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onlyforyoukook · 25 days ago

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Let’s make a movie | JJK

paring: jungkook x fem¡reader

synopsis: you suggested the idea, to make a sex tape with jungkook.

genre: one shot„smut„non idol au

wc 4.4k

their playlist 🙃: dollhouse - the weeknd & lily rose depp, for me? - asal, nice & slow - usher, anytime, anyplace - janet jackson, pony - ginuwine, earned it - the weeknd, or nah - the weeknd, skin - rihanna, when we - tank

WARNINGS: MDNI. filming, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, pet names, aftercare.

You're sitting in your living room, snuggled up on the couch with Jungkook, watching TV. The credits of a movie roll on the screen, and you turn to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Hey, Kookie,” you say, a playful tone in your voice. “I have an idea.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Oh yeah?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. “And what idea might that be?”

You lean in closer to him, a sly smile on your lips.

“Let's make a sex tape” you whisper in his ear, your voice low and seductive.

Jungkook's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, clearly not expecting that.

“A sex tape?” he repeats, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Are you serious?”

You nod, your smile turning even more mischievous.

“Yeah, why not?” you say, your voice low. “It could be fun, and we could keep it just for us.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, considering your suggestion. He looks at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

“I don't know, babe,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Isn't that kind of risky? What if someone else sees it?”

You chuckle softly at Jungkook's concern, finding his protectiveness endearing.

“Babe, relax” you say, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Nobody will see it unless one of us decides to show it to someone, and it'll be on a camera, so it's not like it's just going to be floating around out there.”

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, considering your words. He knows you have a point, and he can't deny the idea is kind of exciting.

“Okay, fair enough” he says, his expression softening. “But we have to be careful with it, alright? No one else can see it, and we need to keep it hidden somewhere safe.”

You get up from the couch and head to the bedroom, where you have a camera stashed away in a drawer. You grab it and return to the living room, where Jungkook is waiting for you.

“Ready?” you ask, holding up the camera with a playful grin.

"Definitely ready," he says, his voice low and husky.

Jungkook grins back at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation. He gets up from the couch and follows you to the bedroom, his steps a little more eager than usual.

Once you're both in the bedroom, you set the camera up on a tripod facing the bed. You adjust the angle and make sure it's capturing the entire bed and everything that will happen on it. Jungkook watches you intently, leaning against the wall and watching as you fiddle with the camera settings. He can feel his excitement building, his heart rate increasing with each passing second.

Once you're satisfied with the camera setup, you turn to Jungkook with a sultry smile. He pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, his eyes fixed on yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. He looks down at you, his expression full of desire and anticipation.

“So, where do we start?” he asks, his voice low and husky in your ear.

You run your hands up Jungkook's chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. You look up at him, your eyes locked on his.

“Right here” you whisper, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Let's get these clothes off.”

Jungkook grins at your suggestion, his hands already moving to remove his shirt. He pulls it off in one swift motion, revealing his toned abs and muscular arms. He stands there in front of you, shirtless and radiating confidence. He runs a hand through his messy hair, his eyes roaming over your body.

Jungkook steps closer to you, his body mere inches from yours. He reaches out and grabs your hips, pulling you against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. You shiver slightly at his words, your body responding to his touch and proximity. You look up at him, your eyes filled with desire and need.

“I think I have an idea” you reply, your voice a bit shaky. “Because I want you just as badly”

Without hesitation, Jungkook closes the remaining distance between you and captures your lips in a heated kiss. His lips are soft yet demanding, and he wastes no time deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, exploring and claiming you as his own. He pulls you even closer, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he devours your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your jawline and neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin.

Jungkook lifts you up with ease, his strong arms effortlessly supporting your weight. He carries you over to the bed, his lips never leaving your skin. He gently sets you down on the edge of the bed, his hands already moving to remove your shirt. He pulls it over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your bare torso, his eyes dark with desire. He reaches for the waistband of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your panties.

Once your pants are off, Jungkook kneels down in front of you. He runs his hands up your thighs, his touch gentle. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire as he leans in and begins to trail kisses down your body. He starts at your stomach, his lips moving slowly and deliberately over your skin. He presses kisses along your hips, nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh as he works his way lower.

Jungkook reaches your panties, and he gently slides them to the side, exposing your most intimate parts. He looks up at you one more time, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your legs. He leans in, his warm breath hitting your skin as he moves closer to your center. He gives your inner thighs a few gentle kisses before focusing his attention on your clit. He licks a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, tasting you and savoring the moment.

Jungkook moans against you as he continues to lick and tease your clit, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive bud. He looks up at you again, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks between kisses.

“You taste so good, baby” he says, his voice low and hoarse.

Jungkook moves his hands to grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck on your clit in earnest. He uses his tongue and lips to drive you wild, determined to make you feel as good as possible. He alternates between slow, firm strokes and rapid, flicking motions, always keeping a watchful eye on your reactions to gauge what you like the most.

You can't help but moan and arch your back at the feeling of Jungkook's tongue on you. The sight of him between your legs, looking up at you with such desire and determination, is almost too much to bear. You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto as he works his magic on you.

“Oh god, Jungkook” you gasp, your voice shaky and filled with pleasure. “That feels so good”

Jungkook picks up the pace, knowing that you're getting close. He focuses his attention solely on your clit, his tongue moving in tight, circular motions. He uses his lips and suction to add to the sensation, creating a delicious friction that has you writhing beneath him. He looks up at you again, his eyes dark with lust as he notices the signs of your impending orgasm. He keeps going, not letting up for a second, wanting to make sure you cum hard and long on his tongue.

You can feel your orgasm building, the heat and tension coiling tighter and tighter in your lower belly. Jungkook's relentless attention to your clit is driving you wild, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release.

You tug on his hair harder, unable to form words as you moan and whimper under his ministrations. Your body is tense, every muscle straining as you approach your climax.

With one final flick of his tongue against your clit, you're sent hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, washing over you in waves of intense pleasure. You arch your back and cry out, your fingers clenching tightly in Jungkook's hair as your body spasms and shudders with release. He keeps his mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your juices as you cum hard on his tongue. You lay there, panting and gasping for breath as you come down from your high. Your body is still tingling from the intense orgasm, and you can feel the sweat cooling on your skin.

Jungkook lifts his head, looking up at you with a satisfied smirk. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. As you start to catch your breath, you suddenly remember the camera. You glance over at it, still perched on the tripod, and an idea forms in your mind.

You slowly sit up, still a bit shaky from your orgasm. You look down at Jungkook, who is still kneeling between your legs, and smile.

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit hoarse. “Get up for a sec.”

Jungkook looks up at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. He raises an eyebrow, but does as you ask and gets up from the floor.

“What's up?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

You stand up as well, and you take a step towards the camera. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you walk, his gaze following your every move. You pick up the camera from the tripod, adjusting the focus and making sure it's still recording.

You turn to face Jungkook, camera in hand. He's standing there, watching you with a mixture of anticipation and desire. You hold the camera out to him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Here” you say, gesturing for him to take the camera. “You get to be the director for this part.”

Jungkook grins and takes the camera from you, adjusting it in his hands as he prepares to record. He looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body as you crawl towards him on the bed.

You make your way up the bed, stopping when you're kneeling between Jungkook's legs. You reach out and hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down over his hips. Jungkook lets out a low groan as his cock springs free, finally released from the confines of his underwear. He adjusts the camera, making sure to get a good angle as you settle between his legs.

You settle yourself between Jungkook's legs, your eyes locked on his hard cock. It's long and thick, already hard and throbbing for you. You reach out and wrap your hand around the base, giving it a gentle squeeze. You look up at Jungkook through your lashes, a small smile on your face as you start to tease him. Jungkook's breath hitches as you begin to tease him, his eyes darkening with desire. He holds the camera steady, focusing it on your face and your hand wrapped around his cock.

He lets out a low, strained groan as you give him a few slow, deliberate strokes, your fingers trailing up and down his length. You look up at Jungkook again, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Without warning, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Jungkook lets out a low moan, his grip on the camera tightening as he watches you take him into your mouth. He adjusts the angle of the camera slightly, making sure to get a good view of your lips wrapped around his cock.

You slowly begin to bob your head up and down, taking more and more of his cock into your mouth with each movement. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as pleasure washes over his features. Jungkook lets out a string of curses, his breathing ragged and uneven as he struggles to keep the camera steady. He looks like he's struggling to hold on, his entire body tense with arousal. Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you suck him off. He lets out a shaky breath, his voice low and rough.

“Fuck, baby” he groans. “Your mouth feels so good.”

You continue to work his cock with your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the tip and apply just the right amount of suction. You can feel him getting closer and closer to the edge, his breathing becoming more and more erratic. Jungkook's free hand tangles in your hair, his fingers gripping tightly as he tries to hold on. He looks like he's struggling to keep control, his body tense and his jaw clenched tight.

Jungkook lets out another string of curses, his words coming out in a jumbled mess as he gets more and more worked up. He's practically panting now, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

“I'm not gonna last much longer” he grits out, his voice strained. “You're driving me crazy baby.”

You can tell that Jungkook is close to cumming. His body is taut, his muscles tense as he struggles to hold on just a little longer. You increase your efforts, bobbing your head faster and taking him deeper into your throat. Jungkook's grip on your hair tightens even more, his fingers pulling slightly as he tries to control the urge to thrust up into your mouth. He's panting heavily now, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Finally, with a strangled cry, he reaches his peak. He throws his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out a stream of hot cum into your mouth. You swallow his cum, taking everything he has to give. You continue to lick and suck at his sensitive cock, wanting to make sure you've milked every last drop out of him.

Once he's finished, you pull back and sit up. You look down at him, a satisfied smirk on your face as you admire the wrecked expression on his face. Jungkook is still catching his breath, his chest heaving as he tries to recover from his intense orgasm. He looks up at you with a dazed expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and awe.

You straddle Jungkook's hips, settling yourself on top of him. You can feel his cock twitching against your inner thigh, still slick with your saliva and his cum. Jungkook lets out a low groan as he feels your weight on top of him. He reaches out and grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to ground himself.

“You're going to be the death of me” he murmurs, his voice still shaky from his earlier orgasm. You smirk at him, clearly enjoying the effect you have on him. You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes to bring it back to full hardness.

Jungkook lets out a strangled moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he arches up into your touch. He's still sensitive from his orgasm, but his cock responds eagerly to your ministrations, hardening once again under your skilled hand.

You position yourself above Jungkook's cock, the tip brushing against your entrance. You can feel how wet you are, your own arousal having been heightened by pleasuring him. Jungkook's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he watches you prepare to take him in. He looks up at you with a mixture of anticipation and desperation, his eyes dark and hungry.

You slowly sink down onto Jungkook's cock, taking him inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside you. You let out a low moan as you adjust to his size, feeling the delicious stretch as your body stretches to accommodate him. Jungkook groans in response, his hands sliding up from your hips to your waist. He watches as you begin to ride him, his eyes glued to the place where your bodies are connected. He lifts one hand from your waist and grabs your breast, squeezing it firmly as he records you with his other hand.

Jungkook looks up at you, his eyes dark, as he watches you ride him. He squeezes your breast again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“You're taking me so good, baby” he groans, his voice low and rough. “You feel so tight and wet around me”

You lean forward slightly, giving Jungkook a better view of your body as you ride him. You let out a breathy moan as you grind your hips down against his, taking him even deeper inside you.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you reply, your voice low and sultry. “Your cock fills me up so perfectly, love having inside of me.”

As soon as the word “daddy” leaves your lips, Jungkook's grip on you tightens even more. His eyes flash with something primal, and he lets out a low growl in response. He suddenly sits up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. He buries his face in your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he inhales deeply.

“Say it again” he growls in your ear. “Call me daddy again baby.”

You let out a shaky breath as Jungkook's arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You can feel his chest pressed against yours, his heart beating rapidly against your skin. You tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You know what he wants to hear, and you're more than happy to oblige.

“Daddy” you repeat, your voice low and breathy. “My daddy.”

Jungkook lets out a growl as you call him “daddy” again. He moves his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He sucks hard, his teeth grazing against your skin as he marks you with a dark hickey. He pulls back slightly to admire his handiwork, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That's right” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Jungkook lays back down, holding the camera steady, recording as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock. He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you move on top of him. He adjusts the angle of the camera slightly, making sure to capture every moment. He wants to remember this, wants to be able to watch it back and relive it over and over again.

As you ride Jungkook, you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure is building inside you, each movement of your hips sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You start to move faster, chasing your high as you grind down on his cock. You can feel him getting close again too, his grip on you tightening as he tries to hold on.

Jungkook lets out a low moan as he feels his second orgasm approaching. He watches you, his eyes dark and intense, as you ride him with increasing urgency. Suddenly, he can't hold back any longer. He lets out a groan as he comes, his hips bucking up into you as he spills inside you. As soon as he finishes, he quickly turns you over onto your stomach. He pushes your hair out of the way and grabbing the camera, ready to record your next position.

Jungkook moves behind you, positioning himself between your legs. He grabs your hips and lifts them slightly, giving him a better angle to slide into you from behind.

He doesn't waste any time, immediately starting to thrust into you at a relentless pace. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, using the leverage to drive his cock even deeper inside you.

As Jungkook pounds into you from behind, he lets out a low growl and leans down to your ear.

“Who does this pussy belong to baby?” he demands, his voice rough and possessive. “Say it.”

You let out a gasp as Jungkook hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, and it takes you a moment to form a coherent response.

“It's yours daddy” you manage to say, your voice shaky. “My pussy belongs to you. It's all yours. All for you.”

Jungkook grins at your response, clearly pleased by your words. He releases your wrists and slides one hand down to your lower back, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“That's right baby," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You're my good girl. You know who you belong to, don't you?”

You nod, your head bobbing up and down as you try to focus on Jungkook's words. The feeling of him inside you, filling you up so completely, is making it hard to think straight.

“Yes daddy” you manage to gasp out. “I'm your good girl. I belong to you. Only you.”

Jungkook's grin widens at your repeated affirmation. He leans down again, his chest pressed against your back, and nuzzles his face into your hair.

“Good girl” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “You're so good for me.“

As Jungkook continues to pound into you from behind, he remembers the camera in his hand. He lifts it up and focuses the lens on where your bodies are connected, capturing the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy. He groans as he watches, completely captivated by the way your body takes him in. He leans back slightly, giving himself a better view.

“Fuck baby,” he mutters, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Your pussy is so beautiful. It looks so good taking my cock like this.”

Jungkook can't take his eyes off the camera screen, completely mesmerized by the sight of himself fucking you. He lets out a shaky breath as he continues to watch, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. He zooms in on your pussy, getting a close up shot of how your body stretches to accommodate his cock. He groans again, his voice thick with arousal.

“So tight...so wet...fuck...”

The sight of himself pounding into you on the camera screen is almost too much for Jungkook to handle. He can feel his third orgasm approaching rapidly, spurred on by the erotic sight of his cock disappearing into your tight, wet pussy. He groans again, his grip on the camera tightening as he struggles to keep himself together.

“Fuck, princess” he grits out. “I'm not gonna last much longer, you're driving me crazy.”

You hear Jungkook's words, and a smirk crosses your face as you realize how close he is to cumming. You clench your inner muscles around him, trying to push him over the edge.

“Cum for me, daddy” you gasp out, your voice laced with need. “I want to feel you cum inside me again.”

Jungkook lets out a strangled cry as he reaches his climax, his hips bucking wildly as he spills his hot cum deep inside you for the third time that night. At the same time, you feel your own orgasm wash over you, your body clenching and spasming around his cock as waves of pleasure course through you.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Jungkook slowly pulls out of you and sits up. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and adoration. He runs a hand through your hair, gently brushing it away from your face.

“Stay here baby” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'll be right back.”

He gets up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running as he starts running a bath for you both.

As Jungkook prepares the bath, you slowly sit up in bed and look around for the camera. You spot it lying on the bed beside you, and a mischievous grin spreads across your face. You pick up the camera and turn it towards yourself, zooming in on your face. You look thoroughly fucked, your hair a mess and your cheeks flushed from exertion. You turn the camera to capture the bed, focusing on the wet spots where you and Jungkook had been.

You pause for a moment, thinking about how far you and Jungkook have come in just a few hours. You never expected things to turn out this way, but you can't deny that it's been incredible. Jungkook walks back into the room, carrying a towel and a robe. He stops in his tracks when he sees you holding the camera, a smirk on your face. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused by your antics.

“Whatcha doing baby?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hold up the camera and give Jungkook a sly grin.

“I'm recording the aftermath” you say, your voice laced with amusement. “I figured it would make for some interesting memories later on.”

Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head, clearly amused by your unabashed behavior.

“You're something else, you know that?” he says, as he walks over to the bed and helps you up. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

He leads you into the bathroom, where a warm, inviting bath is waiting for you both. He helps you into the tub, making sure you're comfortable before sliding in behind you.

As you and Jungkook settle into the warm water of the bath, you let out a contented sigh. You lean back against his chest, feeling completely relaxed and spent. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he gently runs a washcloth over your body. He takes his time, being extra careful as he cleans you up. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Jungkook speaks up.

“I think that's the most fun I've ever had in my life,” he says, his voice filled with satisfaction. You chuckle softly and nod in agreement, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“I think you're right,” you say, a small smile on your face. “It was definitely an experience I won't forget anytime soon.”

MASTERLIST

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cosmicalily · 1 month ago

Text

"bob the builder" - a jeongin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: merry almost christmas from me and jingly jeongin

warnings: pregnancy and sex jokes (nobody actually gets nasty dw), playful fighting

“Momo isn’t even my sister,” Jeongin whined, staring at the pile of pink wooden pieces strewn in front of the two of you. “Why do I have to help?”

“Because you’re my boyfriend, and you decided to promise her this gift,” you replied with a menacing smile. “And I helped you with Yoon’s presents last year.” You leaned in close to him, eyes sparkling, faces almost touching, and heard his breathing quicken. Then, at the last minute, you dodged him and reached for the instruction manual sitting behind him.

“You’re cruel,” Jeongin groaned, flopping onto the floor with a soft thump. You kneed him lightly and pulled him upright, raising an eyebrow.

“And you’re useless. Can you screw these two pieces together while I hold them? We have to get this done this morning so I can put it under the Christmas tree for Momo.”

With a sigh, Jeongin reached forward with the screwdriver and began twisting the screw. The process continued, the large Barbie dreamhouse beginning to gradually take shape. Eventually, you decided you’d work on assembling the plastic furniture while Jeongin built, and leaned against his hunched back applying stickers and stuffing miniature pillowcases as he grumbled and cursed. You placated him from time to time with a kiss on the cheek, humming along to the Christmas pop playlist you’d put on in the background.

By the time you’d completed the full set of furniture, the house was structured and built almost perfectly, minus a few chips and scratches (potentially results of Jeongin’s building rage). “It looks perfect, baby, she’s gonna love it!” you beamed, starting to assemble the furniture in each room.

“No, that’s the bathroom, stupid,” Jeongin tsked, moving the kitchen furniture into a larger pink-tiled room.

“How would you know? They look the same,” you quipped, returning the mini kitchen bench to its original space.

“I built it.”

“I bought it.”

“I read the instructions.”

“I looked at the picture on the front.”

“And the picture on the front seems to show the tiled room on the left as the kitchen,” he smirked, moving the furniture back with a flick of his wrist. “You also have to kiss me now, considering the way you teased me before. That’s not very Christmas spirit of you.”

You giggled. “Maybe I was pulling a Wham.”

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,” Jeongin sang, screwing his face up dramatically. “But the very next day, my girlfriend made me assemble a Barbie house for her sister and decided she’s never gonna make out with me ever again because she hates me and only wants me for free labour.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, feigning annoyance, but threw yourself onto him anyway, pressing kisses all over his face until he squirmed underneath you, moving his hands to settle on your waist. Finally, you moved your lips to his, kissing him softly yet feverishly; letting his tongue slip into your mouth when you parted your lips to breathe.

“Y/N,” a girl’s voice came from outside your bedroom door. You froze and leapt off your boyfriend, panicking as the door handle twisted. Your sister’s dollhouse was huge, and very much on display behind a pink-cheeked Jeongin.

“MOMO, DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR YET,” you shouted, darting up and grabbing hold of the handle, gesturing for Jeongin to do something. He dragged the house into the bathroom attached to your bedroom, then shut the door securely behind it, wiping sweat off his forehead and offering you a thumbs up.

You exhaled in relief and let Momo in, her face puzzled. “What were you doing?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Studying.”

“Kissing.”

The two of you glared at each other.

“Were you…” Momo lowered her voice into a whisper and leaned in towards your ear. “Doing that thing where you kiss with no clothes on?”

Your face went bright pink and Jeongin snorted with laughter.

"No," you hissed, and Momo blinked at you innocently. "We were studying, like I said."

"But Innie said-"

"Innie is an idiot," you declared, glaring at your boyfriend who remained in a fit of laughter.

"That's not very nice," Momo said, eyes wide. "Don't hurt his feelings. Innie, if she's being mean, you should break up with her and be with me instead, okay?"

Jeongin nodded sincerely. "I sincerely promise if our marriage doesn't go to plan, you will be my backup, Momo." You sighed at him, but your heart fluttered a little at his reply. He was so sweet with Momo.

"You'd make a great dad," you blurted out, and Momo stared at you in shock.

"YOU'RE PREGNANT?" Jeongin and Momo screamed in unison, and you burst out laughing.

"So you WERE doing that thing," Momo stared at you and Jeongin in disgust. "Mum told me that's how babies get made."

"No, no, fuck, Momo, OUT! You too, Bob the Builder. Mama needs some alone time," you grumbled, pushing your boyfriend out of the door. He stuck his tongue out at you, scooped up your little sister and ran with her down the stairs, turning his head back just before he disappeared to give you a wink.

He didn't miss the way your eyes sparkled at him.

"Builder? What were you building?" Momo's voiced echoed from the hallway.

"Oh, um…”

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sanakimohara · 4 months ago

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Bangchan + Dollhouse by TheWeeknd and Lily-Rose Depp + Yandere 🤭🤭

Like imagine

You wake up in a random persons house, you've been stalked for months, that random person is your stalker. But you can't deny how hot he is. And for a while, he's gentle and makes you fall in love with him, until he introduces you to his friend, Changbin, who you can't deny is almost as hot as Chris, so you talk to him and basically ignore chris. Chris gets jealous and as soon as changbin leaves, he ‘punishes you’ with both rough sex and spanking (i have a spanking kink, spare me pls) and when he's done with everything and you're sleeping, he cries thinking he might of hurt you, you wake up a comfort him with another round. The relationship is messed up, but in front of everyone it's ‘Perfect’ and everyone calls you ‘Barbie and Ken’, but you're more ‘Jocelyn and Tedros’ (the idol ref). You sometimes feel trapped in a ‹Dollhouse› by how you have everything you want, but freedom and being able to talk to without chans supervision.

I know it's probably not your style of writing, but thought I'd request 🤭🤭

[ YOU ] PT.1 B. C.

parking: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KyevYvSoqYDrdBqeAvTZO?si=ZgCCA54dQ7ChyVR2Eg381g

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + DESCRIPTIONS OF BODILY HARM + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + SMUT

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror…

a/n: not my style?!? Love, this is exactly the type of stuff I enjoy writing the most tbh. Also your request definitely reminded me of “The Idol” and ‘You” so…I made this fic as an overlap between both and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

One…Two…Three….Four.

One…

Four walls. …

One door….

One. Two. Three. Four.

One….

Four walls and one door.

You’ve counted them over and over.

You sit in drowning silence, repeating the same numbers to resist the panic rising in your chest from their unfamiliarity.

You’ve never seen these four walls before.

You can’t even begin to remember walking through the door.

Let alone recall how you ended up tied to a bed’s iron-wrought headboard with tape plastered across your mouth to keep a wad of cloth shoved between your lips.

So, you resort to counting.

To repeat the pattern of numbers and halt the tears building in your eyes as the world seems smaller and smaller the longer you count them.

It’s strange.

These four walls and one door are your only comfort in the quiet of a dimly lit room.

It’s the only details you can make out through blurred vision, head fogging with illicit fear as you study them for any clue as to why you’ve been chosen to be within them.

It’s irrational.

Illogical.

But it’s the only thing you can think of to do being in a strange room, restrained and gagged without a clue as to who or why you’ve been put there.

You try to remember. Try to run through the possible events in the last twenty-four hours that’d put you in such an uncanny predicament, but nothing alarming crosses your mind.

There is nothing you can pinpoint as a warning sign you could’ve seen before ending up here.

You woke up, dressed, went to work at the record store until evening, closed the shop, grabbed a bite to eat at the cafe down the street, and then…

And then what?…

You couldn’t get past the point in your train of thought.

You remember the moment you stepped out of the cafe's side entry door and into the small alleyway leading straight to your apartment with a strawberry strudel and cold cream latte in one hand and your phone in the other.

You took one step, turning in the opposite direction of the cafe, finger hovering above the “answer’ button as an unknown caller ID flashed across your phone screen. You meant to answer it, wondering if it was the man who’d come into the record shop looking for a Nirvana vinyl and a pleasant conversation.

What was his name again?

Chan?…

Christopher…?

Wait, no…

Chris!

He’d been the kindest and most invested customer you’d ever met since working in the retrofitted store, insisting that you exchange numbers and plan a time to hang out, listen to records, and maybe discuss opinions on certain bands over a bite-to-eat later on.

You found no harm in taking him up on the innocent offer. Giving a good-looking, genuinely sweet, and apparent music lover your number didn’t seem like a bad idea.

You could barely hold the smile creeping onto your face at the thought of getting a call from him so soon, imagining the drawl of his Australian accent carrying through the phone like pure honey.

You hit ‘answer,’ phone raised to your ear as you began to walk down the brick alley, but the moment your lips parted to speak, a particular smell invaded your nose, and the world went black.

No warning.

No indication.

No recollection.

There was nothing you could grasp from the startling incident that gave a clue as to what happened and why.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your head began to hurt from the effort it took to sift through the distorted memory.

A solemn huff struggled to get past your lips, muffled by cloth and tape but audible enough to crack the silence in the room.

Your hands, wrists, and arms felt heavier. The rope twisted in and around the joints, pulled tight to wrap through the bed’s iron headboard, which swirled into a whimsical pattern. Your legs were left somewhat free, ankles bound by the same rope, but the knot around them was too tight for you to wriggle your feet free entirely.

Each time you tried to wrestle the restraints, they’d dig into your skin, scratching and pressing until lines of red were left.

You gave up squirming when the pain became too much, having let go of the hope that someone would hear your muted screams just before that.

Your heart rate failed to slow, stuck in a perpetual frantic pace as you resorted to counting and crying to yourself for comfort.

For a sense of security in a situation that couldn’t possibly remain secure.

A shroud of defeat hung above you, blanketing you in exhaustion as the numbers rang through your head again.

One. Two. Three. Four….One.

One. Two. Three. Four-

*snap*

*click*

Your counting abruptly ends when you hear the door lock come to life—a sharp sound that sends rivets of caution through your veins. You watch from the bed as the doorknob twists, turns, and clicks open.

*creak…*

The wood cries quietly as it’s pried open, inching with gentle force as a figure steps through it.

“You’re awake….I’m glad.”

Chris smiles, a warmth to his lowered voice that doesn’t entirely match the tension his presence has created in the stuffy room you’re tied up in.

You stare at him, watery eyes wide with confusion and pure fear.

His smile.

His voice.

Those brown eyes of his that you’d sworn looked so sweet, lighting up with recognition when you showed him the record store's Nirvana section. Now, they terrified you as they grazed along your vulnerable position.

A position he’d put you into.

A position you hadn’t expected him, a man so warm and so down to earth yet new to you, to put you in.

Chris saw the wheels turning in your head, reading the tidbits of betrayal bombarding you as the pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to put together for hours finally came together.

He felt…guilty, of course.

He hadn’t meant to take you so quickly. Let alone without getting to know your mind a little better, but he needed a new source of purpose…

A new fix for the addiction many were unaware he had developed after years of denying it himself.

He needed a vice, a project, a doll to mold, a person who would depend on him and only him.

You checked all those boxes. He’d made sure of it. Trailing you for weeks after spotting you closing the record shop one evening on your way to the cafe he’d just left only a moment ago.

Getting rid of a body was never easy. It was a tedious task he rarely did without the help of caffeine in any form he could find, but one look at you had his mind wandering from the burden.

It was almost too perfect, in his opinion.

You were almost too perfect.

You remained on his mind for the next few days. You were the only thing he could ponder while tossing bags of muscle into the ocean in the dark hours of the morning. An itch he couldn’t quite scratch away.

So, against the resolve of his last failure to find someone to hold on to, Chris took an interest in you.

In your day-to-day life.

In the few friends and family you had and kept close.

In the days you went to work.

In the time you spent at the cafe after you’d leave the record shop.

In the specific orders you made.

A toasted strawberry strudel and cold cream latte on Mondays and Sundays.

Pumpkin vanilla cappuccino and lemon cake slice on Tuesday and Thursday.

Oh, but his favorite combination you ordered happened every Friday…

A slice of cake with strawberry filling and a cup of ice cream with extra whipped cream on top.

On those days, he’d watch from afar as your cheeks flushed from every bite of cake and cold cream you’d take. Bits of whipped cream swiped off your lips with a quick pass of your tongue. And that slight smile on your face as you enjoyed the treat always warmed his heart a little more each time he saw it.

You lived alone.

All alone.

A sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to but you do.

Chris couldn’t stand it.

Not the way you walked home all alone each night.

Not the way you stayed at the record store later on some nights to finish your manager’s closing tasks whenever he asked you to.

Which was far too many times for Chris’s liking.

Not the way you’d had to shop for yourself. You were buying smaller portions of groceries only to feed yourself.

Not how you helped anyone, even the rudest customers he’d ever seen when stopped by the record store in search of anything but vinyl records.

Not the way you’d crouch down in the alleyway after those interactions to cry into your hands and try to calm down before returning to work with a smile.

He couldn’t stand it.

Any of it.

Weeks of watching you suffer through a life he could make so much better for you made his headache and his mind numb.

Meeting you in the record store was only supposed to be a soft start to a usual routine he’d perfected over time. A quick interaction, something to ease his desire to have you all to himself. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But seeing your smile up close, hearing your soft voice carry under the sound of the 80s best hits as you led him to the section of records he’d asked to see, did something indescribable to him.

He could’ve waited. He could’ve gone on a few dates that he knew you’d gladly go on with him, but a rare impulse toppled over his logic.

You’d be so much happier if he had you.

He knew it.

He believed it.

And sooner or later, you’d believe it, too.

What’s the harm in making sure you’d believe it sooner?

Chris breathed, steadying himself despite the relief he felt seeing you wide awake and safe right where he had left you.

“Listen,…Y/n…” he stepped closer, eyes drifting around your figure when you began to toss and turn against the bed to scoot further away from him.

To keep him away at all costs.

Chris felt his heart drop, his smile gone, watching your teary eyes dart over him and through the room. Your body shook, your legs pulled close to your chest, and your head pressed back into the headboard.

You were terrified.

He terrified you.

That just wouldn’t do, and Chris stifled his inner doubts and regrets about causing you so much confusion and distress to remedy it in any way he could.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d listen to reason and hear him out.

You seemed like the understanding type.

A girl who could see another’s perspective without offering harsh judgment.

Chris was sure of it, though you looked utterly terrified of him now, if he was careful enough…

You’d have no choice but to understand.

“Listen,” he smiled at you, rounding the bed in three swift steps and kneeling at its left edge as you tried to curl closer to the right one.

He sighed, trying not to take your reluctance to be near him to heart, but the silent sobs that barely made it past your gag annoyed him to some degree.

Did you think he’d hurt you?

Him?

The one who’d made it his life’s new purpose to protect you at all costs would plan on hurting you when he’d only just gotten his hands on you?

Chris felt the frown on his lips, unable to retrain his disappointment in your behavior. Still, the disapproving expression he held lasted for less than seconds before he softened into a kinder one.

“Listen… I’m not going to hurt you. I know you must be so scared right now, sweetheart, and that’s fine.”

He straightened up, raising his arms to fold on the bedsheets. His shoulders tightened underneath the black shirt he wore, and he took a deep, elongated breath through his nose.

You watched him, struggling to see him as the same man you’d met in the record store. From the beginning, he’d been a stranger, a new face of kindness that mirrored your own, but now your mind couldn’t fathom what to think of him.

A dryness settled in the back of your throat, adding to your jaw ache and the soreness blooming through each of your tied limbs.

You were in pain.

He was putting you through so much pain, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

And you still had a little faith in his promise, believing the sick irony of it for the sake of internal hope.

Chris raised his head, strands of blonde hair falling over those eyes you couldn’t help staring into. “You can be afraid of me, baby. I know you are, and that’s fine, but know I’m doing this for you…” He paused, letting a wry laughas his lips pulled into a smile you barely saw when he lowered his head again.

Your nerves vibrated with anxiety, his sudden silence setting you on edge and bringing tears right back to your tired eyes.

Chris looked up, hearing you crying again, brows furrowing with irritation and concern. “Don’t cry.” The command hangs in the air, crisp and direct. You flinch hearing it, put off by the gentle raise of his voice and his abrupt movement to stand up and lean over the bed’s edge.

You shift away from him, holding back the tears that beg to fall from your eyes, fearing that disobeying his demand won’t end well for you.

“Crying won’t change anything for you.” He inches closer, a knee dipping into the mattress as his left-hand reaches to cup your face. You jerk your head back at his touch, ignoring the slight pain hitting it against the headboard causes but failing to avoid his touch when he weaves his fingers through your hair and tugs to hold you in place.

It hurts.

The pressure he inflicts onto your scalp leaves you complacent and strained.

You go still, shivering underneath his looming body heat as he drapes his head over yours.

Blonde locks tickle the bridge of your nose and forehead, shifting as his brows raise and his thickly accented voice pierces the room's defeating silence.

“You’re a smart girl, yeah?..”

You nod in a daze, throat too dry to scream, head too sore to think, and heart racing too fast for you to decide if fear or attraction to him was taking over you.

You hoped it was the latter.

Otherwise, you’d already begun to lose your mind.

Chris smirked, studying the way your pupils dilated on him.

There it is.

The sign he’d been longing to see since he’d walked into the room and found you awake.

A small, familiar, and telling indication of submission.

“Yeah, you are…” he scoffs, eyes drifting to the tape plastered across your face, noting the subtle lines of drool beginning to slip from under it and down your chin.

Your chest heaved as you inhaled a sharp breath through your nose, choking on a sob that dwindled into a whimper for mercy.

For his mercy.

His pity.

Anyway you could get it, use it, and beg for it.

Your desperation.

You wanted him to see it written across your face and in every painful sound you made.

But Chris looked right past it, heard none, and continued leering you into his web of little white lies.

“Then you understand why I’m doing this to you? Why I have to keep you safe like this? Why you have to stay and do as I say?..”

You don’t move. You are not giving him a nod or a flutter of your lashes that’ll resonate in agreement.

Because you disagree.

You’re helpless, scared, and condemned.

But your pride and need for survival hang on by a thread, so you refuse to feed into him more than you have to.

You defy him.

Chris waits. He waits for a moment to see if you’ll give an inch to his established mile, and when you don’t show any sign of doing so, he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“So….that’s how you’re going to be…” he sighs, frowns present as he loosens the hand gripping your hair to trail it down to the nape of your neck. You jolt at the feeling of his large and rough hand meeting your bare skin, applying pressure right below the crown of your head as he holds you still.

“I bet this is hurting you, huh?” Chris hums, a genuine flicker of sympathy flashing across his face as he lifts his free hand to trace over the duct tape plastered across yours. “Why don’t I help you, hm? Get this off your pretty mouth and let you answer me…”

Your eyes widen, and your head tosses in his hold the second his pointer and thumb grasp a corner of the tape and pull it from your skin.

Chris rips the sticky plastic from your face as if it were a simple bandage over a healed wound, and you cringe hard at the ruthless action. A half-formed scream, tears from your still stuffed mouth turning into frantic cries as he forces you to stay still through the searing pain.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” He comments passively, pulling the wad of cloth between your aching lips and tossing it onto the bed with the discarded tape.

You cough, your throat is burning, and your jaw is hurting as you try to grit your teeth and speak to him, but your voice is inaudible.

Stripped away from all the pointless screaming and crying you’d done for god knows how long.

He smiles at your attempt to curse and yell at him, his head shaking mockingly as he passes a thumb over your trembling lips. “Shh shhh shhh…just listen to me, sweetheart,” he coos, and you groan in defeat as he repeats his earlier question.

“You understand why I’m doing this to you, right? That it’s not safe for you out there. Not without me there to help you…say you understand, and I’ll take away the pain you’re feeling right now.”

You stare at him, failing to maintain a glare from the strain your mind and body is in.

It would help your sanity if you said no.

Shake your head and build up the courage and will to fight him with all you have, but numbness drags you into a state of complicit survival.

A need to appease him and hopefully garner some relief from your physical exhaustion.

Your lips part but then snap shut when a sharp ache flares in your jaw.

Chris’s face softens completely when he sees the minuscule instance of pain you’re in. “You don’t have to talk if it hurts. Nod for me instead….just like that,” he soothes you in a hushed tone, smiling as you obediently nod your head.

“Atta’ girl…” he praises, a smile slowly forming again as you whine quietly, shutting your eyes tight, letting the few tears you have left pour down your reddened cheeks.

You can’t speak, and you have no freedom to move or motivation to call for help.

And part of you doesn't want to anymore.

Part of you sees no point in doing so.

What’s the point in fighting him when you can barely speak or move a muscle without strain.

Without feeding into his demented perception of your need for him.

It’s odd—feeling defeated but strangely aware of the caring nature of a man who's forced you into such a miserable state.

Chris breathes a sigh of relief, nose nudging against yours as he hums lowly while breathing you in.

Breathing in your desperation.

Your dependence.

Your fear.

Your innocence.

He takes everything you have to offer him, his mind racing with ways to use it against you…

To help you, his newly shattered doll, piece yourself together again.

The correct way.

His way.

a/n: This’ll be a 4 pt series and my prime event for the spooky season. Btw…fiction is fiction and this fic has pretty extensive and extreme themes in it so please don’t continue to read it if any of the plot/context makes you uncomfortable. I don’t tend to hold back on darker themed fics and this one won’t be any different so please keep that in mind.

other links: n/a (might go up on AO3 later)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

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brattyfics · 2 months ago

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All women need a hobby and I can not stress this enough. Fortunately for us, the possibilities are endless!

Read and/or Write fiction, non-fiction, etc.

Research something that fascinates you and create a PowerPoint about it. This one is really fun because it can be about something complex like the mummification process in ancient Egypt or something simple like the plants and animals native to your local area.

Thrift a dollhouse and make tiny furniture for it.

Thrifting is a hobby in itself, TBH. Buy & collect DVDs and CDs like it’s 2006, or even vintage trinkets and furniture. Who can stop you?

Learn how to knit or sew. This is not a boring ‘granny’ hobby. There are so many cool and cute things you can make!

Make paper dolls and cute little clothes for them. Super inexpensive. All you need is paper and crayons or markers.

Coloring, Sudoku, Crosswords. These are great because they’re low pressure and you can pick them up and put them down quickly if you don’t have a lot of time.

Jewelry making. Beware this gets expensive fast. Really fun though.

Go on walks and collect leaves & shit. Glue or tape them down in a journal and write something about the moment you found them, or what they remind you of.

Make niche playlists. It’s not a waste of time if you enjoy it. Curate a vibe, pretend you’re a DJ!

Daydream. At your own risk. This one is kind of dangerous, NGL. But it is free, and no one can take it from you.

Try new recipes that sound good to you. It doesn’t matter if your man or your kids don’t like it. It’s not always about them. Respectfully.

Journaling. This is like 100 hobbies in one. You can sketch fashion designs, write poems, keep a log of information you’ve researched, print pictures you love and create a mood board (like a physical format of Pinterest) or you can even glue down your literal trash (wrappers from your drink bottles, labels from things you’ve bought, the bags your fast food came in, etc.)

Whatever it is, you need to do and create something that is just for yourself!

#personal #we have to be vigilant about not living solely for the satisfaction of others #especially now #you are not a mule nor a maid #you are a person with interests and dreams #do not labor your life away

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mattslolita · 10 months ago

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psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( intro. )

in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.

ghostface!chris x black!fem oc

warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc

"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

𝒁aria 𝑺imone as 𝑪harmaine 𝑰rie 𝑬vans

The Final Girl. I Did Something Bad.

𝑪hristopher 𝑺turniolo as 𝑯imself

The Boyfriend. Disturbia.

( everyone else as themselves! )

playlist :

( 001 ). psycho killer - talking heads

( 002 ). in my room - insane clown posse

( 003 ). all-american bitch - olivia rodrigo

( 004 ). pacify her - melanie martinez

( 005 ). all i wanted - paramore

( 006 ). favorite crime - olivia rodrigo

( 007 ). i did something bad - taylor swift

( 008 ). disturbia - rihanna

( 009 ). na na - trey songz

( 010 ). heaven - julia michaels

( 011 ). friends - chase atlantic

( 012 ). gasoline - halsey

( 013 ). starboy - the weeknd

( 014 ). tag, your it - melanie martinez

( 015 ). heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

( 016 ). heathens - twenty one pilots

( 017 ). daddy issues - the neighborhood

( 018 ). dollhouse - melanie martinez

( 019 ). doin time - lana del rey

( 020 ). kill bill - sza

( 021 ). criminal - britney spears

( 022 ). serial killer - lana del rey

( 023 ). mad hatter - melanie martinez

( 024 ). brutal - olivia rodrigo

( 025 ). pumped up kicks - foster the people

( 026 ). woo - rihanna

( 027 ). stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey

( 028 ). sippy cup - melanie martinez

( 029 ). smooth operator - sade

( 030 ). cake - melanie martinez

( 031 ). ready for it? - taylor swift

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱

💌 lil

this fic was on my burner wattpad acc but i missed her, so here she is for y'all to enjoy !😜 most chaps were pre-written, so expect pt. 1 soon😏

for my baes : @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @guccifrog @e1ias3 @mrssturnioloo @prettiest-poision @mattsivy ❤‍🩹

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thevirgodoll · 2 years ago

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in case the link doesn’t work - I’m thevirgodoll on Spotify :)

New Doll Diaries entry on the Bohemian/Free Spirit personality type!

#dollhouse queue #music #doll archetypes #archetype playlist #Spotify

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omegaremix · 4 months ago

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October 7, 2022.

I’m on the way in breaking my record for the most visits to New York City in a single year. Three of these visits were to see Boy Harsher and Cold Waves’ X in Brooklyn, and Sacred Bones’ 15th anniversary label showcase out in Queens (Maspeth). Three more of these were visits to record stores: twice at Academy and once at Captured Tracks. Well, this is visit #7: a routine visit to the city doctor. This time in East Manhattan overlooking the East River.

And, it’d be one of the quickest. Penn Station to the ‘Q’ line and a few steps to 74th St. The stay was no more than 75 minutes before I bolted out and headed back to the ‘Q’ for Penn Station. For some reason, I didn’t feel like staying. I knew it was going to bite me later on. Not only was I dissatisfied in having work the next day, but my anxiety didn’t want to have any of today.

Henry Mancini: “Pure Pussy”

JPEGMAFIA: “Keltec!”

Totally Unicorn: “33”

Mess: “F.T.W.”

Paper Dollhouse: “Unicorn”

Team Dresch:” #1 Chance Pirate TV”

Android: “Not By Faith But By Sight”

Pile: “Mr. Employer”

Tape-Beatles, The: “Listen To The Radio”

Oneida: “Beat Me To The Punch”

Cults: “Poodles Dancing”

Curse Mackey: “Submerge”

Boris: “Uzume”

JPEGMAFIA: “Rough 7”

BRNDA: “Year Of The Hot Dog By Burger Gang”

Carlo Giustini: “Manifestazioni”

Foetus: “I Am Surrounded By Incompetence”

Jaune Orange: “Cocaine Piss”

Steve Hartlett: “Overwhelmed”

Vandal Moon: “Young. Deadly. Beautiful.”

Acumen Nation: “Gun Lover”

Palm: "Feathers"

#omega #music #playlists #mixtapes #personal #Palm #Foetus #Vandal Moon #JPEGMAFIA #Boris #Curse Mackey #Cults #Oneida #Paper Dollhouse #Totally Unicorn

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h5eavenly · 10 months ago

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Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Thirty-Five - Flickers Of The Past I.

TW: mentions of disordered eating, diets, mental health issues and suicide.

wc: 8.3

playlist: dollhouse - melanie martinez / cardigan - taylor swift / until i found you - Stephen Sanchez

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The first time you ever saw Hyunjin you were seven years old. It was amid a hot June summer; the scorching hot weather and unforgiving sun were unrelenting. Swearing to make the process of you and your family moving into a new neighborhood absolute hell. Not for you though, the only thing that was causing you discomfort is your long hair. Adding unnecessary layer to provide heat on your neck and causing beads of sweat to roll down it.

Your mom had muttered countless excuses to you. Something about how this time your dad is finally gonna make it. His business is gonna flourish and soon enough you’ll be rich. You didn’t really understand what does having money make any difference? You only wanted three things right now, your mom, dad and one of the cookies that your mom had placed on a plate on the table in front of you. A rumbling in your tummy only confirms your hunger.

“Stay still Y/N.” she warns, pulling slightly on your hair as you had inched forward without noticing. You nodded earning a tsk in return. You stilled, shoulders slumped and trying not squirm in discomfort. The thigh highs your mom forced you to wear cling to your thighs in sweat. Your mom continued brushing your hair, tying your hair in pigtail to start working on the left section of your hair.

“Can I have a cookie mommy?” you ask with a hiss when she finally tied the remaining hair in a pigtail, like the right one. Your mom stood up; her brown hair falls beautifully over her shoulders, resembles silk. She sighs, a line of annoyance between her brows “it’s not time for your snacks yet Y/N.”

“But mommy I’m hungry” your small palm clutched the end of her red dress, a pout that would be described as adorable to anyone else but to your mom it was an eyesore. It was what she always said.

“Don’t be an eyesore Y/N. I don’t care if you’re hungry you need to wait.” She scolded with a stern voice and a glare you were too used to in her eyes. And just like that your small heart crumbles, breaking into pieces right at her feet. She turned away with a huff, her black heels stepping all over your broken heart. Breaking it into smaller pieces just to make sure that you won’t be able to pick it up.

You didn’t cry, despite the lingering heaviness in your heart. You told yourself it didn’t matter; your mom was probably just stressed. She always is whenever you guys moved and with this being the third time already in a year. She was probably overwhelmed. You adjusted the overall strap of your dress that had fallen to lie beside your elbow. An ache in your knees as you stood up. Your big eyes had stayed on the narrow corridor leading to your parent’s room.

You counted to ten and when there was no sign of your mom coming out, your small hand reached for one of the cookies in a hurry. Panic has your heart picking up its pace, a fear clinging to the tips of your fingers. Your other hand clutching the ear of your stuffed bunny, your small feet scrambling in hurry towards the door leaving a trail of cookie crumbs on the floor. The sound of the front door closing echoes in your empty house. Reminding your little mind that this isn’t home it’s nothing but another stop sign along the way.

Once you’re outside, you sit down on the steps of the front porch. Your stuffed bunny sitting by your leg as you chew away on your chocolate chip cookie. Humming in delight with a smile as you turn to watch the two boys playing soccer on your one of neighbor’s lawn. It wasn’t fun to watch simply because you did not understand a thing, did not understand if they were good or bad. Why was the girl cheering, on the ground with catlike eyes and a big smile. Was she cheering them both or one of them?

As if on instinct one of the boys had noticed you, leaving their game unattended to look at you. Locking eyes with you had you frozen in place, the cookie half way into your mouth. For an odd reason an uncomfortable feeling had travelled its way through your body, like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have perhaps that’s why when the boy with midnight black hair, a mole under his right eye, waved at you with overflowing excitement, your face burned, and you turned away. Walking back to your house in hurrying manner. A strange feeling in your chest. You blamed it on the boy’s smile, it was as bright as the sun.

Three weeks exactly after that you saw him again. You were waiting at the bus stop, short legs swinging back and forth as you sat comfortably on the wooden bench. Your dark hair is tied into a high ponytail and away from your face. Your pink skirt and matching thigh highs were added cuteness to your already chubby cheeks or at least that’s what the lady next door had said to you. It had earned you two small cartons of strawberry milk. One that is between your hands and its straw in your mouth while the other is protected in your pink bunny backpack.

The sound of sniffles had your ears perked up; attention stole. Looking to where they were coming from you saw a small boy, almost the same size as you, curled up on the sidewalk. Head in his hands. You eyed him curiously, a bit surprised by the number of adults passing by and not sparing him a glance. You weren’t really a brave kid, always more on the shy side, refusing to talk to strangers and clinging to your mother’s leg during social events. So, what you did next was definitely out of character for you.

Jumping down the bench, you threw your now empty carton of milk into a nearby trashcan. A hop in your step, the sun warming the coldness in your palms as you settled right beside him. Shoulders brushing and with your presence he looked up, eyes red and tear streaks over his pretty mole. You were surprised, didn’t expect it to be the boy from your neighborhood.

“Why are you crying?” you had asked, head tilting in spirit of inquiry. The boy eyes sharpen, a childish glint in them as he crossed his arms over his chest “I’m not crying!” he defended weakly, bottom lip trembling “mom said big boys like me never cry!” as if mocking him a tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another just to break down the act he worked so hard on putting on.

Your chest had tightened painfully in sympathy, an emotion you still didn’t know what to call.

“But it’s okay to cry when you’re sad doesn’t matter if you’re big or small.” The words came to your small brain like common sense, colored in innocence. He shook his head stubbornly, despite the sniffles escaping his mouth. Your own lips have formed into a pout, searching your brain for a way to make his sadness disappear.

“What happened?” you finally asked after a while, a black cat taking its place next to your leg. You scratched behind its ear with a smile and Hyunjin watched you with tear clouded vision.

“I-I think my dad is sick.” He muttered between sniffles; you furrowed your brows “tell him to take some medicine. Mommy always gives me that when I’m sick. It tastes awful but it makes me feel better.”

“I told my mom that too.” Hyunjin replies, his own hand reaching over your lap to scratch at the cat’s ears. It starts purring, eyes closed in bliss “but she says he’s sick in here.” He explains by pointing to his head with his index finger and a pout on his pink lips. You grow even more confused haven’t heard of people being sick in the head, but you keep quiet. Nodding in faux understanding as you tell yourself you should read about it later. A short silence settles between you two when the cat jumps into Hyunjin’s lap and curls on itself.

Hyunjin chuckles, the only evidence of his sadness is the lines of tears drying on his cheeks “she likes me!” Hyunjin mumbles cheerfully as he turns to you with a big smile, the same one you saw three weeks ago and that was as warm as the sun. You smile back at him “yeah.”

At the end of the street, you notice your familiar school bus making its way towards the stop “I have to go now.” You announce standing up and adjusting the straps of your backpack. Hyunjin pays you no mind, nodding slightly as he is too immersed in his excitement about petting the cat on his lap. You loiter, staring at the boy before unzipping your pink backpack and taking out the strawberry milk you were planning on drinking later.

“Take this.” You said, outstretching your hand to him with the carton. Hyunjin looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise “I don’t like strawberry milk.”

“But why? It tastes good and it helps me when I’m feeling down.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I was feeling down this morning but now I’m so much better!” you boosted, an enthusiasm in your voice that had him growing slightly excited as well. He took it, a pink coloring his cheeks as this has been the first time he had ever taken anything from a girl aside from Yeji “Okay!”

“Later sad boy!” you waved with a big smile, his own words of protest left unsaid when you turned around and ran towards the bus stop.

After that day you never saw Hyunjin, not around the bus stop and nowhere around the neighborhood. You heard your mom and the women next door talk about how the Hwang’s moved away because her husband has passed away. It didn’t make much sense to you back then, but you only remember realizing that you never asked for his name, and he never asked for yours.

You don’t see Hyunjin again until you’re sixteen. It’s another wheel of destiny that spins you around just to throw you in the same spot as him, for you guys to clash into one another. But back then, you hadn’t realized it yet. It was a similar cycle, an old record that had played repeatedly till you memorized all the tracks. You had just moved to a new neighborhood, a house bigger than your last one, a more modern version than the last one with marble floors and big glass windows, a slick black aesthetically pleasing kitchen. It all meant nothing to your mom though, not good enough because even though your dad was making a lot more money than last year. He wasn’t rich enough for his name to mean something. It’s evident in the way your mom grumbles all afternoon, brows knitted and a scowl permanent on her face. You ignore her, lazing around on the couch in the living room and counting the number of black dots decorating the ceiling.

The faint sound of music coming from the turned on tv aids you in keeping your mind off your reality.

“Y/N! come on it’s time for your meal!” she calls for you from the kitchen, voice sounding a bit far just to remind you of the bigger space of this house. You sigh, rolling off the couch and onto your feet, passing by the unopened boxes and through foyer the only seems to grow longer with every house. You make it to the kitchen to be greeted with the plate your mom had made specifically for you, a bunch of steamed vegetables. Broccoli, carrots, and peas.

A sour taste settles in your throat, the emptiness of your stomach nudges to ask for more and you contemplate it, fingers drumming on the kitchen island.

“Can I at least have protein?” you finally ask, voice weak and unsure and your body wavers in similar weakness when your mom turns to face you with a hateful glare. As if she’s offended “You had protein for breakfast that’s enough.” She spits with disgust dousing her tone, and you don’t need her to say more to know exactly what she’s thinking, it’s the way her eyes trail over your body with a wrinkled nose. As if she hates to look at you.

“But I’m hungry.” You try to argue, ignoring the goosebumps raising on your body due to her harsh eyes.

“Being a little hungry won’t kill you Y/N. Now eat your food and shut up. You’re giving me a headache.” She rubs her hand over his face and then through her hair, an act of stress and your anxiety renders you mute. But your mother never stops and that’s always been her downfall. A greed that’s never full and it’s the same way with her mouth, always spilling venom and leaving it behind for you to clean up.

“Just look at your body, always talking about how hungry you are no wonder none of the diets are working.” She’s talking to herself, you realize that. And it’s not something you haven’t heard before, so you don’t know why it triggered you that day. Maybe it was another card destiny had thrown on your unfortunate table.

“I don’t fucking care about my body” the words have divulged from your mouth without warning, spilling like vomit. It was the first time you cursed in front of your mom, the first time you argued this long for a while, but you don’t get to dwell on the thought, don’t get to reflect long enough when her palms come in contact with your right cheek in a burning slap.

It’s not the first time she has hit you, it happened a few times before, so you wonder why does is it more agonizing each time? Why do your eyes still fill with tears and why does betrayal seep into your eyes, into your shocked look at her. As if she was anything different than a snake who sank her teeth into you. But she looks at you as if you’re a criminal who had stabbed her right in the heart, feed on it and threw the rest to dogs.

“Go to your room no food for you today.” It was a punishment you knew was waiting for you down the line the longer you had talked. And the best way to deal with all this was to take it but instead you run away. An ocean of tears had clouded your vision and you had somehow ended up on the beach. Sniffling as you hugged your legs to your body.

Now that you think about it you know fate had played you, placed you in another position where you would have no choice but to run into him, you had no choice but to be cursed by him but that’s not how you felt when his ball hit you, it’s not what you felt when even more tears had streamed down your face because what else could go wrong?

Frustration had bubbled in your blood, blending itself with your sadness to form a puddle of overwhelmingly painful emotions that you had no choice but to lay in. It gets worse when Hyunjin had jogged your worry, his apology dies on his tongue when you make eye contact with him. Teary yet fiery eyes pierce his soul, and he was never the type to be left speechless. It comes to him like a flame blown out from a candle and the heat burns him.

At his name being called, he picks his ball and turns away. The face of the crying girl on the beach leaves him awake an hour longer at night.

The second time you see Hyunjin it’s in the halls of your school. It was early in the morning, the halls bustling with students rushing to their first class. You were by your locker, getting your biology book out and once you closed it shut the last thing you expected to see that morning is the face of none other than Hyunjin. Leaning on the locker next to you with a tight smile on his face

“Hi.” He says and somehow his voice is nothing like you expected, it ends up being on the sweeter side, pleasant to hear.

“Hey?” you reply with an edge of confusion in your tone, clear enough that it makes him nervous. Pushing a hand through his already pushed back black hair “I’m Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” You nod signaling for him to continue, by now you already knew who Hyunjin was. It was impossible not to know him when his name was on everyone’s tongue. The talk about the endless impressive acts of his are a record you had to endure daily from every student you come across. From his outstanding dance skills at the dance club to his impressive plays on the field during soccer games. Getting the captain title was a piece of cake for him, a piece he hadn’t even planned on eating, but it ended up right on his plate by its own.

His silence stretches a minute or two too long as if he’s waiting for you to say something back, when you don’t, he clears his throat in attempt to regain his missing confidence “Uh- I hit you with my ball last week. At the beach? Remember?”

“I do,”

“Great! Uh I’m sorry about that.”

“it’s okay.” You assure with a smile in hope it will dissipate the awkwardness “how is your head by the way?” he trails bunglingly, fingers pointing to your head.

“I still have my memories so I’m probably fine” You reply with a soft smile. Amusement swims in your eyes at the way he acts, the way he won’t meet your eyes for longer than a second before they travel elsewhere. Randomly staring at a few lockers away.

Hyunjin’s blush colored lips twitch upwards in mimicking smile, a breath of a chuckle escapes him “that’s a relief.” He says, bouncing on the heels of his feet with his hands buried in the front pockets of his school uniform.

Another awkward silence settles between you two, he looks as if he has something more to say but the words won’t come out, you try not to rush him, try to wait for him to just spit out but when it stretches. You clear your throat to capture his wandering eyes, they lock with yours, widening as a nervous pink blush takes its place on his pale cheeks “Well I better head to class.”

“Yeah of course.” He nods. Taking a step to the side to move out of the way and with another faint smile of yours you go on your own way. Once you pass by him the smell of peaches and cream coats the inside of your nose and stays there far longer than you anticipated.

If you count the time, you’re sure it’s exactly sixty seconds and if you’re a little bit off then it won’t be more than eighty seconds before you feel his hand circle your wrist, halting your movement with a rushed out “wait!”

His palm is warm, yet his rings are cold as ice, and they leave you more buzzled when you turn to look at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Your name,” he sounds breathless, and you wonder why “you didn’t tell me your name.” the halls had started to empty, reminding you that you’re late to your first period already. The dying noise brings attention to the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and something else in the distance. If you focus hard enough you swear you could hear the chirping of birds as if they’re signaling the beginning of something you aren’t aware of yet.

If your life was a book this will be the chapter where everything changes and flips upside down, the chapter where you begin to see how large the real world is compared to this small bubble you thought was the world. And all what it’d take is a singular look at Hyunjin’s dark eyes. And if this was somehow a movie it would be the beginning of a fairytale like arc and a soft tune with overflowing lovestruck words would be playing right now. Swirling around and tempting you into a spell that tastes like nothing but pure gold and affection.

But this wasn’t a book nor a movie.

“Y/N” you say “Song Y/N.”

This was a game fate had started and choose you as the main player. The only problem was the rules were never explained and your purpose has yet to be found. Years later when you look back at your meeting you remember how Hyunjin never asked you about the fact that you were crying or the glaringly obvious red mark on your cheek.

You’re thankful.

The next time you see Hyunjin it’s in detention. Given his reputation you shouldn’t be surprised but given your reputation he is more than surprised when he notices you there. His bored and cold stare had transformed into a wide eyed one, eagerness filling his limbs into jumbled tapping of his foot on the floor. Grinding on his teeth as he chewed slowly on his mint flavored gum. Eyes pasted at you, you who was sitting a few seats way from him, you who was too immersed in whatever you were doing on your notebook to spare a glance in his way. Your dark hair falling over the side of your face like a barrier depriving him of stealing glances at your face. It left him withering away in disappointment he didn’t quite understand.

Truth, is you didn’t deserve to be here, well at least partly. Last night you stayed late, working on a brand-new idea you had for a jacket design. You were so focused on it and hadn’t realized the number of hours that had passed by. Once your neck had started aching from your position, fingers sore, you had finally looked at the clock placed next you, you were shocked to see it’s already 3 am. So, when you ended up dozing off the next day and falling asleep in chem class. You did not expect the punishment to be detention. You had argued with your teacher. It was a bad idea because it only resulted in a week worth of detention.

However, now that you’re here you realize it is not that bad. It was quiet, the other students dozing off along with the teacher that was assigned to watch you. It was an opportunity for you to finish your designs. Away from your mother’s nagging and your father’s freezing stare.

You feel it then, something hitting your shoulder to steal your attention from your drawing. You look down at the crumpled piece of paper by your shoes.

Hyunjin gauges your reaction, watches as you elegantly tuck your hair behind your ear. Brows furrowing in confusion as you bend down and pick up the paper. Pulling your pretty lips into an even prettier pout as you open the paper only to find it empty. Only to discern it was an attempt to capture an ounce of your attention. You’re surrounded in softness that has him drowning in jealousy, wishing he was a piece of paper just to be held by you.

He watches as your eyes scan the room, looking for a culprit to blame and then they’re landing on him. Bullseye.

Hyunjin plays his role way too well, leans in his chair with his soccer varsity jacket on. A spread in his legs. Undeterred by the speeding beats of his heart, palms watering in nervous sweat the longer your darling eyes are on him. His own hand raises in a wave, a wink colored in confidence he lacked last time is thrown your way. You feel a wave of shyness wash over you at his unexpected forwardness. Your lips curl into a sheepish smile, a shake of your head as you look away and back down at your notebook.

As if you have given him the green light. Energy surges through his body, overshadowing his nerves and he moves as if your smile has been a magic spell you so willingly put on him. And the empty seat in front of you is taken by him. You smell him before you see him, a whirlwind of emotions swim through you when he’s face to face with you, his back to the sleeping teacher.

“Song Y/N.” he greets with a grin, charm clings to his features and your eyes linger on his mole. Sending familiarity to your mind. Raking through it but finding nowhere to place it.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back, leaning back in your seat, arms stretching in front of you to cover your notebook.

His eyes flicker to it momentarily before going back to your face. A fresh glint is in there, a pleasant one like he’s happy you remember his name.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” There’s a pleasant breathy edge to his voice.

“I don’t fit in here?” you ask playfully, tilting your head and he’s almost suffocating on your beauty. Didn’t think it’s possible for someone like you to exist.

“Good girls don’t belong in detention.”

“How do you know I’m a good girl? I might have a wild side to me.” You challenge with a raised brow. With his heart beating wildly in his chest when he reaches forward, his fingers drum on the wood of your table almost brushing against your hand “I’d love to see that.”

You hum, his hand radiating heat that spreads through your body despite the fact that he isn’t touching you “well I expected seeing you here, so I guess that helps with your bad boy image.” You comment.

“Bad boy image?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that why you walk around with a cigarette tucked behind your ear?”

“Oh.” His other hand reaches for the poisonous stick he forgot he placed there “that’s why everyone was glaring at me earlier.”

There’s a short silence that fills the small spaces between your bodies, melting on your skin and in your throat begging you to speak the longer his eyes watch you “what are you here for?” you ask after a while, Hyunjin blinks as if he had forgotten the moment he was in, as if he was lost in you, aa if you were anything deserving to get lost in.

“I got caught smoking in the bathroom.” He says stonily “and you?”

“I got caught sleeping in class,” you reply with a shrug, and he chuckles, amused at how different you two are in the best possible way. It ignites something in him, waters a field he didn’t know was abandoned in his heart.

“What are you writing?” he asks, pointing with his eyes at the notebook you’re still hiding. You hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip before tentatively removing your hands, allowing him to look. And he does, ever so eager as his eyes study the sketch of your design.

“You did this?” he asks with wide shinning eyes, and you wordlessly nod “Y/N it’s amazing!”

“You really think so?” you ask and Hyunjin’s grin widens in response “yes! You’re so talented holy fuck!” he exclaims in strives to convince you. His tone raising in volume before he slaps his hand to his mouth, eyes wide and he turns around to check if he disturbed the sleep of the teacher. He still snores peacefully.

You break into a fit of giggles, a sound he did not expect to hear and when he turns back to you. Your small hand is covering your mouth. The sight has butterflies roaming through his stomach, violently as if fighting for a way to come out. His own lips stretching into a smile until your laughter dies down, settling into an awkward silence as you avoid his eyes.

“You’re cute, Song Y/N.” he says absentmindedly, as if he didn’t mean for them to run away from his mind to his tongue but he doesn’t flatter, doesn’t take it away and you bask in the way it makes you feel. In the way your face burns as you grip your pencil and resumed the swirls of your hand, running away from his words only for them to hunt you down again.

The rest of detention had passed in a tranquil silence, despite the windows being closed you had felt incredibly warm. It courses through your heart, bumping life into the dull ache that has settled there. The warmth of Hyunjin’s gaze had lingered, it seared on your being even after weeks of not seeing him again.

You don’t see Hyunjin for a long while after that, not until the end of the semester. A week before summer break and during preparation for your school’s summer festival. A yearly event that they held. In the midst of your group making a sign with unmatching colors for your class you had ran out of color, grumbling and complaining they argued on who should go get more “I’ll go get it.” You volunteered, killing their argument successfully and earning thank yous in return.

You strolled along the running track on your way to the main building taking your time as you had grown tired from working all day. It felt like a nice break. Your hand swings back and forth capping and uncapping the sharpie pen you didn’t realize you picked up when you got up. Your eyes linger to your left, watching the soccer practice that is taking place. It wasn’t hard to notice him, the star of the team. The hushed whispers of nearby students remind you that you’re all enamored by the same person.

It is these specific moments that have you grasping the reality of how different you and Hyunjin are. It dawns on you like a cold bucket of water, you didn’t think about it much, didn’t think about him much but it’s like when you see him you can’t stop. Every time you see him you know he will haunt your mind for a few nights after. Perhaps that’s why your steps had come to a stop. Hyunjin had once again managed to filch attention you weren’t willing to give but that was just the kind of person he was. He easily captured the attention of everyone around him, admiring him. That’s the thing with Hyunjin, it was so easy to admire him. And maybe that’s why you had made it a challenge with yourself to be different. To not be a person who waits around the corner just to steal a look at him.

When Hyunjin notices you, eyes widen in gleam and a beam on his face. You don’t think about how fast you fail. And when he waves at you from a distance. A scene so strikingly familiar it has you confused. Your challenge collapses as fast as it comes, lying pathetically by your feet as you wait, just like every other admirer you wait as Hyunjin says something to his teammates. Two of them you recognize because they’re always around him, Lee Felix and Kim Seungmin. You had smiled at them, in attempts to be friendly and kind. It was part of your building reputation after all.

Back then, you were once again proven to be naïve. Constantly pushed into the shadow as destiny liked to fuck with you. You didn’t know it back then, that soon enough Kim Seungmin, the Seungmin you smiled so willingly at would be the same person who’s aiming a blade at you, you didn’t know the amount of pain he’d inflict on you.

Hyunjin is jogging towards you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he isn’t fast enough, his soccer uniform is a tad too big on him. His lithe body leaves space.

“Song Y/N.” he’s out of breath when he’s next to you, sweat rolling down his exposed forehead as he grins at you.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You greet back as usual.

“I didn’t know you were watching me.” His hand starts wiping away at his sweat, brushing through his hair multiple times as if he’s suddenly feeling self-conscious about his disheveled appearance. It has smile tugging at the corner of your lips “I was just passing by,” you explain lightly, a palpable tension oozes around you the longer he keeps his eyes on you. His stare burns as hot as the sun above.

“Nice ears by the way,” he comments, eyes flickering to the top of your head, and you subconsciously reach for it, your hand touches the fake fur of your cat ears that you had completely forgot you put on. Your face burns in embarrassment while his eyes light up as if witnessing a rare scene.

“My class is doing a cat slash zodiac café thing.” You fumble with your words to explain, your nerves show in the way you go back to capping and uncapping the lid of your pen “sounds like a lot, Y/N.”

“It is.” You answer shortly and he hums into the momentary silence “what’s your zodiac sign?” he suddenly asks and you’re thankful for the change of subject, you show him your wrist, the symbol of your sign your group had drawn for you.

“What’s yours?” you ask, tone curious and gentle. Feels like feathers against his skin as he swallows back nothing “not sure, I was born on the 20th of march.”

“Ah, you’re a Pisces.”

“What does that mean?” he wonders, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“That you’re a sensitive baby.” You let a playful smile climb to the corners of your lips, lifting over the wall of slight awkwardness that stays around you two. He pauses at the glimpse of it, his own lips quirking upwards, and he rolls his eyes “are we at least compatible?”

“I think we might be the worst match out there.” You reply, giggling faintly. Hyunjin watches you, a garden of flowers blossom in his throat, taking every word he could say back to you. Your softness is prodigious, delicate in ways he wasn’t aware of.

“I have to go.” You say after a while and Hyunjin blinks rapidly, realizes he had done nothing but stare at you like a fool.

“Wait,” his voice is hoarse, his hand that stop you only touch you for a mere minute before he retracts it, it leaves you burning for more “Can I uh-“ he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand, eyes lolling everywhere “Can I have your Instagram or something?”

“I don’t really use Instagram.”

“oh.” Hyunjin’s eyes drop in disappointment, so glaringly obvious and you feel like a criminal who had stolen his light. Maybe you felt sorry and maybe that’s why you decided to light a match for him.

“I can give you my number instead.”

Was it then? That your heart had decided to surrender? Or was it when he messaged you for the first time that night with a link to an article, talking about how your signs are in fact compatible.

When was it exactly that you had become a willing victim of his?

On the last night of your summer break you saw Hyunjin again, passing by a skate park in your off white vintage two-piece your mother had picked out for you, your heels leaves a dull ache in your body leaving a trail of disappointment behind you with every step you take, evidence of another failed blind date your mother had set you up on.

“Hwang Hyunjin.” You had spoken first that night and he froze, a cigarette mid-way to his lips as he stared at you in complete awe. As if he couldn’t believe you were real, as if you were a mirage and you were gonna be gone if he blinks. You looked so beautiful to him, you always did. You were the only person capable of making his breath hitch.

“Song Y/N.” he says breathlessly “Wow! You look amazing,” his eyes rake over you appreciatively, you were incredulously pretty. A goddess that threats to steal his remaining sanity.

“Thank you,” you mumble, something akin to relief had spread through your body at the sight of him, you hadn’t realize how rigid you were until your eyes met, melting the tension in the folds of your feature with a single glance of his.

Have you already surrendered?

“Back from a date?” he asks clearing his throat after noticing how hard he was staring at you, he twirls the white stick of poison between his fingers. How lucky, you can’t help but think.

“A blind date,” you specify “it was horrible.” You trail off, eyes fliting to his group of friends behind him before they’re back on him.

You’re not sure of what kind of expression you had on, not sure if Hyunjin had maybe pitied you. If maybe he felt nicer than he’d like and that’s why you ended up sitting next to each other on the beach. He lent you his dark flannel and you used it to cover your bare legs. Your shoulders bump as he splits his sandwich in half and hands you the bigger piece. Your heart was beating wildly, the warmth of his shoulder somehow spreads through your entire being leaving you wondering how could a single person radiate this much warmth?

“It’s kinda spicy,” he says through a bite, acting so naturally and it’s unfair the way he leaves you caught between his dark eyes and his nice gestures.

“I like spicy food,” you retorted taking a bite from your own half, he hums, watches as you chew and doesn’t look away until you’re nodding in satisfaction.

“So, how bad was your date?”

“It had me questioning if I’m even attracted to men. That bad.” Hyunjin chuckles but doesn’t say anything, he looks captivated by you. Watches the way your fingers wipe off the corner of your mouth despite it being clean, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear. The way you hum in delight as you take another bite of your sandwich, the sullen expression you had earlier is nowhere in sight. Was it normal to be this interested in such small mannerism? He felt peculiar.

“Do you think soulmates exist?” You ask after a while of silence, tone soft and content and your food is long gone.

“My answer is a little complicated.”

“Tell me, “You say, turning to look at him as you lay your head on your bent knees. He sees the moon in the flickers of light in your eyes. How exceptional you are, stealing the attention of the great moon. How could he ever not be defeated by you?

“I do think soulmates exist, but I don’t everyone is lucky to meet their own.”

“How come?”

“I just don’t think it’s not realistic for everyone to meet their soulmate. Not everyone can be lucky and happy that’s not how the world works.” He replies with a shrug, mirroring you as he leans his head on his knees. The sound of the waves fills the empty spaces between your words “What about you? Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I don’t,”

“Why?”

“I don’t know I just don’t think they exist. I don’t believe in forever and all that other stuff.”

“You don’t think someone is gonna love you forever someday?” he asks, tone soft and faint. And somehow it feels like there’s no room in your heart anymore for oxygen. It’s all taken by him. And you’re suddenly consumed by him without realizing it. His delicacy waters your heart, it’s in the flannel on your legs, in the scent that had now stuck to your body and it’s in the food you shared. His tenderness was unwonted for you.

Is that why you craved for more? Is that why you wondered if you could just fall?

“The idea of loving someone forever sounds ridiculous.” Hyunjin never said anything back to that, a tranquil hush had fallen over you two. Both of you quietly gaze at each other, entranced by one another. And a foolish little sparkle had formed in the middle of your heart, spreading its light through your being and birthing even more sparkles into your soul.

Was this another a test by destiny you failed or was it possible for him to fall too

Hyunjin had lingered by your doorstep that night, swaying on his feet. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against you. And his flannel is now around you. His scent mixes with yours, leaving you feeling intoxicated.

“What?” you asked with a hint of a smile. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes vulnerable as they stare you down. “I’m just feeling somewhat sad.” he makes no attempt to conceal it.

“Why?” your voice sounded as frail as your swaying feelings.

“I don’t know. I guess I regret spending the entire summer chickening out when everyday could have been like today.”

Back then you had found his sadness to be indiscreetly foolish . It’s not like you were gonna dissolve into thin air. You had next summer and the one after. You had the upcoming winter and the one after. You had so much time coming or at least that’s what you thought. You wonder if Hyunjin felt it, if he felt your time running out already and just like you, he had desperately tried to clutch onto it. To squeeze himself into every passing second where you coexisted in the same space.

You didn’t know it then, that your own words would return to you tenth fold. You didn’t know that the words you spoke ever so causally were gonna be your dreading reality. You didn’t know you’d break down to the point where you’d hold on to a sliver line of hope wishing for it to someday bleed into the forever you once said you didn’t believe in.

You were constantly at the edge of your seat, every time Hyunjin had turned his back to you it left you drowning even more and wondering if tomorrow he’s gonna be there. You had prepared yourself all this time and yet when Hyunjin turned his back to you for the last time. It broke you.

The sliver of hope had ended up killing you.

Looking back at it now you think that your sixteenth summer might have been the last moments of your sincerity, the last few moments before change had barged in, breaking your door down and taking place in you to turn you into something you weren’t able to escape. a snake that you pretended to like being in the skin of.

On the morning of your 17th birthday the planets had shifted and just like always you were a pawn in this game fate liked to play. your fairytale like arc had ended. To commingle into something new, an agony that had spreads its roots into your life. Vow to not never leave unless it made a mark on you, unless it sucked the life out of and diluted you to nothing but an immense penumbra.

You were taking a stroll outside on your bicycle, the wind dancing its way in your hair. A cool breeze that draws a smile on your face settling into a peaceful warmth in the center of your chest. You hadn’t anticipated the break of it all. The dull darkness that had replaced every sense of and shape of light you had ever known. It all came in sudden waves, seeing your dad’s car parked three streets away was a surprise that had soon melted into curiosity as you inched closer to look. You didn’t think of why, didn’t think about the consequences. You were naive and that became your downfall when you peeked inside the car and saw your dad with another woman, your dad kissing another woman, your dad’s hand in another woman’s hair.

That morning you had experienced your first heartbreak, and it was caused by no one other than your own father.

“Make a wish Y/N.” your mother said, placing the sugar free vanilla cake she had purchased two days ago, and you ended up seeing in fridge in front of you. You didn’t feel happy, not an excited bone in your body. Instead, all you felt was betrayal and rage, melting into liquid to run through your veins. It transmitted through your eyes, sharp as they glared at your father who sat across of you. Sipping on his coffee.

“Go on.” Your mom urged you with a push to your shoulder. You stared at the candle, your heart catching on fire alongside it. You close your eyes, you draw in a deep, shuddering breath. And you blow on it. Your mother doesn’t clap and neither does your father. He’s scrolling through his phone and your mother takes the cake from in front of you.

“I’ll give you a piece after dinner.” She says and you wordlessly nod. Fresh pain swims in you the longer you look at him, the longer you notice how indifferent he looked. Was a guilty man supposed to be this relaxed? Did he even care? Just for how long he has been doing this? The questions overwhelm you, leaving you feeling choked.

Your phone’s screen lights up and your eyes flicker to the coming message.

Hyunjin: Meet you at our spot in 5? I have something I wanna give you.

“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up from your seat with one last glare sent your father’s way.

“What? Dinner’s almost ready. Where are you going?” your mother scolded, followed you as you were putting on your shoes “I’m seeing Hyunjin for a bit.” You explained frigidly, not letting her huff of annoyance affect you.

“Again? All you do is spend time with that Hwang kid! I told you a million times he isn’t good-“you close the door shut with a slam.

Once you see Hyunjin standing on the beach, his back to you as he stared at the sea immersed in the crashing waves, you felt the same waves crash against the walls of your heart. Washing it into a tempest of blues that you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling. It wraps around your ankles and drags you down, threatening to make you one with the sand. Taking wobbly steps to him, you wish it would happen.

“Hyunjin.” You call once you’re close, once you’re in an appropriate distance for your heart not to jump and attack his. He turns around and your heart is weaker than you hope for. Jumping out of your grasp and into him.

Please give it back.

“Y/N!” his voice is airy, light enough to blend in with your blood, light enough to have you wishing he was running through your veins.

“Hey.” You breath in faux cheerfulness, a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes but he doesn’t get to dwell on it because with three quick steps he’s in your presence, destroying your safe distance as he pulls you into him with a hug, arms around your waist. His scent invades your space and your fingers desperately clutch the fabric of his white shirt, tears brimming in your waterline.

When he pulls back, his cold hands are cupping your cheeks. It has goosebumps and tingles littering along your spine. “what’s wrong?” he asks gently, his concerned eyes search your own. Letting loose, your tears fall like a waterfall that can’t be stopped “I’m just overwhelmed.” You chuckle, humorlessly.

“About what?”

“I’m getting old,” you sniffle and Hyunjin is smiling, a comfort he doesn’t know he can provide “you’re an idiot Y/N.” he shakes his head at you, and you agree.

“Well hopefully this will cheer you up.” He tells you, eyes glinting with happiness you wish to never leave him, you wish for him to always shine this brightly and maybe that’s why you didn’t tell him back then, the burden you carried felt too heavy for his softening gaze. You watch as he reaches in his pocket, he gauges your reactions as he pulls out a silver chain, a bracelet. Eyes dancing with overflowing emotions as he clasps it around your wrist.

You look at it only to realize that the letter ‘H’ dangles at the end of it, he raises his own wrist to show you a matching chain around his, your initial dangles from it “We’re matching.” He tells you with a grin and just like that Hyunjin had once again managed to pick the broken pieces of your heart and glue it together with emotions you shouldn’t feel.

You bury your face in your hands, overwhelmed and stolen away again by his charm. He had pulled you from the sinking sand under your feet and into his embrace instead. Wrapping you into the delicacy you run away from only to end up drowned in.

The day you turned seventeen your serial mendacious had began with two lies, the first was a witless venture to protect your family. You thought if you kept quiet then you could save them maybe someday, you’ll be able to mend them back together. It was an idiotic idea.

The second lie didn’t matter because you were certain Hyunjin would never feel the same way about you. It was an idiotic idea to explore as well. How could the sun possibly be attached to a dying speck of light?

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