#so you guys please scroll down my rambling

[evie-sturns]

Please - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've never been interested in sex, not until you met your boyfriend matt. when you ask him to take your virginity he obviously gives you what you ask for.

contains: virgin!reader, gentle!matt, virginity loss, fluff, smut, aftercare, fingering.

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i'm a virgin, it's not like i have a real reason for it, but i've never found a guy i could trust.

matt and i have been dating for 2 months and we've done just about everything, execpt for hooking up. matt's never pushed me to do anything which i appreciate. but now that i've got to know matt i've been craving him, his touch.

7:29pm

i cuddle close to matt's side in bed as i stare at his phone, i watch him scroll through tiktok aimlessly.

i look up at matts side profile, a light stubble spread across his jaw. his blue eyes are locked on his screen.

i move my leg over matt's, shifting closer to him so my crotch is pressed against the side of his leg.

i sigh lightly, closing my eyes as i feel a heat grow between my thighs.

it's the way matt's lips are red, almost begging to be kissed that turns me on.

i don't even realise it, but i'm pathetically rubbing my clit against his leg.

"you okay sweetheart?" matt whispers from above me,

"what-? no i'm fine." i play it off,

matt places his phone down before shifting up, his back resting against the headboard.

matt grabs me under my arms and drags me up onto his lap, i straddle him and look down at him

matt just stares into my eyes like hes waiting for me to say something.

"matt.." i mutter, fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants.

he looks at my lips, nodding understandably.

"i think that i want you to touch me, i- i need you." i say softly,

matt rubs his eyes, hes clearly flustered.

"what?" he says with a small laugh.

"matt don't make me say it again." i sigh, reaching my hands up and covering my face.

"tell me what you want and i'll give it to you y/n." matt says, grabbing my wrists and tugging them away from my pink face.

i hesitate for a second before speaking

"i want you to fuck me matt." i spit out, matt smiles lightly

"i can definitely do that for you," matt speaks, earning a playful slap from me.

matt reaches for the hem of my shirt, tugging it lightly. i grab his hand to stop him for a second.

"matt- i'm a virgin." i whisper, matt's eyes widen

"thats okay! thats perfectly fine." matt nods, making me feel better. "are you sure you want to do this? we don't have to if you're not ready."

"i don't really know what i'm doing." i mumble, matt nods before grabbing my chin, making me look at him.

i adjust myself on matt's lap to make myself comfortable.

"do you ever.. touch yourself?" matt asks quietly,

"um- i don't know." i reply shyly.

"you don't know?" he teases, earning a small giggle from me.

"yes- yeah i do, shut up-" i laugh, "how often?" matt asks

"every week or so- maybe." i whisper, matt nods before sitting up off the headboard.

he stands up, holding me up by my ass as he starts to mark up my neck with hickeys. matt lays me down on the matress and takes a step back. he reaches out his cold hand to the waistband of my sweat-shorts.

"can i take these off pretty girl?" he asks softly, i nod frantically "yeah- yes."

he slowly slides my shorts down my thighs, keeping a straight face the whole time.

he chucks them to the side of the room, i dont waste time to tug off my shirt aswell,

leaving me in my matching white lace bra and panties on the bed under matt, suddenly the realisation hits that this is actually happening. i shoot up into a seated position quickly,

"hey- you okay?" matt laughs slightly,

"matt" my voice wobbles, concern washes over his face.

"whats going baby-?" he speaks with worry laced in his voice

"im scared." i whisper out, he sits down on the bed next to me, "what if it hurts- and i'm not gonna be good at this matt- i don't know what to do well" i ramble out

"you don't have to be good, you dont have to do anything, you can just lay back and i'll talk you through it, would you like that?" matts voice is gentle,

"and it won't hurt, i promise."

i nod with a shaky sigh, he grabs my jaw and presses his lips against mine.

"right- so what's going to happen is i'm going to stretch 'ya out a little first is that okay?" matts tone is more gentle and understanding now.

"okay." i mumble, laying back on the matress as my legs dangle off the edge of the bed.

matt kneels between my legs, he gently pulls my panties down my legs while his cold finger tips trace circles on my inner thighs.

"you're gonna take two fingers for me?" matt says, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip with a small giggle.

he presses the pad of his finger against my hole, he slowly pushes his large finger inside of me.

the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of my walls makes me squirm already.

matt doesnt waste time to push another finger inside of me, the stretch burns.

i've only ever fingered myself, my fingers are significantly smaller than matts so the feeling is different.. better.

he curls his fingers inside of me, repeatedly hitting a spot which is making the knot in my stomach clench.

"matt- oh my god!" i whimper out as he spreads his fingers apart inside of me. "it feels so good-" i babble,

i squeeze my eyes shut,

my eyes instantly spring back open as i feel matt's soft lips against my clit.

my hands instantly find there way to his brunette locks, my fingers intertwine into them.

i clench around his fingers again as he curls them

suddenly he pulls out of me, edging me completley

"matt!-" i start to protest, but he shushes me

"sh- sh i know, don't want you to cum yet cause we don't want to overstimulate you baby" matt says softly, tugging down his sweatpants.

there is a various obvious bulge in his sweatpants, i squeeze my thighs together as i look at it. matt runs a hand through his hair before tugging down his boxers, letting them fall to his ankles.

i sit up on my elbows as i stare at his erection, he is big.

very big.

"matt- how is that meant to fit inside of me- you said it wasn't going to hurt" i start to ramble, matt lets out a small laugh

"don't boost my ego." he laughs while rubbing his eyes

"matt seriously! the most i've ever had was your fingers which was like- 2 minutes ago!" i whine

"you'll be okay, i promise" matt chuckles,

"just lay back for me, you can hold my hand." matt says,

holding matt's hands and fingers have always been an anxiety response for me, he knows its comforting to me thats why he lets me whenever i'm scared.

he grabs my hand as i lay back, he grabs his base with his spare hand and lines himself up with me. "are you sure?" he asks again,

"yes- please!" i say impatiently,

he presses his tip, but nothing happens. "are you in?" i breathe out, he shakes his head

matt hesitates for a second before letting my hand go, he walks over to his closet.

"what-" i whisper, he turns back around with a bottle of lube in his hand which he holds shyly.

"its not gonna be comfortable for you if we don't have this." matt says to me as he squeezes some of the cold liquid out onto my folds

he reaches down and spreads some on his length, "lets try this again" he laughs.

matt grabs my hand again before pushing inside of me, i let out a wince.

"you're doing so well, so good for me baby, you've taken the tip." matt praises me,

"do you want more?" he asks teasingly, "yes- please" i beg

matt presses further into me, my walls stretch around him as i let out loud moans, somewhat pleasured but also a mix of pain.

he finally bottoms out, a low whimper falling from his red lips. "are you feeling okay?" his voice shakes

"i- i don't know." i laugh slightly, "do you want me to move?" matt asks, rubbing my fingers with his hand.

"yes- i think so" i smile at him stupidly before matt thrusts, he does small thrusts, being careful not to go too deep.

"you are- so fucking tight." matt says under his breath.

after several thrusts the pain goes away, now pleasure coarses through my body.

"i- oh my fuck, this feels s-so good" i stammer,

"youre taking me so well, you know you are." he says, locking eyes with me.

"you feel so good around me princess, so so good." matt's voice wobbles, he's holding back everything he has to not cum now.

i arch my back with a pathetic moan, feeling a familiar feeling in my stomach come back. matt places an arm by my head, caging me slightly.

"matt- oh fuck" i whine, squeezing his hand impossibly tight. i feel matt's dick twitch inside of me as his cheeks flush red.

abrubtly the knot in my stomach snaps, i didn't even realise it was coming until it did.

i clench hard around matt and feel warmth flow through my whole body, i release with a loud scream of his name as i claw at his back.

matt pulls out almost instantly, painting my chest and neck with white, my eyes widen as i sit up, but i instantly fall back down onto my back,

"shit i- i am so sorry for that aim" matt laughs

he reaches his palm out and wipes my neck clean, before collapsing down next to me.

"i love you so much matt" i mumble sleepily.

"i love you too princess" matt grins, pulling me close to his side. he pecks my face with kisses.

"im sorry for finishing so fast, i didn't even know it was coming-" i start up, matt shuts me up with a hand over my mouth

"im actually glad you finished fast, i was literally battling inner demons to not finish as soon as i started fucking you." matt breathes out.

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@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21

[000-pawz]

tied to you (bnd legal line) ˚ · .

bnd as submissives , bnd x fem!reader , nsfw (mdni!!!), headcanons/ramble

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, restraints, collars, some degradation, slight masochism (nothing too crazy), hand stuff, oral (giving and receiving)

a/n: i think this is my first official nsfw post omg <3 this was supposed to just be a small ask answer but i think i indulged a litttllleee too much >3< also, a lot of this was influenced by their charts (once again) so yeah! thank u for ur request anon :0

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

as someone who likes to control almost every aspect of his life, it'd take a little coaxing to get sungho to submit to you. he'll only submit when he feels fully safe and thinks he can be completely vulnerable around you and sungho is most likely to submit when he's really stressed out or tense. he can get really self-conscious about relinquishing control, so he might come to you casually and try to subtly hint that he wants you to dom him. it might be when you're laying in bed scrolling as he gets home, and he just drops everything at the door and curls up to you. he melts when you stroke his hair, and you'll notice him getting riled up, nuzzling into your neck like a kitten. <3

when sungho submits, the only thing on his mind is pleasing you. i think he's more of a service top and his only goal would be to cater to your needs. he'll eat you out for as long as you'd like, trying his best not to cum in his pants because you told him not to! he likes it when you ride him, using his body as a toy for yourself, and all he can do is let you take whatever you want from him <3

sungho would like to submit to you nonsexually as well. he feels most at ease when he feels as if you are at ease, so he will be at your every beck and call. if you are hungry, he's going straight to the kitchen to make you something. he'll wash all of the dishes, do all of the laundry, and rub your back and feet if you've had a long day. he'll like it when he's able to take control outside of the house, but as soon as you guys get home, everything goes by your word.

sungho is incredibly sensitive! he loves when you worship his body, placing little kisses on his stomach, complimenting all of his hard work in the gym. he could cum untouched by you simply running your fingers over his pecs and thighs. he's a huge lover of foreplay too. when you're kissing up and down his neck, touching him everywhere except the place he needs you most <3 he'll try his best to keep his hands to himself if you tell him to, but sometimes he just can't resist. when he doesn't listen, he likes it when you push him into the bed, holding his hands above his head. he knows that he's stronger than you and can take back control if he wants to, but something about that turns him on even more.

his favorite names to be called in bed are kitty, doll, and pretty. if you whisper, "look at you, doll. you're so pretty like this. just a bit longer and i'll let you cum, okay?", he'll be sinking deep into subspace, just wanting to please you and make you happy.

he can get pretty shy when it comes to making noise in bed, so i see him biting his lip and covering his mouth a lot to stay quiet, turning his head to hide his face and stuff <3 he starts to get loud when he's close to cumming, muttering out "please please please" as he grips the sheets, his body racking with shivers.

for aftercare, he'd like bathing together with you as the big spoon, helping him wash up. he might even fall asleep as you massage shampoo into his hair, leaning in to press tiny kisses to his cheek and the back of his neck. he needs lots of reassurance as well. tell him that he did so good for you, that he made you feel good, and that you love him. he needs to hear it or else he might get really insecure and start to overthink. when it's time for bed, let him be the big spoon so he can burrow himself in the back of your neck and hold you close to him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

i see riwoo as a natural submissive. he loves you so deeply and he's willing to do anything you ask of him. riwoo definitely slips into subspace the fastest and deepest. you guys could be watching a movie when you start to rub him through his pants nonchalantly. he'll look at you with wide eyes and you'll just say, "keep watching the movie." he'll try so hard not to buck up into your hand or make any noises, but he ultimately fails because you always make him feel so good. he can't help it </3

he would get so embarrassed when you tease him in public, muttering "we shouldn't do this here" when you pull him into a bathroom to quickly suck him off because he looks so good in that outfit. in less than a few seconds of being inside of your mouth though, he's a whining mess, head tipping back against the wall, biting his fingers to keep quiet <3

riwoo likes when things are really intimate and really personal. he'd enjoy it when you hold him from behind, speaking directly into his ear as you stroke his cock. his head will be buried in your neck, soft whimpers leaving his mouth <3 he won't know what to do with his hands, so they'll be on your thigh, fisting the sheets, resting on his stomach, holding your arm... anywhere they can reach! he gets really squirmy too, so you'll have to hold him still sometimes.

he has a hard time asking for what he wants, but you know him well enough to read when he needs to be taken care of. you notice when he starts to get a little more clingy, following you around the house, kissing your neck and shoulders when your back is turned to him. if you're sitting on his lap, he'll start to subtly grind up into you, wrapping his arms around your middle, asking quietly for you to help him.

riwoo would love to be called angel and baby boy. sue me, but he definitely has a slight (not-so-slight) mommy kink, even if his partner isn't older than him. he likes nurturing partners who can take care of him, so when you say "shh, i've got you, angel. my pretty baby boy, doing so well for me", he's a goner. as i said, he slips really deep into subspace and he may just stop talking, communicating only with single words and noises. you'll need to find other ways to go about safe words like him tapping you a certain amount of times because he'll be too floaty to respond verbally.

the quickest way to turn him on would be soft kisses to his neck and ears! he gets that fluttery feeling and becomes needy quick. he's into overstimulation where you try to coax him past his limits, telling him that he can cum again, even if he tries to deny it (and he does always end up cumming again). he also has an oral fixation, so he likes when you stuff your fingers in his mouth when he's fucking you, or sucking on your boobs when cuddling. he might mouth at your skin a lot and get drool everywhere too <3

when it comes to aftercare, the first thing he needs is cuddles. he feels most safe when wrapped up in your arms, surrounded by you. he'll doze off as you whisper praise and reassurance. with a little insistence, he'll finally get up to shower with you, his body still glued tightly to your skin. (he might even get hard again just from the gentle way you wash him off <3). as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's sleeping soundly, knowing that you're always there to take care of him. <3

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

jaehyun #1 puppy sub. he's extremely devoted to you, straightforward, and never afraid to ask for what he wants. even though he can unintentionally get pretty whiny and bratty, it's easy to put him in his place! he hates it when his dom is upset at him, and he hates punishments even more, so he listens to whatever you say really well <3

in a way, he's kind of always on go-mode. he loves it when you suddenly push him up against a wall to kiss him, your hand traveling down to palm at his cock <3 if you decide that you want to fuck against the kitchen counter, he's ready, putting down his cup of coffee in an instant to please you. he loves quickies before he has to go to work in the morning, spooning you from behind as he kisses and laps at your neck, moaning against your skin. his sex drive is pretty high, so he needs a dom that can match that.

jaehyun is really attracted to people with an authoritative aura. someone who can order him around without a second thought and who he can fully submit to. he's always willing to please and simply needs to feel safe and taken care of in return. he likes to sit at your feet while you play with his hair mindlessly, nuzzle into your belly, and cuddle you face to face so he can kiss you whenever he wants. he might even wear a collar with "property of ____" on it around the house <3 loves when you tug him by his leash to eat you out or pull him in for a kiss!

jaehyun likes slight degradation too! he gets so turned on when you call him a dumb puppy, telling him that he doesn't know how to use his cock right, and he'll be jumping up to prove you wrong because he just wants to be good for his owner. he can get pretty defiant when you're a little too mean to him, though. if you won't let him cum while he's eating you out, he'll rut against the bed and end up cumming in his pants like the needy puppy he is. or if you won't kiss him in public, telling him he needs to wait until you guys get home, he gets so pouty!

he can get pretty loud in bed. sometimes he doesn't even realize how loud he's being because he just feels too good! he'll be rutting into you, whining about how good your pussy feels, asking if he's doing good, begging for more and more. he might even start crying when he gets so overwhelmed, dropping his head onto your shoulder, his thrusts messy and uncoordinated <3 poor puppy can't control himself!

he also has a habit of biting when he feels too good!!! he'll bite your shoulder and accidentally leave teeth marks, nip at the inside of your thighs, and bite your lower lip when making out. the best way to prevent a biting jaehyun is to stuff something in his mouth like a pillow or your panties to keep him at bay <3 he'll whine and complain, but he'll quickly stop when you give him that look that always makes him behave.

aftercare with jaehyun is full of kissing, snuggling, and giggles. he'll want to just lay in your arms, slowly making out as his hands travel all over your body with loving touches. he's not trying to get you riled up again! he's just very touchy and needs that skin-to-skin contact afterward. he'd want to bathe together so he can play with the bubbles and hold you against him before heading straight to bed with your head resting on his chest <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

taesan submitting will take some time. he won't easily share his deeper, more vulnerable desires unless he fully trusts someone. but when he does, all focus is on him <3 all he wants is to be the center of attention, and he likes for things to go his way, whether he's domming or subbing!

when taesan submits, he's usually in need of some confidence and care. he wants to be all yours, and he wants to be the best. he will eat you out until his jaw hurts and his face is covered in your slick, panting for air with a smile on his face as you tell him he's doing amazing. he likes when you tangle your hands in his hair to push him further into your cunt, basically riding his face and using his tongue for your own pleasure. nothing gets him off more than the thought of you using him out of everyone else in the world <3

the fastest way to turn him on is to kiss and suck at his neck while your fingers play with the hair at his nape. anything to do with his neck, and he's on his knees for you, literally. he's also really sensitive around his chest! you can probably make him cum by just playing with his nipples and pecs, squeezing and pinching them as he ruts up into the air, whining and moaning for more. <3 he likes it when you tie him up too, whether it be with rope or silk. anything that leaves a temporary mark afterward!

taesan can get upset when you're not paying him a lot of attention. if you're busy doing work on your computer, he will drop down to his knees and rest his head on your thigh, pawing at your leg for attention with the biggest pout on his face. he could be fucking into you and you'll close your eyes for a few seconds before he starts whining, leaning down to kiss you before muttering, "please, please, watch me. am i making you feel good? yeah?"

he's definitely into praise more than degradation, but he wouldn't mind being called a slut and a whore; as long as he's your slut and your whore <3 you'll have him pushed up against the wall of the shower, pumping his cock as he whines into your ear for you to go faster. "faster? you're such a greedy slut, aren't you?" and he'll nod feverishly, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he bites his lip, fucking up into your fist.

taesan loves provoking you and talks back a lot. you could be at a restaurant with friends and you'll feel his hand trail under your skirt, his fingers rubbing against your panties as you try to have a conversation with someone across from you. you'll tightly grab his wrist to stop him, and as soon as the conversation ends, you'll whisper, "what the fuck do you think you're doing?". he'll just give you a teasing smile, cock his head to the side, and say "hm? i'm not doing anything, baby." he'll be all giddy on the inside when he sees how angry you get, knowing that he'll be punished as soon as you guys get home.

for aftercare, taesan wants to be doted on. he wants you to brush the hair out of his eyes and pepper his face with kisses! he's the softest when he's like this, so you indulge as much as you can. he'll probably get really sleep really fast, so he'll fuss when you say you have to shower. he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder with his arms around your middle as you wash him up, mumbling about how you "sucked the life out of him" and you can't help but laugh at his dramatics. in bed, he'll relax once you're fully situated in his arms, massaging his scalp until he falls asleep. <3

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

leehan usually likes to be in control in my opinion, but when he is really in love with someone, he can be the biggest giver sub ever. and by "giver" in this context, he is literally giving himself to you. his main goal is to keep you happy and he'll have a one-track mind of his dom and only his dom. he'll let you pick out his outfits, what hairstyle he'll wear for the day, and where you guys are going for a date; everything will be up to you.

he's the type to say yes to everything. if you tell him you want to ride his face, he's already taking his shirt off and laying down, making grabby hands toward you. if you suddenly push him into a chair to suck his cock, he's folding his hands behind his back and letting you do whatever you want to him. what you say goes, always, and he rarely ever talks back.

leehan likes things to be a little more on the rough side, he would probably try to seduce you/rile you up to get you to snap on him. if you're scrolling on your phone in bed and he gets needy, he'll move down to trail open-mouth kisses up your exposed leg until you roughly grab his hair and tug him up to meet your eyes. he'll have the biggest (cutest) smile on his face as you push him onto his back before straddling him, wrapping your hand around his throat as you lean down to kiss him and give him what he truly wants <3

i see him as the type to want to take a lot of pictures of your intimate moments (for his and your eyes only). he'll like pictures of your hand around his neck, him on his knees at your feet, your hand gripping his jaw as you kiss him, and stuff like that <3 he'll have a private folder of them all to look through when he misses you. and please mark him up! he likes when you give him marks in places only he sees, like his hips, his thighs, or his chest. he thinks they're so pretty and he gets sad when they start to fade, so he'll shyly ask you for new ones!

leehan loves orgasm denial. you'll have him on his back with his hands above his head, tied to the headboard as you jerk him off. when you notice that his breathing is starting to pick up, you quickly pull your hand away, watching as he ruts into the air, his cock red and dripping precum. he'll whine quietly, giving you puppy dog eyes as your fingers trail down his thigh. "can i cum, please? i—i can't..." he'll trail off, throwing his head back when you grab ahold of his dick again. "you can take a little more, can't you?" and he'll nod pathetically, unshed tears brimming in his eyes.

aftercare with leehan would be pretty relaxing. a quiet bath together with the lights dimmed low and soft music playing as you clean him up, your back to his chest. he'll want to help wash you off too, his movements extremely gentle and intentional. when he pouts his lips for a kiss, you can't help but to give in, immediately taking the lead as you drag your tongue over his bottom lip. he softly moans into your mouth, holding you closer to him, just needing to know that you're real and there. in bed is when he quietly asks if he did okay, and you're quick to reassure him that he was lovely <3 he always is.

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[catboyieejeno]

because even then, i knew — l.sm { 1 }

You have (1) new voicemail from: seokmin <3 

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:58

“Hey. I know we haven’t talked in a while but… I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And… I’m in love with you, if that means anything to you now.”

✰ genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au

✰ cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, mentions of cheating, angst

✰ wc: 21k

✰ tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}

✰ navigation: {one} {two}

✰ note: this story is my absolute baby. i stared writing it one day with no plot in mind, and ended up with 45k. it's supposed to feel like a kdrama as you read it (and i mean this in every sense of the word—you will see), so please listen to the tracklist as you scroll. the songs are carefully timed in order to play as you read certain parts, but if you're not sure you're listening to the right song, part two will tell you where you should be and you will resync.

please love this story, it was written with an unbelievable amount of care, detail, and intention.

≡;- ꒰ ° one ꒱

Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies, and even then, it’s barely done right. There is no such thing as happy endings, because that’s not how things are in the real world. 

Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. He’s the kind of guy who helps old people cross the street during rush hour, or helps kids pluck their balloons out of trees so they won’t cry. He actually does like long walks on the beach, as a matter of fact, and he happens to be a casual enjoyer of rom-coms, something his other male friends would rather die than admit to. 

Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic, but that rug was pulled out from under him on a few too many occasions, and while he’s still a positive, amicable guy, he had learned that sometimes, things were too good to be true. 

For example: when he was 7, he fell in love.

His 20 year old babysitter, who his parents had hired to watch over him on evenings while they were at work, was absolutely perfect—he knew from the moment he met her, she would be the girl he’d marry. 

She was Korean, and a freshman in college with a major in business management. Every week, she would walk hand-in-hand with him to the corner store to buy him sausage sticks and sticky tteokbokki at the food cart with the money she could spare from her part time job as a tutor, since his parents would only leave money for emergencies. In return for her generosity, he’d sit still and play while she finished her homework, and occasionally, Seokmin would even pick flowers from his mom’s garden for her. This earned him a few scoldings, but that didn’t matter to him, because she was, and would always be worth it. 

Until one day, where he had promised to behave while she finished a practice test. Poor, unsuspecting, seven-almost-eight-year-old Seokmin with his cheeks stuffed full of sausage and rice cake, overheard her calling another boy (albeit a boy her age who could actually reciprocate her affection) a sweet name over the phone. He dropped everything and stomped over to her, bursting into tears and rambling on about how she broke his heart. She was fired the very same evening as a consequence of his tantrum. 

When he was 14, he fell in love again. And this time, it had to be love… right? 

A family of foreigners had moved in across the street, and their daughter, who was the same age as him this time around, would come over to study with him after school and on the weekends. She’d teach him English, and he’d teach her Korean. She was his first kiss and his first girlfriend—they lasted a reputable two months—until they moved back overseas. Apparently, her parents had only moved there for the summer as part of a work-related trip, and when they said goodbye and promised to write, little Grace revealed she didn’t want a committed, long-distance relationship at the ripe age of fourteen.

In retrospect… maybe she was right, but Seokmin would never forget the way his heart shattered. 

The only real, long-term girlfriend he’s had was a little over two years ago. They dated for over a year, she met his parents and he met her’s, the two of them even exchanged promise rings. At the time, he would gush to his friends about how he’d never met anyone as funny and brilliant as her, and how lucky he feels to have done so. 

Then, the week before his birthday, Seokmin found out she had been sleeping with her best friend for months. 

Love at first sight—true love—It was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again. 

So why, he thinks to himself, why can’t he stop looking at you? 

He noticed you for the first time last week after his car had been totaled during an impromptu road trip the day prior. Soonyoung, one of his best friends, had gotten on the subway while drinking and somehow ended up eight stops away from his apartment at an ungodly hour in his wasted state. Seokmin was the only one that answered the phone. He picked him up, but on the way back, Soonyoung tried to crawl out the window of the passenger seat and Seokmin, whilst trying to pull him back inside, had crashed into a tree.

The car was old, and he was saving up for a new one anyway. That, and the insurance gave him some chump change for the wreckage, which was more than he’d thought he’d get, so it wasn’t too bad. The biggest inconvenience he faced now was getting to and from work. 

Every night, after his shift at the flower shop, Seokmin would take the bus transit home. The first night, he only saw you in passing, because he practically had to run after the bus to catch it after arriving late to the stop. He took the first seat he could find, panting and exhausted after his long shift and the blip of a marathon he just ran, and sunk down into it. 

Since he had never needed to take the bus until now, he spent some time glancing out the window and studying the route, discovering the stop near his apartment was the very last one, arriving at nearly 10:00 P.M. Yours was the second to last one, only a few blocks over. That evening, he only barely caught a glimpse of the side of your face as you climbed off, crossing the street and strolling out of sight with way too many things clutched within your jacketed arms. 

The following night, he made it to the bus on time, thankfully, and spotted you sitting near the back, though that didn’t mean much to him yet. He took his same seat near the front, despite the many empty spots throughout the vehicle. And just like before, at the second to last stop, you walked down the middle aisle to exit. 

This time, while wrestling your books, laptop case, walkman, and coat, your headset wire had snagged on the seat in front of him. He watched as you turned around and detangled it hurriedly, your gaze barely flickering up to meet his curious one for a split second. You flashed him a ghost of a smile and then, you were gone again. 

Seokmin found himself looking forward to seeing you every single night from then on. 

He decided to start sitting in the back of the bus too, blaming his avid interest in you purely on the distorted conclusion that it made no sense to sit in the front! He was always the last one aboard, and the back had so many more seats for him to get comfortable. 

That’s what he convinced himself of, at least for the first few days. He tried sitting in a couple different spots, though he wouldn’t dare sit too close to you—he’s not that bold.  He did, however, decide after his trial and error period that his favorite seat was the far left one on the last row. Your seat was forever unchanging, on the second to last row and all the way to the right. 

This way, he could watch over your shoulder as you typed away on your computer. You seemed to be writing something personal, because night after night, you’d create paragraph after paragraph, working tirelessly to craft whatever it was that you were working on so extensively. He figured it couldn’t be just any assignment or work-related exposition. This meant something to you, and that only spiked his curiosity more. The only pause in your routine of clicking away at keys was skipping a song or two on your walkman or glancing out the window for inspiration.

He’s never sat close enough to actually read the words on your screen, but then again, that might be overstepping a bit. The urge does frequently bug him, though, especially when he notices how immersed you become the moment you lift the screen of your laptop and open your document. Every night, he watches you do the same thing, and every night, he fights the urge to strain his neck and catch a glimpse of a single word on your screen. 

He contains himself, though, on the principle that eavesdropping is wrong, and he intends to never do you wrong. 

On the sixth night he spends in his new seat, he notices about twenty minutes in when your fingers stop clicking away. At first, he considers the possibility that you may be thinking or planning your next sentence. But, as the bus nears your stop, you don’t move to start picking up your things. It immediately alerts him, and he sits up straighter as he realizes, you’ve fallen asleep. 

He’s never given something so simple so much thought in such a short time. He can feel the bus slowing down, and he can hear the brakes screeching and wheezing. Would he feel worse for disturbing your rest and making an inevitably awkward first impression, or letting you continue to sleep and possibly (definitely) miss your stop? 

Certainly the latter.

Without a second thought, Seokmin hurriedly slides out of his aisle and climbs down the two steps of the back row to reach you at your seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a light shake. You don’t budge, even when he calls out to you. 

“Excuse me, Miss. Miss?” 

As the bus comes to a full stop and the engine’s roar becomes suppressed, he can hear the music playing through the headset that sits still over your ears. With a grimace, he softly slips them off, and the action is enough to stir you awake. You blink in confusion as you adjust to the brightness of the lights inside the bus, and your eyes land on his widened ones. 

“Sorry for waking you, but,” he gestures outside, “this is your stop.” 

You look around to confirm, and upon seeing the familiar intersection and corner store, you realize what he’s saying is true.

A few things go through your head: First of all, the stranger in front of you has the kindest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Secondly, his nose is absolutely huge, and for some reason, he knows your stop, which makes you wonder where else he’s capable of poking it. So naturally, you ignore the sweet charm behind his eyes and shrug off his arm, grabbing your things quickly and booking it for the door that the bus driver has to reopen when he sees you approaching. 

You climb off and consider taking a different route, but if he knows your stop, he likely knows which way you walk every single night. You curse at yourself for even falling asleep in the first place, then drag your feet along towards your apartment after accommodating your headphones back over your ears, your walkman clutched in hand, its music swirling in your ears once more.

Because of this, you miss the way Seokmin shouts after you for leaving your phone behind, and the way the bus driver then shouts at him for holding him up. 

“I’ve got a wife to get home to, kid. Get back on the bus or I’m leaving you here.” 

He looks between the device in his hand, you, and back at the burly bus driver who raises a threatening brow his way. 

In defeat, he gets back on board and walks down until he’s reached his seat, but not before stopping at yours, or rather stumbling there with how aggressively the driver steps on the gas and sends him flying. He does a quick once over your seat to make sure you haven’t left or dropped anything else, but your phone is the only thing you forgot in your rush. 

The drive to his street is rather short, and when he does some calculations on the maps app, he discovers it’s at most a half-hour walk from his place to yours. That revelation makes him regretful, because as he dismounts the bus, crosses the street, and climbs the flight of stairs to his apartment, he realizes he could’ve run after you and given you your phone and just walked home after. It would’ve allowed him to explain that he’s not a creep, and that he only knows your stop because you’re the only other person on the bus at that hour. 

He thinks about his encounter with you the whole way to his apartment, and even at home while he takes his shower and brushes his teeth. And still, when he plugs your dead phone in, so that he can give it to you fully charged the next day. As it comes to life, half a dozen messages come in with a series of ‘dings’ from a contact you have saved as just a heart. He can’t read what the messages say because of the privacy settings you have in place, so he just silences it as more messages come in. He would have tried to let them know your phone isn’t with you, but the person with the heart alias never tries to call, and so there’s nothing Seokmin can do about it but hope tomorrow comes quickly. 

That thought brings him back to you, and as he lies down, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep because he’s mulling over the way you shrugged him off. It’s only the long day at work, where he spent eight hours on his feet watering ficuses and making arrangements with daisies and lilies, that manages to silence his brain and lull his eyelids to a close so he can get some rest. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

His shift at the floral shop had gone by painfully slow today. The hours that usually pass relatively quickly with the friendly faces of Korean grandmas that stop by after going to the market, have dragged on for an eternity. 

He reminds himself that he’s going to see you tonight and that thought gets him through the day. He’ll at last be able to redeem himself of the interaction that’s been haunting him for the last twelve hours. He even dreamt about you, specifically about the conversation going a completely different way than it did. 

“Sorry for waking you, but this is your stop.” 

“Oh, my god,” you said. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I drifted off.”

“No worries,” Seokmin would flash you a smile and help you with your things, since he had noticed your tendency to travel with more than you could carry. “Here.”

“Thanks again, uh…”

“Seokmin.”

“Seokmin,” you’d repeat, and even in his dream, he had reeled over the way his name rolled off your tongue.

In an extra effort to mend things over with you, Seokmin dips into his weekly paycheck at the end of his shift to buy you a tote bag from the shop. That way, you’d have a place to pack your laptop when you weren’t typing up stories, and your coat that you insisted on draping over your arm? It could go in there, too! 

Why you chose to listen to music on a walkman in today’s modern age, he has no idea—but now you’d have a place to store it so you won’t leave it behind like you had your phone. 

The tote bag he picks out for you is the nicest, most sizable one in stock. It’s the first time he’s bought anything from the floral shop, so the measly ten percent employee discount he got was rather underwhelming. Still, it would be worth it. He’d hand you your phone, explain himself to clear up the previous night's confusion, and offer you the tote bag as a gift. 

When he climbs on the bus later that evening, you’re sitting in the same spot as always, except this time, you’re expecting him. Your eyes flash up at him then fall back to your laptop. Subsequently, you slump further down in your seat, and Seokmin quickly realizes you’re trying to avoid him. 

Now—he had talked himself through the plan of approaching you all day, it’s all he thought about during the less busy hours of his shift to pass the time. He had walked through the process once, twice, and then again in hopes of nailing down every detail, but he didn’t once account for your very obvious disinterest. 

It offsets his mood entirely, which was confident and sociable just moments ago, and he trails down the aisle, past your seat, and to his own instead with discouragement. 

The moment he sits, it’s as if someone winded up his leg: it starts restlessly bouncing, and his mind mirrors the action, his inner monologue providing no relief for his grief. 

If he was any other rational person, he would’ve taken your coldness with a grain of salt; he’d hand you your phone, say “you left this.” and go on about his day—no, his life, as if this moment, as if meeting you, was nothing more than an insignificant scene in the story of his life. He wouldn’t spend every hour overthinking your first impression of him, or feeling disappointed that it wasn’t what he wanted it to be. And he certainly wouldn’t be here, talking himself up to the task of walking over to you once more. 

Even his own forgiving conscience is embarrassed when he readies himself to stand, chanting “Ok. 3…2…” and then sits back down in defeat. 

This goes on for the better part of an hour, until Seokmin remembers you’d be getting off soon. This realization materializes as the last person besides the two of you gets off, and the familiar buildings that are just a few blocks away from your stop come into view. At the same time, a new string of messages come in from the same individual who was writing to you last night, and Seokmin decides it’s about time that he returns your phone to you—for real this time. 

With a nod to himself, he pushes off the chair with his legs and forces them to move him over to you, where he stands for a few seconds, waiting for you to notice him. In one hand, he’s holding out your phone, and under his other arm is the folded tote bag he’s planning to give you. He can’t get his tongue to comply, making his feet work was hard enough, so hovers over you a little longer until you practically feel his eyes on you and look up. 

“Hi–” 

You slide your headphones off one ear, and he clears his throat. 

“Hi.” He repeats, “My name is Seokmin. I’m the guy who woke you up last night.” 

“I know.” You cast your eyes down to your phone and he leans it closer to you.

“You left your phone here.” 

Your lips purse contemplatively as you take it, mumbling out a quick “thanks,” and unlocking it to inspect your pile of notifications. Seokmin only clears his throat again.

“I also wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo, It’s just–”

You seem to lose focus of what he’s saying as you read through the messages on your phone, a deep frown molding over your features. The fact that you’re not listening at all trips him up, especially when he’s trying so hard to recite the mental script he prepared for this very moment. 

“Uh, I just… The only reason I know your stop is because it’s only you and me on the bus this late. So, you know–” 

As he points this out, you perk your head up and look around, as if to check for yourself that this is, in fact, true. It doesn’t ease your apprehension about him, but his kind eyes look so desperate in their plea for your understanding that, for a fleeting instant, you manage to hone in on his explanation and dismiss your suspicions about his nosy tendencies. 

“Naturally, I just noticed, and I didn’t want you to miss your stop.”

When you nod once and say “ok,” he almost wishes you hadn’t said anything at all. That’s it? That’s all you have to say to ease his discomfort? 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he didn’t almost forget, he just wanted to sound nonchalant, “I got you this since you’re always–” 

“Well, Seokmin…” It’s even better than in his dream, hearing you say his name, “You should know better than me by now that,” you point outside and the bus reaches a halt, “this is my stop.” 

Hurry up, Seokmin. “I got you this bag for your things.” 

You take it from his outstretched hands with the smallest mutter of gratitude, but don’t bother to inspect it or put it to use. You simply pile it atop of your laptop and coat with pursed lips, not sparing it a second glance. He’s almost confused about why you’re still staring him down expectantly after that, until it becomes clear to him that he’s blocking the aisle and in turn, your exit. 

Somewhat awkwardly, Seokmin moves aside, and you waste no time in passing right by him and heading for the door with all your trinkets stacked up in your arms. 

Dejection is an appropriate word to describe how Seokmin feels right about now. So is frustration. 

Even after you leave, cross in front of the bus, and make your way home, Seokmin stands in the same spot, dumbfounded. He stays like this for a few seconds, even when the bus moves and messes with his balance. It’s not until his annoyance really settles in, nestling in his bones and making his face glow red, that he manages to stomp back over to his spot and plop down. 

You are easily the most irritating person he has ever met; ill-mannered, ungrateful, rude, and downright selfish. Seokmin stopped going to therapy months after he recovered from his ex, but he finds himself regressing in the ‘self-recognition’ area at this moment. Although he can consciously acknowledge that his anger stems from your interaction not going as he wanted it to, he still decides to dump the blame on you and call you all these names in his head. Why he so desperately wants to be liked by you, he doesn’t know. Why he’s irrationally spiraling in the absence of your approval, he also doesn’t know. 

What he does know is that the next twenty-four hours are going to be just as bad as the last, and he’s going to be kicking himself until he sees you again and gives you a piece of his mind. 

Tonight, he rolls around in bed longer than usual, until the clock strikes two and he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The next day, when Seokmin boards the bus, you’re nowhere to be seen. You’re not at your seat, nor anywhere else for that matter, which he decides is for the best, because he’s able to swallow down his explosive complaints for another day instead of possibly causing a scene on the bus. 

Ha! You’re lucky you didn’t get on tonight, he thinks, I'll spare you from my lecture for another evening. 

Except the following night, you aren’t there either. 

As it turns out, you aren’t on the bus for the next six days straight. 

And instead of recovering from his emotions like a normal person, Seokmin is only spurred on, tormented and pursued by his thoughts of you. They've shifted, because now he can only help but wonder what you’re up to. He’s back to square one, wondering if he weirded you out so much that you resorted to finding another means of transportation with the sole intention of avoiding him. 

Then, he reproaches himself, his rationale telling him that surely, there must be another reason for your absence—one that isn’t at all related to him. He ponders this as he piles a few stems of lilies and eucalyptus on one another, wrapping them and tying them closed. 

“Seokmin-ah. What’s the matter?”

He turns quickly to face Ms. Boo, the owner of the flower shop and the grandmother of his best friend. On more than a few occasions, she had acted as a grandmother to him, too—bringing him lunches and pestering him about eating enough, or nagging him for not dressing properly in cold weather. 

“Nothing!”

“Look what you’re doing to my flowers.” She narrows her eyes, extending a wrinkled finger out in his direction. 

Seokmin glances down to find that his knuckles have gone white against the stem of the baby’s breath he's been unconsciously shaking like a rattle. The delicate white flowers have been pulverized, reduced to white fuzz on the arrangement he was attempting to make and the surrounding surface of the work station. 

“Ah, shi-“ She gives him a glare, “Sorry.” He quickly rephrases, “I’ll clean this up.”

As Ms. Boo straightens out some gardenias in a vase, she asks him again, “What’s wrong?” 

He takes a deep breath, reaching for the dustpan under the counter. “It’s just… Someone I met on the bus.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.” He nods, then sighs. “I just wish the conversation we had went differently, that’s all.” 

“Well,” She seems to be mustering up her years of wisdom, eyebrows raising as she fixes her apron, “You’re a handsome boy, Seokmin-ah. And you’ve got good sense. God knows you’ve got more than Seungkwan,” she grumbles the last part, and it makes Seokmin’s lips curl up a bit. “Your car isn’t fixed yet, right?”

He shakes his head, “No.” 

“So, then get back on the bus tonight and talk to her.” She insists with the assurance only an 85 year old grandmother could have. 

“I would, but…”

“And stop moping. You’re making the flowers sad. They feel these kinds of things.” She nods, feeling the petal of the lily between her fingertips. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, “Finish this arrangement and get back to work.”

He finishes brushing the white fuzz of the carnation into the dustpan and discarding it before tackling the bouquet he was previously working on with a tad more care. He finishes after deciding the pale flowers need a touch of color, so he adds a few pink roses and places it in a bucket near the front window of the store on display. 

He takes a moment to glance outside at the busy street, watching the people that pass by. Couples stroll hand in hand, and more often than not, the girls will stop their partner to point out the flowers. This was a common occurrence, and if Seokmin was lucky, the displays would draw in a few more customers than usual. 

Not today, though. As he does a once over every arrangement he’s chosen to display on the window, he realizes they all lack something besides effort. He can’t put his finger on exactly what they’re missing, but Ms. Boo was right— the plants do feel emotions—and these weren’t particularly joyous creations. 

As he sprays the leaves with a little mist bottle he carries around in his apron, he watches through the window each person that passes by in an effort to pass the time. It isn’t like there’s much to do during the less busy hours, and there’s only so many arrangements he can make when they’re all coming out dull and lifeless to match his gloom. 

So, Seokmin opts for people watching, until a specific individual catches him by surprise. 

At first, he thinks he’s seeing things. 

Not only have you stopped outside the shop to gaze and gawk at the flowers while wearing a soft, admiring look, but soon enough, the bell above the door has chimed, meaning you’ve actually come inside. 

He would greet you, as he’s supposed to do when a customer enters the shop, but he… can’t—at least not from where he is now, ducking behind the sales counter.

Before you could have spotted him, his fight or flight reflexes, or in this case just flight, had kicked in. He could’ve easily ran behind the curtain to the room where some of the flowers are stored, but then he would’ve ran into Ms. Boo, who would have questioned his reasons for leaving the counter unattended.

Then, he realizes that Seungkwan wouldn’t be coming in until later, and their other part-timer Eunchae didn’t work today because she had an exam at school.

The service bell at the counter rings once and he grimaces, full of hopeful thinking that you’d just go away if no one appeared. Instead you ring it again, and he ducks lower, until some shuffling behind him and the voice of his best friend’s grandmother gives him away.

“Seokmin-ah, there’s someone at the counter!”

There’s a pause, and though he can’t see how your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar name, he knows he’s absolutely busted because even if you didn’t correlate that ‘Seokmin’ was also the same guy who woke you up on the bus, he’d be forced to show himself before long. Ms. Boo continues to ramble, much to his dismay.

“Are you still sulking over the pretty girl from the bus?” Yeah, that’ll do it. “Ah, Seokmin-ah… I don’t pay you to sulk.”

At this, Seokmin covers his face with his palm. 

He has no way of knowing that as he’s willing and pleading with the ground to swallow him whole and spare him from the incoming embarrassment, Ms. Boo’s comment had brought a little smile to your face. You’re peering around the shop for him when you see someone start to peek out from the other side of the counter. 

First, his fingers. They land on the marble surface, and less than a second later, his dark mop of hair follows, appearing past the slope. Then, his kind eyes, big nose, and his teeth, clenched together tightly in reluctance as he takes in your amused gaze.

You cross your arms over your chest and Seokmin scoffs, shooting up suddenly. 

“This is unbelievable!” His laugh is loud and theatrical, though a touch ironic, given the whole ‘hiding-from-you-behind-the-counter’ situation just seconds prior. He doesn’t let his obvious preposterousness stop his rampage, though. In very Seokmin fashion, he commits to the bit, puffing up his chest a little. “You call me a stalker and now you go and stalk me to my place of employment!” 

“I never called you a stalker.” You say simply, and his face falters only slightly. “Nor did I stalk you.” Seokmin rolls his eyes as you continue. “Also, who even says ‘place of employment?’” 

As if straight out of a bad middle school play, which Seokmin had plenty of practice at back in his day, he regains his confidence at his turn to speak his line, scoffing again at your nonchalant attitude. Why were you so unbothered about the way you treated him? He ignores your question, and readies his next comeback.

“Yeah? Well, then how did you know where I work, huh?”

When you wordlessly turn to show off the tote bag slung over your shoulder, a few things occur. 

The color of Seokmin’s cheeks become very red, very fast. His ears quickly glow a similar shade to match. He completely deflates—letting up on his accusations and dropping the theatrics. There’s a reason he’s a florist and not an actor. 

Then, he realizes what you’re showing off—the tote bag! You’re wearing the bag he got you! You’re actually using it! He can see the wire of your headset poking out of the top, and the square mold of your laptop filling the material!

At the same time, however, his eyes land on the only design or pattern it has. Sewn in black, the bag boldly displays the name of Ms. Boo’s flower shop. At this, Seokmin smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.  

“I figured I’d find you here.” You mumble, taking a look around, “it’s a pretty place.”

“Yeah.” He nods, but he’s still eyeing you suspiciously, waiting for you to announce the reason for your visit. 

“I came to…” your fingers reach over the counter to brush off the fuzz of the baby’s breath that remained on his dark green apron, and Seokmin tucks his chin to his chest, exposing all of his chins as his eyes shift between your hand and eyes that are both set on his torso.

”There.” You sigh, “I came to apologize. I was going through a… Well, anyway, I wasn’t exactly nice to you, so…” 

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Seokmin grumbles.

“Sorry. And thank you.” 

“For?”

You swing the bag around again, “It came in handy.”

”Oh,” He knew it would, “I’m glad.” 

“Seokmin-ah… There’s someone at the—Oh, hello.” Shuffling over with a wad of eucalyptuses in her arms, Ms. Boo smiles warmly at you, as she does with all customers who stop by the shop. 

”Ms. Boo, this is…“

”Y/N.” 

“Y/N.” Both of them echo your name, though Seokmin does it under his breath, in a quiet affirmation to himself. He decides instantly that it’s perfect, and that it suits you perfectly. He doesn’t intend for it to be a Tony and Maria situation, but the way it sounds, rolling off his tongue, is seamless and simply, right.

”It’s lovely to meet you,” Ms. Boo adds.  

“Likewise. Excuse me, I wanted to know if I borrow Seokmin real quick? I owe him a coffee.” 

Seokmin hisses apprehensively, reinstating his act momentarily as he begins rolling up his sleeve to search for the time on his watch. “Yeah, well, my break isn’t for another—“

”Take him, please. But only give him back when he’s in a better mood.” She gives him a light-hearted glare as she scurries away, calling out, “every plant he’s walked past today has wilted.” 

“I plan to do just that. Thank you.” 

He makes it look like he’s in some kind of distress when he unties his apron and lifts the neckloop over his head, but really, he can’t wait to cut work for a coffee with you. There’s a little cafe nearby, and he’s almost sure that’s where you’ll be taking him. He also can’t wait to recommend his favorite drink to you, though part of him worries you might not enjoy it and consequently bruise his ego a little—given the fading but still ever-present grudge he’s holding against you.

Seokmin can’t help but prolong the act of clocking out: changing shoes, grabbing his wallet and phone from his cubby, folding his apron (instead of hanging it up in whatever state it’s in, as he usually does), while you shift your weight between your heels and gawk at him in wait. He does all this in an effort to extend the minutes he has with you. His break is fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes can’t go by if the clock technically hasn't started counting.

You stand by patiently, following him around with your eyes as he tidies up a single flower out of place or wipes his hands down on a rag. When he’s finally ready, and can’t be bothered to pretend that lacing his sneakers actually takes longer than two minutes, he joins you on the other side of the counter and follows you to the door. 

Feeling a little nervous, he clears his throat. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just go our separate ways.” 

“I do. This way, I can properly convey my apology and gratitude. You know: two birds, one stone.” 

“Those are two separate things… It’s only right that you would owe me two coffees then.” The way he grumbles under his breath unveils some of his bitterness, though you can tell by the half-hearted side-eye he gives you as he fights back a grin, that he’s really only messing with you.

So you laugh, and Seokmin feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. With a shake of your head, you turn to him, defeated. “Alright. You can get a coffee and a muffin.” 

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see your smile again, he brings his hand up to rub his chin, “Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t really like muffins.” 

“Well, then I’ll just have to stop by tomorrow, too.” 

At this, Seokmin smiles from ear to ear, tilting his head away towards the street so that you don’t catch the way he lights up at the prospect of possibly seeing you again. 

As the two of you cross the street, you notice a bus stop a little up the way, nodding towards it so he can look. “Is that where you catch the bus?” He nods. “Funny, my stop is only two blocks down the street we came from.” 

Seokmin reaches for the door of the cafe, holding it open for you to walk through. To his delight, you seem to be fascinated by the space—meaning it’s likely you haven’t been here before. He watches as you study the rustic lights on the ceiling, the shiny wooden tables, and the botany at the window. 

“These look like the ones from your shop.” 

“That’s because they are.” He stands beside you. “The owner of the cafe loves the classics. So do I. So, in exchange for a floral arrangement or two, he lets me borrow a book.”  He watches your gaze leave him to face the singular bookshelf he had gestured to, a tall collection of literary classics neatly sorted by author. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as you take it in, mouth agape as you slowly step toward the shelves. 

Not yet grasping the extent of your fascination, and with the line to order clearing out, Seokmin remembers he’s on a schedule. “Do you wanna order?” 

“I…” You shake your head, fingertips ghosting over the spine of the books without grazing them, because you know better than to touch an antique collection. It doesn’t stop you from admiring them, mumbling out a response to the boy next to you without giving it much thought. “I usually get… You know what, just order whatever for me.” 

You dig for your wallet in the tote bag, handing your card to him without tearing your eyes away from the sight before you. Seokmin only laughs and takes it without the slightest intention to use it. He orders you the drink he thinks you might like the best, as someone with a taste for the traditional things--like classic literature and walkmans--and orders himself a more sugary poison to nurture his sweet tooth. 

When he pays, he doesn’t use your card, but he wraps the receipt around it anyway so you won’t holster any suspicion that he did exactly what he did. He only checks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still distracted, and you are, ogling the books as if you had never seen anything as marvelous as the contents of this bookshelf before. 

He feels something fluttering in his chest, and he knows very well what caused it, but he pays it no mind—opting instead for leaning into the cashier who he’s frequently talked to during his coffee breaks with his caffeine crazy friend, Boo Seungkwan. 

“Hey, Josh. Do you know if Mr. Kim is in today?” Kim Jongdae, the owner of the cafe, had a soft spot for the flower shop boys ever since they helped make him a beautiful bouquet for his wife’s birthday. Then, for their anniversary and every celebration thereafter. 

Joshua shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he starts on the drinks. “He’s out for the day. It’s the little one’s birthday.” 

“Shame. I wanted to borrow a book.”

“I mean… You know you can just grab any off the shelf.” He mumbles, hissing as he nearly burns his finger with the steaming espresso maker, “Which one do you want?” 

“Whichever one she does.” He turns to you,“That’s why I wanted to ask. It’s not for me, but for her.” 

“Ah.” Joshua looks between the two of you, without missing the gentle smile on Seokmin’s face as he watches you. He only manages to look away when the older boy at the counter sets both drinks down and clears his throat. “Here.”

“Right.” 

“And about that book,” he gestures to you, “I’ll ask Mr. Kim when I see him tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” With both drinks and your card wrapped in his receipt all clutched in his hands, he makes his way over to you quietly, as if any abruptness would disturb your studying of each and every title. But you hear him coming—that, or you smell the fresh coffee nearing you—so you spin around on your heels quickly, whisper-shouting as if he wasn’t right beside you now.

“This is incredible. I’m usually at the library until I get on the bus but–thank you,” You take the drink and instantly bring it to your lips for a sip, “Even the library doesn’t have this good of a–ah, hot!” 

“Be careful!” Seokmin fights the urge to beckon his hand closer to you, but his shoulders still jolt up in concern that you may have burned yourself.

“–good of a collection–wow, this is really good.” Your shift in focus makes him hold back a snort. 

“You like it?” 

“Yes, thank you. Should we sit?” He follows you to a table by the window, where the two of you can glance out at the bustling street as you chat. 

“Ms. Boo is nice.” You comment, as you notice one of the displays from the shop sitting at the sill.

“She is. She nags, but it’s only because she cares. I wouldn’t change anything about her.” 

You wear a warm smile on your lips as you take another sip, savoring the rich taste of your coffee. “I really like my drink. What did you get for yourself?”

Seokmin’s fingers move lazily to push the cup towards you. “Do you wanna try it?”

You hesitate, your gaze flicking between his inviting smile and the drink. After a moment’s pause, you reach for one of the wrapped paper straws sitting near the sugar and salt. You peel it open, pop it into the cup, and take a sip. You seem to like it at first, but then, the overwhelming sweetness hits, a syrupy storm that floods your taste buds, and you immediately regret your decision.

Your face scrunches up in disbelief as you try not to choke on the sugary onslaught, your throat resisting the thick sweetness. “Oh god,” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Seokmin’s laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he rolls his eyes, clearly entertained by your reaction. You slide the drink back across the table to him, still reeling from the shock of it. “That’s—how can you even drink that?” you manage between soft chuckles.

“Really? It’s not that bad,” he says with a teasing grin, unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly struggling. “I’d say your drink needs an acquired taste.”

“Mine? I’m drinking coffee.” You set your cup down, now fully convinced that whatever he’s drinking is a bizarre concoction. “I don’t know what you’re drinking.”

Seokmin shrugs, his grin only widening. “Agree to disagree.” His cheeks aching from the persistent smile that seems to be permanently affixed to his face now.

You laugh in disbelief before taking a few large gulps of your own coffee, feeling its familiar warmth wash over you and effectively wiping away the remnants of Seokmin’s sugary disaster from your palate.

“So,” you begin, eyes narrowing slightly as you shift your focus to him, “how long have you been working there?”

“For a year now.” He leans back slightly in his chair, clearly more relaxed than before.

“Do you like it?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He pauses, as if considering his words carefully before answering. “It’s… I mean, yes.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I spotted some hesitation there.”

He sighs, a quiet exhale of air as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like I wanna be there forever.” His tone shifts, like he’s trying to brush off the weight of the subject, but it lingers.

Glancing down at your cup, you swirl it around absentmindedly to cool the contents. You try to lighten the mood, teasing him, “Not taking over Ms. Boo’s position in the future?”

Seokmin smiles, clearly amused by the suggestion. “I’ll leave that to her grandson. He works there, too.” He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture, but there's a quiet finality in his words.

Feeling the need to dig a little deeper, you sit up straight, eyes bright with curiosity. “Okay, so what is it that you wanna do?”

Seokmin’s smile falters just a fraction, and for a brief moment, the easy-going confidence he always wears slips. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his cup, and he looks off into the distance, his expression turning distant. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, his tone dropping low.

You pause, sensing something behind the simplicity of his words, but you don’t press further. “It isn’t nothing.” You shake your head, “It’s what you wanna do with your life. I wouldn’t call that nothing.” 

After a brief pause that consists of looking between your eyes and playing with the syllables stuck thickly in his mouth, Seokmin mumbles a single word. “Music.” 

“Music?” You echo him, then stay silent so he can elaborate. You can tell he feels some degree of discouragement, obvious in the way his shoulders slump down. His hands start fidgeting and he looks out the window again as he seems to recall some memory. 

“But it’s nothing serious right now. I mess around with my guitar and write stuff every once in a while, but… I haven’t really played since—“ 

“I would love to hear,” you cut him off, leaning forward, “If you ever feel like showing someone, I would love to listen to you play.” 

There’s a sudden bitterness in his throat (that definitely isn’t his coffee) as he recalls a slightly stirring memory. It’s not as distant as he would like it to be, despite his attempt to store it in the ‘do-not-open’ file of his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from nodding along and agreeing to your offer with some apprehension, because truthfully, you had no part in carving that scar.

Simply put: you were not her. 

“I haven’t played in a while,” he rephrases, “but when I pick it up again, you’ll be the first person I show.” 

It doesn’t take long before you start telling him about your studies, now that you had succeeded in interrogating him with a few of your burning questions, and it becomes apparent to Seokmin very quickly how easy conversation flows with you. Each word you utter is warm, welcoming, almost familiar, as if he had known you for longer than he did–and he suddenly feels very guilty for having misjudged you. 

It’s not like you know of the way he bad-mouthed you in his sensitive mind, so there really is no need to compensate for it. Even then, he feels he owes you something—like he should make it up to you for thinking such things about a person of your nature. 

He learns that you’re a student who’s majoring in English literature, with the aspiration to be a writer. The two of you agreed that he’d show you his music, and you’d show him what you’re working on—the last of which delighted him, seeing as he’d spent weeks trying to guess what your fingers typed away on your computer each night on the bus. You hate sugary drinks, that much you made clear, and you had a strong distaste for the smell of holiday candles. 

Every word you’d spill left him on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more about you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to go back to work, he’d have sat with you for the whole afternoon listening to you talk. 

But instead, you join him on his walk back to the flower shop, unknowingly having fulfilled your promise to bring him back in a better mood. 

“Ms. Boo?” 

“Seokmin-ah? You’re back right on time. There’s a customer who needs a graduation arrangement for their son.” Seokmin can tell she’s in the backroom, wrestling the hose to fill the watering can from the strain in her voice.

“I’ll get my apron on!” He calls, then spins around to face you, “Thank you for today. I liked my coffee, even if you didn’t think it was great.” 

“Good to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” 

“Tomorrow? Won’t I catch you on the bus tonight?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hopes you didn’t catch the disappointment behind them.

“Tonight’s the last night of my study group, and those usually run late.” So that’s why you hadn’t been taking the bus lately, “So, tomorrow it is. Unless you don’t want that second coffee…” 

“I do.” He insists, and your lips curl up as you reach for the doorknob. 

“Alright, then.” 

The instant the door shuts behind you, he starts counting down the hours until he can see you again. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin’s shift could not have gone any slower. Unlike any day before, the hours could not seem to pass, despite how badly he willed them to. Aside from Seungkwan’s occasional side-eyed-glares and complaints of his uncharacteristically fast work pace today, Seokmin has managed to complete his tasks for the day and more: he prepared two graduation orders placed last minute and a walk-in customer who was uncertain of what ‘I’m sorry’ bouquet to get his girlfriend, all while trying to appease potential buyers who entered the shop, drawn in by the six new bouquet’s he’d made this very same morning and displayed at the window. 

All that, and it’s only fifteen past eleven in the morning.

“What has you in such a rush? I’m like four orders behind you. Usually, it’s the other way around.” The last part is but a grumble under his breath. 

Unable to explain, because he isn’t exactly sure of the answer either, Seokmin brushes Seungkwan's suspicious raised brow off and mentions something that would pique his interest instead, in hopes of changing the topic. 

“You know Soonyoung said Chan blew him off for a date? They were supposed to go out drinking and then—” 

“And then Minji called him and he bailed, I know. Can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“And then—” 

“Slow down!” Seungkwan all but yanks the scissors from his best friend’s hands, which is, needless to say, not the safest thing to do, and puts them at his own station. “You’ve been hogging them for the last hour.” he hisses, “If my grandma comes in and sees that I’m this far behind, she’ll make me skip my break.” 

“I just need time to pass by quickly. I figure if I keep myself busy, it just might.” 

“Time doesn’t work like that, idiot.” 

“Actually, it does. Idiot.” He sneers back, and Seungkwan could not look more offended if he tried—eyes wide, lips puckered to shape a word he doesn’t quite get to say. He swings back his arm, but before Seokmin could get smacked by the handful of tulips in his grip, Ms. Boo comes bustling through, humming a mindless tune as she clutches a pen and a few envelopes in her arms. 

“Boys, I've got your pay for this week and the next. I have an appointment with Dr. Hong next Friday, so I won’t be here. I expect you’ll take care of the shop while I’m—these arrangements are lovely. Who made them?” 

The boys look between each other, and Seokmin huffs out before answering. “We both did, Ms. Boo.” 

“Good work. Lovely…” She starts mumbling to herself again as she shifts her attention from the flowers at the windowsill to the bills in her hands, counting them and separating them into two even piles. 

At Seokmin’s reply (call it an unspoken truce), Seungkwan visibly relaxes, releasing the flowers before he could ruin them and scurrying over to his grandma. “Have you been taking your medicine? You know he’ll scold you otherwise.” 

“I’m too old to be scolded,” She replies stubbornly, and their conversation fades momentarily as the door chimes again. 

“Welcome to Botanical–oh.” Seokmin’s scripted introduction is cut short as he notices that it’s you who has entered the shop, wearing a small smile. 

“Hi.” You greet him, “and hello, Ms. Boo.” 

“Hello.” She chirps, “Y/N, was it?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s wide smile, which nourished the moment he laid eyes on you, suddenly falters as he realizes the time. “Shit, are you here for-” 

“Language.” 

“Sorry,” he bows his head apologetically at Ms. Boo, then grabs your arm to drag you a little further from the pair, “I can’t take my break right now.” He tells you, regretfully. Your smile falls a little.

“Really? I was looking forward to our coffee time. Plus, I desperately need some caffeine. I’ve been reading this boring manuscript since seven.” You scowl, gesturing to the stack of papers overflowing from your bag.

That pout, the one on your lips: it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. Seokmin holds a single finger up as he scours his brain for a plan, “Wait here a second. Let me see what I can do.” With that, he turns around and speedwalks over to Seungkwan, who hands him his half of the money. 

“Here.” 

“Thanks.” Seokmin takes the bills, not quite meeting Seungkwan’s eyes as he pockets them. “Hey, listen…” His voice drops, just low enough that it almost feels like a secret. “I need to take my break now.”

Seungkwan blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What?!” 

“Shh!” Seokmin urges, his face a mix of impatience and pleading. He tugs at his sleeve, leaning closer so only Seungkwan can hear. “Please.”

“No way,” Seungkwan protests, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “I take the morning breaks, you take the afternoon. That’s how this works.”

Seokmin’s expression hardens just a fraction, the edge of desperation creeping in as he stands a little taller. “Seungkwan, I’m begging you to switch with me just this once.”

Seungkwan stares at him, weighing his options. His arms remain crossed, a stubborn defiance settling into his posture. “No way.”

With no other option, Seokmin huffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest. 

“Fine,” Seokmin finally says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll just go tell your grandma how many customers I’ve helped today and that all the displays were my doing and—”

“Okay, okay!” Seungkwan interrupts, throwing his hands up in surrender. “God, dude, you really suck. Don’t make this a habit, yeah?” 

Spoiler alert: he would.

Seokmin’s face lights up with a grin. “Thank you!” he exclaims, not even giving Seungkwan a chance to protest before his apron is untied with a swift yank. It’s tossed into Seungkwan’s arms, and Seokmin is already dashing toward the back, his shoes clacking against the floor with each hurried step.

He doesn't wait for the usual stream of complaints to catch up to him, knowing full well that they’re coming. Quickly, Seokmin kicks off his non-slip shoes in one fluid motion, leaving them in a pile as he slides into his own sneakers. 

Less than a minute later, he joins you by the door. 

“Coffee time?” His tone is playful, and you mirror it as you nod once.  

“Coffee time.” 

The cafe has a few students scattered around with their laptops when you enter. There’s also a few others, people who Seokmin knows work in the stores and buildings nearby. They stop by occasionally for their lunch and coffee breaks, but even then, the cafe is emptier than it is most days at this time. Mr. Kim is alongside Joshua, tending to something on the register, when the two of you approach them. 

“Morning,” 

“Good morning, Seokmin.” Kim Jongdae offers the boy a warm smile. 

There’s a bit of small talk exchanged between them—Mr. Kim asks about Ms. Boo and Seungkwan, Seokmin asks about his son’s birthday—until Seokmin goes to introduce you, but turns around to find you near the bookshelf once more. This seems to remind Mr. Kim of something he discussed earlier with Joshua. 

“My answer is yes, by the way.” He starts, “Joshua asked me this morning. He said you, or rather, she wanted to borrow a book. Go ahead. It’s the least I can do to repay you boys for the hard work you do to make this place look nice.” Mr. Kim gives him a firm nod, patting Joshua on the back after briefly explaining a new menu item on the screen. He walks off, and Seokmin calls out to him. 

“Thank you, really!” He turns to Joshua, “and thank you, too. I’ll get the same two drinks as yesterday. ”

“You got it.” 

He pays quickly and turns around, pausing for a few moments to admire you before taking two long strides over. When he’s beside you, he lowers his head so it’s by your shoulder and speaks quietly, so as to not disturb you. “Which one piques your interest?” 

“Which ones,” you correct, marveling up at him before looking back to the shelves. “There’s so many. I wouldn’t know which one to grab first if I could.” Your index finger comes up after a pause, “Maybe this one.” 

“Go on, then.” 

“I wish.” you sigh, and he can no longer withhold his smile.

“I’m serious. Grab it. I asked the owner for permission.” 

Your head cranes slowly over to him, eyes so wide he swears he could have seen his reflection in them.

“Are you serious?” Your voice is soft, unsure, surprised, grateful. You’re almost not sure whether to believe him or not, but when his gentle brown eyes look between you and the book, and he gives you a little encouraging nudge on your shoulder as a go ahead, you finally move to reach out slowly and pick it off of the shelf, cradling it in your hands as if it was a precious thing. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is calm but sincere, and there’s a small, almost thoughtful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you. The shelf you’d been looking at earlier, once so absorbing, now feels distant as your attention shifts entirely to him.

You blink, unsure how to respond, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself lost for words. “Gosh, I-I don’t… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He mutters with a crooked smile.

“Thank you.” You repeat the words, quieter this time.

“Anytime.” He shrugs. For a moment, the two of you are caught in a quiet, comfortable pause.

It’s only Joshua calling Seokmin’s name from across the room that snaps the two of you back to reality. You blink and suddenly remember—you’re the one who owes him a coffee, not the other way around.

“Wait, you ordered already?”

“I kinda had to.” Seokmin shrugs sheepishly, his eyes flicking over to the counter before returning to you. “Honestly, I’m more scared of going over my break time while Seungkwan is there than when it’s just Ms. Boo.”

“That’s your friend, right? Seungkwan?” you ask, tilting your head slightly. 

“Yep,” Seokmin replies. “The one with the dyed blonde hair who always looks like he’s about to complain about something.”

“That’s Ms. Boo’s grandson, then.” You piece it together with a grin, and Seokmin hands you your drink. You take it but find your thoughts drifting again.

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, noticing your distracted gaze.

“I still owe you,” you admit softly, looking down at the drink in your hands. “For the bag and the book.”

Seokmin bumps your shoulder lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to keep stopping by.” 

“I guess I will,” 

To his delight, the rest of Seokmin’s shift was effortless and quick. There was the occasional bickering with Seungkwan, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. And, for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind it as much today. Because, waiting for him at the bus stop when he arrived later that very same evening, was you, eager to tell him all about the book you had started reading. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin had never been a fan of routines. His personality was spontaneous, and so the things he did on a day-to-day basis were too. Up until now, the only constants in his life were the flower shop and his friends, who provided their own random spontaneity in the form of unpredictable weekend plans or an ever-changing work environment that depended solely on which side of the bed Seungkwan woke up on that morning. 

Seokmin gets bored easily, an issue he resolves with movie marathons or long walks or hangouts—just about anything will suffice, if it means his mind is occupied and distracted the majority of the time. 

Lately, though, a new element has been introduced to his daily life. A routine. 

A routine where, during every shift, you stop by after your time studying at the library and pick him up for ‘coffee time’ during his breaks (much to Seungkwan’s disappointment, coffee time was usually during the first half of the day). Then, you’d stay at the coffee shop reading the book—because despite Seokmin insisting that it was okay for you to take home, you’d always refuse—until his shift was over. He’d find you at the bus stop, waiting for him, and the two of you would chatter on until you were dropped off at your stop. 

In a way, he had become dependent on this routine—something he thought could never happen. It was admittedly his favorite part of the day, catching up with you, hearing what you had to say or what thoughts you had cultured after your time reading the book. And when you finished that one a few weeks in, he made sure to take some new potted plants and flowers over to Mr. Kim in exchange for another. 

And for some time, that’s the way things were. He had contemplated asking to do something with you outside of the usual bus or coffee shop pattern, but everytime he intended to ask, he’d cower and procrastinate. Next time, he’d tell himself.

Early on a Sunday morning, Seungkwan came into the shop rambling about how his Grandma was at his older sister’s house and wouldn’t be coming by. It’s not like the two of them couldn’t handle the shop alone—they had done it countless times before—but her presence was primarily longed for when it came to getting the two of them back on track. Especially on Sundays, where the task at hand was to clean, fertilize, and redecorate wilted displays. For obvious reasons, this was something neither of them enjoyed doing. 

At the moment, it’s just him in the store. Seungkwan was taking his morning break that he insisted was non-negotiable today and Seokmin only agreed so easily because Sundays are the only days he doesn’t see you. 

The doorbell jingles softly as you step into the flower shop, and Seokmin glances up from behind the counter looking for a customer or Seungkwan, his hands momentarily pausing in their careful arrangement of flowers. A surprised look crosses his face as you poke your head in.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lifting with a bit of surprise, but the smile that quickly forms softens his expression. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today.”

“Actually, I only came by to see Ms. Boo,” you tease, and Seokmin hisses through his teeth. 

“I regret to inform you, she’s not in today.” 

You grin, stepping further into the shop, the familiar floral scent filling the air around you. “I’m kidding. I was nearby and I thought I’d keep you company for a bit.”

“It’s not usually this quiet around here,” he says, his hands brushing against the flowers almost absently as he talks. “It’s kind of nice when it’s just me, but I guess I don’t mind the company.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s easy to see right through him when he’s so clearly beaming that you're here.

Your presence, standing so casually by the counter, feels like something he didn’t know he was waiting for. He’s used to the steady hum of the shop, the quiet buzz of the day, the mildly irritating sounds of Seungkwan, but with you here... it’s different. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but there’s a feeling in his chest that settles somewhere between contentment and something else he’s been trying to ignore for a while now.

Before he can dwell too much on it, the door jingles again, and Seungkwan strides in, looking as effortless as ever. His eyes dart between you and Seokmin, already catching the shift in the air. 

“Why, hello,” Seungkwan says, grinning widely as he crosses the shop and leans against the counter. “I was wondering when we’d be properly introduced.”

“You must be Seungkwan,” you say, arching an eyebrow at Seokmin, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

“And you must be Y/N. It seems like I took my break right on time.” Seungkwan continues, throwing an exaggerated glance at Seokmin. “He can’t shut up about you.”

Seokmin groans as he shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. “Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to make it sound so weird.”

You smile at the light teasing, the way Seungkwan’s attention naturally shifts to Seokmin with that familiar comfort only best friends seem to have. It’s clear they’ve known each other for a while. Seokmin, though, is less than amused by Seungkwan. His cheeks glow pink as he glares.

“Well, you are weird,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Alright, Seungkwan,” Seokmin says with a sigh. 

“Okay, I’m off to the back to unload fertilizer.” He announces and you give him a polite wave as he turns to you, “It was nice to meet you.”

As Seungkwan heads out the back door, Seokmin lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head. The shop feels quieter, now that it's just you and him. It’s strange, but Seokmin finds himself oddly aware of the space between you two.

He glances over at you again, trying not to seem too obvious, but there’s something about the way you’re standing there—easy, comfortable, but somehow still pulling at him in a way he can’t ignore. His fingers hesitate over the vase in front of him, caught in the motion of arranging flowers but not quite focused on the task.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I guess you get to work in peace for now, huh?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Seokmin huffs. He takes a step toward you, to reach for something behind you. His hand brushes over a batch of roses, then pausing as if he’s suddenly unsure of the next move, painfully aware of how close he’s gotten. He clears his throat, the casual tone of his voice not quite matching the thoughts swirling in his mind. “So, um... you like flowers?”

You tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips. “Is that a serious question?”

“I-” Seokmin laughs softly, his fingers running over the petals of the flowers before grabbing them and attempting to focus on his station. 

You lean a little closer, your voice light but playful. “Well, I like you, don’t I?” The way you say those words with a teasing tone makes Seokmin nearly choke, “So I kind of have to like flowers. Otherwise, how am I meant to hang around you?” You gesture at the shop. 

Seokmin’s breath catches, and for a moment, he feels like he’s losing the thread of the conversation.

"I didn’t expect to find you working today. I didn’t even know the shop opened on Sundays," you say casually, glancing up at him. “I’m sure the flowers appreciate the extra attention.”

"I’m pretty good with the flowers, but I think they’d appreciate the company more if you came by more often."

You arch an eyebrow, “Oh? You think they’d enjoy my company more than yours?”

“I know Seungkwan would.” You laugh at this, and Seokmin revels in the sound, joining you. 

After a pause, he shifts his attention back to the flowers, showing you the final product. “What do you think?” 

“They’re pretty.” 

“I think so, too.” He decides, not necessarily talking about the flowers, “Even though I was a little distracted.”

"Distractions can be good, though,"

"Well, you’re a pretty good distraction," he tries for the words to sound casual, but his tone betrays him. He also said it much quicker than he intended to, and he’s grateful for the chance to turn around while grabbing another pot because it offers him a means to hide his reddening cheeks. 

You let the words hang in the air for a beat longer than usual, enjoying the teasing, the way it feels easy between you two. "Good to know," you reply, smirking.

Before Seokmin can respond, the door swings open and Seungkwan walks in again, wiping his hands on his apron and immediately launching into his usual dramatic self. 

"I swear, I’ll never get used to that fertilizer smell," he complains, tossing his apron on a hook. He looks over at you and Seokmin, "Glad to know you two haven’t burned the place down."

You grin, "Not yet, but we’re working on it."

Seungkwan scoffs half-heartedly, glancing between you. "Nice to see him finally making some friends outside of the plants."

As Seungkwan heads toward the back, he gives you both a knowing look. “Don’t let him get too distracted, alright?” he calls over his shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll try my best.” You give Seokmin a wink and he shakes his head, showing you an idea for another potential bouquet.

The last hour passes seamlessly fast, now that you’re here. Before Seokmin knows it, you, him, and Seungkwan are locking up the store and parting ways from the blonde as the two of you walk side by side to the bus stop. 

As he sits beside you on the bus later that night, looking over your shoulder at your collection of tapes for your walkman, he wrestles with the invitation that sits in the forefront of his mind. Spending time with you at the shop was great, but it somehow still feels like it follows your usual pattern. That, and Seungkwan’s presence, albeit lively and entertaining, keeps him from being able to spend as much time as he’d like with you—without the time constriction of a fifteen minute break or a forty minute bus ride. But like always, he decides to ask a different question in place of the one he really wants to. 

“How come you use a walkman? I always meant to ask you.” 

“I like the way the music sounds on it. I don’t know. It was my dad’s.” You smile warmly, “He used to let me borrow it when I was younger and I just kind of… inherited it.” 

“It’s cool. Makes you look all mysterious. Like you’re from a different time.” 

“You think?” He nods fervently, but your shoulders still sink in doubt as you fumble with the multicolored tapes. “Everything sounds nicer on it. When you listen to music on it, it’s like a mini time-machine. Or, it might just be me, I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure it’s not just you. Here, let me try. Pick one for me.” 

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a second as you ponder which song to play. Delicately, your fingers brush over each tape, hovering in thought like they had with the books on Mr. Kim’s shelf, until you finally land on one.  

“It’s my favorite.” You tell him shyly, “I think you’ll like it.”

Carefully, you pull the cassette out of its case and click it into the audio player with a low snap. Seokmin watches as your hands slip the headset off from around your neck, watching as you shift in your seat and place them gently over his head. He tries not to think about how close your face is to his but… how can he not? You’ve leaned in to ensure that both spongy cushions are perfectly sat over his ears, and now you’re only a few inches away—close enough that he can catch the faint scent of your shampoo. It lingers, soft and floral, wrapping around him like the embrace of something he hadn’t realized he’d miss until you finally sat back, asking “ready?” 

You press down on the play button and look up at him, eyes full of expectation.

There’s that familiar, comforting crackle of the cassette winding into motion, a sound that makes Seokmin feel as if he’s in an old-timey dream. And then, the music starts: your song—your favorite song—something you had chosen specifically for him to hear. Every note feels warm, intimate, melodic. For some reason, it temporarily diminishes his burning curiosity about you, but not because he finds himself any less intrigued, but because it finally feels like he’s taken a real peek inside your mind.

As someone who loves music, Seokmin is a firm believer that a person’s favorite song says a lot about them. The more it plays, the more he realizes that this song, in every sense of the word, is an extension of you. 

As the melody flows, you watch him, eyes studying his reaction with that same teasing smile. You lean closer again, and he subconsciously holds his breath as you whisper, “Do you hear it?” He nods.

There’s a warmth in it, a rawness that makes it feel like more than just music. This was something deeply yours, a piece of your world that you were letting him in on, if only for a few minutes.

He listens with his eyes closed, letting himself drift along the rhythm, feeling the weight of each tone and key change and lyric the artist sings, full of intention. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds you still looking at him with a kind of question in your gaze, a quiet hope. The song fades out, but Seokmin keeps the headphones on for a second longer, letting the last notes dissolve into silence. He looks up again, meeting your gaze. 

For a moment, he’s not sure what to say. Anything he could say feels too small, too plain for what he wants you to understand. So he starts with the only words that come out easily, his voice low and sincere. “I… I think I get it.” He pauses, then adds, “And this song… it feels like you.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, a playful gleam in your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask, though there’s a softness in your tone, like you’re hoping he’ll really answer.

He glances down at the walkman, watching your thumb tracing along the edge as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just… this song is so warm. It’s like the way you laugh, the way you make everything feel a little bit lighter.” He feels his cheeks warm but keeps going, his words coming out before he can second-guess them. “It’s like a piece of you, and I can feel it, even with my eyes closed.”

You go still, your expression shifting, the playful smile that played on your lips softening into something more serious. Neither of you say anything for a moment.

The bus begins to slow, and you both glance out the window, realizing this is your stop. You reach up, fingers brushing his ear as you gently pull the headphones from him, careful not to disturb the sense of closeness still hanging in the air. You slide the walkman back into your bag, a little slower than necessary, as if that might make the night last, if just for a few seconds longer.

“This is me,” you say softly, feeling the finality in the words as the bus comes to a gentle stop and the doors sigh open. You start to stand but pause, glancing down at him one last time. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, as if he’s searching for the right thing to say, something more than just “goodbye.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, your voice soft, almost hopeful.

He nods, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah,” he says, gentle but certain. “Tomorrow.” You’re about to turn around when he adds, “but not here. I want to go somewhere else with you. I mean, if you want to, that is.” He finds his breath catching again, “The flower shop closes early on the weekends. I was thinking... Maybe we could go to the beach?”

With a grin playing on your lips, you nod, “Yeah. I’d like that.” 

Giving him one last glance, you turn and step off the bus, feeling the warmth of his gaze linger behind as you walk down the street. As the bus pulls away, you catch his face framed in the window, waving until you’re out of sight. And though the music has stopped, the tune of this moment plays on, promising something to carry with you both until tomorrow. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

The sky stretches out in a hazy blue as Seokmin walks toward the beach, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against its side as he looks around, hoping to spot you before you see him.

He barely slept the night before, having spent the better part of the morning hours contemplating and talking to himself with his guitar on his lap. It hadn’t been touched in nearly a year and a half, so he had to spend some time wiping it down, re-tuning it, and even fixing a string that had managed to come loose in the process.

He said he’d play for you, but then again, he hadn’t played for someone in a while and naturally, that made him extremely nervous, though that feeling didn’t even fully capture what he felt when he remembered he’d be playing for you. What would you think? Did you actually mean it when you said you wanted to hear him play? Or was that some automated response to boost his spirits? Would you even remember? It was weeks ago, on the first day at the coffee shop. Needless to say, he mulled over it endlessly.

Seokmin sighs, trying to calm himself down. By now, he had to slip off his shoes that were sinking in the cool sand, so he chooses to focus on the sensation of it against his skin instead of overthinking any longer. 

He finally spots you standing by the water, arms wrapped around yourself as a light breeze blows through your hair. When you turn and see him, your face brightens, and that smile of yours—bright and open—fills him with warmth instantly. “Is that—” you begin, your eyes widening as you notice the guitar.

“Thought it was time,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal despite his heart thundering as he sets the guitar down and dusts off a spot in the sand beside you. You sit next to him eagerly, your excitement spilling out in the way you lean closer, eyes sweeping between him and the guitar case, as if you’re finally being let in on a long-held secret. And, in a way, you are. 

He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the cool sand. He watches you rummage through the tote bag beside you, and a curious smile tugs at his lips.

“You came prepared,” he chuckles, watching as you pull out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches and a small container of fruit.

“Of course I did,” you say with a smile, offering him a sandwich and holding out the fruit container. “I figured we’d get hungry eventually.” You shrug, glancing out toward the waves. “Besides, I thought it would be nice to have a little picnic.”

Seokmin accepts the sandwich with a grin, unwrapping it and taking a bite. He’s pleasantly surprised by the fresh crunch of lettuce and the perfect balance of flavors. “Did you make these?” he asks between bites, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, a bit of pride flashing in your eyes. “I did. You think I’d risk buying store-bought for a beach day?”

“Touché,” he laughs, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit container you’ve placed between you. “Honestly, this is already ten times better than what I packed.” He gestures vaguely to a plastic bottle and an uninspired granola bar that now seem almost laughable compared to your carefully prepared spread.

The sun has settled lower in the sky, casting the beach in a soft, golden haze. Seokmin leans back, resting his hands behind him as he glances over at you, a lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The two of you have polished off the sandwiches, and now the empty wrappers lie folded beside the fruit container. He pops one last grape into his mouth, savoring the refreshing sweetness as he watches you tuck the food away with a little, satisfied sigh.

“So, did I earn any points for bringing the snacks?” you tease, dusting a few crumbs from your hands before looking over at him expectantly.

Seokmin laughs, squinting a little in the sunlight as he tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I’ll give you extra points for the sandwiches. But for the fruit,” he says, grabbing a couple of the last grapes with a mischievous smile, “I think you’ll need to try a little harder.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, leaning back beside him. “You’re just mad you didn’t think to bring anything.”

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing as he looks out at the waves. “But next time, I’ll bring something better.”

“Alright, big shot,” you say with a smirk, crossing your arms. “What’s on the menu then? A charcuterie board?”

“Definitely,” he says, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “Maybe even some tiny, fancy desserts, the ones that look way too pretty to eat.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to impress someone.” You raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air just long enough that Seokmin can’t miss the playful edge in your tone. Not like he could have missed it anyway, with the way he hangs on your every word. 

He laughs again, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks. “Hey, I’m just saying I know how to put together a memorable picnic,” he says, attempting a casual shrug. “But, you know, only if you’re there to witness it.”

You grin, unable to help the smile that breaks through at his subtle, almost shy attempt at flirting. “I’d hate to miss such an extravagant spread,” you reply, matching his casual tone with your own. “Guess you’ll have to invite me.”

Seokmin pretends to think it over, tapping his chin. “Hmm, alright, you’re in. But no backing out,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m holding you to this.”

There’s an ease between you, a lightness in the conversation that feels effortless, and for a while, the two of you just sit there, chatting about nothing and everything. He asks you about your favorite places to visit and listens as you share stories about the other hobbies you have. In return, you ask how he met Seungkwan, and he tells you about him and Soonyoung, recounting each memory he has made with them with an enthusiasm that makes you feel like you were right there with him.

Then, as the conversation dips, he glances down at the guitar case beside him. He reaches for it almost absentmindedly, brushing his fingers along the edge of the case, but there’s a faint look of hesitation in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“You don’t have to, even if you brought it all the way out here. It’s up to you.” 

Seokmin lets out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away. He’s more grateful for your patience than you could ever know. 

 “Yeah… I haven’t really played in a while,” he admits, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s been over two years, actually. I brought it… Well, because I think it’s about time I get back into the habit.” He trails off, watching the waves again, his mind flickering to a different time, a different place, one he’s not sure he’s ready to revisit.

There’s a quiet understanding in your eyes as you nod. You don’t press him, don’t ask for more details. Instead, you just let the silence stretch out between you, the sound of the ocean filling the space where words might have gone. It’s almost as if you’re giving him permission to take his time, to decide for himself if this is something he wants to do.

After a moment, he takes a breath, exhaling slowly. “I used to play a lot, actually,” he says, almost to himself. “Just… haven’t felt like it in a while.”

The air feels thick with unspoken things, but Seokmin pushes past it, fingers brushing the guitar case almost impulsively. The weight of the past lingers for a second, but with a quick glance at you, he lets go of the hesitation clinging to him. This is different, he reminds himself. This isn’t for anyone else, no memories he needs to cling to. Just the open beach, the sun dipping low, and you, waiting beside him with a patient, easy smile.

He pulls the guitar from its case, its weight grounding him, though it feels different today than it had last night. It’s less scary, now that he’s with you. 

He glances over at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, your eyes wide, leaning just close enough for him to catch the faint, floral hint of you drifting in the salt-laced air.

Seokmin strums the first couple of notes, letting the music rise and blend with the gentle crash of the waves. His fingers move on instinct, but his mind is all on you, capturing every little reaction—the way your eyes soften, the way your shoulders relax, reassuring him that his music is something you’ve been waiting to hear. He’s suddenly very relieved.

“I wrote this a few years back. It’s… Well, yeah. I think the lyrics speak for themselves.” 

It takes a few seconds and one or two badly played chords for him to regain a little bit of the confidence he had lost some time ago. But his fingers find their place quickly enough, and he parts his lips to sing. 

As Seokmin's voice fills the space between you, soft and hesitant at first, he notices the subtle shift in your expression. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, brows lifting in quiet surprise as if you hadn’t really expected him to sing so well. There’s a moment of stillness, only filled with his voice, warm and unpolished, floating in the air.

Your gaze flickers to and from him, watching the way his lips move to form each syllable, and then back to the water, where the waves blur in a streak of light. You can’t help but notice the way his face softens when he sings, his features loosening as he melts into the words. 

You look back at him, your lips parting in surprise. There’s a shy kind of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth, like you're unsure if it’s okay to smile just yet, but the quiet joy you feel is evident in the warmth that floods your chest. You tilt your head slightly, caught between admiration and a soft, disbelieving smile.

I should’ve told you I’m in love with you

Then I wouldn’t have been regretting right now

The longer you listen, the more the words he’s written seem bound to him, something like an itch he couldn’t reach. You find your lips curving upward again, but there’s a sad sentiment behind your smile this time, eyes full with a kind of quiet affection. Something tugs at your heart just then, causing your brows to furrow slightly. Maybe it’s from the lyrics he wrote, or maybe it’s the simple, unguarded way he sings, you’re not entirely sure.

When he looks up, your gaze meets his, soft and steady. You don’t speak when he finishes. Instead, you reach over, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers as light as the spring breeze.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and in that moment, Seokmin realizes he doesn’t need to say anything at all.

You sit back, letting the sound of the water fill the space between you, the silence stretching just long enough for Seokmin to look out at the horizon, his fingers still idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. His expression has changed slightly, distant, like he's somewhere else for a moment, lost in thought.

You turn toward him, studying his profile. “Why don’t you play anymore?” you ask softly, not wanting to break the calm vulnerability of the moment, but still unable to ignore the quiet curiosity rising inside you. “I mean, you’re really good. Why keep it to yourself?”

He freezes for a second, his mindless strumming halting abruptly. He exhales, the sound almost like a sigh.

“I used to,” he begins to explain. His voice is quiet, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Back when I had someone to play for. It didn’t work out.” He swallows thickly. “She… She had been hooking up with her best friend practically since we got together.” 

You wait, letting him speak, but his lips press together for a moment, unsure if he should say more. His gaze turns toward the ocean, but there’s a shift in his eyes, which are normally so kind and full of spirit—something like a hard edge, as if a memory he had thought of has sharpened into something more painful. “I played for her all the time.”

You can’t hide the surprise that flashes in your eyes, and Seokmin glances at you. He doesn’t want pity. He’s not asking for it.

“I stopped playing after that,” he continues, “It just... didn’t feel the same anymore. It was something I gave to someone who didn’t deserve it.” He shrugs, as if the words are too heavy for him to carry all at once.

You can feel the hurt in the air, hanging around him like a shadow. You want to reach out, but you don’t know how to offer comfort without crossing a line, so you just sit still beside him, close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough to give him space.

And at the time, you didn’t know it, but for him, it was enough. 

After a long pause, you finally say, “I’m sorry. That’s... that’s a lot.”

He nods, and the tightness in his jaw softens slightly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier. “But... maybe it’s okay.” Seokmin’s eyes flicker to you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Today felt right, you know. Playing for someone who’s actually listening.”

And in the quiet that follows, he feels something shift between you, the weight of unspoken things starting to lift.

“Seokmin,” you say, your voice gentle, as if careful not to disrupt the quiet peace he’s settled into. He can tell you’re about to say something, maybe offer some comforting words about his story, but he’s already lost in thought.

It hits him, then, so suddenly it almost makes him laugh at himself. The way the late afternoon light catches in your hair, the soft curve of your smile, the way you’re watching him with that steady, thoughtful gaze. It’s all so striking that it feels like something he’s never noticed before, and yet it feels so familiar at the same time.

He decides then, that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked. 

Suddenly convinced you might be able to read his mind, he clears his throat, feeling a warmth creeping up his neck as he looks back down at the guitar, trying to hide the smile that’s fighting its way to his face. He wants to say it—wants to tell you that you look beautiful, that sitting here with you feels like some kind of dream he didn’t know he was allowed to have. But the words don’t come out; they sit, caught in his throat, trapped by the sudden nervousness that’s settled over him.

Instead, he finds himself brushing a hand over the guitar strings again, as if that small action might keep him grounded. “Thanks… for listening,” he manages, hoping it’ll distract from the fact that he can feel his cheeks warming.

You smile, nodding gently, still looking at him in that quiet, understanding way, and it only makes him want to blurt it out more. But for now, he lets the moment stretch, watching as you lean back in the sand, your gaze shifting back to the waves. The sun is sinking lower, and everything is bathed in that soft, warm light that makes the world feel as if it’s been suspended in time. And Seokmin realizes, right then and there, that this is one of those good memories he’ll hold on to; one he doesn’t intend to forget any time soon. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

It starts with a simple conversation over coffee, the two of you tucked into a cozy corner booth at the cafe, each with a steaming cup in hand as usual. It has become the norm, seeing you like this, nearly every morning and evening. Seokmin stirs a bit more sugar into his drink despite the crazed look you give him, then glances up at you with a warm, toothy smile as you tell him about your latest read. He leans in, listening intently, nodding as if every word you say is the most fascinating thing he’s heard all week. 

When you pause, taking a sip of your drink, he takes a chance to jump in, “You know, I’ve been meaning to go to the art museum downtown. It’s supposed to have this new exhibit.” He hesitates, looking down at his cup for a moment, then back at you with a shy, hopeful glint in his eyes. “If… you’d want to check it out with me?”

You perk up at the suggestion, grinning. “I’d love that! Museums are kind of my weakness.”

Relieved, he chuckles, “Then we’re in good company,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than he intends. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, but his heart beats a little faster as you chuckle.

“Alright, Mr. Museum,” you say, teasing. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Great,” he replies, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. “How about today, then?”

With a nod, you grab your things, sliding out of the booth as Seokmin hurriedly follows, waving goodbye to Joshua. As you both step out onto the sidewalk, he can’t help the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the day with you. The two of you stroll side by side down the bustling street, exchanging small talk and the occasional smile, his heart lifting with every step closer to the city.

The walk to the museum is a mixture of laughter, subtle glances, and playful nudges that neither of you can seem to resist. The air is crisp, a light breeze tugging at your sleeves as the two of you meander down the busy street, dodging the occasional cyclist or dog walker. Every few steps, one of you makes a half-serious comment—maybe about the art you’re about to see, maybe about the bizarre mannequin display in a shop window you pass—and it doesn’t take long before both of you dissolve into laughter, your steps momentarily slowed as you lean into each other, trying to catch your breath.

Seokmin, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, finds himself glancing your way more often than he’d like to admit, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear or lift your face to the sky for a second, enjoying the clouds. He doesn’t know why he feels like a kid right now, heart skipping with each shared smile and laugh, but he can’t seem to shake it. The closeness of walking side by side with you makes him almost giddy.

At one point, you nudge him with your elbow, a light-hearted challenge in your eyes as you try to keep a straight face. “So,” you say, feigning seriousness, “ready to become cultured?”

He rolls his eyes, laughing as he nudges you right back. “Please.”

Seokmin steps into the museum lobby with you by his side, wandering across the high ceilings and polished floors. There’s almost a sacred quietness to the place, the kind that makes every sound seem amplified, even the shuffle of your footsteps. 

You hand him a ticket that you get from the booth, brushing his hand lightly, and he tries to hide his smile, hoping you don’t notice the faint flush that blooms in his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous; he always is around you, but he never knows why. Somehow today, he’s more nervous than other days. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, or maybe it’s just you—standing there beside him, glancing around with the same sort of wide-eyed curiosity that makes him want to see everything through your eyes.

The two of you wander through the galleries, pausing in front of each painting and sculpture, taking your time. Every so often, you glance at him to see his reaction to something particularly strange or fascinating, and catch him already looking back, smiling at your expressions just as much as he is admiring the art.

“Do you think they meant to paint it like this?” you ask, leaning closer to a particularly loud modern piece that’s all bright, chaotic lines. Your voice is soft, as though you’re afraid of disturbing the tranquility.

Seokmin leans closer, squinting as if trying to unravel some secret meaning, though he hasn’t a clue what he’s looking at. “Maybe they were just… feeling inspired,” he replies, lips quirking with a grin he can’t suppress.

“Or maybe they dropped their paintbrush,” you add, matching his grin.

The sound of your laughter echoes slightly in the otherwise silent gallery, and for a moment, he’s aware of how close you’re standing. The space feels smaller, and though there are other visitors around, it feels for a moment like the museum is yours alone. You move on to the next painting, your eyes bright with curiosity, and he follows, longing to shorten the distance once more. 

He notices a stray piece of hair that’s slipped from behind your ear, and without thinking, he lifts a hand to tuck it back. But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder as he pulls his hand back, a shy red spreading over his complexion. You don’t seem to notice, lost in thought as you step closer to the next painting, tilting your head to take it all in.

At one point, you point out a painting of a starry sky, something dreamlike. “Imagine being under a sky like that,” you murmur, almost to yourself, your gaze soft and wondrous as you look at the canvas.

More and more often throughout the visit to the museum, Seokmin finds himself staring at you instead of the exhibits. On this specific one, he can’t seem to look away from your face, your expression so captivated, as if you’re somewhere far away.

“Maybe one day we can find a place like that,” he says softly, almost not meaning to say it aloud. When you turn to look at him, a bit surprised, he clears his throat, pretending to be suddenly very interested in reading the placard beside the artwork.

Seokmin finds himself feeling almost weightless, caught up in the dizzying whirlwind of his own thoughts for a minute. There’s something about you—something he can’t quite put a name to—that makes him feel like he’s constantly walking on a tightrope, and with each step, he’s leaning a little further in, a step closer to letting go of the balance he’s tried for so long to keep.

You whisper an eager “come on,” and grab his sleeve to drag him further into the maze of galleries. 

As you wander into a room filled with ancient statues, he catches you examining one with a particularly serious expression. “Thinking of getting one of these for your place?” he teases. 

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Only if you help me carry it,” you reply, and he finds himself grinning again.

Soon, you reach a new room, filled with work from the Renaissance, each painting rich with detail and vibrant colors that have held their vibrancy for centuries. You lean in slightly, admiring the delicate brushstrokes, and Seokmin watches you, his gaze drifting from the artwork to the fascinated look in your eyes—possibly for the hundredth time today. 

“I feel like I’m supposed to be having some deep, life-changing revelation right now,” he whispers by your ear, half-joking.

“Who says art has to be that serious? Sometimes, it’s just… pretty.”

You’re just pretty. 

As you move through the quiet museum halls together, Seokmin catches himself watching you again, realizing just how pretty you look in the warm glow of the exhibit lights. It’s not the first time he's felt this way; he remembers the flutter in his chest when you’d gone to the beach, and the way his thoughts had lingered a little too long on the curve of your smile. He watches as you lean a bit closer to a painting, eyes narrowing in focus, oblivious to his gaze. There’s a calmness to you here, the way you examine each piece as if it holds a secret, and he finds himself drawn to the little things: the way your fingers rest on your chin in thought, the faint lift of your brows when something catches your eye, and the gentle concentration in your expression.

He watches you for longer this time, taking advantage of the fact that you’ve busied yourself reading a plaque, and noticing things he hadn’t paid attention to before right now: today, your smiles linger a little longer, your laughter rings out just a bit brighter, and he finds himself captivated by these subtleties, like he's uncovering new pieces of you with each glance. When you look at him, eyes crinkling in a way he hadn’t dared imagine was just for him, his heart stirs, and he can’t shake the thought: Have you always been this lovely, or am I just starting to see it now? 

His mind drifts, painting scenes of possibilities—fleeting, half-formed images of laughter, of late nights talking, of small moments shared just between the two of you. Each image feels almost real, so vivid he can practically reach out and touch it.

There’s a spark in his chest, a sensation that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. Part of him wants to pull back, to reel himself in, a quiet warning in the back of his mind whispering not to get carried away like he had before. But he can’t help it; there’s something magnetic about this, about you, something that pulls him closer despite himself. 

He steals another glance at you, his heart racing as he does. You’re just looking at the art around you, as though this is any other day, but for him, it feels monumental. His thoughts get lost again, imagining what it might be like to hold your hand right now, to simply be beside you without any of this hesitation.

And then, you look at him and laugh, catching him staring, and his ears go red, a little embarrassed but somehow happy to be caught.

By the time you reach the last hall of artwork, the sun has started to set outside, casting a warm glow through the large windows. Seokmin watches as the light catches in your eyes, making them shine in a way that leaves him a little breathless. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you look around.

As you both step outside into the cool evening air, he catches your eye, intentionally this time, his smile small but genuine. “Thanks for coming here with me,” he says, his voice soft, almost shy.

“Anytime,” you reply, and the word feels like a promise. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

The night starts with laughter and neon lights as Seokmin leads you through the bustling street to the karaoke room, his two friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, trailing just behind and rambling on about something indiscernible. The place is lively, bursting with music from rooms down the hall, each one echoing snippets of songs and off-key shouts. 

Seokmin can’t help but beam when he sees how easily you fall into conversation with his friends, joining in their jokes and even taking a dig at Seungkwan when he hypes himself up as the “true vocal talent” of the group. Having heard Seokmin sing just a few weeks back, you couldn’t help but feel defensive on his behalf. 

Once everyone’s settled, drinks start flowing freely. The first few songs are cautious, each of you easing into the familiar, buzzing rhythm of karaoke night. But as the night goes on, any sense of shyness melts away in the glow of pulsing lights and laughter.

Seokmin watches with undeniable fondness as you and Seungkwan bicker over song selections, and he tries not to grin too widely when he catches you belting out the lyrics with Soonyoung during a duet. 

At some point, he notices how naturally you fit with his friends—the way you make Seungkwan laugh with a remark about his questionable song choices, or how you nod along enthusiastically as Soonyoung gives a dramatic toast, proclaiming you as “one of them now.” For Seokmin, it’s everything he hadn’t realized he wanted: his closest friends getting along with you.

As the night hums along, Seokmin picks up the microphone, sending you a lopsided, slightly tipsy smile that makes your heart flutter before selecting a song. His choice surprises you—it’s one of those classic ballads that’s probably too high for anyone but the original singer to sing. The melody starts slow, and his voice flows soft and easy, but with a control that reminds you just how talented he really is. You practically feel your admiration soar, and as you watch him, his hazy, glossed over eyes settle on you. 

Every so often, he adds a bit of exaggerated flair, trying to coax a laugh out of you, playfully stretching out the notes or adding dramatic hand gestures to match the lyrics. It’s impossible not to smile, and you feel yourself relax as his antics draw you in. The song suddenly feels a little less serious, a little more fun, as he throws in a wink here, a knowing grin there.

As he finishes, you clap, unable to hide your smile. "You know," you say, a little breathless, "it’s honestly unfair that you’re this good."

He laughs, cheeks pink from both the praise and the drinks. “What can I say? Talent just comes naturally,” he jokes, a little bolder, that playful gleam returning to his eyes. Then he looks at you, his expression softening. “How about we do one together?”

“Oh no,” you protest with a laugh, shaking your head, “I can’t follow that.”

“Come on,” he coaxes, handing you a microphone and grabbing you by your hand to pull you to your feet,  “I’ll sing the verses, you can handle the chorus. It'll be easy.”

With a mix of reluctance and excitement, both of which mix together with the alcohol in your system, you take the mic, scrolling through songs until you settle on something you both know—The music starts, and the two of you exchange a grin before starting.

At first, you both sing a little awkwardly, tipsy laughter interrupting every other line as you stumble over the lyrics and try not to trip over each other’s parts. But as the song goes on, you find a rhythm, and every so often, Seokmin leans into the mic to harmonize with you, his voice blending with yours. By the end, you’re both laughing, the microphones forgotten as you clutch your sides and stumble around, out of breath and giddy.

Seokmin looks at you, eyes bright, face flushed, smile so wide that you could count his teeth if you wanted to. He reaches out, touching your hand ever so lightly, his fingers warm and steady. “You did amazing,” he says, voice soft, his smile a little shy despite everything.

“Likewise,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that’s more than just the drinks. And as you both sit there, you realize that there’s other people in the room. 

Before you even have time to catch your breath, Soonyoung jumps up, grabbing the microphone. “Move over!” he declares with a grin, completely ignoring the indignant look Seungkwan shoots at him as he stands up to join him. “It’s duet time for real now.”

Seungkwan, rolling his eyes, snatches the other mic and leans in with a smirk. “Prepare yourselves. You two are about to be outshined.” He cues up a song with exaggerated flair, and the upbeat tune starts, loud and impossible to take seriously as they start belting the opening lines completely off-time.

“They’re usually better than this,” Seokmin tells you, “especially Seungkwan. I think it’s the alcohol.” 

You laugh as you watch the pair start to coordinate with each other, finally managing to sing to the beat of the song. 

“It’s good!” You argue, “Are you all just super talented?” 

Seungkwan’s voice suddenly cuts through, loudly. “Hey! I can’t hear myself over you two!” He shoots you both a look, his mock glare breaking into a grin as Soonyoung pulls him back to belt out the chorus.

Seokmin shakes his head, laughing as he leans in closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “I warned you about them, didn’t I?” he says, his voice soft, he’s close enough that you feel his breath beside you, gaze lingering as he speaks. He’s a little past the point of tipsy, cheeks and nose slightly flushed, but somehow the hazy glow of the karaoke lights makes him look even softer, easier to smile at.

You giggle, feeling a little light-headed yourself, but whether it’s from the drinks or the warmth radiating between the two of you, you’re not entirely sure. Your eyes subconsciously bat at him as they trace his features, tugging at his heartstrings as Soonyoung and Seungkwan sing with wild abandon in the background.

Seokmin’s arm rests casually on the back of the booth behind you. “You know,” he murmurs, leaning just a bit closer, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The words are simple, but somehow they send a warmth spreading through you, making the whole room seem to slow down. “Me too,” you say, a little shy but meeting his gaze, feeling that same unspoken something settle around you.

Then, somewhere between another toast and Soonyoung’s next drink, things start to get a little fuzzy for him. Soonyoung has, predictably, taken things a bit too far, eyes glazed as he sways to the music, occasionally belting out lyrics that don’t match the song on screen. Seungkwan sighs knowingly, standing and giving Seokmin a helpless shrug. “I’m taking him home before he tries to start chugging Soju.” He nods at you, adding with a smirk, “Good luck with this one.” And then, with a wave, they’re gone, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room, half-empty drinks scattered on the table.

Alone with you now, Seokmin’s pulse races, the soft glow of tipsiness making him feel both bold and nervous. The room feels quieter, somehow more intimate, with just the two of you here. He reaches for the remote, scrolling through song choices, trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not on the way you’re leaning back on the couch, your gaze drifting over to him with a glint he can’t quite decipher.

“Do you want to pick the last one?” he asks, his voice a little more shy than he intended.

You smile, shrugging casually, but he doesn’t miss the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Only if you promise not to laugh if I butcher it.”

He grins, feeling his own face warm. “I make no promises,” he teases. But there’s something in his gaze—a hint of anticipation that he can’t quite hide, even if he tries.

As you start singing, he watches, captivated by the way you let loose, tipsy confidence making you bolder. The words are a little off-key, your voice rising and falling with the tempo, but to him, it’s perfect. When you’re finished, he can’t help but clap, cheering as if he’s at a concert.

“You sounded amazing,” he says, his voice softer than the playful bravado he’d intended. He feels a little too exposed under your gaze, a little too aware of just how close you’re sitting. 

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply with an exaggerated bow, but your eyes linger on his a little longer than they should, and the tension between you feels thick, heavy with possibility. 

He clears his throat, laughing nervously. “You’re going to put me out of a job with that voice.” But his words sound almost sincere.

There’s a lull in the conversation, a quiet beat where neither of you says anything, just looking at each other, the warmth of the drinks and the moment settling over both of you. You move a little closer, your knee brushing against his, and Seokmin swears he feels his heart stutter.

“Seokmin,” you say, voice barely a whisper, eyes bright with that boldness that only alcohol can provide.

“Yeah?” His voice comes out breathier than he intended, and he has to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

You smile, almost shyly, but there’s a warmth in your gaze that reassures him. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had��� a really great time.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. His hand, almost on instinct, drifts a little closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles.

As you step out of the karaoke bar, the cool night air feels refreshing, and Seokmin falls into an easy rhythm beside you. The streets are quiet, the lights soft and glowing, casting a warm hue on everything around you. He insists on walking you home, and you can see a bit of that familiar determination in his expression—a mix of sweetness and subtle nerves, the kind that makes him even harder not to smile at.

The two of you talk softly as you walk, laughter spilling into the night as you recount moments from earlier, but the conversation drifts into a quiet calm. Seokmin feels a little tipsy, though he knows it’s not solely the drinks making him feel this way. It’s the warmth in your laugh, the way your gaze lights up when you look at him. Everything feels a little brighter, softer, like the world’s colors are blurring into a hazy glow.

Eventually, you pause, looking over at the buildings below the hill you’ve climbed, and above them, the faint sparkle of stars cutting through the city’s glow. Seokmin stops beside you, following your gaze, but when he looks back down, it’s not the skyline he’s mesmerized by. It’s you, standing there with that quiet, contemplative look in your eyes.

At that moment, he’s overwhelmed. Something about this night, this moment, feels like a dream—one he’s afraid might slip away if he blinks too long. He wants to say something, to tell you how lovely you look standing there, bathed in city lights. He can feel his heart pounding. He’s been trying to find the right words for some time now, something that could capture the feeling building up in his chest when he’s with you. He’s not sure if it’s the night, the laughter still echoing in his mind, or just the way you’re looking up at the sky. Before he can overthink himself out of it, he takes a breath and speaks, his voice just a little unsteady. “You know… you look beautiful right now.”

It’s the first time he’s said something so openly to you, and he can feel his cheeks heat up the second the words are out. You turn to him, a bit taken aback, your eyes wide with surprise before a smile slowly spreads across your face, soft and a little shy.

The moment stretches between you, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with laughter or play it off. He’s content just looking at you, watching that glow in your eyes as his words settle in. 

A soft laugh escapes you, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him. “I was going to say the same about you.”

He can’t help but laugh, his own nervousness melting away a little. You both stand there, caught in the gentle pull between you, feeling a little bolder, a little lighter.

When you start walking again, his hand brushes against yours, and this time he doesn’t pull away, letting his fingers linger close enough that if you reached out, they’d intertwine. It’s a simple gesture, but it says everything he’s been holding back, and as you walk together through the quiet streets, he knows something has shifted.

The stone path thuds beneath your footsteps, clumsy and unsteady as you both navigate the uneven terrain, sharing quiet laughter over your shared lack of coordination. Seokmin, glancing down, suddenly stops.

"Look!" he says, his finger pointing at a small penny on the ground, glinting faintly in the light. “What’s this doing all the way out here? Take it. For good luck.”

You shake your head, amused, and explain, “It’s only good luck if it’s face up when you find it.”

“Ah.” Seokmin considers this, then immediately drops into a crouch, carefully flipping the coin over so Lincoln’s head is proudly facing the sky. He straightens up with a grin as if he’s just accomplished something important.

“What’d you do that for?” you ask, your tone laced with affection.

“Now someone else can have good luck,” he replies.

You feel something warm tug at you in response, watching him as he stands there, content with his small gesture of kindness.  Suddenly, you see very clearly the kind of person Lee Seokmin is. It’s so like him—turning even the smallest, most mundane thing into something significant. As he begins walking ahead, you linger just a moment, looking back at the coin on the ground, then up at him.

You don’t move to follow him. Seokmin halts, slightly startled, his gaze questioning as he glances at you. But before he can ask why, you step closer, closing the space between you. You’re both quiet, caught in a bubble of giddy anticipation, his eyes searching yours, wide with surprise. And then, without a word, you reach up, resting a hand lightly on his chest, and lean in.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like everything else falls away, replaced by a feeling that’s as soft as it is electric. He lets out a small, breathless laugh amidst his shock, hands stuck to his sides as your mouth presses to his.

When you pull back, you find him grinning, a little dazed, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he closes the space again, meeting your lips in another kiss, quick but more eager, like he’s savoring the feeling.

And then another. His hand drifts to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer each time your lips meet, each kiss growing a little bolder, a little sweeter, until the space between you disappears entirely. By the fourth kiss, his fingers have settled at the small of your back, warm and sure, and this time he lingers, letting the kiss deepen. It’s slow, unhurried, something unknown flooding through him as he feels your hand slide up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you so you can taste his mouth with ease.

You both feel a little unsteady, leaning into each other for balance, your hands anchoring each other as the world spins quietly around you. His heart races, thrumming against yours, and there’s a shy smile on his face when he finally pulls away, keeping his forehead close to yours, his eyes searching yours, dazed and happy and overcome with affection.

“I… I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice a little unsteady but full of quiet excitement.

“I wasn’t planning it,” you admit, your cheeks flushed, but you don’t pull away, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, breaths mingling in the cool night air, as if tethered to each other by an invisible string. Then, without thinking, you lean back in, your lips finding his once more. This time, there's no hesitation, no pause, just a shared need to be close—as close as possible. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you in with a touch that’s both careful and desperate, as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips, a sound that’s soft and breathless. It makes you laugh too, and you pull back for a moment, catching your breath, only to find his lips chasing after yours again. There’s something almost frantic in the way you keep returning to each other, like you’re both overwhelmed by the discovery of this closeness, unable to let it end just yet.

His hand moves gently to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the tenderness in his touch, in the way he’s holding onto you. 

His voice is barely a whisper, warm and a little breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His words, shy and sincere, only pull you closer. Hand in hand, you start walking, the quiet night around you filled only by the soft sounds of your steps. He keeps his grip loose, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb brushing along the side of your hand as if he can’t bear to let go ever again. You walk in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering touches, both of you stealing glances, unable to stop smiling.

Every so often, he pauses, as if some thread is tugging him back to you. He leans in to press a brief kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw, reeling over the way your eyes flutter closed from the feeling, and before you know it, his lips are back on yours. You laugh against his mouth, feeling both light-headed and grounded in a way that’s wholly new and otherworldly. He pulls back with a grin, his eyes crinkling, looking both bashful and thrilled, like he can’t believe this is real. You’re unreal, you have to be. A fabrication of his imagination, so delicate, so perfect, so you. 

As you continue walking, his arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and the quiet contentment that settles over you feels as natural as breathing. When he stumbles slightly, you catch him, and he grins sheepishly, pulling you close again in a half-hug that turns into yet another kiss.

“I might never get home at this point,” You say breathlessly.

“Would that be so bad?” Each word is mumbled into your mouth as his fingers weave into your hair, holding the back of your neck and letting his tongue shyly lick your bottom lip. 

The hum that you let out, either as a response to his rhetorical question or his tongue now moving against yours, makes his head spin. Your nails, raking down his chest over the material of his shirt, your hips pressing to his—it’s all too much and at the same time, not enough. 

The closer you get to your doorstep, the slower your steps become, as if prolonging the walk will somehow stretch this night just a little further. Every so often, Seokmin pulls you close, and you laugh as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, each one deeper and more unhurried than the last. 

Neither of you speak, as if words would break the fragile spell cast over the night. Instead, you stand there, wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft, dizzying kisses that grow lazier, more lingering. 

There’s a pause, a beat of hesitation, as he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft, and he murmurs, “I should probably let you go.” But even as he says it, his hand remains on your cheek as if he’s not quite ready to leave.

“Probably,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his, but neither of you moves. It takes a moment, maybe two, before he reluctantly lets out a quiet laugh and pulls away, his hand slipping from your cheek to squeeze your hand, holding onto you just a moment longer. He gives you one last look, filled with a warmth and tenderness that leaves you breathless.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks softly, already a few steps down the hall, as though he’s hoping for just one more promise to look forward to.

“Soon,” you reply, his gaze lingering on you as he walks away. You watch him go, the warmth of his kisses still lingering, the last few moments of the night settling over you as you turn to head inside, feeling light, tipsy, and wonderfully, utterly alive.

[click here to continue]

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Vendetta! Leon x a younger reader who dresses up for him? Like just hard porn of reader in a little maid dress for him… and him fucking her so hard while she’s in it.. idk.. man Leon just deserves a pretty partner who dresses up let’s him fuck her whenever or however he pleases…. His little baby… his stress toy.. his whore.. omfg 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

EVERYONE SHUT UP RN I NEED. First request post of the night hehe. It’s NOT proof read so any mistakes just pretend they’re not there ok babies

DISCLAIMER: This blog is strictly 18+! Please do not interact if you are underaged or don’t have age indicators anywhere in your blog! tysm

It’s very short but it’s just a little blurb!! hope you guys don’t mind that ofc i have tons of stuff in my inbox rn </3

afab reader x older! vendetta Leon

Vacation. Leon simply just wanted some time off. He felt so bad that everytime he came home you were so excited to see him, rambling on to him about how you made him dinner, and you folded all his clothes for him. His heart aching as he put his hand up as a signal for you to stop talking as he popped the pain medication in his mouth, washing it down with the lemonade you had made him. His eyebrows frowned as he looked up, noticing how clean the house was, how you even put his jacket up for him as soon as he got home. He felt so guilty, knowing that even on top of doing college, you did all of this for him every single day.

His hand grabbed at the railing of the stairs as he walked up the steps, noticing the light from door shut off. Fuck, you were going to bed. Right when he reached for the door, it swung open.

Knowing Leon had been so stressed, you’ve been doing everything to make him feel better and nothing was working. His tension built up more everyday, even his kisses were rougher. You scrolled online for hours before finally finding it. The perfect little maid outfit you knew would push Leon so blissfully over the edge. Leon’s eyes scanned every inch of your body. The way it was skimpy but not overly skimpy, your thick thighs pressing against each other, the pretty apron resting so beautifully on your waist.

“For me?”

Leon’s words came out so seductively and it shot straight to your core, your shy side drowning you as you nodded your head up to him, your fingers playing with the lace of the outfit. Leon’s head shook as his hands reached out, smoothing over the softness of your chest.

“So pretty.”

He mumbled as he pushed you into the room, almost stumbling but he caught you so fast by the hips. His touch was rough, only to your skin though. He wanted to ruin you, all his anger was now surfacing but to his cock, himself sighing as he licked his lips as he pushed you face down into the bed. Your back arched up into him, your ass pressing so perfectly against his strained cock suffocating in his jeans. You knew him so well, your body pushing back into him, your skirt lifting revealing the plain white panties under, a small wet patch forming on the outside. Leon loved the simple things. His hand stopped your grinding, a yelp leaving your lips as he tore at the panties. He tossed them somewhere but didn’t care knowing he would buy you brand new ones later.

“Wanted you to take your time and enjoy..”

Your pretty glossed lips pouted back at him as he picked you up, throwing you further into the bed. His eyes rolled as his hand reached down, lifting your hips in the air. The sound of his belt unbuckling made your fingers grab at the sheets in excitement, but before you could even look back at him again his cock was so deep in you, your walls struggling to shape around him. A broken cry left your lips as you tried to pull your hips away from him but he grabbed at your waist, pulling you up so your back was flush against his still clothed chest. Your head shook as he began to push in and out of you. No matter how many times Leon fucks you, his cock will always just be to big.

“Leon please- ‘s to much”

You whimpered out as your smaller hands scratched at his arm. He was so big compared to you, it was scary how easily he could overpower you. Leon smirked against the shell of your ear as his hands ran over the lacey material of the dress.

“Cmon’ be a good little girl, let me use my pussy.”

Leon whispered in your ear before his palms pushed you down back onto your stomach, his hands holding at your hips as he drilled into you. The room filled with the sounds of his low growls and groans, and the smacking of his pelvis hitting your ass. His body leaned over yours, kissing the back of your neck as his thrusts went from fast and harsh to slow, and overly deep. With every stroke small whimpers left your lips as he kissed at your shoulders.

“That’s my fucking girl.. Always here for me huh? With this tight little- mm fuck.. so fucking good for me.”

Your whines and moans stopped, making a laugh leave Leon’s throat as his hips stuttered. He reached down pulling your hair away from your face to watch as you chewed at your puffy lower lip, your body already riding through its second orgasm. His grip got tighter on your hips as he plunged himself further into you, a whimpered moan leaving his lips as strings of his cum shot into you, your face twisting in blissful discomfort. Leon sat on his knees, his hand running over the back of your thighs smirking as he watched his cum make its way out of you, his fingers shoving it back into you before he carefully flipped you on your back.

A sigh of content left his lips as he laid his head against your chest, your fingers plunging into his hair as he took in your scent, listening to your heart beat.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You whispered down to him as he shook his head in response.

“Maybe tomorrow angel, let me relax.”

He mumbled, kissing your skin as his eyes closed.

[localplaguenurse]

I am so in fucking love with the stairway to heaven animation and the only ways I can express that is to either say I am bricked the FUCK up, or I give in to the uber instincts of my uber autism and write an essay on what I THINK are some of the references/inspirations used in the animation. I chose the essay because I need people to know why I am "bricked up."

I am fully willing to accept if I am wrong/reaching for some of these but even then, I think it's cool that I can still connect certain moments with things I enjoy. With that out of the way, behold my analysis/breakdown of Stairway to Heaven!

Spoilers below the cut not just for the animation, but also minor spoilers for Kane Pixel's backrooms series, Liminal Land, Skinamarink, and Mandela Catalogue. Also just a warning for the incoherent ramblings of a guy who's abnormal about analog/indie horror. Please please please please PLEASE go watch the animation if you haven't.

First, "subject 087" is in reference to SCP-087, the never ending staircase SCP. I actually didn't even catch that the first time until I scrolled down to the comments lmao. In my defense, when SCP was blowing up in the mid 2010s I wasn't really old enough to appreciate it or find the format interesting (and honestly it is still hard for me to really get into it, but that's more of a me thing. Conceptually a clinical approach to horror like with SCPs or in All Tomorrows is fascinating, but it can be a bit of a slog for me), so I only knew the main three's numbers. (173, 096, and 682).

"Motion detected" has been used in just about every analog horror series now, but Mandela Catalogue is probably the main series that popularized the trope when analog horror first started getting popular.

The backrooms is, obviously, the backrooms. You can probably assume it's Kane Pixels' backrooms because his version really blew up but it feels more like early days backrooms before we got all those monsters and almond water stuff. (Which btw it's so funny we got "almond water" from whoever the first person to say the air smells like almonds was. For reference, almonds smell like cyanide. OP was trying to say the air smells toxic, not that almonds are the safest thing to consume in the backrooms.)

This shot just reminded me of The Oldest View, ALSO from Kane Pixels. Tbh that's probably just me but I thought it was neat.

Next up, the door. Aside from the obvious 333 angel numbers which also appear very prominently in Mandela Catalogue (this series is going to pop up a lot, I'm sorry), but for some reason it reminded me of the Silent Hill 4 door. Again, that's just the tism probably.

Skinamarink ahh shot, was honestly expecting the door to just poof, disappear.

Next, the shot with all the houses. While KP's Backrooms do have that creepy neighbourhood, this exact shot and set up feels closer to H.O.M.E. from Liminal Land.

And then our most darling biblically accurate horror icon Columbina would make False Gabriel proud, and just... she is so fucking cool and creepy in this and I love her so much.

This whole sequence was for one absolutely horrifying and beautiful, but what caught MY attention were the settings and locations shown. These are standard creepy liminal spaces and analog horror gore censorship, yes, but they also reminded me of the locations Trevor Henderson uses in his art pieces, so suffice to say I think Columbina looks RIGHT AT HOME regardless of how you wanna look at these shots. And the animation on her face opening up into wings and eyes is just an absolute chef's kiss moment. Props to the animators, man.

This trope, the whole main character monologue overlaying the screen moment, very common in analog horror but for me, again popularized by its use in the Mandela Catalogue.

The smudged picture is a reference to one of the ending shots in Skinamarink, where it pans over the childhood photos only for their heads and faces to now be missing, which most agree is the movie's way of saying these kids were trapped her for so long they eventually just stopped existing/faded into nothingness.

And finally, the classic ending scene of KP's first Backrooms video.

I know for a fact there are probably other references to liminal spaces/analog horror that I either missed or they're like general concepts/tropes used in analog horror. I did almost mention the mill in petscop because of Columbina's "two in the mill, one taken, one left" because that phrasing felt really specific, but it doesn't quite fit the vibes of all the other references. Also her only being seen in the camera is a trope used in all manner of horror media. My first thought was the forest scene in VHS (2012) where the murderer could only be seen in the film static.

I just wanted to get the especially cool/unique moments out there. I didn't even touch on the storyline but that's because it seems pretty straightforward. I'm also aware not many people are gonna read my red string corkboard ramblings, which I'm fine with. I just needed to get this out of my system, but I do appreciate those who did take the time to indulge my ramblings!

That's all for now, back to whatever the hell I had planned for today.

[archangeldyke-all]

My brain rot is going CRAZYYYYY

Sevika with scientist reader? And she’ll just blurt out random ass facts about Sev anatomy? Especially during sex.

hahahahahah i love this

men and minors dni

you've got her underneath you, two of your fingers in her cunt as she shakes. "you're so fuckin' pretty, sev, i love you so much." you whisper.

sevika whimpers.

then. "did you know a vagina's acidity is the same as most tomatoes? they both have an average pH of 4.5..." you trail off, ducking down to kiss a path down sevika's chest.

she bursts into laughter, pushing you away from her. you blink up at her, confused. "what?!" she asks, still giggling.

"what?"

"'s this your way of tellin' me my cunt smells like ketchup or somethin'?" she asks. you snort.

"no!" you laugh. "no, sorry, i just-- i just learned that yesterday." you say, embarrassed.

sevika giggles and pulls you back on top of her body. "you're cute. but... maybe pick a sexier vegetable to talk about it bed next time. like eggplant..."

"techinically tomatoes are fruits--"

"for fuck's sake babe!" she laughs.

it happens more often than you'd expect. you've got two real passions in life: your passion for biology and your passion for sevika. it's not surprising to you that when you're rambling about one, the other sometimes slips out too.

like when you guys are scrolling through a sex-shop online, half shopping, half making out. sevika hovers the cursor over a unique dildo, named 'unicorn's horn.' it's got columns spiraling up the shaft in pastel colors, the head rounded off. she chuckles. "could feel good..." she considers. "'s seven inches..."

"you know, ducks actually have corkscrew penises, similar to this. though, theirs are only one of these columns."

sevika bursts into laughter, then opens a new tab. "hold on, i gotta see this..." she mumbles as she starts typing 'duck dick' in the search bar.

or when sevika's kissing her way down your abdomen, heading straight for your cunt, and you lean back against the pillows, slide your hands in her hair, and speak.

she's expecting something romantic.

she isn't expecting: "do you know that some species of bats have been observed giving their partners cunnilingus? scientists think they're trying to lick competing sperm out of the female bat."

she just groans. "baby... please say something sexy so i can go down on you without that image in my head."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ peanut butter & tears ♡

♡ Pairing: idol!boyfriend!minho! x fem!reader

♡ Summary: A week after Minho goes public with your relationship, a ghost from your past posts a stream of tweets on social media revealing your darkest secrets to millions and, more importantly, your boyfriend.

♡ Genre: angst/fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: mention of sex, brief discussion of scars/stretchmarks/self harm/people being assholes on the internet (none of it's graphic but still important to warn you of, my loves)

♡ A/N: I love and appreciate @aprilskillstory not only for submitting this but for being super patient while I wrote it and for trusting me to write it at all. I named this after a DPR Ian song btw. If you haven't heard it, it's magical.

This is a nightmare...

Actually, it’s much worse than that. Nightmares you wake up from. This is real life. No alarm clock will ring to snap you out of it. This is happening. Sinking further down into the lukewarm water of your bubble bath, you look on helplessly as your phone lights up with notifications. Every few seconds the number in the top right corner of a half dozen apps doubles, triples in some cases. 

Minho’s decision to go public with your relationship had initially gone much nicer than you anticipated. A week had passed with minimal backlash and what you did receive had begun to die down before the stream of tweets that have you preferring to prune than to crawl out of this tub and face him.

There's no telling who would have posted them. Tweet after tweet detailing things that you’ve wanted with everything in you to open up to Minho about. You’ve tried a million times and a million times your admissions have gotten caught in your throat, jagged and barbed, refusing to budge.

But someone dragged them out and your soul along with them, putting your secrets on display for a merciless crowd set on tearing you away from their beloved Minho. 

“Trauma like that can’t make her a stable girlfriend.”

“Self harm scars? No wonder she’s always covered up in pics…” 

“Our Lino deserves better.”

“She’s dated girls too? Do you think he knew?”

“If Minho knew he wouldn’t be with her.” 

You scroll through reply after reply until your screen’s too wet for your touch to register. You’re startled by the sound of Minho shouting, his voice muffled through the thick walls of your apartment but his rage is unmistakable. Placing your phone on the chair by the bathtub, you hop out before courage abandons you.

“It’s gonna be okay” you repeat to yourself, wrapping a towel around you to form a lilac safety blanket, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Just breathe.” Footsteps descend down the hall and you breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow breaths full of intent like the pink haired girl in the yoga pants on Youtube instructed you to do.

“You’re the only big brother I have. Just, please, don’t let them come here” Minho begs, standing in the doorway with his phone to his ear, “I’ll come after. I promise. Thank you.” He hangs up, turning to you, his gaze transforming you into stone like one of the foolish men who dared to lay eyes on Medusa. The rise and fall of your chest ceases almost to the point of lifelessness.

“Minho, I can explain…” He folds an arm across his chest, nervously tapping his phone against his temple, “That you hid things from me?” “I didn’t hide anything. At least, not on purpose. I didn't mean to do it.” “Then what did you mean to do? Hmm? You know what I do for work. What were you thinking?” “Fuck, I don’t know” you weep, sitting on the edge of the tub.

You tilt your head back, hoping to send the tears rolling back to where they came from but it’s no use. They only pool in your eyes, clouding your vision so that the only thing you see as Minho approaches is the distorted silhouette of his figure. “I wanted to tell you, I did, but I was afraid it’d be too much at once. That you’d hate me like other guys in the past have.”

You’re rambling, breathing heavily, blindly reaching for tissues. Minho leans your head forward, resting your left cheek on his stomach while he strokes the other side of your face, soothing your anxiousness.  “Hate you? Hate…you?” he asks, more offended by your statement than you expect, “I need you to look at me.” Sniffling, you turn to look up at him and he’s…smiling?

“I love you. Nothing could ever make me hate you. I just wish you’d come to me so I could've protected you. If I had known…” “Wait, you’re not mad?” “At what?” “That I’ve, you know, dated women before.” Minho shrugs, “Jisung’s basically my last resort if we break up so, uh, no.” “But my scars and my stretch marks…” Kissing you on the forehead, he backs away and begins to take his shirt off.

“When you asked me to have sex with the lights out did I ever argue?” For the first time since you met, it sets in that he had, in fact, never questioned why you never wanted the lights on. Come to think of it, you usually didn’t need to ask for them to be off. They already were. Minho tosses his shirt to the ground, running his fingers along the scar that marks his abdomen, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like mine either.”

“Wouldn’t like it?” you scoff, unable to fathom how you’d ever find him anything short of beautiful, “It’s a part of you. I love anything that’s a part of you.” Minho sits down beside you, delighting in seeing you even partially uncovered for the first time, “The feeling’s mutual.” The sound of a vibrating phone grabs your attention. You glance over at the chair. It’s not yours.

Minho digs his phone out of his pocket, groaning as he scrolls through text messages. “Shit, I have to go do damage control” he huffs, jumping up to toss his shirt back on, “But when I come back we have to talk. I have questions about the scars if you’re comfortable? Just to make sure you’re okay.” “Uh, yeah, sure that’s okay. I’ll make us some food for when you get back and you can ask me whatever.” 

His phone vibrates again, this time it’s a call. “What?” he whines, “I’m on my way. No, I really am. I’m in the car right now. Oh no, you’re breaking up. Oh…” Minho’s phone hits the bath water with a splash, sending bubbles cascading down the walls. “Oops,” he gasps, knowing very well it wasn’t an accident.

Minho gives you a dozen more kisses on your lips, on your forehead, on your cheeks, before he’s dashing around the apartment searching for his keys. “And stay off of social media unless you plan to make a list of everyone who says something bad so I can fight them! Love you!” he shouts on the way out the front door. “Love you too!” you shout back before it closes.

Left alone in the silence of the aftermath, you nibble at your bottom lip, nervous at having finally found someone this accepting but beyond happy that he exists. That he’s yours. A phone vibrates again. Your phone. Picking it up you see that it’s a call from someone you haven’t spoken to in a while. No doubt with questions about what’s been going on. You stare at it for a moment, contemplating answering but then...

“Oops” you gasp, letting your phone slip into a watery grave beside Minho’s, “Tragic.”

[bxeckersz]

Let You Go | Caitlin Clark x Ex gf!reader

Summary: Y/n just can’t seem to let Caitlin go.

Warnings: language

A/n: hey guys, i’m locking in and posting all my drafts today 💪🏽.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I don’t understand. You said you’d never leave. You told me that you’d be there but you lied again to me.

It’s been 2 months since me and Caitlin broke up. Our relationship spiraled to shit after 3 years. I pick up my phone, scrolling through the photo album of her titled “Cait 💍🤍”

“I can’t do this anymore Y/n.” Caitlin yells, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What- What do you mean.” My heart drops to my stomach.

“This. Us! I can’t do this anymore. All we do is argue!” She screams, motioning between us. “Cait- please don’t say that. I- We could talk this out. Please.” I plead, grabbing a hold of her arm. Caitlin shakes her head, moving her arm.

“Cait-“ I say, tears falling. “I- i’m sorry. Please.” I beg, watching as she packs her bag. “I’m done, y/n. this shit is miserable.” She mutters, walking towards the door.

“Caitlin, please don’t walk away from me.” I cry. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” Is all she mutters before walking out and slamming the door. I notice she takes the ring and necklace off that i bought her.

All I can do is cry.

You’re always on my mind, and when it’s late at night I think of what you’re doing. Do you think of me sometimes?

Tears fall from my face as I scroll through the photo album that seems endless. I wipe my tears with the sleeve of her hoodie that i’m wearing.

I throw my phone down, sobbing louder and harder. I pull out a box from underneath my bed. It’s not just any box. It’s a box full of things that Caitlin has bought me.

I cry pulling out the items.

And when i’m feeling down, I lose all control. Emotions keep coming and i’m trying to let you go.

A teddy bear she won me at our first date to the fair.

So if you wanna talk to me again

Endless polaroid pictures of the two of us.

Don’t try to act like we were always friends

A candle she bought me because it reminded her of me.

When i’m all alone, I try to clear my mind

A charm bracelet she bought me for our one year anniversary.

But you’ll be coming back and you’ll be saying that all night

A bracelet she bought me with a ‘C’ and a basketball bead on it.

I never did you wrong. I’ve always had your side.

A matching necklace she bought me.

And you just took it all away, and make me wanna cry

A hoodie she bought me simply because it was my favorite color

And when i’m feeling down, I lose all control.

Everything in this apartment reminds me of her. I can still smell her in the air. Everyday I wait for her to arrive home from Practice.

Emotions keep coming and i’m trying to let you go

Everyday I wait for her to get home and ramble about her day.

So if you wanna talk to me again

She was my first love. and she threw it down the drain like i was nothing.

Don’t try to act like we were always friends

Sometimes I find myself doing our morning and night routine. Preparing things for her like I have the past three years.

And when i’m feeling down, I lose all control.

I even find myself buying her favorite foods and snacks when I go grocery shopping.

Emotions keep coming and i’m trying to let you go

I can’t get her off my mind. I can’t let her go. Her laugh. Her corny jokes. Her cheesy smile. The way she used to wrap her arms around me. Her touch. Her voice.

And when i’m feeling down, I lose all control.

I miss her so much. I spent three years of my life loving the same person. Catering for the same person. Just for her to turn away and throw it all away like I don’t matter.

Emotions keep coming and i’m trying to let you go.

I find myself Calling for her to open things for me. Or grab things off the top shelf. Or help me pick something you wear.

It hurts to remember she’s not with me to help anymore.

And when i’m feeling down I lose all control

I cry pulling all of the things out the box. I’ve never been this heart broken over someone. Never.

Emotions keep coming

“Please, come home.” I cry, hugging onto the stuffed teddy bear she bought me.

“please.”

And i’m trying to let you go.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thanks for reading all the way through!

[bluecatwriter]

I watched the Wildhorn/Black/Hampton Dracula rock opera!

Okay, okay, okay. As some of you know, one of the guys in my theater troupe got me comp tickets to see him in Dracula: The Musical. You guys. It was an EGREGIOUS adaptation that didn't even make narrative sense on its own terms. I also had a TOTAL BLAST. 

If you like the musical, no shade to you— please just keep scrolling and like what you like! However, I had so many thoughts about this that I had to word-vomit about it, and thought some of you might have fun reading my thoughts on the good, the bad, and ugly for 3,000 words.

TL:DR: Very fun experience, so glad I went, the play's narrative choices make me want to throw hands in a Denny's parking lot, much dunking/adaptation-hate ahead, my friends are amazing, I'm writing my own play now.

(CW discussion of rape, ableism, drug use, suicide)

-First of all, everyone take a moment to appreciate my eyeliner. I do not usually draw eyeliner that well so I was very proud of myself.

-I went with my sister, since we both knew people in the cast. (I thought we knew three, but we actually knew four: the actors who played Dracula, Mina, Lucy, and Quincey.) My sister didn't know anything about Dracula except what she'd picked up from my incoherent ramblings (which I generally keep to a minimum around her). 

-It was a black-box theater, which I didn't expect: six or so rows of chairs on each side of the theater, facing each other across the relatively small room, with the stage in the middle and a live orchestra (!!!) on one end. The set was a minimalist Gothic castle design, with windows, a freestanding moving wall, and a large platform that, throughout the play, served as Dracula's coffin, a table, Lucy's bed, Lucy's coffin, and just a general place to stand and sing in a badass way. I absolutely LOVE black box shows because they're so intimate: you can almost reach out and touch the actors, and you can see every minute facial expression and gesture, the light glittering in their eyes, and so on. (Acting in a black box theater is much more like movie acting because the audience can see what you're doing with your eyes in a way that regular theater doesn't allow, meaning that things like eye contact between characters is much more electric and effective.)

-The sound design and lighting effects were doing a lot of heavy lifting in this show, and they nailed it. Very spooky!

-The play began with the weird sisters, and they were consistently my favorite part of the play— the actresses killed it (ha), bringing an intense, spooky energy to the story, often serving as narrators, background singers, extras, special effects handlers (such as portraying the wreck of the Demeter), and the physical manifestation of Dracula's will/presence. They were AWESOME.

-I had decided in advance that this play was a fanfiction written by Dracula about himself, and nothing about the show dissuaded me from this idea. The guy who played Dracula served major cunt from the moment he stepped onstage, wearing leather pants with laces up the side and a big sweeping coat and a huge amount of eyeliner that really brought out his unnervingly blue eyes. ("All guys should wear eyeliner and leather pants," I joked to my sister after the show, and she responded, with the most haunted look I've ever seen, "I agree about the eyeliner, but not the pants. I lived in San Francisco for three years, and you know not what you speak of. There are things I cannot unsee.")

-Actually, to be honest I liked Dracula's characterization (until the end; see below); whether because of the director or the actor or both, this version really did not downplay what a bastard he is. He was incredibly ruthless, in all senses of the word: focused on a single goal and not caring who got mowed down in the process. Anytime his sung lines talked about him being lonely or sad or whatever, the actor played it off as him trying to garner sympathy from his listener, rather than expressing his true feelings, which was a directing/acting choice I really appreciated.

-When Jonathan came on stage (from the door just a few feet away) I nearly squealed with delight! He just RADIATED "biggest sweetheart you've ever met" energy: tall and lanky and with a scruffy lil beard and clothes that didn't quite fit. I was in love with him from the beginning. Also he got to mention his Kodak camera, and I remembered that I could not actually cheer at moments like that because that would be weird.

-The Dracula-Mina "romance" was introduced very early, which I appreciated; from a storytelling perspective, it was good to have that continuous thread. Dracula looks at a picture of Mina, mentions how young she is, asks Jonathan if she is "pure," and then decides that they're soulmates. It was SO PERVY. Once again, I loved the Dracula characterization. If only it had stayed one-sided…

-I was fortunately warned that in this version Jonathan takes the crucifix off so the weird sisters can continue attacking him, but I still had to suppress a "BOOOOO!" (I did whisper "NOT CANON!" to my sister, and later she said that when that happened in the play she was like, "Oh, okay, I don't care what happens to this guy now.") But I guess it did have the effect of making him less sympathetic, which served the story the play was trying to tell.

-I was pleased that there was a Drac-drinking-from-Jonathan scene, and consistent with the storytelling, Drac had a whole song about how he needs Jonathan's blood so he can be young and hot and go seduce Mina (which, again, fits with the story they were telling). They decided not to have any sexual tension between Dracula and Jonathan, so the blood-drinking scene was pretty brutal (complimentary)— Jonathan laid out on the platform with Drac just. gnawing on his neck while Jonathan writhed and convulsed. It was still kinda hot though not gonna lie

-Lucy's characterization at first was pretty interesting, because her song about the three suitors (and the directing/acting) made it seem like she was just kinda stuck with three mediocre choices, and chose the least offensive one (Arthur, who she describes as boring and can't even think of one nice thing to say about him) and tried to convince herself that she would be happy. This was honestly the biggest moment where I had to just squirm in my seat to keep from actively booing. Don't be so mean 2 my boy! From a storytelling perspective, it wasn't clear at all why she chose Arthur, because Quincey was the only one of the suitors who had any personality at all (even Jack was bland. JACK. WAS BLAND. YOU COULDN'T HAVE HIM SIT ON HIS HAT OR AT LEAST FIDDLE WITH HIS LANCET? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???). Anyway, Arthur was actually totally fine after that song (and had some nice lines in the group songs).

-Meanwhile, Drac is creeping on Mina by entering her thoughts without her consent and being like, "We're soulmates," and she just…. goes along with it???? With literally no rhyme or reason to her decision???? I know some of this is that I hate the whole concept of soulmates, but I expected at least SOME justification for why she was interested in him. There was no indication she was unhappy with Jonathan; there was no hint of any emotional connection; there wasn't even some weird "reincarnated lover" story to try to soften how incredibly strange it felt that Mina was randomly in love with this guy's voice in her head. His baritone is sexy BUT IT IS NOT THAT SEXY. GIRL PLEASE.

-In this version Dracula bites Lucy because he's trying to call Mina to him and Lucy comes by accident and he's like, "Well, nothin' I can do about that. CHOMP." Which, again, I honestly liked this characterization because he's not apologetic about who he is; he is just destroying everyone in his way and not caring about them as people. He just has a goal and he'll do anything to reach it.

-Then of course Lucy's like, "Oooh that was actually so sexy and I never want to wake up from that dream of him chomping on my throat." The directly seemed to imply that being bitten by a vampire just. instantly turns you into something that's not yourself, so I could kinda excuse it if I squinted, but it was still pretty icky.

-Renfield got to stab Jack! My sister felt sorry for Jack (because all his unethical science got shaved off in this adaptation) and I was just like, "YESSS RENFIELD YOU GO!" 

-Jonathan shows up again, in a wheelchair (a really cool old-fashioned one), and Mina goes to marry him, and their marriage is paralleled with Lucy and Arthur's while Drac looms in the background. The double wedding was a nice staging choice, although the optics of Mina somewhat reluctantly marrying disabled Jonathan while abled Dracula is standing by being All Sexy was… uh, it was not great. But on the plus side, maybe it emphasizes the ableism that a lot of people have toward Jonathan's disabilities in the story, bringing them out into the open? (I am grasping at straws here.)

-Van Helsing was perfect! The actor had wild gray hair and forehead bumps and a tenor voice that could shatter your heart into a million pieces. He did a great job of having the "weird professor" vibes even though his lines were more coherent and to-the-point than they are in the book. 

-No blood transfusions, sadly, but I see why they cut that part.

-Lucy turning vamp was very well done. I think I should mention at this point that the actors who played Dracula and Lucy are actually married to each other in real life, and they had really crackling chemistry and it was clear in every scene they were together that they were having just the best time. "Life After Life" was my second-favorite song in the play because it's just Dracula sending Lucy out to eat people— and again, both actors were clearly having SO MUCH FUN performing this song together. At the end of the scene I was all pumped up, like, "Yeah Lucy! Go eat some people!!!"

-Intermission. I told my sister this was like the part in Rashomon where the rapist tells the court his point of view and is like, "Oh, she totally wanted it." My sister shook her head at me and chuckled.

-The graveyard/Bloofer Lady scene was genuinely horrifying; Lucy's actress did an AMAZING job of amping up the horror, beginning the scene by cradling a baby and singing it a lullaby, then just CHOMPING down on it, and throwing it down and hissing like an animal when the Crew of Light approached her. Mina and Jonathan were in that scene, too, and even though Mina didn't have any lines, seeing her reacting to it (rushing to grab the child, dodging out of Bloofer!Lucy's snapping jaws) gave the scene a lot of emotional intensity. 

-Both Bloofer!Lucy's death and Renfield's death were directed beautifully; they were both somewhat quiet, almost slow motion, focused not on the violence but on the emotional weight of both their lives ending.

-Jonathan and Arthur, while both being incredibly bland characters, have I think more dialogue in this play than they do in the book. Every time they spoke I was like, :D :D :D! My blorbos!!!

-Throughout Mina's whole song "Please Don't Make Me Love You" (sung, of course, to Dracula) I focused VERY HARD on my friend's amazing acting, her beautiful voice, the way she was playing this with absolute conviction, while in the back of my head I was screaming. Just a primal, Nazgul-like shriek. GIRL WHY (I think my sister was amused by how much I was squirming)

-Van Helsing has a nice little song about his dead wife, saying that it was a vampire that killed her and that's why he's a vampire hunter now. He was also shooting up with a comically large syringe during this song, but sure, yeah, that's fine. Like I said, his voice was SO BEAUTIFUL, so I was entranced. If only he had gotten a chance to find connection and family ties in order to continue that character arc HINT HINT

-Ah, then we get the Blood Baptism scene. Mina sings a song about how she doesn't want to run away (because of that sexy baritone voice I guess) so she invites Dracula into her room, he knocks out Jonathan, and then they make out over Jonathan's body. Le sigh. The funniest part of this scene is that they had her drink from his chest but they didn't use any fake blood, so he just unbuttons his shirt and she buries her face in his boobs, no context. I asked my sister afterward, "What did you think was going on in that scene?" and she said, "I figured she was drinking from his vampire-milk titties."

-Van Helsing and Dracula got an "I will take you down!"-style song that was actually really cool.

-Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, BOOK-CANON MINA SHOWS UP! She was in a wheelchair now (a great directing choice, I thought), and demanded that Van Helsing hypnotize her, insisted on them keeping the information from her so that Dracula can't get to it, makes them all vow to kill her, and figures out where Dracula is going based on the maps. I was like THERE SHE IS! THERE'S MY GIRL! …But unfortunately this characterization makes no sense in the story the musical is actually telling. Why is Mina leading them to him? Why is she taking such pains to make sure Dracula is not warned of their coming? It didn't fit with any of her characterization in the rest of the play (and especially not with the ending), so it felt really cobbled-together and odd.

-Also Jonathan vows to kill her and there's a whole song about how sad he is that he will have to do that. I was gritting my teeth the whole song being like It's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a storytelling choice it's a

-Okay. YOU GUYS. YOU GUYS. The song "Deep in the Darkest Night" WAS AMAZING. It's a song by the Crew of Light (and in this version, sung by all six of them, including Mina) about their quest, and how they must be points of light in the darkness. It was SO BEAUTIFUL and SO THEMATICALLY ON POINT and it was EVERYTHING I WANTED from a Dracula musical and it is a CRIME that the whole play was not built around these themes and motifs!! *chewing on the scenery* Also, holy cow, everyone in the cast could sing like nothing else. Full-body chills. Stunning, incredible, showstopping, no notes.

-In one of the hypnotic sessions, Dracula came to stand behind Mina and they sang a duet, a reprise of "Life After Life" (the song for Bloofer!Lucy), and that was an incredibly effective storytelling choice (also their voices just blended so. well. together that even in the songs I hated, I still got chills because their voices were SO DANG BEAUTIFUL TOGETHER). Again, I am haunted by what this play could've been if the Drac/Mina thing was one-sided.

-In this version, Quincey gives Mina his Bowie knife for protection, which I thought was sweet.

-Drac has a big sad-boy song about how he's actually in love with Mina now. BOOHOO MOTHERFUCKER. NO ONE CARES.

-Quincey got killed by trying to stake Dracula and Drac grabbing the stake and shoving it into his stomach. (My sister gasped and squeaked, "No!" when this happened.)

-Meanwhile, Van Helsing and Mina get separated, and Mina has a whole song about how she's made her final decision: she's gonna become a vampire and live with Dracula forever. At this point in the play I was like, Okay, girl, whatever, you do you…

-But then. BUT THEN. *frothing at the mouth*

-(Don Black and Christopher Hampton meet me in the Denny's parking lot I just want to talk)

-Drac's like, "Ooooh no actually I don't want you to be a vampire so you need to kill me now."

-Mina's like, "Nooooo this makes me so sad I have chosen to be a vampire and it is what I truly want!"

-Drac's like "Nobody cares what you want because the authors couldn't care less about your agency as a person"

-Mina's like "nooooooooo i'm so saaaaaad!"

-(Me: *still frothing at the mouth*)

-Finally, weeping, she takes Quincey's knife and places it over his heart.

-And then SHE DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING KILL HIM HE JUST GRABS HER HAND WITH THE KNIFE IN IT AND KILLS HIMSELF

-Like, I am just so mad that Mina doesn't even get the tiniest bit of agency here at the end. She is just blown about by the whims of the men, and at the end none of her narrative choices are respected in any way. A lot of this is, I'm sure, the directing for this particular performance: if I were trying to make this ending a bit more narratively satisfying, I would give Mina a moment where you can see her agreeing with him and deciding to kill him herself. This ending just felt… cheap. It didn't even form a satisfying closing even based on the rules of its own storytelling. It was so ridiculous that I actually had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. 

-After the show we got to talk to all our friends who were in it and it was easy to sincerely compliment them because they all did an AMAZING job. I feel so honored to be friends with such amazingly talented people!

-We drove home in a lightning storm while blasting Blondie's song "One Way or Another" (my sister said she was thinking of this song all through the Drac/Mina story arc) and singing loudly along. "ONE WAY OR ANOTHER/I'M GONNA FIND YA/I'M GONNA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA GETCHA!"

-I asked her which two characters she thought I shipped the most and she guessed Jonathan/Quincey. Not a bad guess.

-Got home, rambled to my very tired spouse, curled up in bed, turned to him and said, "I promise to never leave you for some random dude who speaks in my head and says we're soulmates," and he replied, "And I promise to never leave you for three sexy vampire ladies," and if that's not a wedding vow renewal I don't know what is.

-Laid awake for nearly two hours brainstorming a Dracula play (not a musical, I'm not that talented). And, uh… yeah. A script is gonna happen. I've written plenty of plays (and co-directed/co-produced a few times), so it's definitely in my wheelhouse, and my brain will not shut up with ideas. So! *tosses it onto list of creative projects*

----

(P.S. If you reblog, please don't tag this as the Dracula musical because I don't want any fans to be exposed to the hate. Thanks!)

[isacksteban]

congrats on 800!!

can I request strollonso and pierresteban double date haha

800 followers celebration

tysm tysm heheeheheh >-<

I LUV THIS REQUEST SM ANON MWAHHH

Lance sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone as Fernando walked in from their garage. Lance glanced up, a crooked smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, Nando," Lance began, setting his phone down and leaning forward eagerly.

Fernando arched a suspicious eyebrow, immediately wary of the tone. "What do you want, Lancito?"

"Why do you assume I want something?" Lance asked, trying to look innocent.

"Because I know you," Fernando replied, crossing his arms. "So? What is it?"

Lance hesitated for a moment, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Okay, hear me out. Este and Pierre want to go on a double date with us."

Fernando's face fell at the mention of Esteban — no matter how hard he tried he just couldnt get along with him. "Absolutely not."

"Fernando, come on!" Lance protested, scooting closer. "It’ll be fun! Pierre’s great, and you barely even have to talk to Esteban. I’ll keep him distracted. It'll be more like a getting-our-boyfriends-to-be-friends outing than a double date!"

Fernando shook his head firmly. "You know I don’t get along with him. Why would I voluntarily spend an evening with him?"

"Because I’m asking you to," Lance said, softening his tone. "Please? It’s important to me. Este’s my best friend, and Pierre’s his boyfriend. They’re trying to be more social, and it would mean a lot to them if we joined."

Fernando sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Lance, it’s not just about the history between Esteban and me. I’m not exactly the ‘double date’ type."

"I know," Lance admitted, reaching out to take Fernando’s hand. "But you’re my type, and I’d love for us to do this together. Just this once. If it’s awful, we never have to do it again."

The following evening, Lance couldn’t stop smiling as he and Fernando walked into the cozy restaurant where Esteban and Pierre were already waiting. Fernando, on the other hand, looked like he was walking into a battlefield rather than a date.

Esteban was the first to spot them, waving enthusiastically. "Lance! Fernando!" he called out, his grin wide and, in Fernando's opinion, far too smug.

Pierre stood up beside him, offering a polite smile. "Hey, guys! Thanks for coming."

"Of course," Lance replied, all sunshine and charm. "We wouldn’t miss it."

Fernando grumbled something unintelligible under his breath but managed a tight nod as they reached the table. He slid into the chair beside Lance, his posture stiff and guarded.

"Fernando," Esteban said with a nod, his tone just a touch too cordial.

"Esteban," Fernando replied flatly.

Lance jumped in quickly, clapping his hands together. "So, how’s everything with you two? Been keeping busy?"

Pierre smiled. "Yeah, we’ve been good. Esteban’s been trying to explain Marvel lore to me, but let’s just say I’m not exactly a natural."

Esteban laughed, a warm sound that made Fernando’s jaw tighten. "You’re getting there," he said, leaning into Pierre slightly. "You listen to me ramble, and that’s what matters."

Fernando snorted under his breath, earning a sharp look from Lance.

"Fernando’s been teaching me a bit about car setups lately," Lance said quickly, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. "It’s been... an experience."

"An experience?" Esteban repeated with a teasing smirk.

"Let’s just say patience isn’t one of his strong suits," Lance said, nudging Fernando playfully.

Pierre laughed, the tension at the table easing slightly. "Sounds familiar," he said. "Esteban’s the same way when he’s trying to teach me something. It’s like, ‘How do you not get this already?'"

Esteban raised his hands in mock defense. "Hey, I’m just trying to help you catch up on pop culture."

Fernando rolled his eyes, but there was a faint hint of amusement in them. "Some people aren’t cut out to be teachers," he muttered.

"Some people aren’t cut out to listen," Esteban shot back, though his tone was light.

Lance and Pierre exchanged a quick glance, both holding their breath. But then, to everyone’s surprise, Fernando cracked a small, reluctant smile.

"Maybe you’re right," Fernando said, reaching for his glass of wine.

The evening continued in fits and starts, with Lance and Pierre skillfully navigating the occasional tense moments between their boyfriends. By the time dessert arrived, the conversation had mellowed, and even Fernando seemed more at ease.

As they left the restaurant, Lance slipped his hand into Fernando’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Fernando sighed but didn’t pull away. "It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done," he admitted.

"I’ll take it," Lance said with a grin, leaning up to kiss Fernando’s cheek.

Behind them, Esteban and Pierre exchanged a look, Pierre smiling softly as Esteban whispered, "Baby steps."

[cauqhtz]

GALLY X READER!TINY

DISCLAIMER: i’ll be substituting "y/n" for "tiny" if that’s something you struggle with digesting? Keep scrolling! I dont need to be harrassed bc of it. Its not that serious. (No its not a oc. It’s literally you with a nickname. Instead of typing all ridiculous (y/n/n) i gave it a different word. Thats it and thats all! Also i’ve seen other writers do this without being harrassed so please just respect me and my choices. DO NOT READ IT IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT. I removed the option to request anonymously because of this. But my requests are open!

SUMMARY: Thomas and Tiny talk about Gally and rejection.

"What do you see in him?" Thomas askes sitting down beside Tiny, motioning towards Gally.

The only girl in the glade and his best-friend. She’d only joined a couple months before he did and yet for some reason she drooled all over Gally. The builders chief. Going out of her way to please the guy. Though from everything that Thomas has witnessed, he wasnt giving her the time of day. Its pathetic. Though he wasn’t in any position to be judgemental.

"Excuse me?" Tiny hums in acknowledgment her. Her attention unwavering.

"Gally, hey-" Thomas calls turning her head in his direction before continuing. "He treats you like shit and you kiss the ground he walks on. Does it not bother you? Why not move on?"

"Of course it bothers me Tommy. I have feelings just like everyone else but i dont know. I could give you a million and one excuses and it still wouldnt explain how he makes me feel. You know? Yeah rejection hurts like a motherfucker but all it takes is a smile, a kiss to my cheek or forehead, his skin on mine in general and its like the pain was never there." Tiny rambles on grinning, eyes as bright as stars as she shakes his shoulders in excitement.

Thomas nods in understanding. He understood. He didnt know when he’d fallen in love with the girl who was in love with the guy who hated his guts. It was pathetic… but he couldnt find it in him to be mad at it.

"And i mean come on. Moving on? If it were that easy. Heartbreak wouldnt hurt as bad as it does. It doesnt help that he treats me like an absolute princess. He’s such a sweetheart. You know im very peculiar with how i eat my food? It has to be a certain way or i’ll starve. It’s not like we have many options in the glade but i just cannot force myself to swallow the food if it isnt a certain way and i’d die before offending frypan. So i’d end up starving until Gally realized and started to go out of his way to plate my food for me?" Tiny sighs leaning her head against Thomas shoulder, her gaze trailing back to Gally who was rough housing with the guys.

"He built me a shack, so i’d have my privacy and be alone. God his hugs are the best. He’s always so gentle with me. I mean just look at him-"

"Alright! Alright. I get it. You’re in love with him." Thomas huffs playfully shrugging the girl off. Trying to ignore ache in his chest.

"Yup! And he’s in love with me. He just doesnt know it yet!" Tiny grins, pressing a kiss to the boys cheek after having heard Gally call out to her. "Welp my husband calls! Later Tommy!"

Tommy hums, watching Gally hand the girl a plate of assorted food, that doesnt touch with a kiss to her forehead. The two walk from Thomas’s sight.

Thomas understood the girls words. More than he liked.

[midwestmade29]

Tease 😎

To Anonymous: Thanks for your request! Gotta love EVP Matthew 😏 I hope you like it 🖤

Word count: 1.6k Divider by: @saradika-graphics GIF by: Me 🙂

Original anonymous request: Can I request the prompt “You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” with EVP Matt Jackson? Smut if possible.

Disclaimers: Teasing (sexually), oral sex, cursing. Read at your own discretion.

100% pure fiction

Your EVP is not pleased with your misconduct...

“I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but if it happens again there will be a hefty fine. You’re lucky I caught you instead of Nicholas. My brother’s kind of a hot head,” Matthew explained to his subordinate.

He patted them on the shoulder before continuing his decent down the hallway to his EVP dressing room. You were already inside, sitting on the counter of the vanity scrolling through your phone.

“Hey baby,” Matthew greeted you with a smile. “Sorry it took me so long. Has Nicholas been by yet?”

He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. You looked him up and down, admiring how sexy he looked in his black suit. Matthew caught you staring and chuckled, “Like what you see, princess?” “Yes, very much,” you said appreciatively. “But no, I haven’t seen Nicholas yet. Not since earlier when he got “tired of the disrespect around here” and stormed off,”

Matthew shook his head and placed his hands on each side of you on the counter. His cologne danced around your nose as he nuzzled his face in your neck, the soft kisses he planted on the delicate skin there made your cheeks flush. You spread your legs to allow Matthew to stand in between them, wrapping your arms around his neck while your hands played with his slicked back ponytail. He let out a low groan when you gave it a tug, his hands now gripping your hips.

“I’ve been thinking of those pretty pink lips of yours all day,” he whispered into your ear.  “Oh, really? And what exactly were you thinking about them doing?” you asked coyly.

Matthew smirked and pressed his tongue against his cheek before responding, “Well, for starters, I thought about how sweet they taste when I kiss them,”

He kissed the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with his, leaving you a little dizzy when he eventually pulled away.

“The other thing I thought about was how good they would look wrapped around my cock,”

His gaze was intense, his face covered with desire. You slid your hand down his chest and onto his hard length that was dying to be freed from his dress pants, rubbing it agonizingly slow.

“Let me make your second thought a reality,” your voice was low and sweet.

You had just undone Matthew’s belt buckle when the door opened, and a disgruntled Nicholas walked inside. You were relieved when he didn’t acknowledge the predicament you and Matthew were in. Instead he paced and carried on about Tony Shiavone, “That prick actually thinks I knocked him down on purpose! It’s not my fault he tripped me,”

Matthew buckled his belt and turned around to address his brother, but Nicholas didn’t let him get a word in edgewise! He pressed his back against your chest and your arms were wrapped around him holding him in place while the two of you listened to Nicholas ramble.

“We’ll take care of him next week on Dynamite, okay? It’s getting late and I think we’ve handed out enough fines for today. This EVP is ready to get out of here,” Matthew interrupted.

Nicholas was about to reject his brother’s wishes, but decided he was probably right.

“The chauffer is waiting on us. See you guys in the car?” and with that, Nicholas left the dressing room, leaving you and Matthew alone once again.

“That didn’t go like I hoped it would, but there’s always the hotel,” Matthew hinted with a wink. “Ready to go, princess?”

You and Matthew behaved yourselves in the car, keeping your hands to yourselves but stealing a kiss here and there when Nicholas would check his emails on his phone.

“The things I want to do to you, princess,” Matthew murmured into your ear.

Heat spread throughout your body as you imagined what your EVP had in mind. Nicholas had a room on a different floor than you and Matthew did, so he said his goodbyes and entered a different set of elevators at the hotel. When one finally arrived at ground level, you and Matthew were the only ones on it. He punched in the floor number and up you went, but you weren’t alone for very long. Several people hopped on a few floors up which made the elevator super crowded.

You were standing in the corner with your back up against Matthew’s chest, trying to stay close to him and away from the other guests. An idea came to your mind when he wrapped his arm around your waist, and you knew you had to be careful not to make it obvious. You brought your hand behind you, sliding it up his thigh and stopping once you reached your target. At first the contact with his length made him jump, but it didn’t take long for his head to fall back and rest on the wall of the elevator.

 Matthew did his best to keep his composure while you continued to stroke him, only drawing attention to the two of you one time when he cursed under his breath.

“I should fine you right here and right now for teasing your EVP like this,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Maybe, but this is so worth it,” you replied grinning.

The elevator finally arrived on your floor, you grabbed hold of Matthew’s hand and lead him off it and down the hallway to your room. The anticipation of what was to come next both excited you and made you nervous. You walked into the room first, Matthew hot on your heels. When you stopped and turned around, he had already slid his black suit jacket off and had begun unbuttoning his vest, your mouth practically watering as each button came undone.

“I want you on your knees in front of the bed, now,” he instructed sternly. You did as you were told with a smile on your face.

You knelt and rested your ass on your heels while you waited for Matthew to make his way over to you. You watched him unbuckle his belt and slide his pants down to the floor. His hard length was straining against his boxer briefs, ready to be free. You licked your lips when he stood in front of you, his fingers running through your hair making you to melt into his touch.

“Look at you, being a good girl and following directions. If only you would’ve behaved this well in the elevator,” he said in a low tone. “You didn’t think I was going to let you get away with that did you? What kind of EVP would I be if I didn’t reprimand that kind of misconduct? I want you to remove your shirt and bra so I can get a good look at that beautiful chest of yours,”

Matthew’s eyes remained locked on yours as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a black lace bra. You reached behind your back and unclasped it before sliding it down your arms and exposing your breasts, making Matthew suck in a sharp breath at the sight of them. You were still feeling bold, even after he called you out on your previous behavior, so you decided to mess with Matthew some more. You placed your fingertips on your collarbone and started to slowly drag them down your skin.

Matthew didn’t move to stop you as you continued downwards to your breasts and took one in each hand. You squeezed them and massaged them, biting your lip when you took your nipples in between your fingers and began toying with them. You started to slide one hand down your torso and right before you dipped your fingers under the waistband of your pants, Matthew bent over and grabbed your hand.

“I think that’s enough teasing for tonight, princess. Especially when you’re on your knees before me. You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that,” his voiced sounded like honey but you knew there was something more behind it.

He placed your hand on his boxer briefs, and you knew exactly what you were supposed to do. You pulled on them and slid them down, leaving them in a pool at his feet. You took his tip in your mouth and focused your efforts there for a few moments before taking him in your mouth completely. The way he cursed and panted made your own arousal grow and encouraged you to keep going. His fingers found themselves intertwined in your hair once again, controlling your pace and depth with ease.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you? Me fucking your face, leaving you a drooling mess! My beautiful, beautiful girl,”

Matthew’s impending release was evident the faster he moved himself in and out of your mouth. He made sure that you were taking every inch of him, his tip often hitting the back of your throat. His grunts filled the room, and his legs faltered with his last few thrusts right before he came. His seed filled your mouth and slid down your throat in spurts, leaving you both panting when he removed himself from your mouth.

A stray tear fell from the corner of your eye and Matthew caught it with his thumb, wiping it away. He helped you stand and cupped your cheek in his hand when you were steady on your feet, “That was amazing baby. You did so well for me, but I’m not done with you just yet. Pants and panties off and then get on the bed. Your EVP demands it…”


[goldfishontheceiling]

wait imagine this

sometime between island and s2 ep27 of action, (probably on his time at playa de losers), ezekiel gets his grubby little farmer boy hands on the internet.

specifically, youtube.

now this motherfucker is absolutely mindblown because "oh wow! people post stuff here and people watch it!!!"

long story short, he makes a youtube channel.

and calls it therealEzekielMiller

(i swear this isn't an advertisement [as far as i know] the channel doesn't exsit)

so. it doesn't do too well. my guy has like the shittest camera quality and doesn't even know how to change his pfp.

also, all his titles sound like clickbait. like imagine seeing this title as your scrolling.

(REAL) SNEAK PEAKS AT PLAYA DE LOSERS!!! (Courtney freakout!?!?) 😨😨😨

yeah...

however, no matter how grainy and pixelated the footage is, it soon becomes important.

because that's some of the last footage of him.

we all know what happened to zeke in world tour. and if you for some reason don't, please don't look it up if you haven't seen it yet. watch the show. (now ill admit that's advertising).

so, ezekiel's feral, he goes missing, and this youtube channel is throughly investigated to try and find any potentially helpful footage.

the most they found was courtney freaking out. and izzy taking the camera like 5 times. pretty much everything else was about this "brilliant invention" called harmonica rap.

but anyway, a bit after RR, they finally find ezekiel.

and he immediately gets sent to a hospital because HOLY SHIT IS HE GREEN???

the doctors conclude that zeke should eventually be able to return to (almost) completely sanity. so, while he goes through this longggg healing process, the media hears his story.

and that old youtube channel? yeah it EXPLODED

and what does ezekiel do with this new found fanbase?

he gets scared and avoids the internet.

i mean can you blame him??? he went from having NO FANS to HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS, and the only memories he has are blurry ones where he's green and growling at people.

but he couldn't avoid it forever.

and for the first time in over 7 years, ezekiel posts another video.

and it BLOWS UP

THE WHOLE CHANNEL DOES

but deep down our boy ezekiel is still a sheltered farm boy. he had to google how to change his youtube pfp.

so just imagine this scrawy, slightly green, teenager/early adult in front of a camera, rambling nonsense and throwing "yo" or "eh" into pretty much every sentence.

just IMAGINE THAT

"get ready with me to get a rabies shot"

"guys what does lol mean?"

"storytime: i went feral in a cargo hold"

"reading my old rap songs"

"riding a horse after 7 years"

"what does gay mean?"

"get ready with me to see my ma and pa again"

anyway yeah in conclusion give farm boy internet access.

[purpdrawsthings]

Wisnsueleodbsysxgdsfsfsiwvetebsyshsua

Oh, hello.

FINALLY, I've been waiting for ages to literally post this post rahhhhhhhhhhhh

Took me having to half-finish GSP's colors to finish it. You'll see why later =]

Oh yeah, before you scroll even more down, this is a fan art post lmao

Wait, did I spoil to much?

Bleh, enough rambling let's get onto the real stuff.

Erm... Sir... Please stop feeding me lore or I'll have to forcefully give you fanart... /silly

Can you tell I love tv heads

HAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA THIS WAS A @tiredsmashbros FAN ART POST Y'ALL!!!!!

Erm... Sorry for that =D

This guy looks epic, and I want more TSB lore just to see him. PLEASE PLEASE TOMM, DO MORE TSB LORE, AN MY LIFE, IS YOURS.

Woah what just happened.

Anyways uhhhhhhh let's move onto the next one.

NOW THIS WAS WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH

Coughs and dies

I didn't really plan GSP's colors so that's why it took me such a long time to post this.

I think if GSP were too even meet TSB he would be a bit frightened by his chaotic personality and weird ahhhh cartooney logic.

But he wouldn't find him as suspicious as 4 ofc ofc ofc =3

He's neutral/afraid of him hehe

Buttttt if he were to spend some decent time with him, he may find TSB less frightening and actually get close to him lmao.

Anyways uhhhhhhhhhhhh that's about I have to say ehehehehehehehheehhehehe

I uh... I hope Tomm would enjoy this post =3

Yeetus

Small note for Tomm : Love ur art, rlly inspires me, I still cannot understand or fathom on how the hell you even color things so beautifully

Wanna say something more poetic than that but rahhhhhhh my brain ain't cooking today 😭

You'll forever be one of my fav SMG4 artists =3

[starillusion13]

Thank You…

Pairing: Taeyong x f!reader

Genre: Idol au, slice of life, strangers

W.C: 3.7k

Warnings: none (but a bit emotional and talking to a stranger at night alone and also having self doubts)

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Guys my first ever Taeyong fic…I’m gonna cry😭

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

"Are you waiting for me...again?" your soft voice broke his trance and he turned towards you. His screen was on full brightness and he squinted his eyes to take a proper look of yours. He switched his phone off and nodded to your direction. You softly smiled at him and with slow steps, you walked towards the bench he was sitting on.

It's pretty usual for you to find him sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone almost every day. Not every-day. It was not the same before three months.

One day when you were going back home from your work, you were depressed and also a bit sad and you sat on the bench to feel the cool breeze. Sometimes, spending time alone by the river and letting your thoughts out with a sigh and inhaling the peaceful aroma from the surrounding is a blessing. You often went to this place whenever you felt stressed.

But that day it was different. You found something, rather you met someone for whom you felt the urge to go there everyday and to your surprise that someone would always be there waiting for you.

Three months back. It started back then. You still remembered his glistening eyes staring at you and his broken voice. He was crying. Tears were flowing down his eyes and his hands were gripping his denim tightly. He was talking to you. His words were directed to you. He was lost. He was hated. He was broken. He was alone. Except his eyes. Nothing more was visible. He was wearing a black mask and a black cap. You didn't know why he was wearing all those for hiding his face but still who were you to ask him that.

Why were you even concern?

"Take this." You extended your hand offering your handkerchief towards him. He stared at it for too long and his gaze moved up to your face. You smiled acknowledging his attention.

It was your preferrable bench and usually you didn't find anyone before in that place and with the thought of having a company that day seemed a perfect idea. But when you got the closer look, it was not the way you thought. It was pretty much more than that.

Taking the handkerchief from your hand, he clutched it tightly in his hold. You followed his movement and heaved a sigh before putting up a little smile and turned towards him, shifting a bit closer to him but maintaining a decent distance. You suddenly didn't want to creep him out.

"You can wipe your tears or do anything with it. You can take it with you. Its not containing chloroform though so don't be scared. Its pretty new and the sweet mint smell is because of a spray bottle in my bag. I gave that to you so that other people wont notice you crying while going back home." You wanted to cheer him up and rambled everything to not make you seems like a crazy person but you were doing worse for yourself.

You gulped when noticing his lost eyes staring at you and you pressed your lips into thin line and raised your brows.

"I'm sorry..." "Thank you."

You both said at the same time. You laughed off the awkwardness and he chuckled too. Your eyes went wide and you stopped laughing.

"Did you just laugh? Did I make you smile? Wait did you said some words like in my language?" you were on it again with your questions bombarding on him.

"Which answer do you want first?" he asked you softly. His voice was broken and rough. The voice was having a glint of familiarity but you thought that many people can have same voice.

You pout and pressed your back to the seat and leaned back to look up at the sky. You took deep breathes. He was watching your every moment as if he saw a human being for the first time. His eyes trailed down from your short hairs waving to the breeze then to your exhausted face and down to you clutching your bag tightly to yourself. He noticed a particular keychain, rather a bundle of keyrings. The view of familiar objects tugged at his heart.

"Are you tired?" he asked you.

You silently nodded and remained in the same posture, just moving your head to face him, "yeah...I am but am willingly to hear you. Really. I'm serious. You can say me anything. I mean no harm."

He nodded and mimicked your posture. You smiled at him for being comfortable with you.

"Do you come here often?" he asked you again and faced you but you were already staring at the stars. His gaze was fixed on you.

"No. maybe not often but usually whenever I feel for a refreshment or like to spend time alone, I come here to think about everything and sink into my thoughts to dive back to a life with no stress." You weakly smiled and a frown appeared on your face and you faced him. You were shocked that he was already facing you but still you raised your voice, "hey, you are asking me questions and am answering them all but you didn't reply any of my earlier questions."

He laughed. It was not just a chuckle but a genuine laugh. Your heart felt light seeing him laughing as if a wave of familiarity passing you again. As if this laugh makes you happy somewhere but you cant set it in place. Where? The only way of knowing his emotions were through his eyes and voice. He had boba eyes and those were shining so much under the moonlight as if all those stars were just locked inside his watery gaze which were on you.

"I was teaching you how to ask questions to someone."

He paused and waited for your response. You sat back up and glared at him and he got up too, facing you.

"Don't tease me like that. I was just trying to make you comfortable with me so that you could feel a bit better from whatever you were hurt......but I think I made fun of myself."

He patted your head, "hey it's okay. I was just joking. Its funny though. You are sulky like Doy- my best friend."

You laughed with him.

He continued, "I can laugh because I have emotions. I can smile too but just you cant see me now. I can feel every emotion because I have a heart to feel it. Just some people are ignorant that I am a human too. They point out my mistakes. I appreciate it. They love me. I love them back. I do everything for others but in the end, they just turn their back to me for a misunderstanding. I hope I'm speaking in your language because I'm not an alien." He sadly chuckled. A tear fell from his eyes. He wiped it off with your hanky.

You stared at him. What happened? Who are these people he is talking about?

"to the last I give them everything. Even if I'm tired and feeling to give up but still I want to do everything to see others happy. Just to see them. To see us. Happy. Am I really bad?" he asked the last question softly and stared straight into your eyes.

The question felt like directly pointing towards you. As if he wanted you to answer it. He was eager to listen to you but you just gulped. You didn't know who were the people he was talking about, why he was sad and what he was even talking about. Overall, you knew he was broken and hurt.

"no one is really bad." You licked your lips before continuing, "do you think I'm perfect. No. we can't be perfect in every way. Its natural for some people to love us and some to hate us and we should always focus on the good part. Look out for the people who are still good to you and trying to know the actual reason without misunderstanding you. If you only focus on the shining part, every other thing will eventually blur out."

"that's how you keep up with your life?"

"maybe. Actually I try to keep up like that. I try every day. Sometimes its really hard to live when you don't have any good reason to be motivated and only getting hurt by some worst reality. But thanks to some people who are cheering me up every day from afar without even knowing me. They never hurt me but heal me. whenever they get hurt. I feel sad. Oh yeah wait you should follow them."

" them? Who? They are really good people then." He smiled in the end.

You hurriedly searched for your phone inside your bag, your keyrings dangling and he was gazing at the familiar things again. He was both scared and happy to see it. He was unsure about his feeling because of you.

You typed something in your phone and your face was lit up to the light from your screen. You were so focused and excited to show him some people. He was curious to know who were the people you were excited about. he was glad that you had some people to make you feel happy.

"look...they are the best.." you scooted closer towards him. You didn't mind that his fingers were almost touching your thighs. It was nothing disrespectful and you were wearing a jeans similar to him and you were all focused on your screen than minding your surroundings, "This is NCT. My favorite boy group."

Three familiar letters visible to his eyes. N.C.T. so you were talking about them. He would have told you about his members in a similar way. They are really best. He thought that inside his mind and smiled to himself. His members are really best. They are his family. But is he good enough to fit with them? This thought lingering in his mind.

"so like they have so many members. Its pretty hard to understand them when you are new but gradually you will understand them and their different units. You will definitely love them. You know life is pretty harsh to us. We are hated and get hurt by others even when we ourselves don't know what we did wrong. But still we can be happy." You held his hand. "please don't hurt yourself thinking about them. Please be happy. Think of the people who love you. Who want to see you happy?"

"do you love NCT? Do you love them?" his sudden question made you blink twice.

"yeah. I love them a lot. They are my safe place after a stressful day. You will find a different world when you are with them. You will feel as if you have a family who loves you from a distance. Their smile, their laugh, their jokes, their voice, their moves, and everything is filled with a bond of love. A love of friendship. I really don't have friends who love them but a few online friends though." You stated but still deep in thoughts when you looked at your screen and scrolled down.

"Tell me..." you looked back at him when he asked you, "tell me about this NCT. I want to know about them."

"you can search it up on google NCT which is Neo Culture Technology. Wait I'm giving you some youtube link."

He held your hand, halting your movement, "no I want to hear it from you. I want to hear your perspective. I can search their group details and all from the internet but I can never search for your point of view."

"what do you want to hear?"

"everything. From the beginning."

You nodded and again leaned back but now he was still sitting facing you. He watched how you kept your bag between you and him and sighed, "I was in high-school when I found them. They were rookies back then and literal children like me, even though some are of my age. I wasn't a person of outgoing and party lover so basically I used to spend my time alone in my room and one day I found out a video on them. I reluctantly opened it and started watching it. Out of curiosity, I dig in the video and watched all the related and recommended videos. I searched about them everywhere. I felt as if I found a new family. I noticed that I always felt happy whenever I was with them, of course through a screen. I found a family and him. He made me love myself. He taught me how to be hard-working and be good to others. 'Never give up on your dreams. You can make it happen.' He guided me when I had no one. I am too much related to them."

"who is he? Member of NCT?" he asked you and adjusted his cap.

You nodded, "yes. My favorite person."

"What's his name? tell me about him?"

You chuckled, "if you were a fan of kpop and asked me this then I would have feel weird and thought you were asking me about my bias to make him your own bias. Hey, I'm just kidding. Well his name is Lee Taeyong. He is the leader of NCT. He was the reason I got invested into this group so much. He caught my eyes first because somewhere I felt his story of struggles personally. I saw how he fights his inner battles just to prove others that he is good. Sometimes it feels like he wants to prove it to himself more. I don't know him personally but I know his life is much more difficult behind those screens. But I want him to be happy like the way he makes me smile."

Lee Taeyong. The moment his name came out of your mouth. He was shocked. Previously he was shocked already for many reasons. Your Czennie keyrings, your favorite group is NCT and then he is your bias. And you described him in such a loving way. The way he never thought of himself to see. He often heard things like this from his members who are apparently his best-friends. But he never heard anything like this from other anyone in person. The person who is his fan.

"do you think he is a good person? What if he is bad and people starts hating on him? Will you hate him too?" he asked you in an unsure tone but you smiled back to him.

"As I said earlier. No one is totally perfect. Neither you nor myself is good. But we try to improve ourselves and probably he is fighting too. He is a human too like us. He is not a toy who needs to be perfect for us to love them. Their truths and different emotions and sides made me fall in love with them. I don't care what others think about him. But I will believe him till the day I find an actual reason to hate him. I will love him. I love him a lot." You smiled brightly.

You were smiling thinking of Taeyong. But the man sitting in front of you had tears in his eyes but there was a proud and thankful smile hiding behind the mask.

"you are pretty like your soul." His hand caressed your cheeks. You got startled with the sudden touch and he noticed it and quickly apologized.

"I meant that people who know how to love others are really pretty like you. I'm sure he loves you too. He deserves fans like you. He needs fans like you." His words were dipped in hurt. He was telling as if he needs you. You softly smiled.

“Well I’m just a czennie or also you can say a NCTzen from Neocity. I’m happy in this delulu world.”

“What’s delulu?” He was confused.

“You haven’t heard the world delulu? There is a famous phrase ‘Delulu is the solulu’ means delusion is the solution. I just like to be happy in my delusions apart from this reality sometimes.”

“Don’t you want him to love you back the same way you love him? Don’t you want to feel him in your reality other than being delusional?”

You unlocked your screen and stared at the lockscreen and he noticed that it was his picture with a bright smile on his face hiding all the pain behind it and feeling loved by all the fans which was brightly glowing in your phone. In your heart.

“I love him. I really love him but…” you smiled at the picture, “but he is for his fans to love him…even if I want to keep him to myself.”

You looked up to his eyes.

Your words directly hit his heart. He felt like he needed you all these times. You were like an angel who was sent to point out the good in everything. But as you said he was not yours in the first place. There are many others like you who are loving him and being motivated by him. He is their inspiration for life.

He is for his fans to love him.

He got a call from his manager and then you both parted your ways. He fished the hanky in his pocked and walked away with waving you goodbye.

And like that everyday you would see him sitting there waiting for you and gradually you became friends in few weeks and still you don’t know his face.

“It’s not fair how you get to see me and know my face but I don’t know anything about you.”

“It’s better for you to not know my face. And also we don’t know one thing about each other so let it be like this.”

“What?”

“We don’t know each other’s names.”

“Do you want to know?”

He shook his head, “no. Let’s keep it like this…it’s better.”

This became a daily routine of yours and today it was similar to find him at the exact same spot. He always waits there at the bench when you return from your work.

“Yeah I was waiting for you but then I thought you won’t be coming today and I was sad.”

He stood up and patted your head.

You were surprised to see him being like that but still put on a smile.

“Why were you sad? Because you won’t have someone to talk to? Well I am here now…”

He nodded, “I am sad but all these days I was happy because of you. I loved talking to you. But…we won’t be meeting again…I was here to spend few months holidays in my free time from stressful worklife but I had my best days because of you.”

Oh. So he is leaving.

“You are leaving……”

“Even if I’m leaving we will keep this memory forever with us. Our life is private to each other but we have a common secret. The secret of us in these 3 months.”

He extended his hand revealing a green coloured hanky. You creased your brows and stared at it.

“Why?”

“I heard that czennies love green colour so that’s a friendship gift for you like you gave me on our first day. I have kept it with me. The red colour was cute. And this is for you.”

You took it and today you were crying. You were crying because you felt someone ripping your heart apart or like he was leaving a blank space in your puzzle.

You noticed tiny stitches in a corner of the hanky. Three letters written in black L.T.Y. And below it with a small hyphen again three letters N.C.T.

L.T.Y.

- N.C.T.

“L.T.Y. Huh?”

“Love Thank You…” he pronounced each word with a space. His voice was like usual, a bit clogged due to the mask and sometimes it’s difficult to understand his words.

“Love?”

“You are filleded with love and purity. You are a love in person.”

Oh. Silly you.

“For a second I thought it’s Lee Taeyong.”

He followed your laugh. But then he told you to look up at the sky. You did as he told you.

“ if you feel like to talk to me ever again. I’m going to listen to you through those stars. I will talk to you like that too.”

You nodded and a tear dropped from your eyes like a shooting star of losing hope to see him again.

“Will I ever get to see you again?” You asked him in a broken voice.

You have never seen his face and also don’t know anything about him but still you got attached to him too much. Can’t you keep in touch with him?

“Don’t know but it’s better not. It will be better if I just remain as a part of your memory not your reality or present.”

Not your reality or present.

You nodded again.

Like everyday he got a call again after which he leaves in hurry. It was same for today as well but today’s farewell was meant forever. Before he could turn around after saying goodbye.

You hugged him.

It was a quick hug and you quickly retreated yourself and looked down after taking few steps back. He stepped forward and patting your head, he nodded.

“I’m sorry… but I felt like to hug you and I want to say Thank you before our last goodbye. I hope you didn’t cry again. You are perfect in your own way. People love you and I know you are a person to be loved.”

You love him too. It might can sound weird but it’s okay because as a friend you love him a lot.

“It’s okay I can understand. And….thank you to you too. and please keep loving him. Taeyong needs you to love him.”

Waving your hands to each other. He ran to the opposite direction to your home. You watched his retreating figure until the far your eyes could see him because you knew beyond that you won’t be seeing him again.

Thank you…

he was thankful to meet his fan.

After that whenever you crossed that place, you glanced for once in the direction with a losing hope and found it empty. You sadly smiled at it and looked up to the stars.

“I hope you are happy living your life somewhere…”

“Thank you, czennie.”

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]

[jaetaimjadore]

EVERYDAY VIGNETTES THAT REMIND ME OF ENHYPEN

Pairing: enhypen x reader

Genre: fluff with a touch of angst

Warnings: some suggestive themes, mentions of sexual tension (nothing explicit whatsoever), mentions of food and alcohol, please let me know if i've missed anything else :)

Word count: 1.08k

a/n: this is just a compilation of the silly little musings running through my head that i just so happen to associate with each enha member, so, really, i thought why not share it with you guys? hehehe. enjoy <33

이희승︱Lee Heeseung

Tired lovers whose heads rest upon each other in the quiet corner of a subway. Lying upside down on the sofa just because you can. Playing with another’s hands. Smiles that find two faces at the same time. Thanking yourself for exercising when you really didn’t feel like it. The shimmering lights of a cityscape at night. Admitting that you made a mistake. Remembering that you’re one in eight billion. The sultry flicker of a gaze between two eyes. Silver cufflinks. Better by Khalid. Admiring someone as they ramble on about the things they love. Sexual tension that blinds everything around it. Black button-ups. Sudden moments of crippling nostalgia. Compulsively slapping a sack of rice at the supermarket. Dedicating a hoop to someone and missing by a mile. The irresistible scent of your best friend’s shampoo. The dream that left you feeling butterflies the entire day.

박종성︱Park Jongseong

Monotone outfits. Your phone falling onto your face when scrolling in bed. Red, hot lipstick stains littered on the smooth skin of a neck. Gold necklaces and gold earrings. The calming reassurance that you tried your best. Pulling off your socks after a long, exhausting day. Waking up to the rain of a thunderstorm. The moment you realise your enemy is actually kind of hot. Eye contact that brings with it an endless wave of goosebumps. Round-rimmed spectacles sitting low on a nose. The bubble of champagne in a glass. The click of shoes on shiny tiles. Gallery visits but the art on the walls isn’t what you're staring at. Fond shakes off the head. The muscle that moves so visibly beneath a fitted shirt. A protective hand finding itself hovering over a lower back. Bumping into a glass door and playing it off cool. When one person cooks dinner and the other washes the dishes. A breathy chuckle that grazes the cusp of an ear.

심재윤︱Jake Sim

Almost losing your balance when the sand under your feet glides back into the ocean. The warmth of skin under a cool duvet. Wet smooches from your dog. That one perfect strand of hair you wish you could keep that way forever. Sudden bursts of inspiration that make you feel like you can conquer the world. Kisses on the temple. Kisses on a smile. Hands squeezing hips. Barely contained laughter. The deep regret of walking away. Jumping up to touch the top of a doorframe. Wholeheartedly believing in the five second rule. “You’re perfect to me” whispered in the early hours of morning. Key smash conversations over text. A silver chain that dangles down onto your lips. The one eye that opens to the dawn of a new day. The brief fluttering in your chest when the carousel horse rises up once again. Cold fingers that caress the skin beneath your shirt.

박성훈︱Park Sunghoon

Sunglasses worn indoors because you forgot to take them off. Messy latte art that means so much more because it’s the effort that truly counts. Loosely intertwined fingers. Long walks during the freezing winter months. Lip bites and hooded eyes in moments of lust. Looking in the mirror and loving what you see. The divine feeling of velvet beneath your fingertips. Staring up at a skyscraper and almost stumbling backwards. Letting someone win because you love them so dearly. Soft lips planted on soft knuckles. Solemn wishes made on stray eyelashes. Throwing your head back in uncontrolled laughter. Red high heels. Refusing to get out of bed on Sunday morning. Gliding your fingers through silky soft hair. Going through with something you swore you’d never do. Cat-walking your entire closet at an ungodly hour of the night. Strong arms guiding you to sit down on a lap.

김선우︱Kim Sunoo

The taste of the colour yellow. When a piece of clothing fits just right. Finding a picture in your camera roll taken by mistake but keeping it because it looks cool. The indescribable happiness of a clear, blue sky. Light academia and dark academia. The one shoulder you know you can lean on. The hoot of an owl. Realising just how close your lips are to your lover's. The desperate longing to run away from reality for a while. Elbow nudges that silently ask if you’re okay. When the raindrop you were rooting for wins its race down the window. Two warm hands cupping your cheeks. Literally Netflix ‘n chilling all night long. Golden hour that highlights the magic in someone’s eyes. Feeling young and fresh even when you’re old and weathered. New year’s resolutions that inspire positive change…even if it's just for a month. Immediately dropping your bags and jumping on the hotel bed. The hug you didn’t realise you needed so badly.

양정원︱Yang Jungwon

That perfume you caught one whiff of and immediately wanted to own. Spontaneously realising the beauty of the world around you. The flying wisps of hair that tickle your forehead on a windy day. Chequered Off The Wall sneakers. Sleeveless jumpers. The innocent brush of lips on lips. The words of wisdom that found you in a time of need. The entire grentperez discography. Safe hands stroking your head. The same hands ruffling your hair. Making snow angels in the winter. The memory from your childhood that fills you with the most happiness. When you can’t decide if you’re feeling hot or cold. Legs that entangle together among the sheets. Wondering if there really are more atoms in the human eye than stars in the universe. Nicholas Sparks movies. Falling in love with a song after hearing it for the first time. Late-night drives with no particular destination in mind. Foreheads that touch as eyes slowly flutter closed.

西村力︱Nishimura Riki

That beautiful pain in your chest when thinking of the one you love. Lifting your feet from the pedals while riding your bike down a hill. Marmalade streaks that paint the sky at dusk. The moment you realise you’ve fallen in love. The warm smile of a random stranger. Knowing your inner child is gradually healing with time. Pulling your hood up when in a particularly rebellious mood. The moment a maths question finally clicks. Pinkie promises that last a lifetime. The sheer agony of dropping the last chip on the ground. When opposites attract. The tickle of a nose in the crook of a neck. Cuddling close during a scary movie. Trying not to crack a smile when the person scolding you stumbles over their words. Watching the tide wash over the initials you’d etched into the sand. The cheesy quote that actually inspired you one day. The familiarity of your own bed after parting with it for so long. Ignoring your friend when your eyes find the person across the room.

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