over the bed and see your younger brother centered at the white rectangle. His fringe like curtains reluctant to open as he looks elsewhere. You come up completely. 

“What?” 

“The letters…” 

Your ears perk up, “You’ve seen them?” 

“No, I took them…” He says guilty and starts tearing off paint from the wall. 

“The guys wanted to prank you yesterday, we sent them, I’m really sorry.” 

He looks up again, “But I told them to not do anything more.” He reassures, but his voice trails off as you neither alienate or sigh at this confession. Eyes, lifeless as the posture in your arms hanging off your stale corpse. 

“You did what?” You ask; wishing you heard incorrectly the first time and he crashed a vase instead. 

“We sent your letters..” He says hesitantly with eyebrows knit. 

You close your eyes. Take your hands up your face to cup it and breathe in. Autumn semester starts in exactly 13 days and you know at least half of the letter receivers attend. And definitely all five live in the city. 

To breathe out, hands fall in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow at what one could guess is a meditation session before you open your eyes. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” 

02 . CHAPTER TWO

( tuesday afternoon ) 

The letters were out; an existential dread running on two bags of pure sugar surged within you. A sensation you were oblivious to existed. First week went, and you hoped the mail man had fallen over and left the letters on the highway, doomed to get run over til their unreadable. But those wishes perished the very moment Eric Sohn came chanting underneath the window. The characteristic bird chimes and mowers intertwined in green leaf rustle; his voice echoed through open glass. You told mom not to tell him you were here; that you had already taken the train to the city. 

Destiny was in your favor for once, and your mother did lie when Eric came to the front door. 

So far, none crossed fate with the receivers of your letters has ensued. Eric was the only established friend in your life, hence you held yourself far, far away from any business major hot spots. Though, just after achieving three days. The first afternoon at the start of your part time; rulers leave you forced to stare eye to eye with receiver number one.

“This is Y/n, she will work as your athletic trainer assistant for this semester.” The trainer lifts hands to his side to make it even clearer than it already was. It is damn cold beside the ice rink–which you thank god for since your face would be blistered red otherwise. As he presents for all tall men in thick layers of hockey protection, they stare; you’re left to make a timid jazz hand motion with a strained smile. 

“I’m Y/n.” Hands fall back to your side and concentrate all might to look at the other eight people–not the one to the right. 

“She will be helping me with equipment and aid; so you’ll see her around a bit.” 

The players wave past you in turn; to introduce themselves in a mere identical manner. The last name pains deeply as you pretend to find shoelaces loose. 

“Jaehyun.” 

You can’t see his expression, not even when eyes come up. Only his back covered in blue jersey greets you as he steps off the plastic flooring and onto the ice. 

Though, it is an immediate opportunity for breathing room when all players go to practice. The plastic walls become solid and you look over the formations on ice. Maybe you got yourself free from this one? Maybe Hyunjae also thought it was so damn awkward that it’s easier to ignore it. You hope deeply while taking off one glove, as sultry temperatures rise beside the rink. 

Followed by the 30 minutes of relocating equipment around the center, the next time you come back into the ice hall, the trainer greets you with sweat outlining his sideburns. You knit your eyebrows before taking eyes off him and onto the player in navy; halting out the rink. Turns out Coach yelled two different instructions, followed after one another; which resulted in a collision of two players. 

He tells you to take him, who limps to the clothing rooms. By immediate compliance you approach his silhouette; leaning on the plastic divide. You can’t make out the exact expression as he faces the ground, but when you ask him if he needs help walking. That horribly handsome face from your childhood looks up. Breathing heavily, but smiles through the fringe. 

“Yeah.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line. To force sight away from him. You look at the entrance to the ice hall while taking his arm over your shoulders. Come to the clothing room after taking off his ice skates. The two intentions of your own conscience fought while walking. Nothing would be more awkward than looking at him again, on the other hand, the concern over his weak state is true as the continuous breath sounds loudly beside your ear. 

Hyunjae’s now on the bench before one side of the lockers. He watches attentively as you round the sport’s bags to take the first aid kit on the other side. The ventilation is the loudest thing in the room. At some point it becomes bothersome as you hold his clothing. You haven't made eye contact since the rink, but senses his gaze fixed over your scalp.  

He talks suddenly.

“You know Y/n, I got your letter.” He says while looking down at your hand; securing the bandage around his ankle. 

Fuck. 

Fingers stale from suspension for a moment on the bandage edges. The material loses around his ankle and you force it towards you. 

A sigh, still looking down, “Listen; it was my br–” 

“It’s appreciated Angel, but it will never happen.” His lips curve higher at one opposite edge, leaving his eyes on you with pleasure like he knows something wrong. 

You let go off his legs; weight from your hands fully on your knees as you observe–rolling your eyes. 

“I know, okay.” You breathe in, “What I was about to say was; my little brother sent it, it was not meant to be seen by you.” Another sigh before you force yourself up from the floor; coming in greater height than Hyunjae. 

“Also; I wrote it when I was like 11.” To turn to the first aid kit, “So don’t get your ego too high, Ice God.” 

“Sure, if that’s what you say, Angel.” Hyunjae takes his palms on the bench surface; leaning against the locker. Arch of his lips might rewrite your life when he proceeds to stare.  

“Why do you even call me that?” You return to the opposite side and cross arms; to perceive him roughly as if to build similar strain in him. But it leaves to no avail. 

“Why?” He quotes, “You’re sitting here healing us, our team’s little angel.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You look away as to not blossom of rose pigment–instead start organizing the materials in the aid kit. 

“Either way, Jaehyun. You can go now, it’s done.” 

No length of his voice waves via the dead locker ocean. After eyes set on the sections of the green bag; you glance at his bench. And to make you uncertain, his white bandage leg is still in frame. After you pull the zipper and leave the kit in your lap; you stare at Hyunjae who, with the usual smile, stares back. 

“I said you can go…” Quietly and tilt your head towards the door. 

“I know.” Hyunjae voices in the same tone as before. 

You side eyes him still and sits up. 

“I have a deal. Would you like to hear it?” He says suddenly, causing a rupture across the room and stacked tension weighing on your shoulders.

“Okay…” There’s an uncertain principle, written like a formula over your expression, layered in your voice. 

“You go with me as my girlfriend for Jeno’s party this Friday.” He says monotone. 

The first aid kit frees from your hands. Eyes drifting between two points and you’re left looking eyebrow knit at him two meters away. Then, forced to turn when he smiles contempt. You swiftly bend down to take the aid kit before returning gaze. Hyunjae sees in center of two bags hanging; your lips sunder to shove down the offer. Right through the concrete to the core mit. 

“--Or else I’m putting up your letter for the whole campus to see.” 

You immediately shut sealed and eyelids folds half over the curvature. He smiles so hard it borders on comical. And with his arms crossed over his jersey, you only wait for them to fall and see him burst out laughing; tell you he got you. But the silence prevails your thoughts and you start to believe he’s actually serious. 

“I don't believe you.” You look tired at him. 

“No, I’m serious.” Hyunjae still nonchalantly crossed armed and slack raised shoulders. 

As another passage of ventilation comes through, beckon time like the minute visor. You finally sigh and sit down at the bench again. 

“Why even me? Can’t you just ask someone else?” Frustration over the seemingly complex idea for a deal when he could make it ten times easier for himself.

His expression falters for a second after the question. Hyunjae holds his lips sealed; unaltered high posture cause he hesitates to give away his shortcomings. But on the other hand, just a little empathy might do it. 

“I’m actually in a bad position, Angel.” He leans forward, voice quieter.

“Everyone knows I’ve got a girlfriend, but she broke up with me before the semester. They want to finally see her, but I got none” He pauses and leans his chin on his hand and pouts a little, “--just you.”

The withered corners of your face perks slowly up as he ends his sentence. Hyunjae smiles harder, believing he a white winged victory, but it disappears the very second you laugh in his face. Your back comes against the support of the bench while eyelids close to the bottom of laughter.

“She dumped you?” Hands gather in your knees. 

“Too bad, too bad.” 

It’s Hyunjae’s turn giving stale eyes. Though, just as fast; he gathers himself back and leans onto the lockers again. 

“Yeah, is it a deal or not, Angel?” 

You breathe in and look at him still. Hyunjae is more foolish than his appearance gave off, you don't have faith in first impressions. He might as well scan your lost letter and create a chain mail across campus. Partying wasn’t on your list for the first weekend of the semester, but maybe you could get away with lurking against the wallpaper?

You swing your left foot and finally look back at him, “Okay, deal then.” 

Hyunjae smirks. 

“Just this, then we're equal. No grudge, no obligations.” 

“Sure.” He nods. 

You tilt your chin down, “...I don’t trust you, Jaehyun.” 

He lets his hands up, “Look, I’m keeping my promise. I told you my dirt too.” 

“Like not having a girlfriend is as embarrassing as a love letter written in 2002.” 

( friday evening ) 

“Okay, should we go in then?” You take a step forward but get pulled by the shirt. Shoulders come up against him and the arm sleeve of his clothing folds against your nape.

From your first encounter until Friday; you were forced to persevere through charming–bordering on foolish–remarks. The weekend prophesied as projection on the glass entrance that Friday. And it shattered the very moment Hyunjae’s voice echoed from the changing rooms. That he’ll wait for you outside the women’s dormitory. With not a twitch in own expression, he disappeared behind the frame with a wink. 

One of your two roommates was also invited to the house party. The thought of having someone else other than ice god settled some relief. But as you stood waiting in the summer heat of night; the first bus went and fifteen minutes later, you saw a familiar silhouette to the left of the stairs you sat on. 

He didn’t say anything when you refused to sit up and just glared tired at him. 

“What’s with the face, Angel?” He had asked laughing lightly, “We’ll miss the bus.”, you are forced to stand. 

“You’re late, Ice God.” You muttered and started walking towards the bus stop. Hyunjae ran up beside.  

Both talked while the streetlights behind the glass window became all the more distant. Though, it didn’t become hopelessly quiet, as it was a loud friend group behind. You cursed your half sleeve arms when Hyunjae didn’t know the way to Jeno's house from the bus stop. Forced to traverse between bushes when he pointed at mindless directions. Swore that he knew the “shortcut”. And ants might as well have climbed up your toes and into your underwear. 

Now, as either stands before the three stairs and the entrance door in the midst of the front yard. You're pulled against his chest (still covered in leaves). 

“Not so fast.” 

Though he’s out of peripheral vision; the self satisfied tone at every articulate visualizes his smile. His hands like a thin veil across your shoulders–you take a step back from them, to face him fully. 

“Okay then? What’s the plan, Ice God?” You cross arms to build some fence–to match his pride. But either only shares an instant of eye contact before you press your lips and look towards the sad flowers hidden in the corner. 

Hyunjae has always enjoyed teasing people. Of course, a bit apprehensive to strangers, but nonetheless; he waits no time to poke at the first friend closest in sight. He himself has probably no thought about it, but he has a thrill for watching people’s reactions. You were no different. Like the sun; secret behind the trees, it’s always so obvious. You were flustered by his turns of nicknames and comments; so much that you feel to defend your blemished garden. There’s something endearingly professional about you, he thinks. 

“You have a lip balm or something?” He cocks an eyebrow. 

You look at your belongings; eyes looking as narrow threads when apprehensive. To wait for his signature laughter but instead nods his head. You roam around the bag; hands helping to widen your vision, but not enough to notice his fingers below the tender sprout against your head. You look up to see him with one of your two hair clips. Curious what he’ll do; you try no fence when he sets it on his fringe. 

“Now I’m yours.” He smiles. 

Hyunjae comes down to you slightly before returning; taking his eyes off and onto the entrance before brushing past your shoulder. Because of the evening shades, the red pigments on your cheeks withers out with skin as you look behind your shoulder to see Hyunjae’s figure let the deafening conversations from inside, out. He doesn’t look back towards you, and you knit eyebrows before taking double steps up the stairs and into the house. 

With one step you push yourself off the wallpaper; feel shoulders brushing up against your own as the living room opens. 

Hyunjae held your hand for the first half an hour. He then let go when something happened between the friends (you didn’t know). But even then you tailed after like some home cat. Though, as anxiety arose after seeing a group of Eric’s friends in the same room, you cautiously backed into the corner. Some stranger did the rest for you when they collided with the table and Jeno’s grandma fell lid first and shattered on the floor. It became a bit quiet when poor grandma(s ashes) laid there, all spread out. 

After Jeno panicked and some helped clean up; the chamber of incomprehensible conversations started again. 

There’s cliques scattered between the couches. You reach on high toes to see past all the height and hair to locate the frame you came in from. Soon you fall back to your heels, just as the chorus waves through the walls. The crowd suddenly opens up before you when two people walk away. You’re left still and see the open door to the hallway. Shoulders come down in height just as you breathe out. Relieved to take a step to finally leave; but your feet barely touch the wood until eyes widens and air asphyxiates in your throat. 

At the end of the high walls; Eric stands half a meter from the door frame. A lamp shines from behind him, lightning up his half body. Like the sun; he becomes the very essence of the narrow square. 

You turn in a desperate attempt for survival. This season heat and packed building; it all bends backwards through the grass field in all four directions. 

Immediately you see diagonally behind, a staircase up to the second floor. You don't even look back to Eric before colliding with someone's back and sprint up. There’s no lighting up the wooden stairs, just Earth’s wailing moon through the pier glass. 

All those voices–through speakers or chords–wanes like the full to crescent moon month. 

There’s closed doors around. It burns pace from behind and you take the handle of the door left to the stairs. Without letting it open even half way; you slip past the glimpse and lock it shut.

You lean close to the door; feel the cold wood on your left cheek. The party’s over on this side. Like the melancholic memory of falling asleep to the adults in the other room. 

When you expect nothing; a clear voice from behind reiterates peculiar sentences. 

Not strong enough to take your chin off the door; you look past your shoulder to see someone in the bathtub with a damned annotated book. 

It takes about three seconds from first contact until the bathtub guy flinches, “Ah!?” 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes widen while your shoulders contract as wings. 

It echoes between the tiles when his book lands on the bathtub floor. To face the sudden him, distressed; your hands come up in height with your wing like bone. 

“Sorry.” You deadpan. 

“No, it’s okay.” He answers, soft spoken. Eye contact stays fleeting as his fringe–like curtains–falls before the mirage window when he reaches for the book. He mends the awry strands into place; scour the wordy dimensions to where he left off. 

You recall his soft silken halo. Hands come down to its sides and you lean off the door. Like a main character from an academic tale; he looks deeply dreamlike–always somewhere else. The guy feels your presence still as above the title cover; his eyes peeks. 

At this point, you look at him with wide eyes horror; ready for him to either aristocratically roast your fourteen old writing, or condense into second hand embarrassment and hide under the bathtub. 

Lee Juyeon sits in the damn bathtub of a house party. 

As you’re deep in fourth dimensional torment; Juyeon speaks first. 

“Oh, Y/n.” 

He smiles, still holds the book before him. 

You refuse to move, “Hi…Juyeon.” 

“That was a long time.” He switches between your eyes and the next sentence. 

The tension in your frame aids in turn for every second. Juyeon doesn’t mention any letters, but still, you eye him suspiciously. 

“Yeah.” You agree awkwardly. 

“Why are you here?” You ask. 

Juyeon pauses in sentence once again to shift his fringe and look up. You had nearly forgotten the patterns of silence and speaking he so often followed. Back when they always met; they spent so many seconds simply waiting for him to talk. 

“I would ask you the same thing.” He sort of tilts his head attentively. 

With your lips pursed instead of answering, you look to the mirror above the sink. Water in delicate droplets dive in while he turns the next page. 

“Escaping things?” He asks, still reading.  

You nod. 

“We all do.” 

You see him through the mirror reflection. His eyes bent like a faint wave from shore; reassures her lone presence. 

As he closes off himself again; you figure he doesn’t mind their shared space. There’s no sign of knowledge about your letter. Juyeon always reeked of innocence, so maybe you’re wishing. 

But Eric’s still one floor below (taking the safe option). 

You take a seat on the bathtub edge. Shoulder faces Juyeon who leans his back on the discolord cream white tiles. . 

“Should I read something for you?” He asks soothingly. 

You hesitate before letting your hands comfortably down the edge, “Okay.” 

“You want some?” He reaches out the green glass bottle. 

Your shoulders scoff when your mind affirms, “Thank you.” 

Juyeon asks suddenly, “How’s Scuba Steve?” 

Truly the only thing left that protects from not spitting out the alcohol is embarrassment. You do an expression tainted by drinks or unease, and let the bottle down your lap. 

To wonder how in the passage of all years; Juyeon recalls your insignificant house cat that mated with his own (or maybe it’s not that weird when you think after). 

There’s a sort of foolish–bordering on stupid–touch in your chest that he actually never forgot Scuba Steve. One could guess we live on, assuming we’re the only one that remembers. 

“Oh, he’s dead.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” 

The room reaches–what resembles closest to silence– in a house party. Both their lips are pressed in thin lines as they view the tiles above each other again. 

“You then?” Silence starts to torture you briefly in your fingers.

“How’s…” Your face contracts in parallel to the ceiling when scattered bleached cuts from that black little cat sleeping on his floor. 

“Mindy?” He says. 

“Oh, Yeah.” 

They both laugh. 

“She’s still alive.” He lets the book down for the first time (excluding the jumpscare), “She’s with mom and dad. Though she's getting very old now, she eats less and doesn’t even go out anymore.” 

As they sat there talking about cats and poetry; eventually the boundary past the toilet door ceases. You didn’t leave that end of the bathtub (aside from running down the kitchen with Juyeon for more alcohol). 

Now they lie on opposite builds against the cold edge. It’s been sometime since you drank, specifically this much. You can’t talk for Juyeon, but he seems pretty damn wasted too. Your eyes dares to fall while Juyeon’s shirt climbs up his chin as he comes deeper down the tub. 

“I can’t wake up here.” You mumble. Either to yourself or decked out Juyeon; you don't know. He answers something incomprehensible back as a bottle in the scattered line before the bathtub falls. While you grasp for the handle, you turn barely to Juyeon who has his eyes half open. 

“Bye, Juyeon, it was epic.” You wave your free hand, “Tell Mindy I said Hi.” 

“I’ll do.” He tiredly answers back. 

The alcohol withers boundaries within your body. Turns it weak for the downstairs crowd, like poison inducing nausea. In line with poison; You walk as if zombie apocalypse smitten down the stairs without holding onto the railing. Somehow reaches the ground floor and passes through the living room. 

Whatever mechanisms your mind built to defend its dignity from Eric; it took the place of the alcohol in its glass bottles. You’re in the hallway, three meters from the entrance. It’s overheating–worse than a sauna–in the house. Mere presence of tepid air has your hands trailing along the walls. 

A warmth presence dividing the you and outside blocks. In a desperate drunk attempt you push against it and complain. 

“Out the way, you’re fucking hot.” 

“I am?” 

It speaks back, in a tone rather mischievous than what your state calls for. With a shift of the inner lightning; you realize you have your hands on a uni jacket. The logo turns and you would accuse him of motion sickness. 

From your face-low angle, his hands are tied between the blue pockets. You lean harder on the wall to force your chin where his head is tilted with a smile to the same degree. 

“You’re still here.” You still complain and his face drops. Eyes fleet between your face, the opposite wall, and the entrance door to return. 

“That wasn’t a compliment, right?” His fingers directed to his chest. 

“No, Einstein.” Eyebrows knit when realizing you’ve drifted off the main mission. Two shoulders on opposite ends collide as you hastily drag along to the frame. 

“Woah, woah.” The male student takes your wrist lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I think it’s a great idea.” You defend without knowing. 

“You’re gonna fall down the stairs.” 

His voice is strangely worried which you would have been touched by, if it wasn’t for the drunk state. 

Mid temperatures of night may have transpired any senses as you don't answer. He takes this to come up in line with you; one decimeter away from the first stairs. 

There’s two people, solitude in a hammock to the right, and prey like shadows of two around the grass. Music from inside is still too loud, and it probably hides someone puking at the other end. 

“I’ll help you, okay? I’m not a weirdo.” 

You turn your head to side eye him. Either promise respect or sacrificially bow down, he throws his hand up. To then gently lie it on your shoulder, lead you down. 

“That’s what a weirdo would say.” You mumble without working against him. 

Gravel scratches underneath their feet and the male student takes his hand off your shoulder; though still twined by the wrist. 

He starts, “I need your name, I should call–” 

“Sunwoo!” 

It seizes pulsations from inside, and the male student takes his head from you. Features on his face and the blue jacket is immediately recognised by the one below. The student's eyes are wide and Sunwoo’s eyebrows hold a neutral position above. 

“Jaehyu–”

“She’s my girlfriend!” Hyunjae takes your wrist from him. 

“Why are you still standing here?” He agitates before wandering off the gates with you. 

Sunwoo shoves his hands up in height with his chest once again; not risking to start fighting with the reigning hockey player while he’s half drunk, half angry.

“I don’t think I’m allowed in here.” Sounds tense. 

“It’s not like you’re here to hook up.” 

“They don’t know that.” Hyunjae deadpans. 

After both left Sunwoo at the stone stairs, Hyunjae coursed through the shrubbery once again. You seemed confused over the interaction; he doesn’t think you even realized the hand on your own changed. He thought you would sober up during the train ride, but you still took irregular stepping patterns down the warm lighted gravel path. 

While down the glass entrance to the soaring female dormitory; Hyunjae motioned you to walk in. But as fast he let go of your shoulder, you stumbled three steps back. 

“What should we do then?” Hyunjae asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know, it was your idea to go the party.” You cross arms. 

“And yours to get so drunk that you can’t stand.” He spits back. 

The night pulls them close when they wait lonely, as if exiled. Summer cicadas swallow their venom words and when one street lamp flickers; Hyunjae sighs and takes a seat down the stairs. You follow. 

Once the peaceful moon renders all its light, leaving it to its bones; your head falls to his shoulder. While you carve shapes in its craters, your arms mindlessly pull him close. The strands of your hair accumulate on his neck, and while filed under the same sky, your breath sounds like a soundtrack to him. 

Like the passage from day to night; he notices his heart like it’s vastly alive. How many eyes have looked at him adoringly, but he can’t even anxiously look down your side. It’s familiar yet strange, he refuses to acknowledge it. And still you are oblivious, can’t even see his blushing face. 

“Shouldn’t you go home?” You ask softly. Tired and slow in contrast to the previous sentence. 

“I can’t leave you here.” He finally looks down at you. 

“Then you're going to be tired tomorrow.” Guilt visually lines your sunken silhouette. 

Hyunjae smiles, “You’re gonna be too.” 

He speaks gently again after silence, “Sober up a bit more and you’ll walk up.” 

03 . CHAPTER THREE

( saturday midday )

Not because you thought you were immortal anyway, but the next morning came crashing through the roof. While grieving your roof (it wasn’t broken), you swore the ceiling fan was up to mock you in its circles. All while last night lingers as a supercut. 

Your two roommates had woken up earlier, they were supposed to go out. Where? You can’t remember; at that point you were still trying to figure out who you bickered with outside Jeno’s stairs. 

Either way, the bottom line is; you didn’t throw off your clothes, and no texts from Eric. 

The campus is idyllically still in late summer. Bird whistle intertwines with the wind who walks like you through the grass, under the same gravel path Hyunjae led you yesterday. Sun drenched tree crowns and your eyes yearn through the gaps. 

There’s a yellow haze over the world and when you take another step; charge in gravel comes from behind. How your legs sway towards the grass border, fleeting levels with your eyes over your shoulder. A bicycle comes half a meter before; stops it with his right foot.

“Oh–Hi, Y/n.” 

“Oh, Juyeon?” 

He jumps off the saddle and they fall in same line. 

“You look a bit tired?” Juyeon asks in a voice, perfect sync with the bird song. Once again the world falls so dream-like behind him. 

“Yeah, yesterday was…stressful.” You take a palm up to your forehead. 

Juyeon’s smile falters, anxiously tilts his head, “Did I do something last night?” 

“No,no–something else happened…not you.” Hand between the open space which you wave reassuringly. His eyes become concerned and yours only redder. Hyunjae’s touch still lingers on that half of your body; you’re afraid Juyeon can see it. 

You ask something else instead, “You then? You’re not tired?”

He laughs softly, “A bit.” “But I’m supposed to meet a family friend.”

You nod. 

Leaving the last tree behind; the blue sky opens up, just in time for his revelation. Juyeon turns to you fully. Merely one can make out the contour of a light bulb above his head. 

“She bought two of our kittens; Lemon and…” He knits his eyebrows, unable to see your eyes, brilliant with curiosity. 

“I forgot.” He laughs, “They’re big now, I see them sometimes.” 

“Really?” 

Juyeon hums, “Do you want to see them?” 

“Of course!..if it’s okay for your friend?”

“She’s a lady my mother knows.” Juyeon takes one leg over the bicycle saddle and tilts his head–so that his hair too–points to the rack. 

“Jump on.” 

To exchange his eyes with the bicycle rack; you purse your lips and walk behind. Hands immediately cling to the metal frame, but as Juyeon weighs forward, you hold onto his shirt. 

Juyeon looks back and smiles as you struggle, “Hold my waist or you’ll fall off.” 

At this moment, you’re so deeply relieved he hasn’t read your letter. It eases the touch in your hands as they come to his front. Shirt folded above your clasped hands lies like a veil.

That feeling, of when a perfect alignment of past and memory presents. It washes over one as soften, melancholic, whiplash. You hadn’t thought about his scent in years, but as they chase the sun yet never pass it, his shirt touches your cheek. In his home where they used to sit on knees beside each other. It flutters your heart tenderly. 

At the high end peak you felt burdensome. Juyeon reassured you while weighing onto the pedals standing. He seemed to quietly persist in breathing through his nose, even when he was audible panting. 

He led the bicycle to the front, beneath the shadowed roof; you cast your eyes over the asphalt end. The wind rushes through nature up here. As such the foreground, alive, before the still concrete and bricks. 

Juyeon called your name to where he waited beside the door. With a half a shoulder hidden by his own, the bell goes off. A lady opens and smiles instantly as she sees Juyeon. Her wrist in rose patterns reaches out for his shoulder, comforts it gently. Since you’re a stranger; you’re left to awkwardly observe and retell like a narrator. 

“Oh, you have a girl with you?” She smiles at Juyeon, which he returns. He introduces you to the lady while she weakly widens the door gap. 

She still talks when three cats come to the hallway rug. Curiously they silently circle your legs, but they too can tell you’re no threat. 

An orange cat, clothed in layers of orange fur, brushes its head against your calf. You immediately bend down to pet it. To figure out if this fox-like complexion existed in your past too; you tilt your head. But your cat’s were more like crows than foxes. 

Apparently something must have shown because Juyeon says from beside. 

“This is Belle, they had their own kittens here. Ours are probably resting on the couch.” 

You look up, “Oh.” 

The old lady goes to the kitchen to take out tea and biscuits. Meanwhile Juyeon guides you to the living room where three other cats lie in the cushions of a worn down brown couch. Their socks tenderly span across the clear floor, and it must have woken them up. You smile briefly when they instantly seem to recognize him; reach their heads up for touch once he sits. All weights deeper down the material once you sit beside him. Touching shoulders to see a cat lick his finger in his lap. 

Like a jet black scarf in his jeans pattern; it contrasts from the faint white mark–like a moon at night–on her head. 

“She’s so big now.” You say when visions from those evenings before the TV playing Sailor Moon. You called out her name–Luna–that day when you saw her cramped between her siblings. 

Juyeon also named a kitten after a TV show he watched..

“Is that Mum Mew?” 

Now in direction towards the floor; a larger cat, half underneath the couch, half on your feet. 

Juyeon laughs, “He’s Oscar now.” He leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever told her that was his original name.” 

They sit there until the lady comes out again. 

“It’s so lovely that you got a girlfriend, Juyeon.” She puts down the plate and the two look at her, “I’ve all actually thought about you a lot. I’ve been thinking about calling your mother to set you up with someone, I started to get a bit worried.”

The lady has an attentive x on her face. The skin on her forehead hides nothing as it folds, deeply contemplated. Only with your head down and suppressed smile, can you clearly notice the plates against wooden surfaces. Juyeon scratches his nape frantically while laughing. 

"Yeah, uhh–” He stammer. 

“You know, by your age, I was with many guys.” She sits down on the opposite chair. 

“We got together, then we broke up. I had a guy in Paris who I really liked.” She leans forward, “Back then I was so in love I wanted to stay. I thought he was perfect! Kind, handsome, sex–”

“What’s the type of cookie?” Juyeon suddenly bursts out. Leaned over the table pointing at the brown one that’s obviously chocolate. But the lady doesn’t seem to bother. 

“Oh, you see!” 

You press your lips, the color might have vanished. Though it was painfully awkward; Juyeon was just adorable enough to turn the situation endearing. She still describes in detail over her mother’s mother recipe; and Juyeon from the side nods his head attentively, like he always does. 

After another conversation, the topic returns. 

“So when did you meet?” 

Turns to exchange question marks between you. His eyes don't say much and you guess yours neither. 

Juyeon scratches his nape, “We’ve been friends for sometime.” 

Lady nods, “Since when?” 

“Like…” He looks at you for confirmation, “...fourteen or fifteen?” 

“Did you confess, Juyeon? Or Y/n?” She smiles and looks at you, “Juyeon is a bit shy, I’ll be surprised if he confessed.” 

He retreats back to the couch; sinks down the heavy material. You laugh lightly at how his shoulders, swallows by waves of brown textile. 

“Y/n actually liked me first back then.” He points out gently.

You freeze. 

“Then I confessed in university.” 

The old woman does a sweet smile; hands patterned of life lie like a cover over her heart as she looks at both. 

For the longer you’re in someone’s presence; one starts to adjust to the traits. But even how many conversations went on and the sun above crossed her roof; your shoulders hardened. Like irreversible death does to your physical state, you seem unable to look to Juyeon’s side. By all stars in the universe; you’re suddenly transparent. Obvious, translucent piercing glass. 

You looked out the window at the old woman’s house; terrifyingly, the sky was pink. All the world disappeared at fatal speed when they bicycled back to campus. There must be a sort of brilliant snow, in a color out of our spectrum, that rains down on Earth in summer evening. It leaves the landscape quiet and calm. Cicadas sing when everyone else ceases to. 

None of you felt like going to the dorms just yet, instead; you now sit in the auditorium. Though either laugh echoes throughout the wide open space, there’s a dissolving acid in your lungs, begging to drink all air. 

All those characteristics of a person reveal to the open world after all these years. Because you can’t remember Juyeon being so persistent in apologizing. They came in on the “girlfriend” incident; he smiled embarrassingly, felt guilty for forcing you in on it. You told him it was okay. 

After echoing silence; it soars through the auditorium. Juyeon reaches down his backpack with all its scattered papers. There’s a velvety pulse keeping the space next to you occupied while he’s elsewhere. Once Juyeon comes out of the canvas material; your eyes widen in terror, contrasting the melodic decoration of red velvet and wood. 

Your conscious runs desperately from this room, but physical state is in the same seat. 

Juyeon holds out a blue letter with your handwriting on it. 

“I should’ve said it sooner, I’m sorry.” He says in that gentle tone he always speaks to you with. Maybe a soft arch at the end of the sentence. Nonetheless, you imaginary stabs the mind resting in your bone cradle. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You look at him once before turning to the empty seat and make an expression. One of deep second hand embarrassment that comes from the very narrow part of ‘me’ and sends like shivers. 

“I understand.” Juyeon follows your movements, “You were not supposed to see that letter, they shouldn’t have been leaked.” 

Worried you might have genuinely caused borderline trauma for the poor guy; you turn to him, “I’m really sorry.” 

“No.” The corners of his lips turn into leaves of a red apple. His eyes clouds the color round the pupil and his height convulses barely as he leans into the seat. 

Parts of us never veins, and in front of you, he’s the same boy who patted kittens and was deeply sad when they parted from their mother.  

“I’m honestly very touched by it.” He admits. 

He was back in his childhood home for the last week before semester. When folding the navy sheets of his old bed; his mother came up. A letter in her hand with turquoise color and bubble arch letters in pink ink. Already, it couldn’t be something written in ‘today’. 

And Juyeon is truthful towards you. He read it on the train back home. Always oblivious but grateful nonetheless. Used the window like a passage to the time where you sat beside him on the bedroom floor. 

“Really?” You say surprised. 

He nods, “I’ve never gotten a love letter before.” 

You would scoff and tell him he’s lying, but as his appreciative eyes blur with the blue envelope; you don’t. 

“You know, I think you should join the writer’s club here on campus.” Juyeon smiles at you suddenly. 

“What?” You lean away. 

“Really.” His eyes shapes of honest o’s, “Like–of course there’s some grammar mistakes and you spelt ‘desperatly’ wrong, but you got the feeling!” 

Still the same skeptical expression answers him back. 

“I’m really serious Y/n.”

Own hands in your lap trail towards each other like opposite poles, “I’ll think about it.” 

You watch how he timidly holds the edges and opens the envelope again. Lips shaped in pout like he wonders. 

“Does it bother you if I keep it?” He asks. 

Head shake, though still confused, “No, you can keep it.” 

“Thank you.” He smiles endearingly and tucks it back between the papers and folders. 

A revelation wasn’t as horrid as you thought. Hyunjae’s was deeply embarrassing, but there’s a brief space for contemptment in your heart where anxiety wandered before. Like a visual sight of the butterfly; you look up at the auditorium and ponder over the hidden connections.

You didn’t expect anything from Juyeon; that time has passed. But his now grown up presence seems to fulfill this daily life too. 

“Did others get letters?” Juyeon breaks silence. Like always, his expression paints past the physical boundaries, and one could make out white lines of curious cat ears. 

You figure he means the “they shouldn’t have been leaked”. 

You nod and he tilts his head. Visual intrigue and anticipation from his seat, but you close off in rose pigment like tired flowers. 

“I'd rather not tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You laugh and Juyeon leans back, reassuring. 

This anticipating silence doesn’t cease. It exists as a continuation, a ‘more’ before the ‘end’. One person can’t seem to leave the edge undiscovered, rather, you wait for the red thread to tie its last loop. 

“You know Eric has been looking for you? He seems to miss you a lot.” Juyeon finally says. Tone serious than anything else that left his lips. 

A stone grows between your throat, not acid. There’s no dissolving, just constant aching as you try to move. 

Juyeon continues to talk as you’re silent, “I don’t know what it is, but he’s very understanding…”

He pauses, “...and you know, cause you know him better than I do.” 

04 . CHAPTER FOUR

( tuesday, morning )

“Where’s the psychiatrist?” 

“At the library.” 

“No, I can’t talk to Juyeon anymore.” He groans. 

To drift from the flat roofs outside the window; Eric looks at Sunwoo, further the beige walls. Sunwoo’s head is deep tucked beneath the bedding; Eric crawls over from his own bed to the end of Sunwoo’s. When the weight leans towards Sunwoo’s feet, he closes the pink envelope and lets the navy sheets hide it. The cover comes off Sunwoo’s head by Eric. His face like the moon causes an eclipse over the sun and Sunwoo stares unenchanted back at it. 

“Y/n still haven't answered my messages, it’s been like three weeks!” Eric forces the pillow down. 

“I wouldn’t answer you either.” Sunwoo pats bedding over his chest while Eric throws the pillow at his side. 

They just became friends at the end of the last semester and decided to room for this year. As one’s social circles opens up in double doors whenever Eric comes; your name was one of the first he heard. Sunwoo immediately leaned intrigued at the name, but figured it was just a mere coincidence. He was bound to grow from youth and twine old names with new faces. 

Either way, destiny doesn’t exist, and he won’t take a bait from the universe. Though, Sunwoo threaded over that principle the week before uni started. He worked at the old summer camp and a letter came during the closing week. 

“To Sunwoo”, nothing else. Curiosity took the best of him and he opened the letter to see “From Y/n'' at the end of a massive paragraph. 

The universe got him this time, he admits. In how many positions has he reread the letter and dreamt of the yellow filtered summer from when he was thirteen. In truth he reminiscenced about you those summer’s after. Once reaching adulthood, he realized there was no point in yearning, it’s been years. But this late season has turned into the car ride home from that camp, still with you in vision, so close but not here.

At this point ‘Y/n’ feels like a mere fragment of his imagination; therefore he wont tell. Keep your name from any seekers and contemplate. 

After laughter; Eric plummets to the bed and looks up at the ceiling, feeling Sunwoo’s legs at his elbow. 

“I just don’t understand why she can’t talk to me.” He murmurs. 

“Did anything happen?” 

Only Juyeon knows about the letter Eric received from his best friend. A confession he has longed for since he lived in his castle (big house), but never would be granted. 

Eric thought their connection was stronger than this. Why did you send it if you weren't seeking answers? Why now, this place at this time? 

He has traced every curve of your letters; stared at facebook and mail box. Even the refrigerator at night for answers. 

Though everything the roommates did this summer; Eric can’t tell him, not yet. It’s the luminous memories coming to his ruins. Sunwoo is his presence. 

Silent melancholia climbs above the horizon together with the bleeding sun at the football field. Lines of the goals, rigid and angular, separate the pink-orange growing fragments. Breeze from east colds your heated heart while waiting on the bleachers for Hyunjae. 

You were forced to wake up; not following the united routine of the dormitory when he needed help for a training pass at dawn. But he’s not in sight. 

Half asleep leaning on the backpack, center of your lap; waiting for something holy to run past. 

World’s colors fade into abstraction behind the pupil and a small figure crosses the field. You don’t notice how it leaves the red tracks, closer to the bleachers. Same breeze that touched you passes through its shirt and by mere coincidence. He turns his head opposite from the sunrise and sees you lone illuminated. 

Sunwoo recognises the person despite different clothing. There’s an unconscious underlying characteristic in posture. Sunwoo has been entranced by his own world, but he did think a lot of the pretty girl who fell drunk out of the entrance at Jeno’s party. 

Slowly his feet take him further from the white lines. 

“You’re okay?” His voice tears the plaster away from your vision. 

To look up from the bleacher, a ruler higher than the green grass, they make eye contact. It takes a pattern of blinking but at last you speak. 

“What?” 

“I saw you at the party last Friday, I just wonder if you’re okay?” He repeats. 

A sort of second hand deja vu like nausea, spreads from the visual, coming back. Forces the parallel expression to the feeling, down and instead scratches your head. 

“Oh.” Eyes widen, “Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks.” 

Solitude pushes down into the field with the next breeze. The two of them linger in the same place though the conversation seemed to have ended long ago. You who tie eyes on the far tower of the male dormitory, look back towards him. He stands with barely knit eyebrows, two meters away. It’s not an uncomfortable stare whatsoever, rather curious as the sun rising above the world. 

You smile, “You’re trying to place me…” 

Trying destiny runs through him but nonetheless he’s taken by the sudden realization. You see how the expression unravels and a single shooting star passes the brown coloration of his left eye. 

“You’re Y/n; Y/n from summer camp?” 

You don't react as quickly and are now left blaring into the past and present and the same time. 

“We went kayaking together, don’t you remember?” He points at himself, “I’m Sunwoo.” 

The star falls in east and transcends pink orange shine throughout the campus. For a second; you would have fallen from first row down the grass field with knees bruised of embarrassment, but just in time, you realized that the address written on the letter wasn’t his, just the camp. 

“Sunwoo?” Your posture folds higher to come into view with his own. Truly there’s exciting nostalgia within. 

“I didn’t know you went here.” You say slowly. 

“Me neither.” Sunwoo laughs. 

While in awe over the struck of fate; eyes momentarily drift to the right. Another shadow cuts through the horizon and appears closer while jogging across the field. All light still shines in your eyes while standing up. They come in equal footing and quietly watch each other. He looks over behind and sees Hyunjae. Sunwoo doesn’t quite feel like leaving yet; wished they were stored a moment longer. 

His arms just barely lifts off his sides to embrace you, but the sharp sequence of Hyunjae and you strikes him at the spinal cord. Not wanting to disrupt your relationship again. 

You’re left with wide eyes as Sunwoo runs off the direction he appeared from. 

“Bye Y/n, see you around!” 

It all just played as if at two times speed. One hand lifts to wave from your side of the world while the last strands disappear beyond the goals. 

By peripheral vision, Hyunjae traces Sunwoo. Once more, there’s a torturous sensation growing between marrow bone and heart. When you look his way he feels your eyes held down on him only. 

“You never take water with you, Ice God.” 

While still a meter across, you throw the water bottle to him and he captures it perfectly. Hyunjae looks up with eye-framed windows like staring at the sun. 

“You’re close with Sunwoo?” 

Your bag falls to the ground, “We went to summer camp together, I didn’t know he studied here.” 

Briefly nod while his bag too comes down the grass. You lucid leaning onto the bleachers again–until Hyunjae starts sprinting in one place. The end strands of his hair in parallel motions and his child-like smile shine between the pauses. 

“Let’s run.” He says. 

“I have a volleyball match later.” Back falls to the second and third row as you complain. 

He laughs and takes your wrist, “Running helps with stress.” 

White ribbons knitted along the green corners; they jog the red track field and do a few rounds. Each passage closest to the bleachers you see the shadows diagonally downgrade across the seats. 

Despite having their lungs barely reaching air; Hyunjae persists in conversation. It presses from Earth towards your upper body as you unconsciously choose words before steps. But Hyunjae too seems incredibly out of breath for someone that trains as much as he does. 

You won’t admit it just yet–if ever–that his company is actually enjoyable. 

He lingers across the sport’s center until the shift has ended, and talks to you in insignificant states. In one way; your long shadow at the end of your feet feels guilty. An idea of a self serving dude with too much attention. In truth; he laughs a lot. 

“When’s the game?” Hyunjae asks as their feet come out of synch. 

They stand still catching breath. 

“At three.” You sigh and start walking to the bleachers. 

“Then, I’ll skip this lesson.” Hyunjae stands next to you. 

He takes out the water bottle you gifted him. Presence from your side lingers on him as he drinks, and he raises his eyebrows at the long look. 

“You don’t have to come though.” The lines above eyes cross in a slight perplexed X. 

“You were at my game last time, I should come to.” Hyunjae smiles gently. 

( tuesday, afternoon )

“Need to go to the toilet; nervousness makes me pee.” 

‘21’ in bold font disappears behind the bended wall. You direct towards people in fitted shirts as patterns before the teal walls.

It’s not usual for you to be nervous before games; nor to be completely absorbed by else’s. Now you’re unconventionally a bit more dreamy. The halo in your eyes, up at the sky and shoulder’s slack as if moon-touched. Your teammates pointed it out too when you didn’t answer after ‘Y/n!’. 

Sunwoo reentered your life this morning. The boy that had caused such a heartbreak it was unbelievable. And despite your time changes, you found yourself counting the star constellations he told you that summer. 

This sort of unending chase starts again, that the letters dated to the old camp will find its way to him. Like a foolish child's secret. 

You also wonder why Hyunjae was so persistent on going to your match. One could thread through the interactions and guess he’s become comfortable in your life too. But there’s a brief self reflection. You neither rejected him to come or encouraged. Maybe you want someone up on the bleachers shouting your name, even if it’s not Eric. 

Wooden floor reflects the studio lights like water. Eyes wanders immediately from teammates up to the bleachers. Blue plastic seats on row, to the very windows where it barely collides with the roof. There’s a few silhouettes in groups up on the high rows. Everyone waving their hands to someone, not you. 

When you see number 21 stop before the white line and bring her arm high up to one standing; you suddenly regret not messaging Eric. Though, just as fast; he maybe wouldn’t even have showed up? 

One loud whistle comes from the left; your head directs off the green line tracing vertically. Sees teammates reach their hand out for you to the ring building at the side of the rectangular room. On the opposite, mirrors like theirs in green shirts, they gather.

Thin water like bubbles trace down the narrow row from your temples. All these bubbles that have accumulated beneath the shirt, down knees and threading your throat like a transparent necklace. 

Once the last whistle soars across ceiling; you return to the corner of teammates. Someone touches your arm while running for water; a teammate smiles sincerely but exhausted. 

When shoes are in line with the white painted diagonal; your name chants above all noise. From the floor, your eyes see Hyunjae coming down the blue seats. You aren’t able to reiterate his name before arms of his own wrap around shoulders. 

The invincible spot of cologne sits beneath his shoulder blade. Evoking gently as your chin, supported by the broad shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back and try to look at his face but only reaches his ear. 

Suddenly you feel a bit insecure. 

“I’m really sweaty, Hyunjae.” You laugh awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” His hands retrites without walking back. 

Lips curve to gentle his face and the eyes like porcelain. 

“, and it fits you.” 

A strand falls before your eyes; tucked in by his hands like a dove’s wing. 

Once the match heat flush red, another round of pigment paints your cheeks. There’s no hinder above your eyes left, but still you shake your head and cough; all while Hyunjae still smiles. 

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” 

His expression, more blinding than the long lights above. It’s impossible to not curl up before. You have a certain love for looking away when adoration blooms like spring season on him. Somehow you seemed to have missed when he came to the bleachers too. 

It’s quiet, but Hyunjae still feels like hearing your voice. 

He starts, “You did grea-”

“Y/n!” 

A voice so deeply teared apart and assembled within your mind, that it exists stored in the furthest corners. There’s a certain nerve created just to react to that tone fall, you believe. 

With eyes widened and fingers loosen from each other; you pierce towards the blue door. People still run past your double vision, but for a second the world stopped. 

Eric stands with hands in the blue frame. The universe must’ve heard that wish you prayed before, and in some way, full of relief and exhaustion, you’re happy it did. Eric is visually as hesitant as you, bearing fear and soft in heart pulses. 

“Sorry, Hyunjae, it’s something important.” You jog up to the double door determined. With one last glance to the bleachers, “See you later! …Thanks for coming!” 

Confinement exists excruciating; you hoped it was just the sunbleached walls with square hole windows that trapped them. But not even the open atmosphere, heaven to the infinite universe could save them from what’s been left unsaid. 

Eric asked while passing doors “I have messaged you for two weeks, why didn’t you answer?”. You could only look at him for a second before turning to the open field. His expression begs of confusion, but truly you think he knows why. 

It’s silent. Wind from east campus brushes between the grass. You become the only thing stagnant along the heavy constructions weighing down on Earth as Eric walks up the bleachers. Blue faded denim pockets console his hands as he holds sight on his converse before white plastic. 

“You didn’t even tell me you had a game today.” He refuses to make eye contact. 

Head falls low; everythings to remind you that guilt is the heaviest matter on Earth. 

Theoretically, it’s supposed to be useless feeling alone or unloved with a person like Eric. Sometimes you catch yourself staring in mirrors to search for another pair of eyes. But it’s hard to be miserable when Eric’s been a phone call away. 

It was lonely without you, but I pushed you away. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally say. 

It’s the only thing you get out as you walk up the bleachers. Together on the second row; they watch the green grass and its maroon building boxes. A mellow sun on the edge of disappearing while the land continues flat forever. A wind of different temperature while the concrete still radiates warmth. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you Eric.” You speak again. 

Their shoes in different font over the white row; you look at them before his side appears in the same position as you. They make eye contact in what feels timeless and it trips on your heart. 

“I was-” 

“It’s oka-” 

There’s silence as they stare at each other; anticipating the other. Though the ink period of the passage becomes laughter as their shoulders collide like the southern and north pole. It ends up being Eric who speaks. 

“You’re forgiven.” He smiles and Earth sighs of relief with you. 

The two poles of their angular edge bind them gently. North and south diasporas sit in silence, whispers of the flat city come from all directions and it smells like grass or nothing in particular. 

A closed connection where everything flows freely without hinder; you had nearly forgotten about that feeling. 

Courage drapes whatever embarrassment was left in you. To breathe in before honest confession. That you love him deeply still, though any romanticized visions are of the past. 

As you think of it; a part of the old self frees and runs with you back towards the grass field. 

“I actually like you too, Y/n.” 

It hitches in your throat. 

“You don’t have to answer yet.” His smile reeks of cotton candy, and the hand on her shoulder before he leaves radiates in puddles like theme parks. 

“I’ll wait for you, princess!” Eric shouts with his hand in his pockets before turning his back. The same nickname he’s called you since seven, never understanding why. 

The stark contour of the real world fades as he disappears towards the dormitory until he’s just a mere dot. 

It’s still warm, but summer has made one privileged. You feel like wearing a jacket as your old self now takes the empty space beside. 

05 . CHAPTER FIVE 

( thursday, afternoon )

Ji Changmin has never been great at sport, and that’s never with a big N. Last night the breaking news of a 2 day beach party got delivered by the infamous friend group, and of course, everyone would be playing the mandatory volleyball games. 

Changmin took his backpack and ran, hoping Eric would be too busy arguing with someone else to notice the empty chair. But at last, Changmin walked up the dormitory corridor with Eric hanging from his left calf like chained. Desperately begging that it wouldn’t be the same if everyone doesn’t come. 

One thing led to the other and every dorm heard a passing march of footsteps to the other end. Changmin was running after Eric whilst he screamed of absolute terror (traumatized from the year before when changmin chased him down the campus, drunk). In a last attempt of escape; Eric jumped Juyeon’s room and made a borderline olympic leep down the bedding before Juyeon processed the door had been opened. 

Like the unofficial therapist he is; Juyeon told Changmin he has a friend in the volleyball team that can teach him this afternoon so as to not embarrass himself completely. 

And that’s how you stand in the same hall; wide eyed and chills growing like rose stems it might strangle you. Though, you could’ve been more embarrassed as Changmin looks about the same. 

With an aggressive tilt to your shoulder while eyelids reach your eyebrows; a firm stare directed at Juyeon. Quietly it signals “what the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Changmin?!”. 

He doesn’t get it. 

“...and he’s really bad.” Juyeon ends while smiling. 

“I’m not that bad.” Changmin side eyes the taller one; also in search for some backup. 

“Yes, you are silly.” His eyes crease in turn with the ends of his lips. From the right side, his hands come up to ruffle the sprout of Changmin’s head. 

All three compiled the net up. You had no interest in bringing up the letter for either Changmin or Juyeon; therefore you rigid and pale served the first shot. 

But thankful for Juyeon’s excitement and obliviousness (surprising) to the reunion he just set up; the tension wore off Changmin’s shoulder and your pigments returned. 

All would rotate between the two sides of the net. You would purse lips to a thin line and turn the plastic of your shoes on the hard floor before running up to Changmin to show him how to serve. At first you stood a little less than a meter behind him; shoved gestures in the air to somehow manipulate his own body to do the same movements. But at last you went up to him, held his hand like gentle rain. 

There was not a bruise or patterns of shades on his palms. Either he’s absolutely addicted to hand cream or those text books of his must enchant his skin while turning pages. 

Changmin felt fragile like all ancient history when you showed him. He tried to be quiet, shyly only talking to Juyeon, but couldn’t help but let out shrieks every time he missed or won. It was just like board games at the dinner table when their parents whispered in the other room. 

You suddenly shout, “Move!” 

Juyeon’s on the opposite side of the two and forced the ball up to the roof with neck breaking power. 

You see how Changmin doesn’t; instead glued to the floor with knees rigid and his hands come up in chest length as if it will save him. You desperately swing your shoulder to the right, but all actions are in vain when their foreheads collide. Force acts up on them and leads them to the ground. Swear it was visible stars circling both heads. 

As the collision wears off and presence hits you as a second impact; terrified you watch Changmin between own two arms down the floor. Legs have his stomach tied to the flooring; 

where in all directions you are. And when they both blushes of embarrassment; Changmin’s hands come a little higher up his chest. 

“You’re supposed to chase the ball.” You stutter and hastily push up from him but miserably fails as the clothing material slips on the floor. 

“I’m sorry-” 

Changmin, just as terrified, apologizes while pushing himself off the floor. One way and two directions; they shut their eyes painfully as the point between their eyebrows hit each other again. One step further down his stomach.

“You didn’t even tell me we had started.” Changmin complains and holds his forehead, looking at Juyeon who climbs under the net. 

You slide off him; knees supporting any weight while at the end of his calves. Great silence from the tunnel system in the high ceiling expands over the yellow walls. It scratches in their throats that you cough. It was enough to crack the tension layered like a glass dome. 

“I don’t feel the same, Y/n.” Changmin sits up. 

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because you know what he means without asking. Fingers left racing the floor.

“Old story; you were not supposed to get it, I’m sorry.” Guiltily purse lips in, “Also, sorry for falling on you.” 

Suddenly gentle, his legs come over in crisscross and he leans closer to your figure. 

“Yeah…it’s fine.” He confirms in same tone, “Though, I appreciate it. The letter.” 

He pauses. 

“...I had no idea.” Changmin admits.

You laugh, “Really? I was super obvious.” 

“You think so?” He skeptically smiles. 

To bring your arms to an imaginable table and articulate, “I literally held my arms over the textbooks to lean over to you..” 

“I just thought you were a bad listener.” Changmin smiles, bothered, like he always does.  

They both laugh. 

Another shine made by the sun outside draws with a ruler down the yellow wall. It has an angular cut in where it has a darker wooden frame just above the floor. Like the highlight is a window to the midsummers of one’s childhood; you dare to hold eyes open and watch. 

They used to sit at the dining table where the pattern cloth folds at your knees. Because you were way too shy to invite him behind your room door. Sometimes, laughs loud enough for them to hear came from the living room where both their mom’s sat. Mostly they whispered; never understood why. 

When they were younger, he was mostly intimidating. So much taller and just his glasses felt like a sign of great intelligence. But truly his personality held some sort of shine you believed was a leftover from some ancient spell along the yellow fields. 

With their families having dinner sometimes; the two of them used to play board or card games late into the afternoon when the adults still sat along the dinner table. You didn’t want to invite your brother when you finally had time to talk to Changmin without it being about math, but he was way too nice to leave him out. 

“Is your cat good?” Changmin asks suddenly, “Or is he dead?” He knits his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Smiles and thinks of how Scuba Steve, in his orange white complexion used to jump into Changmin’s lap while he was tutoring. And when he talked to him so sweetly and petted him along the long fur; her teenage self used to dream about their future (delusion). 

“It feels like he liked everyone more than me.” You admit while leaning into your palm. 

“I’m sure he liked you too.” He laughs. 

“Are you going to the beach party?” Changmin suddenly asks, “You’re close with Eric, right?” He knits his eyebrows, “Aren’t you together with Jaehyun too?” 

“No, no, no, I’m not with Jaehyun.” You fall back to the floor and hands melt down your face. 

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You add, “But no, I’m not going.” 

“Why not?” 

Visions from the past weeks pass like a bad trailer and you close your eyes. Sunwoo and Eric run across the field in a sort of evangelical light and Hyunjae in the far corner.

You sort of lie, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to meet Eric.” 

Changmin stands up, “I’m only going if you do.” 

“Don’t do this.” You complain. 

“No, whatever’s going on, we’re fixing it now.” He takes your shoulder and forces you up. You whine again and try to make the weight fall back to Earth. 

“I’m fighting volleyball and you’re fighting Eric, great!” He cheers.

There was a lot more than Eric you had to fight this weekend. 

The ball goes flying in their direction again. It lands on Changmin’s head and forces his glasses to the floor. They both look to the right and see Juyeon stand awkwardly upright, hands hanging like leaves as he longs for the ball. 

“I missed.” He deadpan. 

You take the ball and look at Changmin. He smiles knowingly before you both rush at Juyeon. 

( friday, morning )

“Do you want some?” 

Your head turns to the right where the sun shines through the glass brighter. It ceases through the back of his loose strands like the tree crowns from summer camp. 

When you came down to the bus station, Changmin waved at you from a stack of backpacks piled like a mountain. Juyeon stood slightly behind and followed the shoerter’s movements. You asked them if they plan on moving with that; Changmin answered it was Juyeon’s and Eric’s bags. He had–while straightening his posture–just taken the necessary. 

When all had arrived, you got a third row seat at the back beside Sunwoo. You had met again on campus. It turned out between all those words that both were going to the party this weekend. You mentioned how you’re mainly here as Changmin’s emotional support.

Sunwoo– a little horrified– told you he’ll have eyes in the back of his neck for this trip. Hyunjae, Eric or anyone else for that matter could come up from behind and throw hsi poor body in the water. With both in desperate situations, they jokingly built a pact to have each other’s back on this trip. 

So when you sit beside Sunwoo, and look down the space created against the armrest where he reaches out a pink package. He shakes it and you smile before taking a hand off the backpack. 

“You stole my pocky?” 

Tearing away from that space; they look behind the red seat to see Eric leaned over the two. He pierces down at Sunwoo with a dumbfounded O of his lips and starts pointing at the roots of Sunwoo’s hair which he ducks away from. 

“I didn’t steal it.” He defends. 

“It’s mine, I bought it this morning.” Eric looks at you, begging for sympathy, “Now I have no snacks.” 

“You said you weren’t going to eat them.” Sunwoo hides them. 

“They’re mine!” Eric hangs down the seat. Immediately you take the edge of his sleeve as if he’ll fall on you. 

“You’re gonna eat them now?” Sunwoo taunts, “Take the jelly grapes.” He throws out a plastic package from his bag while still chewing. 

“Let’s split it.” Eric deadpans while holding out his palm. 

“I’ll buy you one later.” Sunwoo repeat. 

Eric laughs from above, “You literally just asked Y/n!” He points. 

Sunwoo gets quiet for a second; looks up et Eric, before back at Y/n. 

“Can’t you just eat the grapes?” He shakes the package up in Eric’s face. 

Feet fall back to the floor, the row behind them and Eric, still dumbfounded, points at Sunwoo while stunned searches for assent in you. 

“He’s shameless.” Eric sits down. 

Where the dense complexes only ends when shore starts, the bus ride isn’t long. Despite constant traffic, conversations over the unconscious roaring of the bus engine; you resisted the falling weight of eyelids but at last, gave in. The last minutes when blue hues start to form between the windows and houses lined up against the sand. Head falls onto Sunwoo’s shoulder. 

Changes surprises him, but just as immediately he gently falls back into his seat and your head comes between his neck like the last piece of a 100 puzzle. How could he describe the violent but gentle flutter that grows from a part in his chest and blooms into all directions. And when each stem leaves its youth and creates rosen petals at his fingertips; the playlist in his headphones changes song. 

A melody of 80s slow paced rhythm and a voice soft like silk; lies over the muted woven chorals and yellow of the beach houses. Tiny flowers in perfect composition, like a trail across each street and when he sees the roof of the largest beach houses, just below the shore; Sunwoo wishes the bus would take one more round. 

He dares to look down.  He has seen this image before. All those movie nights in the dining room at summer camp evening. When he rushed to take the seat beside you before anyone else. And towards the end of the long hour you couldn’t keep your eyes open and leaned just like now, on his shoulder. It’s been so long but it doesn’t feel like a season has passed since that summer when he sees your hand lightly touching his own. 

“You need sunscreen, Jaehyun!” You wave the blue plastic tube while slipping down the sand. Hyunjae looks over his shoulder, smirking questionably to her while you come closer. 

“You’ll get skin cancer.” You squint when the blue sky shines behind him. 

“You do it then.” He smiles. 

Holding hands above your eyes, hoping it’ll cease all rosen blushes, “I’m not your mom.” 

“Please, Y/n.” He shakes your forearms, pouting. At first your own hands come up to his chest to force him off, but retrites like touching a hot stove as he’s shirtless. 

“Okay, okay.”

Overarching sand, up to the wooden porch, frees from the rest when they walk up. Hyunjae quickly takes the lead when he jumps up on fixed ground and takes a seat on the edge of the porch. How he wiggle his legs like an excited child while smiling so brightly; you didn’t know he could. You fall to knees behind him and awkwardly look over his hair. 

“Can’t you just do it yourself?” Sun highlights his skin from above. The sharp points of his shoulders, down to his arms, seem soothing against the sharp sand. That specific smell of sunscreen, so deeply ingrained into summer, trace along the porch. Your palm hesitantly moves back and forth between the flexed spot of his shoulder. 

“Just do it, Angel.” Hyunjae looks back at you encouragingly, but you quickly lie the cold sunscreen on his skin to divert him. In the clear summer sun spotlight, your cheeks luminates of struck pink. 

“Ah, it’s cold.” Hyunjae’s shoulder rises up and you continue soothing it in one hand. 

“Don’t complain.” You try to sound normal. 

They got along more than you originally thought. Hesitant to calling people friends, but you guess that's what they are. Though, friends shouldn’t blush of nervousness from innocent touch, right? Especially when Hyunjae leans back further into your hand, and you wonder if it’s wrong. 

At the same time; Eric peeks from the doors to the beach house. He tries to convince himself he’s longingly looking at the open shore, but it’s merely a background to Hyunjae and you.

It’s not that you’re lying, he thinks. You looked more than authentic that day, he asked if they were together and you denied. It’s not a competition, but still he feels a burn coming from another direction than the sun when your hands go to his neck and Hyunjae laughs from tickling. 

“Y/n!” 

You turn from Hyunjae and see Eric coming closer. All that in one motion, you forgot about the painfully obvious red of your face. It isn’t until Eric’s eyes widens and he falls in height to take your left cheek. 

“You’ve burned yourself, Y/n.” Eric traces with his thumb the rose colors of your essence and  to feel it coming off your skin, embarrassingly paint your soul. At this point,  nervousness would leak out from your skin, but by Eric’s and Hyunjae’s wide eyes and open mouths; they’re completely oblivious to their work. 

“N-” Stuttering out the beginning of a no; you stop suddenly as there’s no good excuse for the color. 

“Let me help you.” Hyunjae reaches for the tube down the wood and you immediately try back from Eric’s gentle palms. 

“No, no, no, it’s just heat.” 

“Water.” Eric wants to get you on foot, take you to the kitchen. 

“You need a cold bath.” Hyunjae says quickly after and without looking at Eric takes you in bridal style. Hand lets go of Eric’s and he’s left standing as you in panic tries to convince Hyunjae to turn away from shore. Hyunjae laughs while shouting that you’ll overheat.

It’s a dark seemingly normal, but guilty jealousy Eric watches the older one throw his best friend down the water. You’re quick on your feet again, and start chasing Hyunjae further down. Laughs come from that side while Eric tears his eyes off the new waves; clench his fist because frustration might visibly leak out his skin, and turn back to the house to take his mind off. 

It was only a limited amount of sups, you shared one with Changmin. They had agreed to alt the paddle in interval, but it was you who ended up dragging them both along the surface while Chnagmin sat behind, criticizing the solo sups. 

His victim was mainly Juyeon who traversed the first ocean layer for a good minute playing God until he lost balance. The entire group laughed while he tried to climb up. At the same time Sunwoo laughed so hard he was second to fall in. 

Changmin did well, all things considered, when it was beach volleyball. Juyeon and you cheered on him. That brought him enough confidence to stand at the front. Which wasn’t his greatest moment as he fell head first into the net. 

Sun’s, fleetly asleep above the horizon. All those hours of shine still left like a memory in the sand while four of them still play, the rest swimming, taken a seat with the group who grills or in the house. Laughter with the waves collide, creating a divide of foam. Breeze ensues their hearts. 

It smells of garlic smoked marinade from behind once the ball comes over again. Though at first refusing to go, you’re still thankful for Changmin who desperately forced a game over either way. 

Soon there’s food and you sit on the porch once again. Sunset like a filter over the shore and its houses, maybe the heart too. 

“I have some for you.” 

You look up at who you thought was Eric, with a brightly printed paper plate, gathered of the same choices since childhood. But you blink once, realize it’s Sunwoo. He takes the space beside where only vague music accompanied earlier. 

“Oh, thank you, Sunwoo.” You smile and take the second plate. 

“No worries.” He bends down to eat a bite of his own food. 

A scenery in fleeting composition, scattered of dust passes through the peripheral. 

“I remember you used to take food to me back then too.” Unconscious of the tender light you hold while tracing the oil leaking across plastic shine. 

“Yeah,” He looks at his chicken, “Cause you were always busy sorting stones.” 

You scoff, “Why? You’re judging my hobbies?” 

“No,” He answer truthfully, “It was cute.” 

“My stones?” You tilt. 

“You.” 

Sunwoo’s voice is monotone like it wasn’t supposed to blemish your heart like the orange and dark blue sky divide. The bones across your shoulders and hover over chest convulse in like wings of the delighting butterflies. 

Sunwoo looks up from the food, “I don’t really remember how your stones looked.” 

You smile and take a bite, “I guess that’s why I married you back then.” 

Still confined between your own frame to prevent any sheer wings of escape; you miss how his ears perked up together with his horrible posture. Him in his sharp complexion becomes adorably curious. 

“You remember that?” He says surprised. 

“Of course.” She says as if it’s obvious. Sunwoo looks down at the sand as if to see the smitten reflection of his face in them. 

“I actually didn’t think you’d remember.” He says quietly. 

Another song on the playlist comes on and a group of people rush beside them. Jumping off the porch; their silhouettes darken in pink contrast as water evaporates on their burnt arms. 

Sunwoo dares to look to your side; still eating and it further reminds him of times in circles when they sat next to each other. Something absurd with seeing you again like this. For some nameless reason you have lived all these years as a little girl in his memories, constantly visiting when summer’s approaching. Now you're here, finally at the same age. 

He knows he shouldn’t advance, shouldn’t take a step closer on the porch. Since behind him just some meters further, Hyunjae sits. How adoringly he thinks of Hyunjae because he has you unconditionally by one side. 

“I remember you told me about the stars.” You suddenly say. 

Sunwoo looks at you then the skies, vaguely guilty that there's nothing's left to see yet.

He smiles,  “Damn, I can’t see them, otherwise I would’ve told you about them again.”

You hold head tilted at his side while his eyes still squint for a light away to hit them, “You can show me later.” 

 You don't know what has crawled into you lately, but it’s dependent and has zero abstinence. 

As if the hangover from last week wasn’t enough to convince you; you’re drunk once again (this time in the kitchen). Juyeon worriedly came over, asking if you’re always this bad with alcohol. In turn you took his shoulders dramatically and said no, shaking him. 

And you weren't the only one. In the same vein, at another window by the house; Eric found Sunwoo staring dead into the reflection. When asked what he was doing, Sunwoo simply replied he’s staring at bird shit and laughing like it was the funniest thing. 

Most people are still outside. Fairy lights might look like fireflies in this state as it cradles lightly from night weather. As people cross the sand it changes patterns. It lays a plastic cup further away which Eric runs to pick up. You don't know what song is playing when the high frame expands as walls in all directions, but you think it’s good. 

“Can you dance?” You look at Sunwoo. He turns confusingly with bad posture from the bird shit. An awkward beat drop passage muffled by the walls takes the silence. 

Suddenly you jump up to him in another rhythm than the beat. Smiles wholeheartedly while waving arms.

“I can’t.” You answer your own questions and do a spin. 

Sunwoo’s hangs down its sides like towels over the branches. You reflect in highlights by his porcelain eyes. He must look extremely out of it as the pupils can’t concentrate on the shifting lights and his amused smile. But you couldn’t tell. 

You force his tired arms up in an awkward rocking-back-and-forth swing. He laughs that his teeth show when you start complaining how he’s stiffer than the expensive couch behind them. 

“Let’s tango.” You take his arms and they start circling around the room with either hand on their shoulders and next in each other’s clasp, straight forward. Sunwoo’s laugh overpowers the music as they nearly collide with the couch. Through the window frame they must look like a middle school couple. 

And as if galactic alignment was truly divine; the next song on the playlist slows to a vintage soundtrack as if from an old romcom. They’re still laughing when the circles haste and all weight stills on the carpet lining. 

They’re so drunk, Sunwoo can’t hold himself when your face comes so close. 

“You know…” He starts. 

“No.” You deadpan.

“Don’t speak.” Sunwoo complains and you fall one step backwards from laughing. 

“You know, we’ve reached our 11th marriage anniversary.” He smiles drunkenly, “I think I deserve a kiss for surviving our long distance.” 

“You haven’t even shown me the stars yet.” You whine and curl his hand in a weird way. 

“I know, I know.” He screws his eyes, it looks like it hurts.

“Just give me a kiss and we’ll go outside.” He purses his lips out. 

“Can you even name the constellations still?” You knit your eyes. 

“Of course, there’s Little bear.” Sunwoo points at your nose. You contract your head and watch his finger tip with big eyes. 

“I’m actually a Capricorn.” 

Sunwoo’s lips curve harder as his head falls between the space created from their chests. You watch the root pattern of his hair before he comes up again. 

“You’re really cute.” He smiles. 

You can’t help clasp his hands and twine fingers even harder, “Really?” 

He nods that his fringe follows. 

“Am I cute too?” Sunwoo asks, leaning in.

You think, rolling your eyes slowly, “No.” 

He pouts with big eyes. 

“Again,” He flicks your nose lightly. 

“Me or the flowers?” Sunwoo points at a vase beside the couch. You turn over your shoulder to see the arrangement of pink blemishes with white roots. 

You pretend to think, “Hmm.” 

There’s a anticipation like a butterfly on the last leaf, flickering its sheer patterned wings before taking off. Just like that, it pulses of thousand wings in both your hearts. All as Sunwoo lean in closer. Fingers laced through the other like silk and he pulls you closer by them. When the heat accumulated in the chests collide, with your lips merely touching his own. The tension weighs heavy, it might impend on the room. 

The door from the kitchen beside them forces open. 

Both Sunwoo and you loosen the lace and throw yourself onto the couch. A painful thud erupts from the back rest when Sunwoo crashes nape first. Your condition is in dangerous state, therefore you land about 10 centimeters too short and glide off the couch to the floor. 

When the outer door closes and Eric passes by the frame, he sees Sunwoo decked out; arms hanging lifelessly and his mouth opened, supported by the backrest. 

The cup in his hand nearly topples over when he rushes to stand it on any flat surface. It pulses through the floor when Eric comes down to you. A cold hand from all the ice soothes your forehead and you look up to see Eric’s fringe like a sheer curtain before his eyes. 

“You’re okay?” He asks worriedly, “How much have you drunk?” 

Eric takes your arm and scolds you gently. As you stand up you incoherently try to defend yourself, but quit abruptly as Sunwoo comes into the story. 

Eric guided you up to the bedroom’s at second floor, leaving Sunwoo to die. 

“Eric?” You lie down. 

“Mm?” He flatten out the sheet above you. 

“I forgot.” 

Eric snorts, “Really?” 

“Mm.” You insist. 

Two essence divided between the mattress line in the mit; still staring at the same ceiling. Eric never leaves your side; instead insists on talking about nothing and everything while time wraps in a 4th dimension of one's mind until you can’t rhetorically answer “Mm?”. 

Eric finally ceases to babble when shifting his head to your side. The pillows bud like a flower on his cheek when his body completely draws to your field. He knows you will probably feel like shit tomorrow morning, but for now you lie neatly above the creases like white flower of a heaven’s cross field. 

The incredible magnetic field of your essence seems to draw in more admirers than just himself, Eric understands. He barely convinces himself that the letter is an eventual sign of their destined love, but just barely. 

I can’t know who you dream about as you sleep soundly right now, he thinks while admiring. A face or two flashes before him and Eric sits up. Quietly look at the framed picture on the wall before back down at you. 

For now, he’s in denial. 

Eric takes one hand off your side to lay on your stomach. His bare fingertips dare to soothe out nothing’s on the cheek just to feel your warmth. He hesitates for a second, but before fully walking off the bed and closing the door; he bends down to kiss your cheek, just gently. 

06 . CHAPTER SIX 

( monday, midday )

The day has finally come–or not come as in an anticipated date set in stone from the past–rather Hyunjae woke up and felt courage. The last weeks they’ve seen each other nearly every afternoon, and for each time he imagines himself having persuaded you a little closer. And the last beach party seems to have been the silver lining for his confidence to finally confess how he feels. 

This afternoon they will meet on the track field for some regular training, but what you don't know is that he will be asking you to be his girlfriend, seriously this time. 

Though, between the lecture times, staring at strangers from the row tables; he consciously realized he doesn’t quite know what you like. Or of course, he knows you like astrology, biology, cat’s, exercising but just enough that you can walk guilt free home to the bed. That you always walk around with a first aid kit, and like a mother bandage burnt skin or wrecked ankles. 

But none of that is of use when your heart is supposed to flutter at his mere sight this afternoon. 

So at a table in the cafeteria; Hyunjae takes the opposite chair of a round table where Eric sits alone. Enticed in his own world; he jumps when the chair creaks of his weight. 

Hyunjae figured it was just to ask Eric, your best friend for advice. The older may stand a ruler inferior in emotion to Eric than Juyeon, but nonetheless they have spent many house parties together, jumping off the high roof or throwing pillows at the third. 

Eric always looks at him with a smile, nearly identical to his own. But right now, the red blisters' contours wave lower than what it usually does. His eyes adverts between the sad glass divide over the sandwiches and Hyunjae. But the older forces it in an identical manner to the left. 

Eric nonchalantly told him he doesn’t know what you would romantically like from him. Hyunjae complained saying he should know since they’re best friends, but Eric reiterates his line, “Yeah, just friends.” 

Hyunjae doesn’t cease from the chair, neither his voice. Eric looks at the sandwiches again and guilty bruises his fingers underneath the table. In Eric’s eyes; Hyunjae could win over anyone by just slowly articulate every crook of their name. 

It’s not to admit that he’s threatened, Eric thinks. To rationalize the frustration he theorize Hyunjae hasn’t taken enough of a time to get to know you. 

Eric’s never been evil. His moral compass holds him on the sane lane; even when emotions begs to pull the other way. But right now, while in silence, the magnetic field of the Earth pulls on the arrows. 

“Okay.” Eric puts down the drink. Hyunjae leans in attentively. 

“She wants a big, HUUGE confession. You know, those in rom coms where the guy comes out with a huge boombox and gives her flowers and has a big sign.” Eric takes his arms up in the, above his chest in height with his hair. To visually stun him he waves his hands down like confetti and shakes a hypothetical boombox. All while Hyunjae’s expression all visually gets more nervous.

“Okay.” He walks up without looking at Eric. Head deep down the floor as if thinking. 

( monday, afternoon )

The white streaks wrapped as a present lining across the field is the same as every time he walks past. But even when the scenery is familiar to his conscious, the heart anxiously breathes in quick patterns. It causes invincible scratches at the inner side of his hands while his eyes can’t hold a scene for longer than a second. There’s a couple walking past the fields down the west campus; Hyunjae’s head follows them until their backs are a mere blemish along the sidewalk. 

With his hand tightly knitted behind his back he looks at the grass growing up from under his shoes. Suddenly he looks up again. 

Like the world just ended; the sun’s growing, tearing all the accessible and it rounds the golden halo. You’re just left in trance watching how it all beautifully collapses. That’s what your presence does to his troubled heart when your upper body comes up the staircase. 

You wave with your free hand as you see him at the center of the rectangular land. Hyunjae doesn’t mirror it, instead refuses to change any position. You tilt your head in wonder for a moment, but nonetheless carry on towards his figure, until there’s just a meter across. 

“Hi, Jaehyun.” You say gently. 

“Hi, Y/n.” He shifts his head so that a part of hsi fringe falls forward. 

You turn to see his side profile, as if he’s sick. With concerned woven shape of your face, you ask, “Are you okay?” 

An awkward tenderness in his fronting psyche. To touch his shoulder might cause it to splinter in its frozen preserved state. Hyunjae clasps his hands that’s still behind; gaze your face as if though you were the first he’s ever seen. 

Silence insists to frustratingly exist after your question. 

When a scene of the entire world, flipped in your eye; he breathes in and falls with one to the grass. His hand trails as if cold to the pocket and takes out his phone, turning the speaker outlet in your higher direction. 

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Y/n?” 

A bouquet in pastel silk tightly concealed in a ribbon of a darker shade. 

“Hold on.” Hyunjae drops the mobile to the ground; the music practically disappears as it swallows by the grass. 

All eyes on the thin space of his front pocket as he struggles to let loose the bits of red paper. At last some gather in his palm and he throws it up in the air as enthusiastically one can without a canon. The flowers now fully extended as the last bits of craft paper adorn his head. 

A sore spot on his left knee aches under this weight. The teeth of his smile, slowly together as he bear witness to your expression, blinking cause your lips are opened but stunned. Though he can’t read good or horrible. As he starts tilting from instability he clenches the flowers tightly. 

“I didn’t find a boombox, and the party store was closed.” Hyunjae looks behind you instead of up. Embarrassingly wonder if you would have wanted a grand confession in the college cafeteria. He won’t say it, but in all honesty he didn’t have the guts for that. 

It feels like you’ve seen this scene before; in some movie lost to time, you’re sure it has crossed you once. The sad petals taken by the wind, fallen on his shoulders or thread beneath your feet. But still might be the most soft of all thousand interactions of your life. 

Hyunjae seems embarrassed, you can’t fully tell; he looks at you from passages but sways towards the right at the end. How the past and present crashes at once to see him fully and clearly without cover. He’s such a vision that this should flutter all the lonely parts in the arch marrow body, but nothing goes off. 

It’s like standing on the fourth of may, but no fireworks light up. 

You finally smile gently, still eyes on Hyunjae. His expression waits for even a whisper, but instead a hand crosses between the fragile space. Yours takes his wrists, behind where the fingers cross the stems. Gently tugging him up from the grass as the last bits of paper rock down his shoulders. 

“It’s really lovely, Jaehyun.” You smile and he’s finally up. 

The space opens again. 

“But I can’t.” You look at him as both lips synchronize withers. 

“I’m sorry.” 

A heavy wind brushes past; lies a weight on your hearts. Hyunjae, who has never once been the one pushed away, hears lone footsteps echo in the boned structure. It’s a bit embarrassing, it’s a bit sad; he feels like he maybe shouldn’t have said anything. 

You see in full vision how his mind travels elsewhere. Still with flowers and the barely audible mobile that now has changed track to a mellow love song of 80s nostalgia. How depressing everything suddenly became. 

“I still like you, Jaehyun,” You break the silence, “You were honestly a lot nicer than I originally thought.” 

He looks up. 

You smile weakly, “When I saw you on campus I thought you flirted with every woman and acted all big.” You gesture with your shoulders and Hyunjae laughs slightly. 

“But you’re actually very kind.” 

He reaches out the flowers once again. You look up at him with eyes, x-ed expression. 

“It’s still your flowers, I want you to have them.” He says gently. 

You hesitate but he shakes them in front of you. Once loosen on the tensioned shoulders; you take one hand out for the stems and look at them closely. Deeply pink with faded inner circles. 

( wednesday, afternoon ) 

That table at the cafeteria where they always meet has been occupied two days in a row. You come by between classes and yearn through the window, but at last; there’s always a shirt in a color Eric wouldn’t wear sitting in his place. 

At the changing distance through the evening, at the lone table beside your bed; all those papers in painful yellow highlight, tire sore eyes and vision yearns for the computer at the other side. Watch the letter box they communicate through everyday, but is now quiet. 

You’ve messaged Sunwoo through facebook; asked him why Eric ceased from Earth. He answered through digital letters that he’s busy, but truthfully Sunwoo knows better than anyone Eric scatters to avoid you. Eric won’t fully admit why; the closest to a confession Sunwoo got was a bleak understanding of inner guilt over something. 

“You’re sad.” 

You turn to the left where Juyeon sits with curious eyes before the library shelves. Side by side at the communal computers; he has watched you stare at the search page for four minutes without intervention. 

“Do you want to go and see the cats?” He asks gently. 

You sink down on the table. Hands curl up at the keyboard while the wooden surface catches your chin. 

“No, but thank you, Juyeon.” You say tired. 

“Is it Eric?” He asks, leaning down. 

You nod. 

“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m afraid we won’t be friends anymore.” You pause, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” 

“You should tell him that.” Changmin peaks from behind the computer, opposite you and Juyeon. 

“Honesty is always valued.” 

“You know, whatever it is..” Juyeon speaks from the right side, “at least having it said will lift the weight off. You have an assignment next week, right?” Juyeon points at the screen. 

“Eric would make fun of you for worrying about boys instead of studying.” 

You smile weakly. 

07 . FINAL CHAPTER 

( saturday, evening ) 

Edges of sharp stone scratches against your old bicycle. Those few streetlights with meters in between emits across the gravel. On the path from your old house, it was quiet like it always is in family neighbourhoods. But as you come closer to Eric’s old house; ruptures in form of music and laughter leak out the open windows. 

You had to stay longer in the library working. Time passed like it never does when one’s bored, and suddenly you had missed the first train and waited for the other. It isn’t too far out your old neighbourhood, just a few stations that with each passing minute gets dimmer and dimmer because of lack of lining lamps. 

Running the last passage to your front door to take the bike, and now you’re standing at his post. The same sign that hangs on the door, rusted of all year’s weather, intimidates you serenely. 

At last, with one foot you force down the supporting metal where all other bikes stand. Close eyes on the handle while the laughter is still muted. 

It has never felt so hard knocking on his door. 

The blurred window at the roof of the door; you stare at it when finally knocking. Anticipation hugs your knees painfully as you take a step back. Look at all places except the white door. Drag your hands along the clothing fabrics as if it’ll obscure you. 

Speakers frees from the door while you feel like running towards the woods. 

“Welcome in!” 

You don't recognize the man holding this door you’ve walked through since five. His expression contrasts your neutral one. There’s a red cup in his hand, he asks if you want some; you thank him, but reject. 

As you come in line with each other through the hallway with mountains of shoes, you look at his back, insecure, before speaking. 

“Do you know where Eric is?” 

He turns, “Hmm..” Scratching his nape and leaning toward the opening frames of all the different rooms. 

“I think he’s in the living room?” The guy points further into the apartment, you thank him. 

Despite all open windows and meters of space; the air is horribly suffocating. People sit two and two, talk in five’s, and a path like pattern goes through the crowd. You let it take you, hoping it somehow brings you to Eric. 

Your feet, that still have shoes on, cease to motion diagonally towards a large couch group. Between all those mere strange faces you’ve may seen once; a face so deeply dissected and remade sits in between. He’s at the center like the sun itself, and people gravitate towards him. 

Somehow you would go back to your corner, sink down quietly. But you’ve been running for too long. Hand behind your back, wrists rope tied while your conscious threats to slaughter from behind, push you forward. 

“Eric?” You say above the laughter, and his couch group turns towards you. 

You swallow when his expression changes to something calmly unreadable, “I need to talk to you.” 

A filter falls like a sheer cover of snow when he closes the door. They’re alone behind the house, blue illumination like an upside down universe highlights you from below. Neither Eric or you had said something, but it wasn’t noticeable until the world ran out of sound too. 

Eric’s silhouette leaves your side and sits by the edge of the pool. With his barefoots into the galactic mirror, his face shades and colors like the moon. You too walk to the edge, sit by his side and see his legs make waves throughout the water. 

He’s unfamiliarly quiet; similar to when you know something someone else doesn’t. 

“I think I like someone, Eric.” You say gently without wasting. 

He looks at you, soft and tender, “You do?” He smiles. 

You smile too and nod. 

His feet make water soar before becoming whole again. Your fingers tear at the concrete lining the pool. 

“...and I’m not sure he likes me back…therefore it can’t be you.” 

Heavy silence like the Universe itself weighs over them. World’s full of life, yet there’s an empty echo in the marrow arch of your cathedral body. 

Eric gazes at the transparent surface of the water, smiling weakly because it’s the only thing right to do.

“Though, I still love you, Eric.” You lean towards his shoulder. Tear his side profile like you beg it is not the last time you see it. 

“So much as you can possibly love someone, and a little more.” 

He looks up, fringe falling, “It’s okay, I know.” 

Voice fragile, so heartbreaking against the smile that could light up the entirety of the solar system. He’s like the pool beneath, a galactic universe tightly compacted into a pond. 

His mere existence makes your eyes glisten and words frail, “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

He smiles and takes your wrist, “Why are you saying sorry, princess.” 

They both sit there for a moment. The constellations pass a centimeter above the bended celestial before you walk up. Half disappear behind the wall while Eric is left at the pool edge. You can’t bring yourself to leave; having one eye on his back as if it'll fall when you go. 

Eric looks back to your wall suddenly, like he knows. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, nails exhaustingly tearing at the house. 

Eric shakes his head, waving you off gently before speaking quietly, “Go get your prince.” 

Stones shatter beneath the weight of two tires. All houses are drowned in nightshade glistens of warm lighted windows like the stars above, that is childhood. 

Grass divided into squares lined with fences; streamline, down the gravel path until it opens up in a wide circle. You know this place because here’s where everyone always met. 

All those gravel paths, identical to the one you just left maze down to a grass circle. The very heart of all these houses, a meter lower than the rest. You pass the path contouring it and all these strokes of green nature hinders you down. You stop with one foot off the pedal and lean your weight while standing up. 

Where all distance creates a perfect cross; a boy much familiar to you lies. His own bicycle stranded a meter or two from his still body. Laying on his back with his head tilted on its forearms. Sunwoo’s completely still like midnight around him. It calms you just how water drains from head down after sunshine, but heart tears at its veins. 

You found him. 

To let go of the bicycle; forcing down the metal to leave it standing. Eventually you walk towards him, slowly as if you’ll scare him away. 

About three meters from his feet; Sunwoo suddenly looks away from the star fields and up to you. 

“Oh, hi Y/n.” He says like he always does. 

You cease to stop, “Hi, Sunwoo.” 

He can’t quite place why you’re here. You seem to come up in unexpected moments; take him by heart like a sudden season though he’s been admiring the trees for an eternity. It begins with your hair; how it seemingly floods down on your shoulders. Just like the jewel reflection like glitter under your eyes . 

“You’re crying?”

You’re taken back by his question; taking a hand to the cold skin beneath your vision. Liquid dried tight to your complexion.  

“It’s a long story,” You stutter; head turns to the ground before your expression becomes decrepit, but poetical. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

After silence, you sigh; lending a bit of your worry to Earth. All the heavy mountains, all heavy oceans.

You start, “I have something to tell you.” 

Grass stands in between his fingers when they lie flat against the ground. Sunwoo forces himself up while observing your expression. You neither walk closer or further; chin falling in patterns as pupils pierce onto the sight behind him or the grass beneath his feet. Only in mere passages eye contact lasts. 

You open your mouth to speak, but realize you have a bad habit of coating everything in a thin layer of sugar as if feeding your words to a child. But there’s a certain bitter aftertaste in being honest. 

“I love you, Sunwoo.” The words free from a deep part within. Tears off the inner skin and momentarily aches the body cathedral. He doesn’t say anything. Sitting in place, whether it’s of shock or horror, one can’t tell. To expand the details of his expression, but there’s always two possibilities to his wide eyes and space between lips. Hurriedly you continue. 

“I really like you Sunwoo, I’m sorry.” You look down to the left, “I just needed to say it.” You open your arms, not like a hug, rather an impediment. 

“So do what you want, Sunwoo.” You breathe in heavily while searching for the world reflected in his window. 

“Just break my heart if that’s what you have to, please, just–” 

“I love you too.” 

“...do–what?” Your arms fall to their sides and the pupil without dimensions expands across the pearl, reaching the far edge of its colorization. 

“I love you too.” He stutters more this time. 

Every cosmic mass bulging on your shoulders and tearing your back convulses from behind. It like everything eventually does; changes form and frees for the roof without limit. It has compressed your lungs into tiny pulses, you didn’t even notice. Yet the milky way’s worth of celestial bodies frees from you; only eyelids show movement. 

You breathe heavily while looking at Sunwoo with parted lips. He looks just as cosmically affected as you. 

“But aren’t you together with Jaehyun?” He suddenly says. 

You’re quiet for a second before bursting out in laughter. 

“No…no.” You take your hands up before your chest and smile “You’re still there?” 

Sunwoo’s still crossed brow of confusion. Neither laughing nor speaking. 

“I was his fake girlfriend for the parties, but we’re not like that.” 

You pause. 

“We could never be like that…” You hold your arms behind your back, titling your head when a star aligns with his position. 

“Not when you exist.” 

He admires you deeply in the same way, one layer below. Knees have come up to his chin and he hugs them slightly while hypnotized following the last season’s breeze across your face. 

You’re not sure what is supposed to happen now. But truthfully, you could live adoring the opposite like this for an eternity longer. 

Though, Sunwoo has other plans. 

The surface of his shoes bend down the grass as he stands. The last meters dying to collapse cease from existence; all before you even lift your head from your shoulder. Just as your eyes widen he’s against you gently. Sheer touch of his fingers across your lower face before he tilts. At last you touch and love-soul bitten sensations fill two hearts. 

You look at him again after the kiss; his face so beautiful you believe he could overthrow the world. 

© littleroaes, written and all

a/ n : i kind of broke my own heart by writing reader and juyeon just being friends 😭 it took all my will power

love spectrum spoiler

have flirty/ cute dynamic in the beginning but becomes friends : juyeon, changmin

romantic storylines but do not end up with : eric, hyunjae

end game : sunwoo

tagging : @darcymariebraun-blog @sungbeam @tbzhub @sanaxo-o

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (18) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you say the words coriolanus is so desperate to hear. 

word count: 1,785

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, skinny dipping, fluff, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Do you know how to swim?” Coryo asked, settling behind you, pressing a kiss to your neck as you rifled through the wardrobe to find something to wear for the day. Ordinarily, your lady’s maid was to help you pick out your outfits and help you into them, but you found that you liked including your husband—your husband—in the process instead. 

“Yes.”

You could feel the smile on Coryo’s lips as he kissed your neck again. “Good. There’s a lake on the property that I’d like to take you to. Swim, have a picnic—” he nips at your neck “—perhaps have a little more fun.”

A giggle escaped you. “That sounds lovely. But what would you have said if I didn’t?”

“Offer to let you cling to me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do that anyways.” You moved your head, exposing more of your neck to him. “But I didn’t have any swimming clothes packed.”

Your knees nearly buckled as Coryo sucked on a sensitive spot just below your ear. “That’s where the little more fun comes in, my pretty petal.”

“My, my, I didn’t know my husband was so insatiable.”

“How could I be satiated when you’re so addicting? For every piece of you, you offer, I find myself wanting more.” Coryo pulled away then reached around you, pulling a pale pink dress out. “Put this on while I ask the staff to prepare lunch for us.”

“Hurry back,” you said, turning around so you could face him, “I might surely die if I’m deprived of my husband.”

Coryo grinned. “Now who’s insatiable?”

You giggled, watching as Coryo leaned down for a kiss before disappearing out the door. Once he was gone, you began to dress for the day. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as you thought about your husband. Your husband. You never would have thought that the word would have you blushing like a schoolgirl—certainly not when that very husband was Coriolanus Snow. And yet, here you were, twirling around in a pretty pink dress, giggling at the thought of seeing Coryo in a compromising position while swimming. 

A grin stretched across your face as you heard the door opening, Coryo stepping inside. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically hear the pout on his face as he said, “Damn. I was hoping to catch you undressed.”

“Then we never would make it to the lake,” you said. 

“And, oh, what a shame would that be.”

You held your Coryo’s hand as you walked down the dirt path to the lake. Your dress dragged the ground, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pick up the skirts. If only your mother could see you now—she would surely have a heart attack if she knew you were about to be positively ravished anywhere but a bedroom. Stifling a giggle, you glanced at Coryo from the corner of your eye. He was already looking down at you, a soft smile on his plush lips. You moved up to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“How did you manage to convince the Peacekeepers to let us come alone?” you asked when you pulled away. 

You had been surprised when Coryo led you out of the cottage, holding onto you with one hand, a picnic basket in the other. No one followed after the two of you like they normally did. When you had sent Coryo a questioning look, he kissed your temple and ushered you along. 

“I told them I would sooner carve out their eyes than allow them to see me fuck their Queen.”

“Coryo!” you chastised, hand smacking his chest. “You can’t say things like that!”

“And why not?” His smile turned into a smirk as he bumped his hip against yours. “Everyone knows what happens during the honeymoon period. Is it a crime to say it aloud?”

You leaned your head against his arm. “I just don’t want anyone but you to think of me like that.”

“Oh, petal,” Coryo cooed. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t say things like that again. Being with you robs me of any sense of propriety. All I want is for people to know that I’m the lucky man who gets to warm your bed, who makes you smile and laugh, who is fortunate enough to be called your husband.”

Laughing, you said, “You can wax poetic to whoever you want. Just leave our more intimate moments between us.”

“Deal.”

The lake soon came into view. It was beautiful. Something straight out of a fairytale. The water sparkled under the sun’s rays. And the water—oh, it was so blue. You would almost think it was artificial if it didn’t look like it had been untouched by humans for decades. As you neared the lake, Coryo dropped the picnic basket to the ground and led you out onto the dock. 

A giggle escaped you as he quickly removed his clothes before reaching for you, undoing the ties on your dress. As it slipped off your shoulders, down your hips, a growl rumbled from Coryo’s chest. “You wore nothing else?”

“What? I can’t seduce my husband on our honeymoon?”

His hands came to rest on your hips, tugging you against him. You giggled again and placed your hands on his chest. “Say thank you for me not allowing the Peacekeepers to come.”

You stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed him. When you pulled away, you whispered on his lips, “Thank you, Coryo.”

“Now, for your punishment—”

“Wait, what—”

Coryo picked you up as if you were a doll, took you to the edge of the dock, and tossed you into the lake. You screamed as you hit the water. Another splash quickly followed. Coryo emerged beside you. His eyes crinkled at the corners. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other tangling itself in your hair. He pulled you in for a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned and moved your legs to wrap around his hips. His hand on your waist fell to your hip to help support you. 

“Fuck, petal—” he groaned. 

“Would you?”

And, oh, he would. 

Coryo reached into the picnic basket, pulling out a container of strawberries. He took care with selecting one before placing it at your lips, looking down at you as you took a bite. Your back was pressed against his chest, still bare after the swim, and hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste. Tilting your head up, you watched as he finished off the strawberry. You turned slightly and leaned up to steal a kiss. 

“Little minx,” he chastised. He, nevertheless, was quick to chase after you for another kiss. 

“How am I the minx when you’re the one who suggested this entire little escapade?”

“Because you went along with it, little petal,” Coryo said. 

You laughed and shook your head at him. Of course that would be his logic. Never mind that this was his entire grand plan, that you only went along for the ride. But, if that was going to be his argument, you supposed you should give him something to support the rhetoric. You turned around to face him, settling on your knees. You bit down on your lip as Coryo’s eyes drifted down to your bare chest. “I do believe you promised me more fun, did you not?” you asked, grabbing his hands and pulling them to your waist. 

“I did.”

“And what kind of husband would you be to break such promises?”

“A horrible one,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him. You swung a leg over either side of his lap, your hips settling against his. He hardened against your thigh. “You should send me straight to the gallows if I ever dared to deny you.”

“Let’s not let it come to that.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed. He reached between the two of you, guiding his cock through your slick folds. Your head fell against his. A gasp escaped you as you sunk down on him. You had only taken him in this position a few times before—it still took you by surprise, how much bigger he felt like this. Your nails dug into his shoulder as Coryo groaned out, “Fuck, petal, keep squeezing me like that and I’ll serve you Panem on a silver platter.”

You kissed him, desperate for more of him. “You’ve already given me everything I could ever want.”

Coryo’s fingers dug into your hips as he guided you up and down his length. You were grateful for it, your legs already trembling from the mounting pleasure. Sensing your exhaustion, Coryo pulled you against his chest, cradling you as he rolled you onto your back. Your back arched off the picnic blanket. Oh, how was this so much more pleasurable now? 

“Coryo—” you gasped. 

A hand fell between your legs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hand caught his wrist, holding him there as he thrust into you. The coil deep in your belly began to tighten, so close to snapping. 

“Go ahead, my petal, come for your King,” he cooed. He draped his body against you, his nose nudging against yours. “Come for your husband. Come for your Coryo.”

You screamed as the coil finally snapped. Coryo pulled his hand out from between your legs, cupped your face, and pulled you into a searing kiss. His hips continued to rut into you as he chased his high. It was one of the few moments where you got to see your husband truly desperate, and all of it for you. His hips stuttered as he finally toppled over the edge, still fucking his spend into you. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“And I love you.”

You felt him smile. But then he pulled away, his brows pinched together. Coryo brushed some stray strands of hair from your face, his pale blue eyes searching yours. Looking for any doubts, any hints of insincerity. You just smiled up at him, and said those words again. “You mean it?” he asked. 

“More than anything.”

A smile broke out, his white teeth twinkling. “Say it again.”

You only laughed. “Give me a reason to,” you challenged.

He did. He gave you many, many reasons. And when the two of you eventually made it back to the cottage, a right mess compared to the regal King and Queen you would have to act like in front of the Capitol, you showed him just how much you loved him in return. 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 47

part 1 | part 46 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking; fatal levels of fluffy idiocy

They make their way over to the kitchen, where Eddie snags them two cans of beer off the counter — warm, but unopened, which is really as much as you can hope for at a house party by this time of night.

Steve doesn't mind, anyway. Doesn't want Eddie's hands to be cold.

"You think you're good to step outside for a few minutes?" he asks, tugging at the hem of Eddie's leather jacket. The black hoodie he has layered underneath. They're not nearly thick enough for an extended stroll through the two-inch blanket of snow outside, but he's hoping it'll do for just a few minutes.

Eddie cracks his beer with a grin. "Why? You wanna have a snowball fight?"

"Something like that."

Eddie follows him out back, down the slope of the lawn toward the property's edge. Away from the rest of the party until theirs are the only footprints in the powdery sheet of fresh snow.

It's bright out tonight. Moonlight bounces so fully off the white canvas that Steve doesn't even need to use a flashlight, and Eddie's pale skin shines; dazzles in the moonglow, all shimmer and sparkle and so utterly alive, his limbs in constant motion to keep the cold out of his bones. He's taking these big exaggerated hop-steps, shaking the snow from his shoes with each lift, compressing the fluff beneath his feet with each heavy stomp down so it doesn't creep into the eyelets of his boots and wet his socks.

Steve's gonna thrift him a new jacket. A big, puffy one, he decides. New boots, too, next chance he gets; gonna wrap him up in a big knitted scarf and crocheted mittens and a hat with a silly little pompom on top. He'd look cute like that, all bundled up. Warm and safe.

"What are you smiling so big for?"

"No reason," Steve smiles wider with a shrug. He doesn't bother trying to explain himself, 'cause he never sounds half as eloquent out loud as he thinks he does in his head; shit gets all jumbled up on the way out of his mouth, but he just thinks, "You look cute."

Eddie stops short. "Excuse you!" he squawks, one foot still hovering in the air. Arms out wide to keep his balance on one leg. "I am not cute."

"Uh huh," Steve licks his lip. Your eyes are bigger than the moon and your cheeks get all pink when you're offended, but sure. You're not cute. "Whatever you say."

"That's right," Eddie insists. He sticks his nose up in the air with a little hmph! noise. "I'm mean and big and scary, and you like doing what I say."

"Also true," Steve agrees.

Eddie's face comes back down, expression softening into something sickeningly sweet; desperately so, almost unbearable to look at.

Steve's heart squeezes hard enough in his chest to bruise his lungs.

"Where are you taking us, anyway?"

"Not much further," Steve says. The party’s on a cul-de-sac that backs up to Maple, to Tommy’s old street — weird, considering how much newer and nicer this neighborhood is compared to Tommy's, but that's how all of Hawkins is. The zones stacked on top of each other, new money swooping in and taking over them like kudzu.

In between the neighborhoods there’s a stretch of untouched woods: old trees and tall grass, brambles and dark mulch and the remains of reedy stalks, and through the center of it all runs a massive, winding storm drain. Like the bones of a concrete snake, blanketed by moss and leaves and snow.

Steve and Tommy used to play here. Used to perch where the drain pipe let out to a shallow open groove; dangle their legs over the edge and pretend they were sitting on a lake dock instead of sweating their asses off in the woods beyond Tommy’s yard.

“This one year,” Steve says as he leads Eddie toward the spot, pausing to hold a branch back so it doesn't pop them in the face. “There was this, like- this crazy flood, and the water got so high that we could almost splash our feet in it from the top of the pipe.”

He points out the drain in question. It’s smaller than he remembers; comes up to maybe shoulder height, but it used to be huge. Used to be that he could stand up in the opening and spread his arms out wide and only just scrape the tips of his fingers against the gritty walls.

Now it looks like he’d tweak his back trying to hunch over to crawl in. Guess he was a lot smaller than he remembers then, too.

"Okay..." Eddie says as he takes wide steps toward it, eyeing the curve of snowy concrete. "I can't tell if this is secluded in a romantic way, or if this is just some creepy Stephen King shit."

Before Steve can so much as roll his eyes, Eddie gasps and spins on his heel; snow spraying under his feet, eyes impossibly wide. "Oh, my fucking god," he breathes.

It puts Steve on high alert. "What is it?" he asks as he steps in close; gets Eddie by the elbows, backs him up against the side of the pipe and uses himself as a shield so he can look over his shoulder and scan the undergrowth. Is there an animal out here? Something worse? Did Eddie see something? "What-?"

When he turns back around, Eddie's clamping his lips shut so tight it looks like it hurts. "I just realized..."

His nostrils flare as a snort escapes him.

Oh, goddammit. Steve thought it was something serious! He slouches in relief, letting his hands slip around Eddie's waist; underneath his jacket, to the dip at the small of his back. "Yes?" he sighs, prompting Eddie to spill whatever's got him trying so hard not to laugh.

"Your- your name is Stephen."

Uh. "Yeah?" What the hell...? "I mean, it's Steven with a V, but- yeah?"

Another giggle breaks free. "And- and you're The King."

"...Oh, my god."

He's so stupid. He is so fucking stupid. Eddie's snickering so hard it's making his nose wrinkle up, his whole face flushed a brilliant pink, and there are fireworks going off in the neighborhoods all around them; Steve can hear the countdowns starting, the muted chorus over the hills, people shouting 'ten! nine! eight!' and Eddie's so fucking tickled he can barely get his words out.

"Baby," he gasps as the crowds chant four! and three! "You're Stephen King."

Two!

Steve has to kiss him.

One!

Has to kiss him and never stop.

"You're an idiot, Eddie Munson," he smiles against laughing lips, and their tongues meet in the middle as they ring the new year in.

—

part 48

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[koji-haru]

Freckles

[Sorry it took so long, but here's the first part of your request @inubaki! I hope you don't mind that I mixed the two into one 🙇‍♀️

Think of this as an extra scene for the Time Travel AU]

It was yet another perfect day in the idyllic garden of Eden. It was just as perfect as Adam had remembered it more than 10,000 years ago. Warm sunny rays that gently kissed his skin, baby blue skies that livened up the atmosphere, a refreshing breeze that sang serenity throughout his entire being. Everything was just as he had always wanted back then, except with a new addition. An angel friend. No, not Lucifer, but his much more tolerable brother, Michael. 

Today, the two were sitting on top of a gentle hill, taking shade from the midday’s rays under the canopy of a large beech tree, its broad foliage a beautiful purple-copper shade. Michael had brought some materials for bringing images to life; canvases, papers, pencils and paint. It was after he had caught sight of Adam creating a sketch of a gigantic moose using charcoal and a thin piece of a tree’s bark. Apparently, Adam had some sort of talent for it, and wanting to hone, Michael had brought down materials for Adam to try.

So now, here he was, sitting across Michael, trying to capture the angel’s very image onto paper. Michael himself seemed to be rather busy gliding his paintbrush across the canvas; a harmony of blues, green, yellows and whites with a dash of purples and pinks, the image of a distant lake was slowly, but meticulously being immortalised onto the canvas. 

As opposed to Michael’s vibrant depiction of Eden, Adam himself had resorted to using coal, slowly etching the heavenly being’s likeness onto a simple piece of paper. Adam’s hand moved slowly and carefully as he gently curved the coal on the paper, using his thumb to shade and fade it out a little, as he tried to draw the angel’s wavy locks; trying to capture the way it shined under the sun, how gently it flowed, and the softness of its texture. Then, he shifted his focus on Michael’s face. The eternal youthfulness of his face, his cool blue eyes that currently held a certain kind of softness to it, and then small little stars that surrounded them. Huh. Adam never really paid much attention to Michael before, but now that he was really looking at him, those little stars actually looked a little like freckles on his face. It looked quite nice, really.

“Hey, Michael,” Adam suddenly called out. “Are those freckles?,” he asked, pointing to his face. 

Michael put down his brush and palette as he turned to Adam, distracted from his painting. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“The little sparkles under and around your eyes,” Adam clarified, putting down his coal and paper as he leaned forward to press a finger across Michael’s cheeks. “Oh, they even shine a bit!,” Adam added, surprised, as he then fully grabbed the angel’s face and brushed some of his hair behind his ear, running a thumb across the sparkly stars across Michael’s face. 

Michael could feel his face heating up, a yellow flush gradually blossoming on his pale face as his calm heart began to drum loudly within his chest. What was Adam doing? Why was he suddenly so close to him holding his face like that? If he didn’t know any better, it was almost like…

“Pfft!,” Adam laughed. “What’s with that look? I won’t bite you. I’m just taking a more thorough look at your face,” he clarified, grabbing the paper off the grass and showing it to Michael.

It was a surprisingly detailed image of the angel. Capturing details about him from the most obvious to the most fine details. It was almost like looking in a mirror. He had noticed then that it was unfinished, a start of a scribble present on his image’s face, just under the eyes. 

“Oh,” Michael muttered, mainly to himself. He couldn’t help but keep staring at his portrait, the care and detail poured into it. The warmth from earlier came back, filling his heart, but this time more gently, like colourful butterflies playing in the meadow. It spilt from within him and out onto his face in the form of a soft smile, glistening eyes and a tinge of yellow spreading across his cheeks. 

“Hellooo?” Adam waved a hand in front of his face.

“They’re not freckles,” he finally said after a moment. “They’re markings on my face, similar to how Lucifer has his red cheeks.”

Adam leaned closer forward again, invading the flustered angel’s space. “Oh, so they are little gold stars,” he remarked. “They’re quite pretty huh,” he muttered, though Michael heard it, as he leaned back again and returned his focus back on his unfinished drawing. “Kinda like faintly glowing stars at dusk, hmm…,” he muttered some more as he scratched his head trying to plan how to depict that onto paper.

“I wonder if those are the only markings he has. His robes are pretty loose fitting…,” Adam murmured, letting his thoughts unintentionally flow out.

“T-those are my only markings..!,” Michael clarified as he pulled the collar of his robe higher up to hide his flustered face, suddenly feeling very exposed under Adam’s scrutinising gaze. Ironic, considering he wasn’t the naked one.

“Hmm, but you know I can’t really continue drawing you if you hide your face like that,” Adam commented nonchalantly. 

That…was a fair point. And so, while he didn’t really want to, Michael pulled his robe back down and away from his face. “Better?”

“Better, thanks!”

After a while, Michael’s nerves finally returned to their prior calm state as his focus returned to his unfinished painting. His skillful hands brought the sun’s shine onto the painted lake’s surface, glistening like a million jewels strewn all over the body of water, almost ringing like thousands of little bells. The colours evoked a sense of calm and peace that only Eden could ever have, a gentle lullaby and a sweet goodnight kiss. 

Minutes passed like this, with just the whispers of the leaves in the wind and the occasional singing of the birds between the two. Both absorbed by the image they were trying to immortalise. 

Finally, Adam sat straighter up, holding his paper up and a proud look adorning his face. “Done!”

“Oh, may I see it?,” Michael asked, curious at what the final product looked like, especially if it already looked amazing when it was unfinished.

“Here.” Adam handed the drawing to Michael, chest puffed out, hands on his waist and a very proud look on his face. 

If the portrait before amazed him, then this final product took Michael’s breath away. Somehow, Adam had not only captured his very image, but also heightened it. Just the picture itself emitted such ethereal aura that Michael himself wasn’t sure any angel in Heaven had. The feelings it evoked within him was…indescribable. Like something more than the perfection of either Heaven or Eden. Every line and detail, every shadow and shading, all were created and etched onto the paper with such fine delicacy.

“Oh, this is…just breathtaking,” Michael whispered. 

“I know, I know,” Adam grinned even wider, happy to have his ego stroked. 

He even put so much detail on my markings. Michael’s fingers ghosted over the markings on his portrait's face. He had never seen it depicted so beautifully before…

Adam glanced back over at Michael, eyeing the markings on his face. While he didn’t particularly pay too close of an attention to others appearances, he was pretty sure that not all angels, even Heavenborn ones, had some sort of face markings. 

“Maybe it’s a genetic thing…,” he mumbled. 

“Hm?” Michael turned to Adam, putting the portrait down.

 “I wonder if your kids would have the same marks under their eyes,” Adam asked. It would make sense, Lucifer’s brat, Charlie was it?, also had the same red cheeks as her father did. Honestly, Charlie was almost a carbon copy of Lucifer, barely any Lilith in her, well, except for the height obviously. 

Kids? Michael with kids?? Adam’s words put a certain image in Michael’s head. If, somehow, he had kids, what would they look like? Michael imagined them to, yes, have the same markings as he did, a skin as pale as his, oh, or maybe the other would have lovely sun kissed skin. They could have his light golden hair, maybe darker, teetering between brown and gold, and then maybe they could have the same eyes as him, but a lovely gold would also be nice.

…

Oh. 

Michael quickly looked away from Adam. He could feel that certain kind of warmth returning to his skin, dyeing his cheeks as golden as the Eden’s sun, though it definitely wasn’t because of the midday heat.

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 9!!

July 9th <3

Resume - @jegulus-microfic - words: 511

First part Previous part

Regulus stared blankly at the book on his lap, brushing his fingers over the hem of his sleeve, deep in thought.

He read over the words, and all he could think was, this character reminds him so much of James.

He was bubbly, happy, cute, had a golden retriever personality and was a literal ball of sunshine. The thought made him lift his head up, finding James talking to June, the young person he’d helped out the other day.

After a few moments, James looked up, locking eyes with him and instantly smiling, Regulus nodded in return.

Honestly, he thought that was it, but James now decided to walk over to him, so he clumsily picked up his book and casually tried to act like he hadn’t been staring too much. That probably didn’t seem very convincing, but a man can try.

“Reggie!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?”

“But you fell asleep on my shoulder,” James started, no doubt noticing the tomato colour of the pale boys cheeks. “I should be able to call you Reggie, Reggie.” He teased.

Picking up his book, he closed it, looked James in his pretty doe eyes and whacked him on the shoulder with the hard back book. The other boy let out a yelp, rubbing his shoulder and looking at Regulus in amusement.

“What is with you and hitting me?” He paused for a moment, then a mischievous smile appeared on his lips, oh that’s not good. “Some might say you’re… hitting on me.” He winked.

“I swear to fucking god Potter.” Regulus dropped his head into the table, hiding the letting himself smile into the wood as he felt pink flush prick the tips of his ear.

The other boy cackled, reaching a hand out and ruffling Regulus’ hair.

Regulus could feel his warm fingertips on his scalp, the way his hand seemed to fit perfectly there and the way his hand lingered next to Regulus’ face for a second too long when he picked his head up.

“I will hit you into that lake.” Regulus pointed over James’ shoulder, face like thunder and an eyebrow raise.

James, like the idiot he is, took his hand and pinched Regulus’ cheek and smiled at him. “Adorable.” He patted his cheek and smiled.

“Don’t even-“ He growled, resisting the urge to spit an insult at his stupid, annoying, beautiful face. He picked his book back up and pretended to resume reading it as he attempted to ignore the boy next to him, that second one proving to be slightly more difficult than it should be.

A few minutes later, Regulus noticed James still sitting there. Actually, he was aware of the presence a tad bit too close next to him for the past minute of two, he could still feel hazel eyes glazing their soft gaze into the side of his face.

“What’s your book about?” James asked out of the blue.

“People.” Regulus replied dully.

“Really?” The brunette replied sarcastically, Regulus looking up at him and tilting his head. “Is it also supposed to be read upside down? I’ve never seen that before.” He tutted.

Fuck.

Next part

[deadghosy]

˚₊‧꒰ა 🎀 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐀|| 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Synopsis: drinking a pink colada, he starts to think he is too drunk to even realize that a real mermaid is in a lake of a friend of his.

Prompt: “you’re so beautiful like a siren..” “I’m actually a mermaid.”

A/N: modern au, it’s also summer time when this takes place lol. Also this isn’t proofread so sorry if there’s an English mistake

Even after graduating, Lorenzo he hadn’t dated anyone after. He tried so many things, dating advice, dating games with random people at parties, clubbing, bars, hell…even dating apps which he never thought he would do ever. Getting recently turned down by a woman at a party his friends invited to teared his ego into millions of pieces like paper to a shredder.

So what did he do? He started to drink pink coladas left and right. That’s right, he was trying to drink his feelings away which kinda worked but really didn’t.

Exiting out of the condo, drinking the last of his pink colada and groaning. He stumbled a bit as he walks to the deck towards the lake. He sighed as he slumped down, maybe slumped a little too hard as he hisses and rubbed his ass. Taking off his shoes, dipping his feet in the cold water as he closes his eyes.

Maybe he is a loser for trying to talk to a new girl. Maybe he is a loser for being so desperate for a date. Or even a sex buddy. He shivered at the thought of a sex buddy. He may had understood it for mattheo to do all that shit. But him, he started to realize that maybe he wasn’t cut out for dating again. Maybe he will die alone.

As Enzo opened his eyes, he started to hear splashes and felt water move around his ankles. Looking down, he sees eyes which makes him scream, which makes the person come out of the water screaming as well. It turns into a screaming battle before the so called person, flicks their tail and hits Lorenzo in his face. “What the?!—” “who are you!?” Lorenzo rubbed his sore cheek. “Who am I?? Who?!— no. Not even who. What are you?!” He immediately looked around. “How are you even here???” He questioned.

“I live here!” You say with a pout. Lorenzo scrunched his face hearing that. “In..in the water?” You nodded quickly. “Yes! I’m a mermaid!” You then started to show your tail towards the human man whose eyes widen. Lorenzo started to look at you, well mostly your tail which shocked him most. But your beauty stricken him the most. At first he thought he was hallucinating, but after getting slapped with your tail. He started to realize you really at real.

“You’re so beautiful like a siren…” he says, his eyes locked onto your face. You tilted your head in confusion, swimming towards him in the lake. “I’m actually a mermaid?”

Lorenzo chuckled at your naivety, “yes you are.” He started to push your wet hair from your face. “It’s a metaphor, I’m saying your beauty is like one of a siren.” You smiled starting to understand it. “Oh! That makes sense! You’re cute as a crab.”

Now Lorenzo let out a laugh at your comparison. “A crab is cute?” “Are they not?” You answer quickly, your mermaid tail flickering the water as your arms were on his lap as leverage.

You and Lorenzo talked for an entire 2 hours. You both felt very connected to each other as Lorenzo plays with your hands. You held a hand and dove under water. Lorenzo waited patiently before you came back up to show him a pearl you had stored.

“Here! It’s for you…” you said with a gummy smile. Enzo felt his heart thump at your affectionate action. Taking the pearl out of your wet hand, he stuff it in his pocket for safe keeping.

“Thanks.” Smiling back at you as you turned to the sunset. “I have to go now…” you both frown as you start to leave his presence. “W-wait!” You paused, almost going under water but turning around towards the brown haired male. “What’s your name…so I won’t forget you.” Smiling you answered him. “I’m Y/N.” You said finally, ducking under water and leaving him in the open breeze. Lorenzo smiles at the spot you were and walked back to the party which was starting to end. “Y/N..” he thought as he pulls the pearl from his pocket. He’s definitely drinking more pink coladas so he can see you more.